A Handful of Wolf

by Sofia Grey

  “Yeah, baby, I’m here. Text me the minute you know your arrival time in Manchester and I’ll be waiting for you.” They said their goodbyes and Sasha walked on with a new, lighter spring in his step while he checked his other messages. Tammy had come through her op just fine and Jake would take him straight to the hospital, despite the lateness of the hour. So what did Connor want? The first text was interesting.

  Sasha. I’m looking for someone to help with Pack integration issues. There’s a job here for you if you want it. Jake has already given his approval. Let me know.

  Wow. He wasn’t sure he wanted to work in New Zealand permanently, but if Megan wasn’t ready to move to Snowdonia just yet, it might work. He flicked to the next one from Connor and the satisfied smile was quickly wiped from his face.

  The wolf didn’t survive. He gave us one word. Purity. Mean anything to you?

  Purity. The rogue wolf had talked about Jake Mating with Lillian. Did he mean the purity of the bloodline? Couldn’t be. Why would a wolf twelve thousand miles away be grumbling about bloodlines? It made no sense. Perhaps it was a code word for something else?

  Apart from the weird text from Connor, everything was great in Sasha’s world. Tammy was fine. There was plenty of beautiful, pristine snow on the mountains, he was home again and best of all, his Mate would be there in a couple of days. They could finally spend long nights together in his bed, while he explored every inch of her luscious body and told her how much he loved her. Yeah, that would be good.

  * * * *

  Megan gripped the luggage trolley, squared her shoulders and pushed her belongings down the long, over-bright corridor to the Arrivals Hall. She hadn’t flown into Manchester Airport before and it felt large and anonymous after Wellington. Was she making a huge mistake? Possibly. But if it all went hideously wrong, she’d just bring her return flight forward. Her stomach churned. She’d meant to sleep on the way over, but it had eluded her. The way she felt now, strung out and anxious, she wouldn’t sleep for a week.

  Her phone vibrated inside her handbag and she fumbled in the side pocket without breaking her stride. It was Sasha, she knew it.

  Welcome to Manchester. I have coffee and a kiss. Which do you want first?

  Yes. Coffee. It drew a smile and she sped up, veering around a pair of bickering teenagers. How much further could it be? She’d be in the city center at this rate. She rounded another corner and there he was, waiting on the other side of a low barrier. That lasted half a second before he vaulted over it, and covered the remaining yards to wrap his arms around her, and lift her off the ground with the force of his hug.

  “Cariad.” His arms were strong, his leather jacket familiar and his scent unforgettable. She buried her nose in the crook of his neck and inhaled, God, he had no right to smell so amazing while she was grubby and tired. She was vaguely aware of other people pushing past them, and she remembered. Her trolley was blocking the corridor.

  “We need to move,” she murmured against his neck.

  “Uh-huh.” Sasha let her slide down his body until she stood on solid ground again, but still in the circle of his arms. His smile was warm, proud and loving, everything she needed at that moment. The dimple flashed in his cheek and he bent his head to nuzzle against her throat. “So,” he whispered, the hot breath igniting her insides, “coffee or kiss?”

  “Hmm, let me think.” She ran her fingers through his hair. Was it really only a few days since she last saw him? It felt like forever. “Kiss, please, and then coffee.”

  He hummed his approval and brushed his lips across the corner of her mouth, took a quick breath and then devoured her. This was no gentle greeting. It was hot and hungry and every kind of needy, and she reveled in it. She kissed him back just as hard, their tongues dueling as she tried to press herself even closer. She wanted to climb inside his skin and never come out. It felt as though she’d come home.

  *

  A small part of Sasha had feared she wouldn’t be there, that she’d change her mind and opt for the safety of home and family. The fact she hadn’t, and she’d chosen instead to fly half-way round the world—for him—made his heart swell to bursting point. His wolf strutted, proud and happy, and he wanted to punch the air in triumph. Fucking-A. His Mate by his side, as it should be.

  Megan fell quiet on the long, slow drive back through the Welsh mountains and he tried to imagine seeing them through her eyes. “Is this what you expected, Cariad?” He took his scruffy old Subaru 4WD for granted. He’d cleaned it in honor of her arrival, and even vacuumed inside. However much he polished it though, it was still a ten-year-old car, and his small cottage in no way compared to her freakin’ mansion. She knew that, and she was still there. He squeezed her fingers and smiled. “You okay?”

