by Celia Kyle
Abby turned her head slightly and rubbed her temple on his palm, her cat’s attempt to soothe their angered mate. “It’s fine,” she murmured. “I don’t care.”
“I care.” He grumbled. “Turn or lose your eyes.”
“Do I get a look first? I need a good memory to carry me through the rest of my blind life.” Grant had to keep pushing.
Her mate took a step toward the group, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, placing herself between Declan and the team. “Hey. He’s just pushing your buttons.”
He huffed and puffed—but there were no houses to blow down—and kept his gaze trained on the group at her back. “I’m going to push a button through his skull.”
“Can you do that tomorrow? If you blind him now it’ll annoy Birch and he’s already agreed to let Pike bunk with the others, which means…”
Wolf’s eyes met hers. “Alone.”
“Yeah.” Anticipation stirred her blood and her clit twitched, body anxious for him.
“Mate.”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
And she wanted it—him—so bad. Nothing else in her life had ever felt so right as being with him. She’d go through it all again—the pain, the fear—if only to end up with Declan once more.
“We turned around,” Grant grumbled, though Abby was beginning to think the wolf just liked giving Declan a hard time. This time his words weren’t followed by a groan, but a high-pitched whine.
Declan looked past her and then gave her his attention once more. “Strip.”
If only they were in a bedroom…
She stepped away and then whipped her head over her shirt and tossed it aside, her shorts soon following, and then the cougar was there.
She embraced the cat, welcoming the animal with open arms and no resistance. Her transition slipped over her in a ripple of fur and flesh, bones and muscles reshaping to turn her into a glorious, golden beast. What used to hurt when she was younger didn’t even warrant a flinch, nerves accustomed to the shift. Pale skin became sun-kissed fur, hands and feet turning into paws tipped with deadly nails, and bulky muscle swelled to replace her curves.
She dropped to four feet within a second of welcoming the cat, and Abby whipped her tail back and forth. Then she moved into a stretch, extending her forelegs first and digging her claws into the dirt before rocking forward and stretching one back leg and then the other. Abby turned her head up to the sky, enjoying the warmth, and she breathed deep to draw in the scent of her surroundings.
But her first scent wasn’t of the grass or the trees. It didn’t include nearby prey, or the aroma of the team. No, the flavors that consumed her were from one wolf—one specific, delicious wolf.
She lowered her head and looked to her left, searching for the source of that tempting aroma, and he was right there—at her side in all of his massive, midnight, dangerous and deadly glory.
A rumbling growl came from behind her, a sound the cat didn’t recognize as Declan’s, but she could identify the species.
Bear. She’d fought bear in the past. Fought and won, and she would again and again. She’d fought to survive in the past just so she could escape Alaska. Now she’d fight to keep the new life she’d only just tasted. A life of happiness even if it was occasionally bloody.
She settled into a crouch, claws firm in the dirt and grass—prepared to launch herself at any threat. She opened her mouth, fangs exposed, and released a long, threatening hiss. One warning was all it would get before she…
Declan chuffed and nipped her ear, the slight sting hardly worth thinking about because the cougar was still trying to understand…Two wolves. A lion. A tiger. A bear.
Oh my?
She shook her head. She wasn’t in the wilds of Alaska. She wasn’t fighting a polar bear for her life. She was in North Carolina with her mate and his SHOC team. They were going for a run, and then later…
Later she’d mate.
Abby nuzzled Declan in return, assuring him she was fine, and added an extra purr to make sure he understood. She was content. No, more than content. She was happy.
Another growl followed by a huff and she turned a glare on the bear—on Birch. The bear was Birch. The tiger was Cole, while Ethan was the lion. The two wolves…One resembled Declan, only slightly smaller in size. That had to be Pike.
Which meant the pale gray wolf was Grant. Grant with his tongue lolling out, tail wagging, and general look of play covering every inch of him. He was ready for fun, and Abby realized…so was she.
Now.
