Wild Wolf

by Jennifer Ashley

  “Dougal went up in dominance,” Graham said. “Thank you, Misty.”

  Misty was staring at him again. “What did I do?”

  “Gave him the opportunity. And you showed your dominance too. I’m proud of both of you.”

  Misty kept staring. Any other Shifter would blush and show their pride at his praise. Misty only looked bewildered. “This is a Shifter thing I don’t understand, isn’t it?”

  Graham put his hand on her shoulder. “Let me put it this way—you’ve just made my life a little easier. If Jan let herself get out-dominated by a human and a cub past his Transition, her alpha might keep her mating needs away from me.” Jan’s father was ambitious, which was why he’d sent Jan over to Graham’s to fight him and “lose,” so Graham would show his dominance by sexing her. Nice try.

  “Anyway,” Misty said, as though the very important issue had been a side note. “Is this the basement the cubs found? It’s dark down here. Anyone bring a flashlight?”

  Dougal snorted. “Humans.”

  “She’s a guest,” Graham said firmly. Moving up in dominance did not mean Dougal got to be a rude shit. “Look around for ones the humans might have left.”

  Dougal growled a little, but he walked away, the cubs scampering after him.

  “Misty,” Graham said.

  Misty stood her ground. She’d moved her hands from her hips to fold them across her chest again. “I’m not going back.”

  “I know you’re not, because you’re an obstinate human woman who doesn’t understand danger.”

  Graham stepped close to her, unable to keep himself from her any longer. Her scent filled him, her honey-spice that was even stronger after last night’s intimacy. She’d bathed, but if she thought rubbing herself with the soap he used every day made her scent more distant, she was wrong. Now she smelled like him, his house, his bed, things that were a part of him.

  Misty looked up at him, her brown eyes filled with uncertainty, confusion, and determination all mixed together. He liked that she could follow many trains of thought at once. Lupine women could be boringly single-minded.

  Graham had to kiss her. Couldn’t stop himself.

  Her eyes softened as Graham bent to her, her lips parting for his. Misty’s hands went to his chest, fingertips pressing into his shirt as Graham cupped her shoulders and pulled her up to him.

  As soon as their lips touched, Graham’s determined gentleness evaporated. He needed her. Pushing her away had grown too difficult, which scared the hell out of him.

  Misty tasted of minty toothpaste, and herself. Graham opened her mouth with his, pressing her into his arms. He wanted her now, on the ground, in the dirt, her legs wrapped around him. He’d slide deep inside her and not come out until he’d satisfied himself again and again.

  The longing swirled in his brain and through his body. Her kiss was as needy as his, but more tender. Misty kissed him for kissing’s sake, as though she didn’t care if it led to anything else. She simply liked kissing him.

  Graham liked kissing her. He licked behind her lower lip, caught her tongue between his teeth and gently bit. Misty laughed when he let go, then Graham scooped her up to him and started again.

  Misty’s body flowed into his, she softening to fit every plane of him. Graham ran his hands down her back to her buttocks under her loose skirt. Firm and sweet, like her, but soft enough for caresses. Her breasts flattened against his chest, unfettered behind her tank top. She hadn’t bothered to put on her bra this morning.

  Shifter women rarely wore bras, so the fact Misty had left hers off shouldn’t have shot Graham’s cock into the hardest hard-on he’d had since . . . well, since last night. He skimmed his hands inside her shirt, Graham’s kiss intensifying as he drew his palms up to cup her breasts.

  Warm, beautiful woman met his hands, her skin satiny, the slightest bit damp from her shower. He closed two fingers around each of her firm nipples, his cock fiery hot.

  Misty had defied a Shifter woman for him. She had guts behind her sweet smile, and it made Graham’s body hotter than August sunshine.

  Graham broke the kiss to lick her throat. Bite it. The mark he’d left on her shoulder showed outside the strap of her tank top. Graham suckled her there again, darkening the mark. So all Shifters would know to back off. Even better, he breathed out onto her skin, scent-marking her.

