Emmie felt a sinking feeling creep through the pit of her stomach. The way he said it and the look on his face were telling her that any or all of her worst fears were most certainly true.
“Emeline,” Virgil braced himself on the side of the house. “You know how I told you that the cattle were taken by animals?”
Emmie nodded waiting for further explanation but nothing came.
"That was you? You're telling me that you did steal the McGilligcuddy cattle?”
“Yes, and the other morning too,” Virgil squinted his eyes.
“Other morning?”
“The morning you came out—”
“—No,” Emmie interrupted. “I saw wolves remember?”
“Exactly,” Virgil exhaled the word slowly.
“I don’t understand,” Emmie’s face screwed up. Whatever her worst fears had been they hadn’t revolved around Virgil stealing cattle and for a moment she had felt vaguely relieved.
“Remember you shot one in the leg?” Virgil lifted his brows as if this would be the final clue, but Emmie shook her head without understanding. “You shot Levi.”
“But I didn’t… I shot…” Emmie’s thoughts drifted by as she saw the look in Virgil’s eyes. She was looking at two pieces of a puzzle that made no sense. Unless…
“You are telling me—”
“—Yes, that is exactly what I’m telling you. That is why they are so dangerous, why we need to get you out of here.”
Emmie stared at him for another long moment.
“Emeline, please.” Virgil’s voice was so full of conviction and momentum that she felt she had no choice but to move.
“Ok,” She nodded at him before running to get her boots.
“You should get the extra rifle too,” Virgil turned to look out over the land behind him.
“I can’t leave Silas without one, I’ll get the one in the barn,” Emmie instinctively understood that there was no time for more explanations, no time for changing out of her night dress, no time to think twice.
Emmie shimmied out of her window while Virgil gripped her arm, then the two of them made their way down to the dirt and grass below.
As soon as her feet hit the grass she knew something was wrong. When she turned, she saw all three of them before her. She had no weapon, only Virgil and they didn’t stand a chance against three.
Emmie tried to calculate how long it would take her to get to the barn but it was impossibly far.
“You’re becoming rather predictable these days,” Max looked at Virgil.
“You should leave,” Virgil’s voice was strong and Emmie guessed that his voice was showing a strength his mind could not be so sure of.
“I’ll leave when I get what I came here for,” Max walked forward with an arrogance he certainly hadn’t earned from his last fight with Virgil.
A crack came from Emmie’s left. The front door of the house swung open, slamming against the wood behind it. Silas stood in the doorway with a shotgun lifted to his shoulder.
“You should stop right there,” Silas spoke slowly and Emmie watched as Max’s smile grew larger.
“Dad,” Emmie had to warn her father that at any moment a wolf could be attacking him but just as she finished the word Max shifted with a leap into a full-grown wolf. A crack rang out into the night and Emmie began running toward her father.
A shriek came from her other side and she turned her head to see Virgil shift and pounce on Otis. As her head spun back to her father another flash of color moved in front of her and Emmie found herself rolling on the ground, long, sharp teeth snapping at her face.
Emmie put both feet up to the belly of the wolf then pushed with a great effort. It didn’t last long but just long enough for Emmie to see the place where she’d shot him a few days before.
Gathering all her strength Emmie kicked at the back leg of the animal. Her foot made contact and a yelp of pain went up.
She looked up again to see Virgil jump on Levi as Otis lay in an unmoving heap on the grass.
A loud growl issued from the front porch and Emmie turned to see Max as he took notice of his brother’s lifeless body.
Max turned from Otis to Virgil and lunged at him. Just as Max made contact with Virgil, Levi also turned to make it two against one on Virgil. Emmie stood and ran with all her might at the injured wolf. They tumbled over closer to the front porch where Emmie could vaguely see her father’s body laying broken. She looked up as Levi lunged for her.
She saw the movement as if in slow motion, the seconds drawing out, Levi jumped for her and Virgil turned from Max striking out at Levi with such force that the injured wolf flew through the air and thudded unmoving against the house.
