by Clara Moore
Chapter 4: Werewolf
After about fifteen minutes of trying to understand what had just occurred in her living room, Sharee decided that she’d had enough. She was not going to let him run away again. She was not going to let him call the shots again. She was not going to wait another three days by the phone, wondering just what the hell was going on.
She got dressed quickly, and five minutes after her decision she was speeding through the deserted night roads of Moonville, headed for the cottage on the edge of the forest. A whirlwind of emotions swirled within her chest. Shock. Confusion. Anger. Hurt. Did he really think he could just jerk her around like that?
Well, I’ve got news for you, mister, Sharee thought furiously. You can’t.
The car screeched to a halt in front of Tristan’s out, and Sharee was out of the vehicle almost before she had finished hitting the brakes. She slammed the car door shut behind her and marched up to the house.
She never made it to the front porch. There was something in the darkness, laying in the grass in front of the porch’s steps. Sharee froze. Surely she was hallucinating. She fumbled in her pocket for her cellphone and turned on the flashlight. Her blood ran cold.
There, a few steps away from her, lay the biggest wolf she had never seen. Actually, she had never seen a wolf before, but she felt like this had to be a big one. It was gray, and he was staring at her.
Sharee swallowed past her mounting dread. She took a step back. The wolf got up, calmly.
Oh God. OhGodohGodohGod…
Sharee took a deep breath. She knew if she panicked, she was dead.
The wolf advanced upon her. Sharee willed her legs to move and take her a few further steps back, but her body wouldn’t obey her brain’s commands.
Oh God.
The wolf got closer, and when it was finally in front of her…it sat down. Sharee blinked. It didn’t look like the animal was about to attack her. She stared at it in wonder. She examined it in the light of the flashlight. The wolf was staring back at her…
…and it had blue eyes.
The phone dropped from Sharee’s suddenly nerveless fingers, landing softly on the wet grass.
I must be going insane.
“Tristan…?” she ventured. And then she laughed out loud, because yes, she was definitely going crazy. Fear was driving her mad.
The wolf made a sound in the back of its throat. And then it happened. There was a shift in the air, like watching the horizon on a very hot summer day. The animal’s shape became blurry…until it wasn’t an animal anymore. Until Tristan Jacobsen was standing in front of her in all of his naked glory.
Sharee stared at him. Her brain simply could not process what her eyes were seeing.
“Hello, darling,” Tristan said. Sharee fainted.
* * *
She woke up feeling light-headed, and it was a few moments before she could find it within herself to sit up. She was terrified of what she would see, but to her relief, she found herself on the couch in the living room…
…except that it wasn’t her living room. It was Tristan’s living room. The fire crackled away happily in the fireplace. Tristan was sitting on the armchair next to the couch, and he was watching her intently.
Sharee looked over at him. “I…uh…I had the weirdest dream.”
He smiled. He picked up a mug from the coffee table and handed it to her. “Here.”
Sharee accepted it gratefully. She smiled when she saw that it was hot cocoa with little marshmallows floating in it. “Thank you,” she said.
Tristan let her take a few sips, and then he gave her an apologetic smile. “It was no dream, darlin’.”
Sharee stared at him. “I beg your pardon?” she said.
“It was no dream,” he reiterated.
She watched him, and sure enough he was wearing only his jeans, and there was a bandage on his right shoulder.
“You mean to tell me…” Sharee licked her lips nervously. The lingering taste of the chocolate there did nothing to soothe her nerves. “You mean to tell me that you did come to my place with a bullet wound in your shoulder?”
“Yes.”
“And you mean to tell me that we kissed and then you ran away?”
He had the good grace to look embarrassed. “Yes.”
“And you mean to tell me that I drove over here, and that I ran into a wolf outside your door?”
He cringed visibly. “Uh…yeah.”
Sharee took a deep breath. “And you mean to tell me that wolf was you?”
He didn’t say anything, just stared back at her. She could read the confirmation in his blue eyes.
There were a thousand things she wanted to say. What she finally said was, “Are you shitting me?”
Tristan laughed. He sobered up quickly. “I’m sorry, darlin’,” he said. “I wish I were.”
Finally, he told her just what was going on with him. He turned once, for good measure, and when Sharee got over this second shock, he told her his story. He told her he was born into it, that both his parents were werewolves.
Sharee had always pictured werewolves as more beastly, but Tristan told her that Native Americans were the one who actually got it right. Werewolves—and other were-creatures—were skinwalkers. Once a month, when the moon was full, they would leave behind their human form and take on that of the animal they shared their nature with. In Tristan’s case, a wolf.
Tristan told her about how he was still himself, even when he turned. He told her about how were-creatures didn’t actually lose themselves and their sanity when they turned. He told her their conscience remained the same. He told her the urge to turn and run wild was becoming stronger as he grew older, and that he was having some trouble adjusting.
All in all, it explained his weird behavior of the past couple of months. Still, Sharee still had some trouble digesting all the information.
“What about the hunting accident?” she asked then.
