by Taylor Fray
“No,” Zak scowled. “You’re not.” He took a step forward, and the man recoiled, his lip quivering with anxiety.
“Really! It’s alright!” Morgan yelled. She was sensing the tension in Zak, a protective instinct kicking in. She didn’t want the poor man getting torn apart just because he was concerned. It did look suspicious after all, a stranger’s car parked in the middle of nowhere, a half-naked woman hiding behind a tree. “He’s my—he’s my boyfriend!” she blurted out, and immediately felt the blush on her cheeks.
Zak just stared back at her, wide eyed with incredulity.
“Is that true, miss?” the man with the rifle asked. “You don’t have to be afraid! I’ll protect you!”
“No, it’s true!” Morgan answered, then looked at Zak for confirmation.
“Yes, absolutely,” Zak chortled, having to clear his throat. He was great at many things, but acting was not one of them. “She’s my… honey… bun,” he said, pushing through the iron wall of awkwardness to say those last few words.
The man with the rifle eyed the “couple” for a long time, then finally shook his head.
“Well… I suppose I did crazier things when I was your age.” He threw his hands up, waving them now as he spoke, years of memories coming back. “But! I kindly ask if you two are going to fool around and do the old tricky dicky, and get all hot and heavy like a couple of wombats, please do it away from my property!”
“Yes! You got it!” Morgan yelled, “Don’t worry about us, we’re getting out of here—we’re so sorry!”
Zak just nodded to the man, who nodded back in silent understanding. He walked away, back to a pick-up parked nearby, and drove off.
Zak breathed deep, a triumph that a confrontation was avoided. He grabbed Morgan’s torn clothes from his car, and brought them to her. He turned around to let her dress herself.
“You know,” Morgan said as she slipped into what remained of her clothes. “You really have to show me how you can shift and still have your pants on when you shift back.”
“What would be the fun in that?” He grinned at her. “Sure, I’ll teach you.”
Oh no. She looked at his stubbled chin which was so angled it looked like it had been built in a furnace, and felt a pang of desire. Just that little grin and tease drove her crazy. She had wanted this man in a primal, frenzied passion since they met. And now she knew he felt it too, because he had kissed her with so much passion, so much desire. But she had pulled away from him. Perhaps he had felt hurt, insulted. No, he seemed understanding. He couldn’t be that sensitive. It was all too much to think about right now. She didn’t know how she was going to hold back her desire for him all the way to this place he called Grey Home. She wanted him already, by the time they got there she would be pulling her hair out trying to hold it in. She inhaled deep to try and get ahold of herself.
“Come on,” he said, “we have to get back on the road.”
They drove for a couple of hours. Morgan noticed there was a dab of dried blood on her lip from the deer. She wiped it off. Everything was so surreal. She felt herself fading, was so exhausted. Even her attraction to Zak subsided under how tired she was.
“I’m never going to get my life back, am I?” she asked as they drove in silence. “It’ll never be normal again.”
“It’ll never be the same. That’s true. But things have a way of becoming normal again, in a new way.”
“I feel like a kid learning everything all over again. I have to learn how my body works now, how this Shifter…world works. It’s starting over.”
“Sometimes, that’s not a bad thing. Some people wish that they could.”
“The police, they’re probably after us by now. And the rest of those monsters are probably looking for us, hunting us.” Her headache was getting worse, felt aches all over, an exhaustion that was entirely new to her. Her head began nodding; she was getting chills.
“Don’t worry. I’m staying off the major roads. I was born and raised in the Shifter world, I know how to survive in it.”
“Is it supposed to feel like this after you begin shifting? Like I just got beaten with a club for a few days straight?”
“It’s normal. Your body, your mind, your spirit, they’re getting adjusted to it. But for most, it’s not as bad as you’re feeling. You did have your first shifts in a bad situation. A weaker person… their mind would probably have snapped at it happening like that.”
“Thanks.”
“What I’m saying is that you’ve been through a lot these past few days. You need some rest. There’s a lodging up ahead. It’s run by a Shifter. We can trust him. You’ll be safe for the night there.”