Abby nuzzled Declan once more, giving him a low, questioning trill, and then bolted for the tree line. Not just any part of it either. She sped across the ground, claws flinging dirt into the air with every long stretch, and she launched herself up and over the group of males. She landed with a thump on the other side, sliding sideways for a moment before she righted herself and glanced at the group.
She flicked the tip of her tail, waiting to see who would be the first to break ranks and chase her. With a howl and a leap, she had her answer, Declan’s call echoing through the trees, and he grunted when he landed nearby.
The others released their own calls, snarls, roars, and growls in response, but Abby only had eyes—and ears—for Declan. The second his lupine gaze met hers, she was off. She broke into a sprint, cat’s agility allowing her to bank right, then left, and then right again. She darted through the forest, embracing her beast while she simply enjoyed the act of running with a group. It was not a normal pack or a pride, but she figured they were better—a growly, grumpy, dangerous-as-hell, badass family.
And she was part of it—them—now. Or would be once she mated Declan.
A sharp nip to her hind leg grabbed her focus, and she shot a glare over her shoulder at the dark gray wolf keeping pace. The others crashed through the brush as well, a widely spread line of deadly predators wreaking havoc on nature.
But the wolf nipped her again, and she hissed at him. She was enjoying her run, dammit. The freedom of warm air in her fur, the breeze stroking her whiskers, and the joy of simply being a cat.
If he did it again, she had half a mind to finish the damn run in the trees. It’d been a while since she leaped from branch to branch as a way to travel—she was a hell of a lot heavier now—but she’d do it. Just watch.
The wolf didn’t bite her again, though. He pounced. He took them both to the ground in a roll of fur and fang, slipping across the leafy forest floor. Soon their momentum gave out and they slid to a stop. Declan held her there, dominating her and yet not, while the rough sounds of the team’s race slowly faded. When they were barely more than a whisper on the wind, he released her and hopped back.
Apparently, now he wanted to play—with her.
He bent down, forelegs nearly flat against the earth while his ass remained high, his tail rapidly wagging back and forth. He darted forward and then hopped back. Then he jerked left and right and left again, his mouth open wide and tongue lolling out. He barked at her, two short yips, and pounced on her again.
Or tried. She-cat would take it once, but not twice. She ducked out of his path and prepared herself to run. He wanted to play? He could try to catch her. But this time she’d known what kind of game they were playing.
Though it seemed he didn’t want to chase; he wanted to be chased. Which was fine. Once she caught him she’d make him tell the team that cats ruled and dogs drooled.
Chapter Forty-four
Declan put on more speed, his longer strides helping him keep ahead of Abby. Even with her cat’s natural quickness, he managed to outrun her through sheer reach. It paid to be larger than her agile feline.
He darted left, leaped over the next log, and landed with a heavy thud, his gait not faltering. But hers did. A scramble of leaves, breaking twigs, and then a snarl told him she hadn’t fared the jump as well as him. He didn’t get a whiff of her blood on the wind, which meant her body wasn’t hurt—just her pride.
He made a sharp right at the next
rock and used the thick layer of leaves to help him spin to face her. He slid in a whip-fast circle, and suddenly he was eye to eye with her, the furious cat glaring at him with frustration and a hint of menace. Oh, his mate wanted to pounce on him. Good thing he wanted her to pounce.
He yipped and barked, tail wagging, front legs lowered. He wanted to keep playing—needed her to keep running. Just a little farther. The direction of the wind changed, a hint of fresh water carried by the breeze, and his wolf howled within his mind. Joy overtook the beast, knowledge that they’d soon claim their mate suffusing him.
He hopped left and then right, a sharp bark at Abby that earned him a darker glare and a flick of her tail. Sure, the narrowing of her eyes showed anger, but he knew Kitty wanted to play.
And he had the perfect spot for them to enjoy.
