On the Growl: A Shifter Romance Anthology

by Lynn Red

  Brenna padded forward and her wolf urged her to breathe deeply, to try and identify her visitor. Air filled her lungs, sinking into her body, and the beast helped her sort through the aromas. Those familiar to her home were discarded. It was those that didn’t belong that the animal hunted. Spice. Sweetness. The well-known hint of disinfectant that caused her nose to wrinkle.

  They all belonged to one person: Harper.

  She rested her forehead on the smooth wood of her front door, the surface solid and heavy. Would it keep Harper—or Declan—out if they really wanted in?

  Probably not.

  The wolf snorted at her thought.

  Okay, definitely not.

  Twisting the deadbolt and disengaging the chain, Brenna finally turned the knob to grant her friend entrance. With the overwhelming wave of Harper’s scent, other things also became apparent. The look Harper gave her, the combination of fear and timidity with a dash of hope that filled the normally confident woman. As Brenna continued to stare, silence stretching between them, Harper squirmed.

  Harper’s next move clued Brenna in to one of the blatant differences. Similar to the submission—yes, she researched real wolves, sue her—shown at Declan’s, her friend now tilted her head to the side, eyes downcast. The longer the quiet lasted, the more of Harper’s neck was bared, and her eyes were now closed.

  This was wrong and even the wolf whined at the change in her friend.

  “Harper, what are you doing?” she whispered and reached for Harper, ignoring the woman’s flinch. When she tugged, her friend eased into Brenna’s embrace without hesitation, slumping against her. A tremble wracked Harper and she was quick to quiet the woman, rubbing her back and squeezing tightly when a low whine escaped Harper’s lips.

  Brenna’s inner-wolf was pleased with her actions, happy they’d cared for one of their wolves.

  Their. Wolves.

  They were possessive and sure of the claim.

  After researching wolves, she’d accepted the likelihood that Declan was an Alpha. Connor and Harper’s submission notwithstanding, the man just seemed overwhelmingly dominant.

  And he’d said Brenna was his mate.

  Which made her the… Alpha Bitch.

  God save her. Hell, God save everyone else.

  Her inner-wolf demanded Brenna calm their friend—their wolf. So, she led Harper into her home, drawing her into the living room where she’d relaxed only moments ago.

  “C’mon. Sit. Want some cocoa?” Harper nodded against her shoulder, trembles still overtaking her and her fingers grasping Brenna’s thin shirt. “Gotta let go, hon.” Harper shook her head and she sighed. “Harper…”

  Her friend sniffled. “Sorry. Just so sorry, Alpha.”

  This was something she could do without. She was already freaking about the getting furry thing, and being Declan’s mate thing, and now her best friend acted like they hadn’t given each other shit since they’d met in first grade.

  Growling, she pushed Harper from her arms and onto the couch. In the same move, she plopped her fluffy ass on the coffee table and stared at her trembling friend. Damn it.

  First, why did werewolf furriness only fix aches and pains? Why couldn’t it nip and tuck her ass a little, maybe make her boobs a little perkier? She was happy with her body overall, but a girl didn’t mind pert tits whether they were A’s or DDD’s.

  And second, this was so not gonna work.

  “Listen, bitch.” Harper flicked a glance at her and then away, sending Brenna’s anger higher. Thankfully her wolf agreed with her plans. Everyone else could bow and scrape to them, but not Harper. Never Harper. “I have been poked, prodded, bandaged, snarled at, kidnapped—”

  That snared her friend’s attention, the normal Harper pushing forward. “No, you agreed to go.”

  “Under duress.”

  “Duress, my ass. You wanted to climb Declan like a tree. Hell, better yet, you wanted to eat him like a birthday cake.” Harper pointed at her, eyes narrowed. “With butter. Cream. Icing.”

  The tone was accusatory, but no less true. Because, really, she wanted Declan. And if she wanted him like birthday cake it had to have buttercream icing. Birthday cake without buttercream icing wasn’t birthday cake. It was a crime against nature and should be hauled into the yard and doused with beef bouillon before it poisoned the Sugary Forest of Goodness.

