by Kamryn Hart
Just as soon as I had accessed my moonlight form, I could feel it slipping away. My sharp eyes caught sight of thick foliage and trees where I could hide, and I ran. I had only seconds.
I glanced behind me, hoping the werewolves in the roader would leave me be. My heart dropped, and I pumped my legs harder. Three massive wolves were on my tail: two white, one gray-brown. The roader was in the process of turning around. They were all coming for me and fast.
It wasn’t going to work. This was why I hadn’t used this drop of moonlight sooner. My legs were slowing, rebelling. My moonlight form was fading away, and I was panting with the effort of holding on to it by sheer willpower alone.
Then something hit me. Hard. It was one of the white wolves. This one was speckled with gray. He tackled me to the ground. The force knocked my mother’s journal out of my mouth. It went skidding across dirt and grass, and I was grounded, back against the earth. Still, I hung on to my moonlight form as I growled, struggling to break free of the bigger wolf pinning me down as I nipped at him. I howled in gut-wrenching defeat as I fought to keep my moonlight form. I couldn’t push him off when I was at war with myself.
The wolf above me shifted. When all the white fur was replaced with black smooth skin, I saw the Caspian I recognized.
He was good at catching me.
Blue was drifting from him, and his eyes were glowing with power. He was still using moonlight to keep me down even though he had shifted.
“Shift back,” he commanded.
I growled and tried to bite him again, but he used a strong hand to hold my muzzle shut. I hated this weakness. I hated being without moonlight.
The blue emanating from Caspian heated up, glowing white-hot. I thought he would try to command me again, but then it faded. The moonlight encompassing him receded, and he let my muzzle go.
“Please, shift back,” he repeated, kindly this time, asking. “I can see you don’t have any moonlight left. I don’t know how you’re still in your moonlight form.”
I looked past him to the moon overhead. It was so close to full, but close wasn’t enough. I couldn’t stop panting. I’d have no choice but to give up this form no matter what I did, so I let it go.
My black fur withdrew. My flesh and skeleton reverted. I was back to my base form. The bare skin of my back was cold against the earth, but there was sweat on my brow from all the exertion. Heat radiated from Caspian’s skin, and I was hyper-aware of the places he was touching me. His inner thighs pressed against the outside of my own, and his hands were on my wrists. Then he moved. He got off me and stood up without me having to ask him to, to beg him to. He wasn’t like Charles.
I splayed my legs, planting my feet wide, and sat up, using my arms for support, but I didn’t go any farther than that. I had never seen a male of my own kind naked before, obviously, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. His black skin reached every inch of his body like I knew it should, but seeing it was different. Seeing the muscles rippling underneath that same skin without layers of clothes to conceal the definition, each and every curve and indent like he had been meticulously sculpted, was mesmerizing. I was curious just like I had been curious when Leer, Den, and Nash had come to take me away, but this wasn’t the same. Caspian and his werewolves were close to my age. Looking at Caspian like this, right now, made my core simmer.
Caspian wasn’t looking at me, his head was turned over his shoulder as he spoke to the others, telling them to bring me clothes or something. I wasn’t paying attention. My eyes were wandering down his chest, and my fingers were reaching out tentatively to touch him even though he wasn’t within touching distance. His broad shoulders and chest tapered down to narrow hips and a patch of curly pubic hair. My eyes rested on his half-erect penis. It was growing more erect, swelling. Engorging.
“My eyes are up here, Princess.”
Caspian’s baritone voice startled me out of my stupor. I slowly looked up to meet his gaze. There was discomfort in his sapphire-speckled eyes. The skin was pulled too tight at the corners like he was trying to stop himself from grimacing. There was also something familiar. His gaze was heated, hungry like Den’s had been, like Charles’s, like every werewolf I had met in Paws Peak.
He cleared his throat. “You are not shy.”
I scowled. “What?”
He raised an eyebrow at me, the same expression he made when I told him I’d rip off his balls if he didn’t let me go when we first met. His eyes shifted downward, between my legs, then they shot back up to my face. This time he did grimace.
The heat was still in his eyes.
The roader rolled up next to us as Aerre and Rodrick walked next to it. They were fully dressed. Aerre thrust a pile of clothes at Caspian and said, “Get a grip.”
Caspian took the clothes and immediately started dressing after turning his back to me.
Todd hopped out of the roader, but he held back a few steps with Rodrick. Aerre came to me next. He was carrying more clothes. He shifted them to one arm and held out a hand to me. I took it, and he helped me to my feet. His hand was warm. So warm.
“These weren’t made for a werea, so they’ll likely be big, but it’s better than nothing,” he said, handing me some baggy undergarments, a large long-sleeved shirt made of wool, and loose pants with long legs that I would have to roll up.
I accepted the clothes. I was freezing and grateful for them and immediately began dressing. Aerre tuned his head over his shoulder, reluctant to look at me. I watched as the little lump in his throat dipped as he swallowed.
When I was dressed, Todd walked up to me. He was holding my mother’s journal. “Dropped this,” he said as he brushed off the dirt.
“Thank you.” I was glad to have it back in my arms.