He hopped forward and nipped the air, his teeth audibly clicking together. Then he whirled once more, taking off deeper into the trees. He kept one ear focused on Abby’s movements while he kept watch on the rest of the world around them. Sure, the creek was near, but he needed to make sure no one else was in the area, too. If one of those assholes thought they’d get a show…
A sharp jolt of pain tweaked his tail, and he glanced over his shoulder to find a grinning feline just behind him. She’d caught up while he was worried about other males ogling her and she made it known.
Just wait until he got her naked.
The bubbling creek was soon within earshot, the gentle splash of water acting like a siren’s call. It lured him forward and he went—gladly. He flew over the last of the forest’s shrubs and landed with a grunt on the wet dirt just beyond the line of trees. The moment his paws hit the moist ground, he danced in a circle, making sure he didn’t expose his back to the little she-cat.
Abby was right behind him, her golden body easily clearing the brush, and her feline’s grace made the leap seem effortless—beautiful. She was solid muscle and fierce power, a powerful cat that rivaled his own wolf’s strength. She was a worthy match to his own beast. Size separated them, but the power their beasts held was so very close.
At a glance, anyway. The wolf still wanted to play. He wanted to pounce and roll and see who came out on top…before he made sure Abby was on the bottom.
She paced back and forth, tail flicking, the darkened tip revealing her cat’s agitation. Declan was getting ready to agitate her a little more. He wouldn’t hurt her, but…
He pounced, jumped across the feet separating them and shoved her sideways. He knocked her off-balance and she stumbled, losing her footing. She rolled across the wet dirt, snarling and hissing with each shift of muscle. He kept pace, joining the tumble until he was sure she ended up beneath him.
Which was when he realized his error. When he realized she was beneath him, all right. And also on her back. She pulled her legs close and then planted them on his chest and belly, shoving him from atop her furred form. Her fierce shove launched him into the air a couple feet before he landed with a bone-jarring thud of powerful werewolf muscle and bone.
Embarrassed werewolf muscle and bone.
I am alpha wolf. Watch me get my ass handed to me by a cat.
A cat who thought she was hilarious and quickly rolled to her feet before breaking out into some awkward feline dance. He could practically hear her thoughts. “Neener-neener, look who’s a wiener.”
He’d show—
Abby pounced next, taking him down in a pile of claws, fur, and fangs. She nipped his shoulder and curled her nails around his legs. She tangled them in his fur, as if clutching him close even as she fought to push him away. Then he felt it, the shift of muscles and the subtle change in her force.
She wanted to be on top and his wolf…wasn’t opposed to the idea. It meant she could do most of the work while he simply—
She nipped his ear and he yelped, her fangs pinching the thin skin and zapping him with a spear of pain. Dammit. While he’d been imagining her riding his human form, she’d managed to pin his mangy ass. Stupid wolf.
The wolf didn’t argue but reminded him that he was thinking more with his cock and balls than his brain. Her ferocity made him crave her, and if Declan didn’t understand that…
Yeah, Declan’s human mind understood.
He understood and decided that it was his turn to regain control. Those feline eyes were a little too happy about getting him on his back, and he simply couldn’t have that.
Another roll, another change of position, but this time he didn’t follow the quick move with a snarl. No, he cooed, whimpered, and whined. He lapped at her muzzle and nuzzled her jaw, wanting her pale skin and two-legged form to return. He licked her once more and then pulled back. He met her stare and tipped his head to the side in question, wondering if she wanted the same as him. They had privacy. They had each other.
And then they’d have a mating.
Her cat mirrored him, the angle of her head the same as his, and he lowered his nose to rub it on hers. He whined again, rubbing his snout on her lower jaw once more before meeting her gaze again.
Her purr began low, almost inaudible, but quickly grew in volume. It increased until it vibrated through his whole body. A sound of contentment, happiness…willingness? Her gaze darted up and down the bare banks of the creek, and he pictured what she saw. They were at one particular, sharp bend. An area that curved so tightly that they were out of sight from anyone up or down the creek. It was a private, yet exposed place.
And so help his team if they intruded.