Max jumped again but Virgil was ready for him this time. Within a few seconds, it was over. Emmie ran to her father's body trying without success to find a pulse. Her eyes filled over her only parent, now dead.
Emmie turned toward Virgil who had just changed back into himself. His eyes were full of everything she felt.
“He’s gone,” Emmie looked at Virgil pleading for him to contradict her.
Two heavy tears rolled down her cheeks, then without a moment’s thought, Emmie picked up the discarded gun still on the porch, cocked it, and fired. Virgil swung around to see Max sprawled out on the ground just as he’d been before Emmie had taken her perfect shot.
Chapter Seven
The graveyard in Cool Water Gap was not in the center of town with the church. It was out ways but Emmie had always gone there regularly to visit her mother's gravesite.
Now as she stood over her mother’s grave she looked at her father’s grave too.
“I miss you,” She whispered the words to both her parents who now, after all these years, were together again.
Pushing a tear off her cheek she turned back toward the ranch. Virgil stood with his serious eyes and mouth, his body tense and set, waiting for her, watching over her.
He walked her out past the small makeshift gravestones, some good and some rudimentary. Red was just outside the small enclosure and Emmie swung herself up onto his back in one fluid motion.
The sun was shining down on her skin and she lifted her face up to it, closing her eyes for a moment.
When she opened her eyes again she turned them to Virgil.
"I'll race you home," Before she'd finished saying "race" she'd given Red a signal and begun off toward the ranch. Red was strong beneath her, his hooves thundering along the ground. The wind brushed across Emmie's face and she looked back over her shoulder to see the sleek gray wolf easily keeping pace with her.
She shook her head wishing that for once she and Red stood more of a chance to win. When Emmie pulled up to the ranch first she shook her head at Virgil.
“What?” He raised his hands. “You won. You must be happy with that.”
Emmie pushed her lips together and studied him, “No. You let me win. That’s not the same thing.”
Virgil feigned ignorance of his rigged race and Emmie walked past him into the house to set the table for dinner.
They slept with the windows open as the summer came on and their bodies intertwined as the easy summer breeze flowed over them both.
As the sun began to break, Emmie woke. She walked free and naked to the window, standing in awe at the beauty of something that happens every morning. She leaned her head against the windowsill and breathed in the fresh air of a new day.
Emmie turned to watch the man sleeping soundly in her bed. His body was strong and lithe, his face perfect in the grip of a deep and dreamless sleep.
She felt an overwhelming sense of love flood her senses as she watched him. She walked to the edge of the bed and looked down into his face, wishing she could see his gray eyes once again.
“I love you,” Emmie whispered down to the sleeping man.
She crawled back into bed and pulled herself close to his body.
Emmie’s mouth found Virgil’s and they fit together perfectly.
“Good morning,”
Virgil smiled a sleepy smile as his hands slid over Emmie’s warm skin.
“It is a good morning,” Emmie smiled back. She rolled herself on top of him, her thighs fitting around him as if they’d been made for just that purpose.
Emmie bent down but before her lips could touch his, Virgil lifted a finger to them.
“What?” Emmie stopped, her eyes locking with his.
“Just wanted to say,” He whispered close to her face, “that I love you too.” Virgil released his finger and lifted his head, no longer willing to hold himself away.
*****
THE END
Shifter Romance: Bonded to the Alpha Wolf
Description
Every witch needs an animal companion – but she never bargained for this!
Savannah Goode has not had an easy existence. An African-American woman with a sensual, Earth Mother Goddess body, she knew from an early age that she was “different,” hailing from a long line of solitary witches. Her two older half-sisters continue to torment her on a daily basis, but somehow she refrains from turning them into toads as she struggles to keep a promise to their late father and run the small Chicago restaurant that was his legacy.