Tristan chuckled. “I was hungry. I got too close to old Smith’s farm. His dogs freaked out, alerting him. He saw me and took a shot at me. I wasn’t quick enough to run away.”
Sharee stared at him. “That is the weirdest story I have ever heard.”
Tristan laughed. “I bet it is.”
They lapsed into silence then. Sharee allowed herself some time to let it all sink in.
“Is that why you ran away from me?” she asked then.
Tristan nodded. “I love you,” he said again, sincerely. His eyes were dark blue in the light of the flames. “But I can’t be with you.”
“Why not?”
He looked at her as though she had just asked him the stupidest question in the whole wide world. “You can’t be with a werewolf.”
“Says who?”
Tristan stared at her. “What?”
Sharee smiled. “I may not understand your nature yet,” she said, “but I’m willing to try. I sure as hell am not scared of you.”
He looked at her with wide eyes, like he didn’t quite dare to hope. “You’re not?”
“I’m not,” she confirmed “I love you too, remember?”
“Yes, but—”
“There’s no but here, Tristan,” Sharee told him gently. “I want to be with you. If you’ll have me.”
“Are you kidding? You’re the one who should be bolting for the door.”
“I’m still here.”
“Yeah.” Tristan smiled. “You are.”
He kissed her again, a lot more passionately than before. Sharee went with that passion, letting her fire be rekindled and herself be burnt by it. There was something wild and ancestral in the way Tristan made love. He loved with all of his body, and he loved all of her. He worshiped every inch of her naked skin.
When he entered her, Sharee’s world exploded in a white light of pleasure. Tristan’s thrust were languid, wanting strokes. His skin was hot underneath her fingertips. Everything was fire with Tristan. Sharee arched up into him, accompanying his every movement. T
ristan’s wild nature enveloped them both, and as he did things to her that she had only read about in novels, Sharee embraced it completely.
Later, as they lay spent and sated on the rug in front of the fire, Sharee stared into the flames and listened to Tristan’s heartbeat from where her head lay upon his chest. His good arm was wrapped around her shoulders, relaxed but still protective.
“I need you to think about this, darlin’,” he said quietly, finally breaking the blissful silence that had descended upon them.
Sharee tilted her chin up to look at him. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t think you really know what you’re signing up for here.”
“I don’t,” she admitted. “But you said it yourself, you’re still you, even when you’re in wolf form. That’s enough for me.”
“How can it be enough?”
Sharee shrugged. “Knowing that I won’t have to worry about you killing someone once a month is kind of reassuring.”
Tristan chuckled, deep in his throat. She heard the wolf in the guttural quality of that sound. “I never killed anyone,” he reassured her again. “But I will kill something.”
Sharee lifted herself up on one elbow and stared down at him. “How do you mean?”
“I need to hunt, Sharee,” he explained. “Deer. Chickens. You name it.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Something tells me the chickens will be safe for a while.”
He laughed again. “How are you taking this so well?”
Sharee thought about it. “I don’t know,” she conceded. “I just am.”
It was astonishingly simple to her. Sure, the knowledge that were-creatures were out there and that Tristan was one of them would take some adjusting, but for all that she tried, Sharee couldn’t bring herself to see it as a reason to walk away.
“I won’t question it,” Tristan said after a moment.
Sharee smiled. “Good.”
He reached up to cup her cheek and he brought her down for another kiss, long and languid and tender. Sharee thought she could kiss him for days on end.
She lay back down, once again nestling herself against his strong chest. She relished the warmth of Tristan’s naked body against hers. She felt sated, content, fulfilled in a way that she had never felt before. She wondered if that was what listening to one’s instincts was all about. Is if was, she thought she might even envy the weres and their wild, irresistible side.
“I’ll do lunch with Derek tomorrow,” Tristan said suddenly.
Sharee smiled. “Good. Let him know you’re not changing the ending.”
Tristan looked down at her, his blue eyes sparkling. “I think I already have.”
***
THE END
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Here is sample from the fifth book in the series:
Wanted by the Highlander Bear
By: Clara Moore
Chapter One
Kendell
They chased her. Kendell Proctor ran deep into the woods, the thorny branches clawing at her dark blonde hair and sun-kissed skin. She had thought she’d gone in the direction of the road, but as the trees grew thick around her, blocking out the day, she realized she’d made a terrible mistake. She was lost in the woods, lost in the territory of those who hunted her – the wolves. It was only a matter of time before they caught up to her muddy footprints.
This was not how the weekend was meant to turn out. Needing a break from the city, she’d come to the woods with her friends for a girls-only glamping trip. Her friends didn’t know she was missing. They thought she was flirting with the basketball player a few tents down. As Kendell ran for her life, her friends were sitting in their pretty canvas tent, painting their nails and gossiping about college life.
Kendell wasn’t in college. Her family didn’t have the money to pay for it. But none of that mattered at the moment. The only thing that mattered was getting away, no matter how impossible it seemed. She was strong, but the wolves were fast. She’d only managed to get this far because their paws couldn’t climb up the rocky hillside she had earlier.