Declan retreated, easing back so she was no longer pinned beneath him. Then he went further, not stopping until she was out of his reach. He didn’t want her to feel pressured, but damn…he wanted her.
The wolf retreated, giving way to his human body. Naked. Exposed. Anxious for her cat to let go already.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured. “We’re alone. Wanna make you mine.”
She gave him a questioning trill, a soft roll of her cat’s tongue, as if to ask him if he was sure.
“That I want you? Or that we’re alone? I’m sure about both.” He padded to the edge of the cool, gently flowing water. “Gonna rinse off this mud, and then I’ll see about licking off every drop of water on your skin. How’s that sound?”
That earned him a purr, a delicate sound from a dangerous beast, a contrast that made him want her even more. She was a contrast, softness that made him want to take care of her. At the same time, she retained a fierce strength that made him feel sorry for anyone who faced her. It was easy to kill. It took a lot to survive.
And she had. Through everything life threw at her, she’d survived. She’d overcome the worst. Now he only wanted to give her the best.
After he sank his fangs into that pretty shoulder and marked her so one and all knew she was taken.
Abby’s shift was effortless, a flowing retreat by her cat and a gentle emergence of her human form.
“Abby,” he murmured, and held out his hand, waiting for her to make the next move. He knew he didn’t deserve her—not after the life he’d led. But if she’d let him, he’d take her and never let her go.
“Declan”—she took one hesitant step and then two—“what if…?”
“I’ll kill ’em.”
Her lips quirked into a tiny smile that had an extra dose of need sliding into his blood. “You threaten to kill your team an awful lot, but I haven’t seen too much of that going on.”
“You just have to bust my ass.” He shook his head and kept his gaze trained on her. On the sway of her hips, on the subtle bounce of her breasts while she approached. The moment her hand touched his, he curled his fingers and enclosed her hand with a firm grip. He wasn’t losing her now that he had her in his grasp.
Declan tugged, and then he had that damp body flush with his own, and her tempting scent surrounded him, blocking out all other aromas in the area. She was wet for him already, anxious for his possession. Her need spurred his, desire stirring in his balls while his shaft hardened.<
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Her hips wiggled slightly, just enough to caress his quickly hardening dick. She smiled wide, lips pulled back to reveal a hint of her cat’s fangs. Then she bent her head and scraped a single fang over his chest.
“Fuck,” he rasped, cock reacting to her whisper, her tease. “Abby, I won’t be able to control myself if you tease me like that. I’ll lose it, and I want to make this good for you. If you…”
She repeated that scrape, and Declan was man enough to admit that he whimpered.
“Just being with you will make it good,” she said.
The wind picked up. It swirled around them, bringing forward more of the flavors of her arousal. Hot. Slick. Salty musk.
He ached to taste her, touch her, fuck and claim her.
Declan lowered his head, resting his forehead on hers. “Gonna rinse this sand off you, and then I’m going to claim you. Got that?”
“Better get started, then.” With those teasing words, she tore from his arms and darted to the water’s edge.
She splashed into the low waters with a joyous laugh, one that was so lighthearted and carefree that it washed away more of the darkness in his heart. She’d been brushing away those spots minute by minute, hour by hour. Even as he killed, it was on her behalf so dark stains on his soul never formed.
If he had a purpose, if it was for her, he didn’t suffer. Further proof that she was his and his alone.
With a growl, he followed, baring his fangs and adding a snarl. The chilled water lapped at his heated skin, but it couldn’t diminish his desire. Not when her hands slid over his body.
He did the same, tracing her form, exploring her with a desperate touch. He wanted to learn all of her. He wanted to know the meaning behind every sigh and each moan. He was desperate to understand what each groan meant and exactly what could be done to make her shatter in his arms.
And when he washed away the last streak of mud, he knew it was time. His wolf spurred him into action, encouraged him to sweep her into his arms and cradle her against his chest. He turned and strode to the water’s edge and worked to ignore her tempting lips wreaking havoc on his neck and chest.