The Grizzly Paw Inn smelled of pine and very fine cigars. A hefty man with a mustache and wearing suspenders smiled as he checked Morgan and Zak in.
“Zak of the 13 Moons, what are you doing here, you old hoot?” The man said suddenly recognizing Zak. He gave Zak a gruff, vigorous handshake.
“Mr. Bradley Oak, great to see you, friend.”
The hefty man, Mr. Bradley Oak, took in the sight of Zak like he was looking at a distant relative and they were reunited once more. “Well if you’re stopping here it must mean you’re headed back to Grey Home. I’m glad everything with your father and the rest got straightened out. It’s uneasy for the rest of us common folk when the royalty, as it were, are bickering.”
“It’s not quite like that…” Zak began as if trying to explain something uncomfortable.
Suddenly Bradley Oak blushed and turned nervous. “I didn’t mean no disrespect calling it bickering. What happened, it was all very serious and very tragic, sir. I shouldn’t be talking like that. I’m a damn fool. I hope you got my meaning. Nothing but respect for you and your family.”
“Of course. You know we all consider you a great friend, always have, always will. I wish things were straightened out, but they are not quite yet. I still haven’t talked to my father since... since I left.”
“Oh…” Bradley responded, seeming at a loss for words. “I do hope everything goes alright.” Sweat gushed on his brow.
“Things will be settled. One way or another.” Zak turned to Morgan. “This is Morgan. She is new to… our kind. Very new. Had never shifted before a few days past.”
“Oh, well nice to meet you, and congratulations on your shift.”
“Well thanks, I guess,” Morgan said.
“It wasn’t really the kind of shift… you would congratulate,” Zak said.
“Apologizing to both of you twice already here—don’t mind me, I’m just a bumbling fool.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Morgan put him at ease with a smile. “I don’t know how to handle all this either.” Morgan was taken back by this interaction between Zak and Bradley Oak. The talk of problems with his father seemed like a normal dysfunctional family enough, but the way Bradley had referred to him as royalty seemed like a bizarre idea, though the definition of bizarre was quickly changing for her now.
“Well then, king size bed for you two?” Bradley asked.
The pair looked at each other awkwardly.
“No,” Zak said. “One room, but two beds.”
“Alrighty,” Bradley Oak said, giving them their keys and pamphlet. “If you feel like having a snack, our restaurant next door has the best steak in town. Enjoy your stay.”
“Thank you Bradley Oak, may the moon shine on you, friend.”
Morgan and Zak walked off. Morgan felt a little more rested since she had dozed off a bit in the car. She eyed Zak as they stepped into their room. “One room?” she asked.
“It’s not what it looks like. I just want to keep an eye on you. There are still members of the Black Hand out there. And you just shifted twice against your own will. You’re not stable. Imagine if you suddenly shift in the motel or the Black Hand track us down. It’s too dangerous to leave you alone.”
As Morgan looked on at Zak, she thought what was really going to be dangerous was sleeping in the same roo
m with him. She might not be able to resist, and just devour him.
7
She came out of the shower with a towel on. As soon as Zak noticed, he averted his gaze, though he couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of her. He simply sat in a chair, watching the door and windows like a guard dog, or in his case, a guard wolf. The room was decorated in a warm, quaint way that was relaxing, with old fashioned wallpapers and ornate furniture made of dark wood.
Morgan still only had a pair of jeans and a buttoned shirt he had lent her on account of her other one being torn. She grabbed them and went back in the bathroom to change. She wanted to be comfortable and so only put on the shirt, which came down to the middle of her thighs.
She slipped under the covers of her bed, the cool fabric quickly turning warm against her body. It had really calmed her nerves to shower and be under a roof again. Zak’s bed ran parallel, and was close enough that they could talk in low voices.
“Brad seemed really nice,” she said. “Seemed more polite than I ever imagined a werewolf to be.”
“He’s not a werewolf. And are you saying I’m not polite?”