  Brenna’s wolf released a relieved sigh, thankful her friend was back to being snarky and no longer looking like she was ready to flip over and expose all that furriness. She did not want to see Harper’s business, even if it were covered by fur.

  “What. Ever.” She pushed off the coffee table just enough to spin around and flop onto the couch beside Harper. “So…”

  “So…” Harper leaned over and rested her head on Brenna’s shoulder. Not in some wolfy move, but because they’d adopted this position repeatedly over the years. They’d leaned on each other when their lives went to crap and then they’d push to their feet long enough to snare ice cream and resume positions.

  Brenna wondered if her wolf would help burn off all those calories.

  The wolfy snort did not give her an optimistic outlook.

  Bastard bitch.

  “So you’re a werewolf.” Brenna started with the obvious.

  “Yup.”

  “Connor, too.”

  “Uh-huh. He’s the pack’s Beta.”

  She scrunched her nose. “What’s that? That wasn’t covered on the nature websites I visited.”

  Harper froze. “Nature websites? You went online to research real wolves?” A snort escaped. “Real ones?”

  “Shaddup.” Brenna nudged her friend. “Tell me about you furry people already or you won’t get ice cream. I’m a big badass now. I can do that and stuff.”

  Harper hacked out a laugh, but did as Brenna asked, filling her in on the Land of the Wolf and how she fit into a world that existed on four feet.

  There were betas and fights and protection and in the thick of it stood the Alpha. Beside him stood his Alpha Bitch.

  Brenna decided if she was gonna be called a bitch, it better be Queen Bitch.

  Then Harper had to ruin the information overload by mentioning one last tidbit she’d been happily ignoring all day.

  Declan is your mate. Yours. Better or worse, sickness and death. Yours. Give him a chance or your wolf won’t give you a choice.

  Yippee.

  Declan kept his gaze focused on Brenna’s house while keeping his other senses on alert. She was his mate, his other half, and if she refused to remain in his home, he’d protect her from afar.

  He’d been alarmed at Harper’s appearance, his wolf taking a moment to identify the newcomer, but it’d quickly calmed when her scent came to him. On the heels of that aroma came Connor’s. The male approached him slowly, eyes downcast even as Connor towered over Declan in his wolf form.

  Declan rolled his eyes and whoofed at his Beta, and friend, encouraging him to sit. It didn’t take long for Connor to collapse onto the ground beside him.

  It also didn’t take long to find out why he’d sought Declan out. “Another text about the rogue.”

  Declan snarled, angered by the unknown man’s continued presence in his territory. The bastard needed to die. Now. The interloper had already attacked six males as well as Brenna. Who knew how many others would be injured before he was caught.

  “I know, I know. I’ve got Donovan and Ballard on it. They’re gathering a few others and going on a hunt tonight.”

  That had him bristling, annoyed that he didn’t seem to be included in the plans, that Connor had taken leadership upon himself. He growled, the sound rolling through him and vibrating the earth beneath them.

  Connor tilted his head, baring his throat, but kept arguing. “Damn it, Declan. You know you can’t leave Brenna to search for the rogue. Your wolf won’t allow it.”

  Declan wasn’t sure he cared about the man’s logic. Not when it meant his Beta overstepped his bounds.

/>   “You’d risk her? Risk her and leave her vulnerable to the rogue? What if the bastard circles back? You know you won’t mate her tonight, even I know that. Which means you won’t have that connection to her, the bond won’t be in place. She could be dying, and you won’t know because you won’t be with her.” Connor’s words were rushed, but no less true. “I can’t have a conflicted Alpha on my hands while I’m trying to run the bastard to ground, Declan. I just can’t.”

  He hated when others were right. Declan huffed, agreeing with his Beta’s logic.

  “All right then.” Connor pushed to his feet, brushing off his jeans as he rose.

  A soft click, the low squeak of hinges, drew their attention back to Brenna’s home. Harper emerged, carefully stepping on the back porch and then picking her way down the stairs.

