The Wolf Prince

by Karen Whiddon

  Willow’s face burned as everyone turned to look at her. Ruben thought she’d dressed exactly right for this expedition and opened his mouth to say so. But before he could, to his surprise, Eric jumped in to her rescue.

  “Willow looks very practical,” he said. “You’d do well to emulate her, Tatiana.”

  Chad grinned as Tatiana huffed. Studying the two brothers, one so handsome he seemed fake and the other much more normal-looking, Ruben wondered again what was off with the other man’s appearance—his features seemed misshapen somehow. Maybe he’d recently broken his nose? Whatever, Chad’s face lacked the perfect symmetry of all the other Brights. Even his hair appeared dull.

  “Shall we wait while Tatiana goes to change?” Willow asked, the sparkle in her voice letting him know that the instant her sister disappeared from sight, they’d be riding off.

  “I’m not changing,” Tatiana put in.

  “I thought you wanted to rough it.”

  She shrugged. “I did, at first. But then Eric insisted that we ride with every luxury, as befits the heirs of the Brights. Therefore, I need my best team hooked up to my day coach. Willow can ride with me if she likes.”

  Willow seemed properly horrified. Ruben and Chad exchanged glances while Eric studied his perfectly manicured fingernails.

  Meanwhile, Ruben’s patience ran out. “Listen up,” he said, his voice ringing with authority. “We’re not taking a coach. Tatiana, either go change or be ready to be left behind.”

  Eric raised his head as if to argue. Glaring at the other man, Ruben let part of his wolf self show as he dared the other man to say anything.

  Immediately, Eric looked away. “Do whatever he says, Tatiana. Hurry.”

  Golden brow furrowed, Tatiana glanced from one to the other before flouncing away.

  “Now,” Willow said, swinging her leg up over her horse’s back. “Let’s ride.”

  Grinning at the mischief in her voice, Ruben mounted. So did Chad. Only Eric continued standing, jaw rigid as he glanced from Ruben to Chad. “We can’t just leave her.”

  “Yes, we can,” Willow put in.

  “I don’t want to wait.” Ruben spurred his horse toward the gate. “If she wants to catch up with us later, more power to her. Otherwise, let’s go.”

  “Raise the gate,” Willow shouted, effectively cutting off whatever protest the other man had been about to make.

  Slowly, the massive gate began to rise. Watching as it creaked slowly to the top, Ruben wondered if they used rope and pulleys to raise it, rather than electronics. Another question he made a mental note to ask Willow about later.

  Finally, with the gate all the way up, they rode out. After taking his time tying up Tatiana’s horse, Eric brought up the rear, riding slowly, apparently lingering in the hope that Tatiana would reappear. Ruben had to admire Eric’s devotion to his new wife-to-be.

  “Do you think she’ll make it?” Chad asked no one in particular.

  “I doubt it. She takes hours to change clothes,” Willow answered, sounding relieved.

  But just as they’d cleared the castle and the gate had begun to lower again, they heard a feminine screech.

  Ruben winced, scratching the back of his neck. He exchanged a look with Chad, who shrugged.

  Willow grimaced. “That sounds like my sister.”

  A moment later, Tatiana came into view, leading her horse.

  “Wait!”

  With a sigh, Ruben signaled and they all reined to a halt. Tatiana vaulted gracefully onto her horse’s back and spurred the animal into a gallop. She caught up with them quickly, her color high and fury sparking from her bright violet eyes.

  Ruben braced himself for a tantrum. But, instead of spewing invectives, Tatiana smiled a completely insincere, falsely sweet smile. “Shall we go, gentlemen?” she asked, completely ignoring Willow.

  Without answering, Ruben nudged his horse forward.

  Though the idea had been to visit several villages outside of the castle proper, the landscape kept shifting. The first time it happened, Ruben halted, studying their surroundings distrustfully. His wolf snarled, uneasy, as well.

  The others looked at him curiously. They didn’t seem to notice the swirling landscape.

  “Did none of you see that?” he finally asked. “The horizon keeps changing. One minute I see mountains, the next a great distance of flat plains. There are trees now but if I look away and then back, I will see rock cliffs.”

  Chad laughed. “I forgot you were mortal. It’s only magic. Don’t worry about it.”

  Ruben eyed him in disbelief. “Don’t worry about it? How will we know where we’re going, never mind if we’ll ever arrive there?”

  “Because,” Eric broke in, using the exceedingly patient voice one might use to explain to a child. “We can see through the magic.”

  “I can’t.” Though he might be stating the obvious, Ruben didn’t understand how they could hope to reach a particular destination when everything kept shifting. “We’ve been riding an hour and I see no signs of any town or village. How far is this place anyway?”