“Maybe,” she answered, a little coy but enjoying teasing him. “So if he’s not a werewolf, what is he then?”
“You couldn’t tell? The Grizzly Paw motel?”
“He’s a bear?”
“Yes.”
“There are bears around? Werebears?”
“Yes. They’re good people. Mostly want to sleep and eat and get along with everyone. Hard-working folk.”
“What was all that about your father?” Morgan said, turning more serious. “And royalty? Is that what you are in your world, in this world?”
Zak breathed deep. “No, Brad was just using an expression—it’s not entirely untrue, but it’s very complicated. The short version is that my father is of good station, a kind of nobility you could say. Shifters have clans. The 13 Moons Clan, is the most powerful of the werewolves. Its King is a werewolf named Sebastian, though generations ago it was my family line that ruled. My father, he’s Sebastian’s right-hand man. His position is called the Hammer. You could say he’s like the general of the king’s army. Though there are so few of us werewolves these days that army is hardly the right word for it. But even a handful of us can bring a city to the ground if we’re enraged enough. So I guess you could say my father wields a lot of power in Shifter society. But he and I… we had a falling out. It’s a lot to tell.”
“Well, I’ve never met a real life prince, I don’t think.”
Zak gestured to the room they were in. “Princes don’t sleep in inns. You can see, I’m out on my own, fighting my own fights. I don’t give a damn about titles or rank or any of that.” Morgan was surprised at how bitter he seemed as he talked of his kin. “I’m after my own goals. I have my own debts to settle, both that I need to pay and that I need to collect. For myself, and for others.”
Morgan gazed at him as his eyes turned dark. “And you helping me like this,” she began. “Will I have a debt to you now?”
Zak was quiet for a long moment, then shook his head. “Not everything is an exchange in some kind of currency. Some things you do because it’s the right thing to do.” Morgan couldn’t help but smile, eyes softening. Zak clarified. “I don’t pretend to be a good man,” he said. “Or a man at all. We’re beasts at the end of the day. If I told you everything I’ve done, it would frighten you. You would probably think I was a monster.”
Thoughts swirled in her mind, guesses at that what he could mean. She wanted to know and then again she might not. But she had never been one to look away from the truth. “You don’t know that. Not everyone is out to judge. Yes, you’re a kind of beast, but so am I. No one ever said a beast had to be bad or less than a man. People can do evil things. In some ways people, they can do much more evil.”
He sat there brooding for a long moment, then looked up at her. “You should add philosopher to your titles.”
She couldn’t help but grin at that and she flung a pillow at him. He snatched it out of the air and tossed it back on her bed, unamused.
“So the fall out with your father,” she asked, hoping he’d be willing to talk. “How did that happen?”
He looked away from her. “There is an expression in my clan. ‘Don’t shut the window on the full moon.’ It means, while something is happy, something is good, don’t spoil it. And if I told you about all of that, well it would definitely darken this trip, and it’s already been dark enough. So let’s just get some rest.”
“I didn’t mean to pry.”
“No, it’s alright. I understand. I’m a stranger taking you some place a thousand miles away to meet other… wolf people. Of course you want to know more about me. But for now, you just have to trust me.”
He looked at her reassuringly. She smiled back with her eyes, giving a small nod of understanding, and then she slipped under her covers.
“Alright Zak… whoever you are, good night.” She shut her eyes. Now fully in bed, she felt how tired she really was.
“Skarsgard.”
“What?” she turned to look at him.
“My name is Zak Skarsgard… of the 13 Moons.”
She realized it was a gesture of good will. “Morgan St. Claire… of the… Tennessee rednecks.”
She was surprised that Zak actually chuckled silently. “Goodnight, Morgan St. Claire.”
“Good night, Zak.” She was too tired to say the rest of it as exhaustion swallowed her mind.