  Declan kept his gaze on her as she approached, hunting her expression for any hint of how her visit went with Brenna. It wasn’t until she stood before him that he noticed the way her eyes shone and the small smile on her lips.

  It went well, then. At least, he hoped so.

  He whoofed at her, wolf demanding she speak, and she was quick to rush the words past her lips.

  “She’s fine. Overloaded with information and exhausted, but fine.” Harper paused for a moment and then blurted out the rest of her thoughts. “She’s not running a fever.”

  The unsaid yet hovered in the air. When a human was changed, successfully changed, the final step in the transformation included a raging fever as their wolf settled into place. The fact that the fever hadn’t debilitated her before now meant she was a very strong wolf. A wolf meant to be at his side.

  Declan huffed, anxious to find out if there was anything else.

  “She said you can come in. She understands some of it and knows what’ll happen if you two stay separated. She just wanted me to tell you that the ‘mating thing’ was off the table right now.” Declan glared at the house and Harper continued speaking. “She said maybe someday, but she refuses to bump uglies just because she’s got a furball in her head.”

  He smiled. Well, as much as a wolf could smile. There were a few things he forgot about his little mate. Things he should have remembered after working with her day after day. His little accountant had a sensible mind and a wicked tongue.

  His tongue was the same, yet his was wicked in other ways.

  Ways he’d love to show her.

  The sound of the door opening once again had their small group turning their attention to the porch. Brenna stood framed in the doorway, steaming mug clutched in her hands as she stared at their gathering. Harper slowly stepped out of her way while Brenna stared intently at them. Then his mate turned and delved into the home.

  The only reason he wasn’t crushed by her departure was that she’d left the door open.

  Connor and Harper forgotten, Declan padded toward the home, wondering what he’d find once he stepped inside. He climbed the low steps, his nails clicking and clacking on the aged wood. The closer he drew to the entrance, the more of Brenna’s natural scent called to him, drawing him forward. He needed to be beside her, inside her.

  At least he could do one of those things.

  The moment he stepped into her home—her kitchen—he nudged the back door closed with his bulk, waiting for the tell-tale click ensuring it was shut completely. He eyed the deadbolt, glaring at the offending hunk of metal. He’d love to shift and lock them in, but he wasn’t sure Brenna was ready for a nude male in her kitchen.

  He glanced between the lock and Brenna where she hovered in the arch leading to the rest of her house. With a low chuffing bark and a tilt of his head, he drew her attention to the door. Her gaze flitted from him to the door and back again and she seemed to finally get his quiet message.

  Declan restrained the wolf when she drew close, battling the animal to keep it from pouncing her the moment she came within reach. She wasn’t ready for them. Not yet, but hopefully soon.

  The click from the lock reached him and the moment it split the air, Brenna was gone, striding away from him. Nervous tension combined with a hint of fear lingered in the air. His mate was afraid. Of him. There was no doubt he was the source and he hated himself for it. Not the attraction or the tie that brought them together, but the fact that he was the catalyst for her emotions.

  She shifted from foot to foot, body never stilling as they stared at one another. Damn it, this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. He was supposed to find his mate, claim her, and then they’d live happily ever after with a dozen pups.

  Instead, his mate’s first introduction to werewolf life was an attack by the rogue and then Declan going after his own Beta with claws and teeth bared. He didn’t think he’d won any points with that display.

  “So, uh, this werewolf thing, huh?” She licked her lips and he fantasized about her taste, whether she’d be sugary sweet or the deep warmth of chocolate.

  Silence continued to reign, her words having drifted off while he was stuck with a wolf’s body.

  “Damn it,” she cursed and then huffed. “I can’t exactly talk to you like this, can I? And you’re gonna be all naked when you shift back. Argh.” She narrowed her eyes and stomped her foot. “Fine. C’mon.” She spun on her heel and left him standing in the middle of her kitchen, wondering what the hell had happened now.

  Declan wasn’t an idiot. He was quick to bolt after her, followed her through the small home until she finally halted in what had to be a guestroom. Brenna pointed at the closet and he noted the fine trembling in her hand. He ached to hold her close and assure her everything would be fine.