  For her protection, he told himself, so the horny, mate-needing male Shifters of Shiftertown wouldn’t run after her. They’d know Graham protected her, and back off, unless they wanted to fight him for her.

  But he knew, even as he did it, that the scent-marking was more than just for her protection. Graham was proclaiming that Misty was his and his alone. He’d been denying this to himself since he’d met her, but here in the unfinished, dusty basement, he knew. He wanted Misty, and no other, as his mate.

  “My life is screwed up,” he said softly.

  Misty touched his face, turning him to her. “Hmm?”

  “What am I going to do?” Graham asked, half to himself. “I can’t stay away from you.”

  For answer, she kissed him, sweet and fiery. Graham tenderly squeezed her breasts, his hands still inside her shirt, the warm goodness of her coming through his touch. Graham wrapped his foot around her bare ankle. One tug, and she’d go down. He’d guide her, holding her, so she’d never fall, but only lie down while he came over her. He’d start making love to her by peeling off her clothes and licking her body, then he’d spread her legs with his hand and slide into her.

  Goddess and God, he wanted that.

  A light shone full in his face. The sudden glare after the fine darkness with Misty hurt his eyes. Bloody hell.

  “I found flashlights,” Dougal announced. The cubs, still wolves, sat on their haunches, looking interested to know why Graham had his hands up Misty’s shirt.

  “Good.” Graham casually removed his touch from Misty’s breasts, as though not worried Dougal and the cubs had caught him groping her. Misty didn’t look worried, but amused Graham was embarrassed. “Give one to Misty. And don’t shine the lights in my face—I don’t need to be night-blinded.”

  “Thank you,” Misty said graciously to Dougal as she took the lantern flashlight. The large, square glare lit up the corner of the basement. Dougal smiled back at her. He was going to hero-worship her, it looked like.

  Graham glared down at Matt and Kyle. “All right, you little shits, where were you exploring?”

  • • •

  Graham kept hold of Misty’s hand as they walked deeper into the basement. His grip was strong; she wasn’t getting away.

  His touch had been gentleness itself when they’d kissed, as though he’d been holding back his power to be tender with her. Misty loved that about Graham—his ability to soften himself when he needed to, to take care of the cubs, to help Dougal, to caress Misty. Everything he did made Misty fall for him a little more.

  The cubs wanted to rush into the darkness, and only Graham’s commands kept them close. Misty shone her light in front of her feet so she wouldn’t trip, but she knew the cubs could see well without it. Shifters had good night vision and only needed the faintest glow.

  The basement was enormous. It was more of a dugout, with rock and desert earth still above them rather than joists to support the next floor. As they walked forward, the bright daylight behind them quickly receded.

  “Why is it so big?” Misty asked. “The house itself won’t be this long. Or wide.”

  “She shouldn’t be down here,” Dougal said, a growl in his voice.

  “No kidding,” Graham said. “Remember me yelling at you for bringing her? Misty, you have to promise to keep quiet about what you see here. That we’ve put in basements at all. All right? It’s very important. Could be deadly if you don’t keep it secret.”

  One of the wolves—Kyle, she thought—came back and shifte
d into a boy. Yep, Kyle. “Will you punish Aunt Misty if she tells?” he asked, his eyes round. “You might hurt her. She’s not as strong as Shifters.”

  “If I think Misty might tell,” Graham said, “I’ll tie her up, chain her to my bedpost, and . . .” Graham glanced at Misty, his eyes in the flashlight’s glare holding wickedness. “Tickle her,” he finished.

  Kyle thought this over, perfectly serious. “That should be okay.” He shifted back into wolf and ran after his brother.

  “Tickle?” Misty asked.

  “He means sex,” Dougal said. Shifter hearing—she couldn’t best it. “He wants sex with you in a big way. He’s broadcasting it like crazy.”

  “Shut it, Dougal,” Graham said with a growl.

  Dougal went quiet, but Misty felt no contrition from him. Good for Dougal, having fun laughing at his uncle.

  “Matt, Kyle,” Graham called. “Wait.”

  The cubs came to an immediate halt. The fact that they obeyed instantly, without question, told Misty how serious the situation was.