She slept for a long time, but something woke her in the middle of the night: the sound. The growling, vibrating, murmuring sound she had heard in the forest. That had followed her to her motel. She realized now, it was Zak. It was emanating from him. His body seemed to almost vibrate this sound as he dozed in between sleep and wakefulness. This wasn’t good. Something about this growling drove Morgan crazy. She tossed and turned trying to push it away, trying to put her mind on other things, but nothing worked. She felt her body start trembling with desire. Morgan had wanted him just as much as Zak had wanted her in the forest, but she had still been in shock from all the horrific recent events. But now, that she had showered and gotten some sleep, she felt those memories subsiding and all that was left was a primal desire.
She clamped her legs together trying to contain the growing heat between them. Tossing and turning, she tried to put Zak out of her mind. But she couldn’t. Her hands started caressing her body, trying to ease the fever of desire spilling all over her. But that just made it worse. She kept picturing his massive torso leaning over her, abs and pecks like a sculpture, the sound of smacking flesh as he pleasured her like a piston. She pictured position after position, sweating, her hair wild, his hands squeezing her hips so hard his fingers were imprinted in her flesh.
Her desire grew feverish. She could have run into the shower and blasted cold water on herself, she could have sat there in utter anguish and torture, but she didn’t want to—she wanted him. She peered over and he was sitting in bed, halfway tucked in under the covers, shirtless, his head hanging in sleep.
She couldn’t take it anymore. There had never been a man who aroused her like this. It was a desperate craving that only the drug addicts she encountered on the streets must have known. It had been so long since she slept with a man that she had almost forgotten what it was to desire, but Zak was waking every part of her like no one ever had.
She crept out of her bed, wearing only his shirt, taking in his scent, and slowly sat on the edge of his bed, feeling the coolness of the sheets on her thighs. She watched him sleep as she unbuttoned her shirt. Each button she unlatched built up her anticipation so much she was starting to pour with excitement. Normally she would not initiate physical intimacy like this, but she had been the one that had told him to stop in the forest. From what she knew about Zak, he had a kind of chivalry he did not cross, and she was certain if she didn’t show him how she felt, he would not cross that line she had drawn. So now, she had to cross it for him.
It was right. There had been an instinct in her that was triggered as soon as she met him. And as she knew him more and saw how protective, how caring he was, she only wanted him more, both her animal and human sides. And she had felt how he had wanted her too.
Her body was all curves. In the faint light she looked like an ivory sculpture come to life. She woke him by caressing the coarse stubble on his face.
His yellow eyes opened, and fixed on hers.
8
“Morgan, what—” she silenced him with a kiss. She tasted a slight bitterness, like unsweetened tea, along with a taste like pines and honey mixed together. Slowly his alarm turned to desire. “Don’t tempt me,” he said. “This time I might not be able to stop.”
“Who said I wanted you to?” She kissed him again, caressing his face.
They flung the sheets off and pounced on each other. His lips caressed hers then pushed into them. His tongue slowly enveloped hers as he ran one hand through her hair and used his other to pull her tight against him. She arched her back as he bit into her neck and shoulder just enough to kick up a flood in her middle. Her breath shuddered with pleasure. She felt a sense of fulfillment; finally, she had found someone whose passion, whose wild nature matched hers. She gasped and panted—it was all she could bring herself to say. She wrapped her thighs round his waist, around those oblique muscles that made him look like he was wearing a python as a belt. After that initial burst of passion, he laid her gently down on the bed, and kept kissing her, more softly now, sweetly, his body like an enormous blanket of protection and building desire.
“I’ve never had anyone protect me like you do,” she managed to say as she parted her mouth and shut her eyes with pleasure.
“I protect you as my duty and also… because I want to make you mine.”
Their kisses turned more passionate, their sweetness turning to reckless abandon. He squeezed her breasts, pulled and nipped at them. He kissed the spot just above her nipples—it was like he knew everything about her body, what drove her crazy with pleasure. One of the many benefits of having a few extra pounds on her was that her breasts were full and drove every single man she had been with wild. Now she was with him, a man the very definition of wild. The way his mouth and hands ran over her, it was like he was addicted to her, a crazed man who might devour her in his lust.