Todd bowed his head and scratched the back of his neck. Strands of fire-red hair peeked out from under his black cap. As if he just realized what he was doing, he abruptly stopped and pulled the cap down, hiding all traces of red—except for the tint of red showing through the freckles of his pale cheeks. I had the urge to touch his cheeks, to check if they were as warm as they looked. But I didn’t.
I sighed and made a decision. If I was captive again, I would make the most of it—and I could only hope this experience would somehow be better than the last. And I didn’t have to give up my freedom forever. The full moon would come the night after the next. It wasn’t too long to wait if these werewolves kept treating me as well as they had so far. I could handle it.
And, though I didn’t want to admit it, I didn’t actually want to be alone. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I still hoped there was a pack out here I could befriend. Werewolves, humans, vampires, none of it mattered to me as long as there was kindness and the possibility of understanding. Those things led to friendship. Those things led to family.
I missed my family. I wondered if I should have hated Babaga for what she did to me, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I missed her. I missed the woods.
“I have a lot of questions,” I said quietly.
“Can questions wait until we’re back in the roader and moving?” Caspian replied.
“I don’t have a choice, do I?”
“I suppose not.” He frowned. “It really is for your own safety, Princess. And I’ll answer any questions you have. How does that sound?”
It was my turn to raise an eyebrow at him. Did he genuinely care about my willingness to go with them? It seemed like it.
“Okay,” I said.
“Great.” He smiled. “Let’s hit the road.”
I looked from him, the first potentially nice werewolf I had met and the first I had seen naked, to red-cheeked Todd, no-nonsense Aerre, and carefree Rodrick. They were nothing alike, but they shared Caspian’s potential for kindness.
Maybe I could befriend these werewolves.
CHAPTER 12
CASPIAN
MY BODY WAS ACHING with a need I had never felt before. The Lost Princess of Howling Sky was a temptress—or I was so deprived of
sex I had lost all self-control. I tended to do my best when leading with my head, or my heart as Aerre might have claimed, rather than with an alpha’s instinct and power or whatever. But I couldn’t deny that the princess did something to me. I blamed it on indecent exposure and that neglected sex drive I mentioned. It never seemed to mind being neglected before.
This was going to be a long drive.
The princess was looking at me expectantly from the backseat of the roader. I was glad I was sitting up front with Todd—and I also despised it. I was jealous of Rodrick and Aerre, sitting next to her, nearly touching her. The Lost Princess was the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on, the first werea close to my age I had the privilege of being near; she just turned eighteen and I was twenty-three. Her comfort and trust were my top priorities, but “instinct” was fogging up my head. She was covered in dirt and grime, but that didn’t matter. I could see through it—or my imagination had run wild too.
I studied her dark-brown hair. It was slipping out of a pile that was carefully placed on top of her head, revealing natural curls. The patches of her skin that glowed through the grayish smudges of grime was a warm bronze. Her eyes were dark, a warm brown with a reddish tint like a sunset. She was wearing some generic clothes we brought along, and they were baggy as hell on her, but I knew what she looked like underneath. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat that was making it hard to speak. Her body was lean with muscle she must have gained while living her entire life in the Witch Woods. I held back a shudder when I remembered the perfect curve of her breasts, her nipples taut from the cold. Wide hips, smooth thighs. Gods, and then the way she had her legs perfectly splayed to show me everything.
I had to push those thoughts aside before my hard-on, pressing insistently against my combat pants, got painfully uncomfortable.
It was unfortunate she didn’t feel the same way. Well, not that it changed anything, but I wasn’t getting the same wave of heat from her that I had projected. I wanted to take her right then and there when she was naked underneath me. Admitting that made me feel a little queasy. That kind of impulsiveness wasn’t like me. And it was obvious this werea was clueless. Almost completely. I was certain she had never been with a male, though that bite between her neck and right shoulder would usually mean otherwise. This was another alpha, or just a typical werewolf, instinct-based observation, but I was convinced Prince Charles hadn’t sealed the deal.
She wasn’t bound to him, and that was a great relief. But it also didn’t change anything for me. My desires could and would never be acted on. I wouldn’t pursue her to any degree because I couldn’t have her. It was truly unfortunate because there was much more than a physical attraction pulling me toward her. She made me smile easily, with no effort, without even realizing I was doing it. I wanted to know her.
“Caspian,” Sorissa said, exasperated, “you said you’d answer my questions, but we’ve been sitting here in absolute silence.”
“You haven’t asked any questions yet,” I defended. “Wereas fir—”
“Stop saying that.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want any special treatment from you. Any of you.” She made a point to look at all of us, requiring eye contact. She even stared at the rearview mirror until Todd glanced up at it to meet her eyes indirectly. “You’re werewolves. I’m a werewolf too.”
“But you’re a female,” I replied.
“So? Females are supposed to be shy? I’m not shy. Obviously. I’m assertive.”
A grin was on my face before I even knew what happened. Then I was laughing. Todd wore the hint of a smile. Rodrick laughed that low laugh of his that meant he was very amused. Aerre had his face screwed up like he was trying not to smile. What was this werea doing to us?