  A sleepy yawn met his question. “It’s breathtaking. When I came to Wales last time, it was summer. This could be another world.” In a way, it was. She’d be mixing with shifters and integrating into his life. Lillian had fitted in smoothly, he knew it was possible. He needed to make this work. Failure wasn’t an option.

  “Not sure if I told you, Tammy came out of hospital yesterday. Mum’s insisted she stays at home for the next couple of weeks, so I’ll introduce you later, and Mum and Dad of course. Then there’s Jake and Lillian, and the rest of the pack.” He glanced across at her and noted the bemusement on her face. “You don’t have to meet everyone yet. They’ll be curious about you. Wolves are nosy, at best.”

  “Uh-huh. And what are you doing now? Have you gone back to work?”

  “Not yet. I’m home early from NZ, remember?” He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I get to spend the next three weeks with you, my gorgeous wife-to-be.”

  “Sasha.” She sounded amused, rather than annoyed, but he decided not to push his luck any further.

  “What would you like to do first? Is there anywhere you’d like to go?” He was being very patient when all he really wanted to do was strip her clothes away and kiss every luscious inch of her body. His mouth watered at the prospect and he blinked. Stay focused.

  She yawned again. “My internal clock is convinced it’s late at night. Why don’t we just chill out for the rest of today, and you can take me to meet everyone tomorrow? Would that work?”

  It was the perfect answer.

  Chapter 28

  Megan had never been one for winter sports. While her friends regularly went skiing and snowboarding, she preferred to stay at home with a pile of good books and a decent bottle of wine. The Welsh mountains looked large and forbidding, and totally white. The sun shimmered in the distance, but judging by the snow banked up at the sides of the road, it wasn’t providing much heat. Even though it was warm in Sasha’s car, she shivered. He noticed and gave her a worried glance.

  “I’m a Wellington girl. If the temperature drops to four degrees we complain about it being cold. I’m not used to snow.”

  “I’ll keep you warm.”

  “I’m sure you will. I’m not sure my winter clothes will be enough, I might need another coat. Or some boots.” She knew she’d started babbling again, and tried to rein in her stream of chatter. She focused on the scenery instead. The last habitation had been several kilometers back and the roads were getting narrower and steeper. It felt as though they were crawling up the side of a mountain. Eventually Sasha rumbled over a cattle grid, and then another, and the car bumped up a rough track. She saw a hulking grey stone building looming in the distance.

  “Is that your place?”

  “Naw, that’s the farmhouse. I’m not that far.” He turned onto another rutted track and there in front stood a small, stone barn. “This is my place.”

  She stared, taking in the clean stonework and the neat pile of logs stacked by the front door. “It’s a barn conversion?”

  He smiled, but she thought he looked nervous. “Yeah, I, uh, did it myself. It’s not finished yet, but it’s livable. It was cheap and I had the skills. Come and see?” He cut the engine. “If
you don’t like it, I can find you a hotel.” He squeezed her fingers. “I want you to be comfortable, Cariad.” His earnestness was sweet.

  The cold was shocking when she opened the car door, like a thousand tiny ice crystals all hitting her at once. It was no longer snowing, she was pleased to note, but Jesus. She’d never been so cold in her life.

  “Come here.” Sasha tugged her out of the car and then scooped her up in his arms. “I’m doing it properly this time.”

  She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck, his proximity warming her. “Doing what?”

  “This.” He kicked the car door shut, carried her the half-a-dozen steps and then opened the front door and stepped over the threshold. “Introducing my gorgeous wife-to-be to my home.”

  With the door shut, the temperature leaped instantly, but Sasha kept her in his arms. She’d never had anyone who wanted to carry her around before and it was a delightful novelty. It was beautiful inside the barn. Lots of bleached pine and space and a huge picture window along the far wall. “You did this all yourself?”

  “I had some help. Jake helped with the structural stuff and Tam did the interior planning. She does that for a living and it gave her a chance to try out some ideas.”

  Megan gazed up the wrought iron staircase to the floor above. “Is it open plan upstairs?”