  Graham turned in a circle, sniffing the air. “You sure this was where you were?”

  One of the cubs shifted—Matt this time. “We came in here. We were exploring. Then we got dizzy. Then we were in the car.”

  “Mmm.” Graham’s acknowledgment was more of a grunt.

  “Did you hear anyone behind you?” Misty asked. She imagined the hiker—the Fae—creeping up behind the cubs in the dark, tranquilizing them somehow. Had he used a tranq gun like the one Graham kept to stop Shifters who got too out of control? Or chloroform on a cloth?

  “No,” Matt said. “There was no one down here but us.”

  “If you’re thinking of the Fae,” Graham said to Misty. “They’d have smelled him. Fae really stink.”

  “Does Reid stink?” Misty asked. “I like him.”

  “He does, but we’re used to him. And Reid’s not the same as the High Fae, much as I yank his chain about it. In fact, we could use him here. Dougal.”

  Dougal turned around, his laughter gone, the defiant nephew returning. “Oh, come on, why do I always have to run the errands? Find flashlights, fetch Reid. Like I’m your bloody servant.”

  “Winning one dominance fight doesn’t make you pack leader,” Graham said, voice going harsh. “You do these things for me because that’s what a good second does.”

  Dougal stopped, blinking gray eyes in the lantern light. “Second? I thought Chisholm was your second.”

  “I hadn’t decided. But I want to keep it in the family, don’t I? You’re my tracker too, which means you do things to support me.”

  The look on Dougal’s face was stunned, turning radiant by the time Graham finished. “Yes!” His shout rang around the large basement. “I’ll get him. I mean, I’m on it. Be right back.” Dougal bounded toward the light part of the basement. He whooped and punched the air, then scrambled up the ladder to the ground with amazing agility.

  “That was nice of you,” Misty said.

  “Huh. It wasn’t nice. I’m making him my pack and clan second, because I’m seeing that he’s the only one I can trust.” Graham watched until Dougal disappeared into the daylight, then he turned back to the darkness. “I’m going to need to go wolf now. Will you be all right if I do?”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Graham was asking her. Showing concern. Not, I’m doing this; too bad if you don’t like it. This was new.

  “I’ll be fine,” Misty said, warming.

  “Good. You can carry my clothes.”

  Figures. “Shouldn’t you wait for Dougal and Reid?” Misty asked as Graham pulled off his shirt. His hard chest came into view in her flashlight’s glare, wiry hair curling across it.

  “I want to know what we’re getting into. This basement goes back another fifty feet or so. Dougal will find us.”

  Graham yanked open the ties on his boots and pulled them off and his socks. Then, without shame, he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and took them off, the loose gray boxers underneath following.

  Graham wore his nakedness with the same comfort others wore their workout clothes. He stood easily with his feet in the gravelly dirt as he balled up his pants and shirt and thrust them at Misty.

  Misty immediately shook them out and folded them neatly, pretending to ignore Graham rolling his eyes. She tucked the clothes under her arm but left the boots and socks, because Graham seemed fine on his bare feet.

  In the light of her bright flashlight, Graham started his change. Fur rippled along his back and down his legs, his thighs bending to become the haunches of an upright wolf. His hands became giant paws very quickly, fur running up his arms, across his chest, and up his throat.

  Finally, his face changed to the long nose and glittering gray eyes of a wolf. His ears pricked out last, popping up from his head so quickly that Misty let out a laugh.

  Graham growled and charged her. Misty squealed and tried to sidestep, but Graham barreled into her. At the last minute, he pulled back the attack, ending up brushing her legs, his fur wonderfully warm.

  Misty stroked him, loving the wiry heat of his fur, the strength of his wolf’s body beneath it. Graham made a noise of what sounded like satisfaction, flowed around her again, and away.

  The wolf cubs ran for Graham, yipping in gladness. They jumped at Graham’s nose and rammed small heads into his front legs, until Graham lowered his head and bumped each in turn with his muzzle.