“Obviously,” I restated. I liked her more each time she opened her mouth. “Do you know a single thing about modesty or did your witch let you run bare-ass naked in the woods all the time?”
She looked offended, the way her mouth slipped open and her eyebrows furrowed into a cute scowl. “Of course not! The woods were way too cold for that unless I was in my moonlight form.” She didn’t answer my question about modesty. “And my witch has a name. It’s Babaga.”
I admitted I had no idea what kind of relationship the Witch of Witch Woods and the Lost Princess could have, but I hadn’t expected this.
“You act like you don’t care that a witch kept you locked up in some isolated woods for all these years,” I said.
She frowned. “She loved me.”
“Did you love her?”
“I still love her.”
“Really? Because you didn’t seem all that happy when I found you in Paws Peak. She sent you there, didn’t she?”
Her frown deepened.
“Caspian,” Aerre warned, “enough.”
Right. What am I doing? The dejected look on the Lost Princess’s face made my stomach twist up, and I felt guilty.
Since Phantom Fangs was formed, I spent a lot of my time keeping Aerre and Rodrick from killing each other, but there were also times like this when Aerre put me in my place. I wasn’t sure he realized it, but he was my oldest and closest friend. I relied on him more than anyone. He was much more of a brother to me than my blood-related brothers.
“Sorry,” I said. “So what do you want to know, Princess? I’m supposed to be answering your questions, right?”
“I want to know why,” she said softly. “Why were you looking for me? Why did you take me from Paws Peak, and why are you taking me to Wolf Bridge now?”
“Because you’re the Lost Princess, Princess Sorissa va Lupin of Howling Sky. We wouldn’t have known about you if we hadn’t been spying on Paws Peak a week ago, though. They wanted to use you. Thanks to Todd’s bugs, you’re safe. Keeping you safe is the reason we’re taking you back to Wolf Bridge, like I said before.”
“Bugs?” Her small nose wrinkled with the face she was making. “What could bugs tell you? Todd can communicate with insects?”
Todd’s eyes widened as he gripped the steering wheel tighter and made a jerky turn to follow the road.
Rodrick let out another rumbling laugh. “I like this girl.”
Todd reached for his utility belt and produced one of his bugs. It was the size of a lady-bug, so it was close enough to an insect. “This is one of my bugs,” he said, reaching back.
The princess took the black dot from him and held it between her fingers as she squinted at it.
“It’s tech,” Todd continued. “It can stick onto almost anything when you peel off that thin film, and it transmits audio to my pactputer.”
“Pactputer?”
“More tech.”
“But you can hear whatever these bugs hear.”
“…Basically.”
“Fascinating,” the princess remarked as she inspected the bug with newfound interest. I was shocked by the sincere tone of her voice.
“The only bad part is that the range is limited,” Todd continued. “My pactputer is a hotspot. It produces a tech field. So, unless those bugs are within the tech field, I don’t get any audio.”
I wondered when I should step in. Todd was about to go off on a tangent. I could tell. The werewolf hardly ever spoke a word without coaxing it out of him, but if you got him started on tech, it could be difficult to make him stop.
“We would have gotten to you before Paws Peak had if our roader hadn’t broken down,” Rodrick commented. “Todd’s a certifiable tech wizard and whatever but even he can’t be prepared for everything.”
“Todd has great skill in technocraft,” the princess said with a nod.
“T-technocraft?” Todd sputtered.
“Right, the magic you used to bring all this metal to life and mold it to your will.”
“It’s not magic. It’s science, engineering, programming. I build and invent things, but none of it is alive.”
“Not like you or me, but it seems alive in a way. It’s amazing.”
&n
bsp; Todd’s cheeks went bright red. It was easy for that color to permeate his pale skin, but he wasn’t one for emotion, so I hardly ever saw it. In the short time the Lost Princess had been with us, I’d seen it more than ever before. She caught his attention, an accomplishment no other living being had ever achieved.
I glanced at the bite marring the princess’s skin. She had cuts and bruises in several places, but that wound was the worst. We could mend the others, but a claiming bite would be tricky—even though I was almost certain the Mate Claim wasn’t fulfilled. Prince Charles would have seen the princess back in the shadows if it had been. He would have sensed her, turned his head.
Maybe I should have hunted Prince Charles down, but that would have been a declaration of war—not that stealing the princess was any less of a declaration since we were seen. Paws Peak still might have blamed us, but they would have had no proof until the King of Wolf Bridge had decided to announce her presence. It would have worked out better in terms of war and politics. As for Prince Charles, hunting him down and eliminating him right then would have been a problem. He was surrounded by guards. I would have put the princess at greater risk. I made the right choice. I hoped.
It was time for me to ask a question I had been avoiding because I didn’t want to somehow be wrong about the Mate Claim.
“Princess, that bite. Prince Charles gave you it, right?”
“Yes.”
“Did he seal it?”
“I don’t know.”
I ran a hand down my face. “Did he have sex with you?”
“No. I kicked him in the balls.”
Rodrick laughed again. This time his laughter was a roiling rumble that filled the roader. “Gods!” he exclaimed, slapping his knee. “I wish I could have seen his face. Did he cry?”