  “Yep. Gets great views of the mountains. I can lie in bed and see the peaks without having to move.” To her amusement, he carried her up the stairs without even catching his breath. A large wooden framed bed dominated one end, a bright patterned quilt lighting up the room. Another large window opened onto fields and hills, and surely not…sheep? “Sasha, are those sheep?”

  His eyebrows raised, he peered in the same direction. “Well, yeah. Why?”

  It struck her as ridiculously funny. She giggled, it grew to a guffaw and tears leaked as she tried to control her laughter. Sasha looked perplexed and she drew a shuddering breath, and then another as she tried to control herself. “Oh babe, they’re sheep. And you, you’re a…a…wolf.” He shrugged, his confusion visible. She tried again. “Does the farmer not mind? Don’t you eat sheep?”

  “Well, yes, on a plate with a knife and fork, the same as you. The farmer is a shifter too.” She’d offended him.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve heard of poachers turned gamekeepers, but never wolves looking after sheep.” It made her giggle even more, especially when he bared his teeth at her and pretended to growl. “I have a lot to learn, you’ll have to go slowly with me.”

  In response, he gathered her tighter in his arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I plan to go slow with you, Cariad. Very slow next time.”

  * * * *

  “This feels a bit weird.” Megan peered up at him as he bustled around, closing the thick curtains and switching on the bedside lights. “Like I’m moving in with you, or something.”

  It didn’t seem like the right time to say ‘why don’t you,’ so Sasha bit down on his eager reply. Instead, he smiled and jammed his hands into his pockets. “What time should I wake you?”

  “In a few hours?” She yawned again, her eyelids drooping. “I’m sorry. You’ve been waiting to see me and all I want to do is sleep.” She looked so woebegone that his wolf howled.

  “Aww, baby.” He sank onto the bed beside her and held out his arm. “Come here.” He needed to touch her, to hold her close and the idea of her falling asleep in his arms made his chest warm. She snuggled against him and he leaned over and tugged up the quilt, pulling it up to her shoulders. Her hair tickled his nose in the most delightful fashion and her caramel spice scent was intoxicating. His wolf was giddy with delight. Slow, deep breaths alerted him to the fact she was already asleep. Should he go into her dream? He’d just take a quick peek.

  He slipped easily into her dream state and blinked at the brightness of the day. The sun beat down from a brilliant blue sky and he had to shield his eyes, dazzled, before he thought to put on sunglasses. The place looked familiar. Where were they? He stood on a grassy bank with a tree-covered hill behind him, and Wellington Harbour spread out in the distance. Was she homesick already? Anxiety welled in his gut. Megan sat on a wooden bench a few steps away, her back to him, a pile of cushions visible around her. As though she heard him, she half-turned, and smiled over her shoulder. “There you are. Come here, babe, you need to feel this.”

  Feel what? Puzzled, he moved to her side. Before he could speak, she grabbed his hand and placed the palm on her-very round—stomach. His heart lurched and pulse skittered. Was she dreaming about being pregnant? With his cub? Sure enough, a squirming movement pushed against his hand with a decided kick. He stared open mouthed, his entire vocabulary reducing to one single word. “Fuck.”

  Her tinkling laugh captivated him. “Well yes, I think that’s how it happened.” The cub bumped against his hand again. “There, did you feel that? What do you think? A ballet dancer in the making?” Images of a dark haired little girl flooded his mind, spinning on her toes, pink tutu flaring out. “Or a rugby player perhaps?” A boy…broad shouldered and sturdy, kicking a ball to him. Megan grazed a kiss against his jaw. “We both have twins in our family. I’m not convinced there isn’t another in there; it just hasn’t shown up in the scan.” There were no words to express what he felt, but he knew his smile threatened to split his face in two. Megan nuzzled him again. “I love you so much, Sasha.”

  *

  Megan stretched, her eyes heavy and sticky with sleep, and wondered at the odd sensation of something behind her in bed. A tantalizing fragrance hung in the air, a crisp outdoorsy hint she immediately identified as Sasha. Her heart pattered. It was Sasha wrapped around her, one lazy arm slung over her waist, the other pillowing her head. Deep, regular breaths suggested he slept on. It was dark in the room, but she remembered him closing thick, heavy curtains against the sunshine. Was it still day? She hated the confusion of jetlag.