Close by, a wolf howled.
God no, she thought, frantic. Please, no. I’m so tired of running…
Steering right, she hoped to find a tree she could climb, but she ran straight into the side of a cave, with no opening in sight. She was trapped against the rock. Backtracking meant delivering herself to the wolves. Staying meant letting the wolves find her.
Refusing to make things easier for them, Kendell stayed and searched for a weapon, finally finding a large branch to use as a club. She was just in time. Three wolves broke through the dark of the woods, walking slowly towards her, playing with her, their eyes yellow and hungry.
“Stay back!” she screamed, and she swung at the wolf closest to her, but it grabbed the branch in its bony jaws and tore it away from her hands.
This was it. Her fate. The wolves had finally found her. Too exhausted to fight anymore, she fell to her knees, surrendering to their will. Death would be merciful right now, but she doubted they would kill her. Not straight away.
The woods around her began to go black. She thought the sun had eclipsed, until she realized it was her exhaustion overwhelming her. I’m going to pass out, she realized, but she tried to hold on. Once again, she would not make things easier for the wolves.
They circled her, closing in, making sure she truly was finished fighting, delighting in their conquest. Wolves did not speak, but she could see their satisfaction. They had won, and they knew it. Finally, ending her misery, one wolf lunged towards her.
He didn’t reach her. An enormous brown bear barreled into the wolf, coming from the woods. The wolf fell on its side, whimpering. The others sneered at the bear and snapped their jaws, preparing to attack. To showcase his absolute strength, the bear stood on his hind legs and roared. He was massive, a god amongst the creatures of the forest.
He proved his point. The wolves went running, scattering into the forest. Kendell would have cried from relief, but she didn’t have time. Her exhaustion dominated her and she passed out, falling to the leaves on the ground the way the rain fell before a storm.
***
Dermott
An Hour Earlier
There was nothing better than fishing. Dermott sat on the pier of the lake his house overlooked, his fishing pole in hand. The waters of the lake were calm, like his spirits were. The lake was his refuge, much more real than the pretentious chatter and power meetings of his company in the city. Escaping the city for the weekend, he had gladly traded in his briefcase for a rucksack. He just wished it was for more than a weekend. That was the consequence of owning a billion-dollar company– he had lots of money, but he had very little time.
Perhaps, if he had more time, he could finally find his mate. The house by the lake was his refuge, but he was starting to notice the emptiness of the halls. He wanted a family to fill it, but that wasn’t possible when his company needed his attention.
The line on his fishing pole grew taut. A catch. He reeled it in, using his burly strength to wind the line, pleased when a large salmon surfaced from the water. It wouldn’t go to waste. He’d give it to his housekeeper Mary to fry for dinner that night.
Setting the salmon in the cooler nearby, he traded it for a cold bottle of beer. He took a refreshing sip, staring across the lake. It reminded him of where he’d grown up in Scotland. The lake and the woods were very much like the Highlands where his family came from. That was why he’d purchased the historic home by the lake, buying it off an old family friend. He’d wanted a piece of home.
He took another sip of his beer, but this time it tasted fowl. It wasn’t the drink; there was a stench in the air. Wolves. They were near. He could smell them from miles away. Wolves and bears did not get along.
There was no point confronting them. As long as they stayed away, they weren’t his problem. That was until he
heard a woman scream out to the wolves, clearly under attack. Abandoning his beer, Dermott ran from the pier towards the woods, transforming into a beast well able to handle a wolf.
***
Chapter Two
Kendell
Two things occurred to Kendell as she woke. The first was that she was not wearing her own clothes. A man’s collared dress shirt covered her luscious curves down to her knees. The second thing that occurred to her was that she was free. The wolves hadn’t gotten to her. She’d escaped them, thanks to the bear who rescued her.
She wasn’t sure where she was at, but she assumed the bear had something to do with it. A leather sofa had been her bed, but it was large and cushioned, more comfortable than most mattresses she had slept on. The room was an old study with bookshelves that stretched high above her to the vaulted ceiling. Some of the shelves contained novelties that looked as if they belonged in a medieval castle, such as the swords crisscrossed together and the aged apothecary bottles. At the center of the study was a giant banner of blue and green plaid that took up half the wall it was draped across. Imprinted onto it was an emblem of a gold bear. The plaid added warmth to the room, made it feel full and lived in.
Kendell left the sofa and went to the tall window that gave the room light, her bare feet padding softly against the wood floor. The summer sun simmered over a beautiful lake, having only just risen.
I must have been out of it all night, she realized, shaking out the tangles of her long dark blonde hair.
On the stand beside the sofa, her phone buzzed, pulling her away from the window and the beauty of the landscape it overlooked. As soon as she answered, her friend Emily took control of the conversation. “Where are you?” she demanded. “We thought you were with that hot basketball player, the one who had invited you over for s’mores. My god, the noises coming from his tent last night… it made the whole campsite want to join in. I was gonna pass down my title of Sexy Bitch to you, but I just saw a brunette step out of his tent, her hair all sexed up.”