  Again, he couldn’t exactly do that with paws.

  “There are clothes in there. They’ll probably be a little small, but I’m not going to sit down for a conversation with a friggin’ dog.” He growled at her words. He wasn’t a dog, damn it. That had her huffing and rolling her eyes. “Sorry, wolf.”

  With that, he was left alone once again.

  Chapter 4

  That thing inside her—the wolf—grew stronger with each passing second, with every breath it pushed against her. It fought to grow and expand within her skin, attempting to burst free. It’d surged the moment Declan stepped into her home, pummeling her with growls and leaps. It’d only gotten worse since she left him in her spare bedroom.

  A loud crack, the sound of something snapping in two, reached her and that sound was immediately followed by another. Then another. They came in rapid succession rolling into a constant wave of bones shattering. That was what she heard, wasn’t it? Harper had demonstrated a partial shift during the Great Big Info Dump of Furry Doom.

  Knowing the source didn’t lessen her reaction to the echoing snaps filling the house. If anything, being aware it was Declan going through the pain of a shift hurt her even worse. Her wolf urged her to go to him as he shook off the last remnants of his shift.

  Instead, she padded into the kitchen and set her cooled cup of cocoa in the sink. She turned toward her fridge, anxious to get some sort of high-protein dinner on the table. That was another thing Harper explained. Shifting felt good to werewolves, even if it was painful to go from one form to another. One of the few things that eased the ache was food, lots of meat and the more, the better.

  The other method was sex, but Brenna wasn’t quite there yet.

  Yet being the important word in all that. Because, sure, she recognized her wolf wanted Declan more than buttercream-iced birthday cake, but that didn’t mean she’d bare her belly now. Maybe later, but not now.

  Making sure to keep visions of sex with Declan out of her head, she hauled three steaks from the freezer. Eh, she grabbed a fourth, just in case. At the sight of the raw meat, her inner-wolf swung its attention away from trying to get to Declan and onto craving the beef. Already saliva pooled in her mouth, gums aching and teeth pulsing with the need to sink them into the bloodied flesh.

  Ew. Fuck.

  While disgust roiled in her stomach, it combated her animal’s cr
avings. She struggled with the urge to toss the meat in the garbage and instead worked to unwrap them and then slip them into plastic baggies.

  More of that throbbing ache filled her mouth, teeth seeming to push and stretch her gums. Shit, she was not ready for this weird wolf crap. She had questions and wanted answers, damn it.

  Moving fast, she snared a bowl and set it in the sink. Then, in went the plastic-wrapped steaks followed by lukewarm water gently flowing from the tap. It’d take an hour to thaw the steaks, but it was better than a microwave’s defrost feature.

  That done, she pulled her attention from the beef… mmm… beef…

  Brenna shook her head, banishing images of her gnawing on a frozen block of meat from her mind. No, she wasn’t eating anything raw. Except for cake batter. Or cookie dough. Or melted fudge …

  Man, she really wanted dessert. Something sweet that’d send her into a sugar coma while the wolf bitch inside her forgot about the stea—

  The things. The animal needed to forget about the things in the sink.

  She pressed a shaky hand to her chest, fighting to ignore the trembles as she took a deep, calming breath. Except that merely brought her more of Declan’s scent which, in turn, had her beastie scraping at her nerves once again.

  Scent. Gah. She was sniffing and huffing like a hound dog, unable to draw in enough of the warm musk to her liking. The animal wanted to hunt him, pounce on him, sink her teeth into his flesh and… The human half of Brenna gagged at the idea, stomach heaving.

  Shoving the sensations aside, she fought to go into action, to do something that would distract her from Declan’s presence. Tugging out the ingredients for dessert did not do it. Neither did mixing them all together. Nope, none of that took care of the craving.

  With a sigh, she leaned against the counter and laid her forehead on the smooth granite surface. The coolness helped in reducing her desire, but couldn’t banish it entirely.

  Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

  Declan still hadn’t emerged from the guestroom and she was thankful for the reprieve. With each passing second her need increased, every breath bringing her more of his flavors and sending her wolf howling anew.