  With care, trying not to disturb him, she snaked out one arm to her phone on the bedside cabinet, and squinted at the display. Four in the afternoon. It struck her that for Sasha to have picked her up at seven that morning, he must have left here in the early hours. He’d be tired too. She hadn’t appreciated how far it was to and from the airport and she smiled as she recalled him sweeping her off her feet.

  Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness and she could make out the shape of a lamp nearby, finding the switch easily. It cast a soft yellow glow across the room and careful again, she rolled over to face him. She marveled at the long dark lashes and thick eyebrows, the rough stubble across his jaw and the generous lips. He was beautiful. Unable to resist, she traced one finger down his face, from temple to jaw and when she passed his mouth, his eyes flicked open.

  “Your irises look as though they’re glowing,” she murmured, still stroking his face. “How do they do that?”

  Sasha nipped at her fingers. “I’m a lethal predator, baby. Did you never read the fairy tales about the big bad wolf?”

  Excitement uncurled in her belly. “What are you going to do to me?”

  His wolfish—how appropriate—grin flashed at her, along with that damned dimple. “I’m going to eat. You. All. Up.” Each word punctuated with a tiny nip. Megan’s breath caught in her throat. Was it her, or was it too hot in here? As though he read her mind, Sasha slowly pushed down the quilt. It skimmed down to her stomach and he paused, as though waiting for permission. She wriggled and shoved it down further, exposing her bare legs beneath the long sleep T-shirt. Sasha made a humming noise, eating her up with his eyes.

  He lifted his head. “I have a problem.” The smile suggested he meant the opposite, but she played along.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know where to bite first.” At the word bite, her insides clenched. His fingers played with the hem of her T-shirt. “Maybe here?” He splayed his hand over her stomach, warm and dry, with enough calluses to create a hint of friction. He followed with his lips and she trembled. Liquid heat surged
between her legs. If he carried on like that, she’d melt into a puddle right there.

  “Arms up,” he whispered. She complied and helped to peel the shirt over her head. He murmured approval and his mouth trailed upward, nuzzling a path over her ribcage to lick a slow circle around one nipple, and then the other. “Here maybe?”

  Her fogged brain didn’t understand. Oh yes, he wanted to bite her. Her pulse spiked when he closed his teeth around one sensitive nub. Did she want him to? Was she afraid? He licked some more and continued to meander upward. Half disappointed and half relieved, she let out a breath only to gasp when sharp teeth grazed her collarbone. “Definitely here.” She whimpered. He moved higher to nibble on her earlobe. “And here.”

  Megan squirmed on the bed, her stomach tying itself in knots. She was close to orgasm already, just from his mouth and the things he was saying to her. He moved a hand to her thigh and she opened her legs, wanting him to touch her. She needed him to touch her, she ached in a way only he could fix. “Sasha,” she pleaded.

  “Mm-huh?” He pressed a lazy open-mouthed kiss against her throat.

  “Please,” she whispered, her nerves drawing tighter.

  He slid one hand down her side, stroking over her thigh to stroke ever closer. Christ, her panties were saturated, but still he petted her. “Please, what, Cariad?” His teeth closed over the sensitive skin at the base of her neck and Megan arched her back, the shockwave darting through her.

  “Fuck me, Sasha. Please.” Her voice quivered.

  Another soft bite before he spoke. “I love it when you talk dirty, baby.” This time, his hand moved closer and she groaned, on a knife edge. Her body felt too tight, her skin a size too small and she imagined being devoured by him. Dear God, she’d die happy. She’d be freakin’ delirious.

  *

  Sasha had no intention of fucking Megan this time. He wanted to make love to her, and in his mind, it was a huge difference. The perfume of her arousal sent his own desire through the ceiling and his wolf panted inside him. It was hungry, greedy for a taste of her. He tried to hold back for a minute. This was important. “There’s something I need to say.” He couldn’t resist a little touch and slipped his hand down the front of her panties. Jesus, she was sopping wet, his fingers slippery and sticky. He raised the hand to his mouth and inhaled deep. Yes. Exquisite. Knowing she watched, he sucked the fingers one at a time. Her taste exploded into his mouth and pushed his lust a step higher, his control shredding.