Things get even more complicated on the night of a full moon, when a Werewolf gone Rogue accidentally stumbles into the sacred circle during one of Savannah’s ceremonial rituals. On the run from Pack authorities and wanted for murder, Justin Waylan finds himself caught up in Savannah’s spell – literally! – and is forced to hide out at her house until she can find a way to reverse the charm and set him free. And the sooner the better, as it doesn’t take long before this handsome but annoying, smart-mouthed wolf starts to try his reluctant hostess’ patience.
As that mischief-maker Fate would have it, Savannah and Justin soon become entangled in each other’s problems, unexpectedly and inexplicably bringing them closer together. Can a kind-hearted Human witch help an errant Werewolf with a criminal past to prove his innocence before he’s put to death by his vengeful Pack? And will the intense, blossoming attraction they have begun to feel for one another be a blessing, or a curse?
It will take a lot of magic, and a little assistance from the spirit world, to get them out of this dangerous mess…but will it be too late?
Prologue
Justin Waylan stared at the windows lining one wall of his father’s study, watching the cold autumn rain drizzle down the other side of the glass. He found himself wishing he could be anywhere else – anywhere except here, in the small gated community nestled among the stately homes of Wilmette on the north side of Chicago. An hour ago, he had been sitting in Kelly’s Pub over in Evanston with a bunch of rich mathematics undergrads from Northwestern University, having a good time as he proceeded to beat them all at a game of Flip the Cup. They had just agreed to go double or nothing when two of his father’s “assistants” showed up. Justin knew when they told him his dad needed to see him that he would be in for yet another lecture. He also knew from experience that refusing to go with them would just make matters worse. At least he had been able to grab his winnings. He had even considered giving his dad’s goons the slip as he followed them outside to the car, screw the consequences, but the moment they had opened the door and he saw his father sitting in the back seat, Justin had no recourse but to get in.
Nothing had been said on the ride back to the main house. Now, Justin broke the silence. “This is bullshit,” he muttered, his low baritone almost a growl. His fists and jaw tightened in long-held anger, his entire body quivering from the tension building within him. He could see his hardened expression mirrored in the glass, against the dark of night just beyond. “I’m sick of living like this…living a lie.” He snorted, his hazel eyes glowing gold with the reflected light from the fire burning behind him. “You call this place a ‘sanctuary.’ I call it a ‘prison.’ That’s all it will ever be, as long as we keep hiding who we are from the rest of the world.”
Randall Waylan let out a long-suffering sigh. “We’ve already been over this countless times,” he said, slipping off his suit jacket and draping it over the arm of one of the chairs closest to the fire. “There’s a reason we have to maintain our anonymity.”
“Yeah, well, I’m tired of pretending to be something I’m not,” Justin snapped. “We’re not Humans, Dad – we’re Werewolves. We should be proud of that, not slinking around with our tails literally tucked between our legs!” He turned to face the older man standing near the blazing hearth. “You have the power to change this, but you won’t.” Justin advanced on his father, raising his voice. “Why are you so bent on living in the Dark Ages?” he demanded.
“Someone has to protect the Clan!” Randall Waylan replied sharply, his voice rising in anger. The flickering of the orange flames cast his strong features in sharp contrasts of light and shadow, turning the silver streaks in his dark hair and beard to brassy gold. His fury receded and he shook his head. “The world is a dangerous place for us, Justin. Look at how other races are still struggling against opposition, even in this country. The discrimination against our kind would be worse. If we didn’t keep ourselves inside the walls we’ve built for ourselves, we would find our kind rounded up and placed in internment camps.” He grimaced and looked away. “Or worse.”
“Yeah, Dad, I know,” Justin said, sighing and rolling his eyes in a show of impatience. “I grew up hearing all the stories about the way our people were hunted back in Europe. But that was over two hundred years ago! Times have changed! The media alone is cashing in on our kind with TV shows and movies, and not as the bad guys! We aren’t the ‘Big Bad Wolves’ anymore. Now’s the time for us to come out of the shadows and let people know who we are, that we’re here – that we aren’t ashamed of who and what we are, and that we’re not going to live in fear.” He hitched his hands on his narrow hips, his fingertips resting above the pockets of his well-worn jeans. “When I’m Alpha, things are going to be different around here.”