  Family, acknowledging family, Misty realized. That was the most important thing, when it came down to it. Family taking care of each other, as Misty had taken care of Paul and her father, as Graham took care of Dougal and the cubs.

  Graham growled at Matt and Kyle, and they seemed to understand him. They scooted underneath his belly, Graham so large that they had plenty of room. Graham started forward, the cubs giving a series of yelps. Guiding him in the right direction, Misty thought.

  She came behind, careful not to shine the light in front of Graham. Once they’d gone a few more yards, the darkness was complete. Misty couldn’t even see the square of light from outside behind her.

  Graham stopped, and Misty nearly ran into him. He started again as soon as she drew near his big back, and he rumbled at her. She interpreted that he wanted her to stay close.

  Another few steps, and she began to feel dizzy. The cubs whimpered. Graham stopped, and this time, Misty did run into him.

  Misty put her hand on Graham’s strong back, taking comfort in him. The cubs were whining louder, scared.

  The flashlight’s light snapped off. Misty shook the flashlight, but it was dead. Darkness fell upon her like a shroud. Her first instinct was panic, but she had Graham’s warm body under her hands. She was safe. Graham could see in the dark, and he’d protect her.

  Graham abruptly whipped around and snarled at her. Somewhere a glint of light shone on his eyes, or maybe his eyes glowed of their own accord. She saw his white teeth, all of them, bared. The sight was terrifying—eyes and teeth, snarls of a mad wolf.

  Graham’s wolf face shifted into a monster form, even more terrifying. He was snarling even as he changed. “Go back!” he yelled at her. “Run!”

  Now was not the time to ask why or tell him again he wasn’t the boss of her. Graham knew something she didn’t, down here in the darkness, and Misty was ready to take his advice. She turned in the direction of where she thought the basement opening should be, and fled.

  After three steps, she slipped, the floor having become slick for some reason, and went down, rocks cutting her knees beneath her skirt. It hurt, but wasn’t incapacitating.

  She scrambled up, heart beating wildly. Graham snarled again, a wolf once more, and Misty kept running.

  This time, she made it five steps before another wave of dizziness hit her. She had no idea whether she fell to her knees or flat on her face, because there was just . . .
nothing.

  Except Graham’s insistent voice, his hand on her abdomen. “Misty. Misty, damn it. Wake up.”

  Misty opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was Graham, his scarred face and broken nose over her, his gray eyes fixed on her.

  “Thank the Goddess,” he said in relief. “I thought—” Graham clamped his mouth shut. His eyes, though, completed the thought and showed pain.

  It was light where they were—lighter, anyway. Misty heard water running, a cool, soothing sound, but not from a faucet. More outdoorsy. More like . . .

  Misty sat up, taking in a sharp breath. The wolf cubs were huddled together next to Graham, silent and shaking. They sat on slick rock, in a dim, cool cave, which was enormous. Vines snaked around them, out of reach, bearing small scarlet, purple, and light blue flowers. Misty swallowed. “Trailing petunias.”

  “What?”

  “The flowers.” Misty pointed. “They’re trailing petunias. Grow on vines instead of in clumps.”

  “Oh, good,” Graham said. “I needed to know that.”

  The water trickled pleasantly, but the sound put a chill in Misty’s heart. They were in the cave where Misty had first met the hiker. Graham was naked, sitting on the black ground, his arms around Misty. She’d lost hold of his clothes, which were nowhere in sight.

  “How did we get here?” Misty asked, pushing her hair from her face. “What happened?”

  “I haven’t the faintest fucking idea. I got dizzy, went down, woke up here. The cubs were fine, but you wouldn’t wake up.”

  Misty swallowed. She didn’t have the needy thirst anymore, but the water called to her. Lovely. Cool. Drink.

  She gave Graham a sharp look. “You all right?”

  “I didn’t drink it, don’t worry.”

  Misty blew out a breath. “Good.”

  Graham moved his tongue over his lips, but they remained dry. Since the ordeal in the desert, Misty hadn’t seen him drink anything except a few sips of coffee, and the water he’d licked so erotically from her. She hadn’t seen him sleep either.