Randall snorted. “Oh, really?” He stared at his son, incredulous, his tone mocking and full of scorn. “You think you can just become Alpha? Being an Alpha means having the respect of the Clan – and by your past actions alone, you’ve insured that no one in this Pack will ever follow you. You’ve done nothing to deserve the Alpha title – and if you think it can just be yours by birthright, you are in for a very rude awakening.” He looked away, into the flames. “You have too much blood on your hands.”
Justin recoiled as though he had been slapped. He blinked and scowled. “So, you’re still holding that against me?” When his father didn’t answer right away, Justin felt a wave of bitterness surge inside him. “Well, that’s just great. Thanks for that, Dad.” He began to pace, agitated. “I know I did a lot of stupid shit when I was younger. It’s only because I was trying to get your attention. Then after Mom…” he faltered, struggling with the words, “…after she died, I know things got worse. But you didn’t make it any easier for me. I needed you and all you did was treat me like some second-class citizen instead of your son!” He flung out an arm in a wild gesture. “You’d think you’d be happy that I was acting like a ‘normal’ kid – you know, like those Humans you want us all to be like when we’re out in ‘their’ world.” He stopped and fixed his father with a hard, accusatory stare. “When are you going to stop blaming me for everything that goes wrong? You’ve given me shit ever since Mom died, like it was all my fault!”
“Because it was!” Randall snarled, his anger flaring again. He faced his son, his fists at his sides. “Your mother was the victim of a hate crime. She was beaten to death because she showed her true nature while protecting you. If you hadn’t been sneaking off to meet up with your so-called ‘friends’ to get high on the South Side, she wouldn’t have gone out looking for you. What was she supposed to do, when she saw you being threatened by those drug dealers? A mother is always protective of her young, especially her only child.” Randall’s eyes flashed, and his lips curled back to reveal prominent canine teet
h. “If you hadn’t been so stupid, she would still be alive!”
Justin’s breath caught in his throat, his father’s words cutting deep. He could still remember that night of ten years ago, all the horrible details that remained vivid in his own memory. He had been fourteen, a rebellious punk kid and the only child of the Clan Alphas. Even then, he had hated having to hide what he was, and he had acted out as any kid his age would. While he had attended one of the finest private schools in the area, he had still managed to find the other bad boys, rich and bored and looking for thrills. He had started drinking, doing drugs, and of course his mother had noticed – anyone in the Clan could have smelled it on him – but Mom had been the one who had decided to do something about it. Justin hadn’t expected her to follow him. He hadn’t expected her to show up that particular evening, when one of his friends had tried to cheat the dealer. Justin had been at that age where changing at will still took a lot of concentration, and when faced with three adult men brandishing handguns and knives, he had been paralyzed by fear.
And that’s when Mom had stepped in. She had launched herself out of the shadows, taking down one of the men and injuring a second, but it had been the shot to the back of her head that had ended her life. Sometimes, Justin could still hear her yelp. He could still see that moment when his mother had collapsed, her golden fur matted with blood and brains and fragments of bone even as she had transformed back to her human form. The man who shot her had grabbed his wounded companion and the two of them had escaped. Justin’s friends had fled during the chaos, and would later be told that their claims of seeing a “werewolf” had been hallucinations brought on by the drugs they had been taking. As for the two men who got away…well, Justin had decided to go after them – a fourteen-year-old kid out to get revenge for his mother’s death – only to find out they had met with a gruesome end when pieces of their dismembered bodies had washed up on the shores of Lake Michigan in what local police and the press had shrugged off as a gang-related hit. Justin still recalled how his father had turned off the television after hearing the news report and quietly left the room. To this day, Justin believed his father had exacted Clan Justice, whether alone or with the help of his Beta assistants.
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