  This time Chad and Eric exchanged glances, making Ruben uneasy. Had the two of them hatched up some sort of plan to get rid of him? If so, what did they plan to do with Willow and Tatiana?

  Since the others all had magic to help them, he realized he and Willow were severely outnumbered. Still, at this point, there was nothing he could do about it.

  When had he become so paranoid? Was this yet another sign of approaching insanity?

  They continued to ride, Ruben doing his best to concentrate only on the path directly in front of them.

  As darkness settled over the treetops, Willow brought up the subject of finding a place to camp for the night. Tatiana agreed with her, surprising everyone, Willow most of all, judging by the startled look on her face.

  Riding slightly off the path, Chad returned a few minutes later. “I’ve found a level clearing that would be a good place to camp.”

  And so it was decided. They began to make camp. As they pitched tents and dug a fire pit, he saw the way Willow kept watching him, as though she expected him to grow claws and fur at any moment. His skin crawled with energy, and he knew his beast lurked just below the surface, ready at any moment, to wrest control and break free.

  This had become his daily existence. As often happened these days, he wasn’t sure which was his true nature—man or beast.

  Later, after a completely unsatisfying meal of nuts and dried berries—again, Ruben had managed to forget that the Brights did not eat meat—they allowed the fire to smolder into embers and prepared to bunk down.

  Letting the women share one tent and the two brothers share another, Ruben had staked his bedroll near a group of sturdy trees, ensuring he had some kind of protection at his back.

  The others retired to their tents, the horses tied nearby. Quiet stole over the clearing, though out in the forest the night animals had begun to stir.

  Ruben’s stomach growled as he thought of roasting a plump rabbit. But when he imagined the horrified looks on his companion’s faces, he knew if he was to eat the meat necessary to sustain him, he’d have to do it as wolf.

  And there, he’d have to be very, very careful. Closing his eyes, he settled down to rest.

  Though the Pack scoffed at the human legends about werewolves, sleeping outside under a velvet sky and a full moon always made Ruben feel a bit...odd. Out of sorts, uncomfortable in his own skin. He supposed there had to be some shred of truth in the old legends; most fables were born this way, from a long-ago occurrence combined with centuries of embellishment.

  That night, Ruben’s wolf came to him in a dream, trying yet another method to win dominance over his corporal body. Though he had prepared himself for just this eventuality, this time he’d been so involved in a pleasant dream involving Willow and kisses, he nearly missed the danger when it presented itself.

  Where before his inner beast had fought him using traditional means, this n
ight the wolf snuck up quietly, not making him aware of its presence until the last possible moment. Then—ambush! The beast attacked.

  Half asleep, still in the throes of an absolutely wonderful dream, at first, Ruben couldn’t muster the wits to fight back.

  Then, as his bones began to lengthen and change, he lost. There, in the middle of the forest, surrounded by slumbering Sidhe, he became wolf.

  Once the change had completely finished, he took a few steps and paused. In a world where scent ruled, at first the wolf was confused. These people smelled nothing like Pack or humans, but still their scents enticed.

  With what little bit of human self-control he had left, Ruben forced the beast to leave the encampment and travel deep into the forest to hunt.

  Filtered through the eyes of his beast, Ruben took great pleasure in the hunt. Since the Sidhe, or at least the Brights, were all apparently vegetarians, the forest was full of plump game. He caught a rabbit and a pheasant and devoured them both, glorying in his power and the renewed strength the meat-based protein brought.

  Finally sated, he roamed the woods, thrilling to the feel of the damp and fertile earth under all four of his powerful paws.

  He ran, just for the pleasure of it, enjoying the way the lesser animals scattered in blind panic as he approached. Tearing through the forest, heedless of the noise he made, he circled around the encampment, always staying within a mile, just in case anyone needed him.

  Finally exhausted, he slowed to a walk, then let his familiar furry body sink to the forest floor, panting. He lay in the undergrowth, loving life, happy for the first time he could remember.

  He hadn’t been truly happy—alive, in the moment—since the last time he’d been wolf. Other than, some part of him whispered, when he’d kissed Willow. Immediately, he shoved the thought away.

  The human part of him, still sentient, though relegated to only a small part of the wolf’s brain, knew he eventually would have to shift back to human. He knew also that the wolf would fight this and the battle would be tremendous.

  But to remain wolf—as his soul longed to do—was to become mad. Feral. He’d heard stories of Ferals flinging themselves from cliffs or dashing in front of semi-trucks, all in a bid to escape madness.

  However tempting remaining wolf might seem, the short life of a Feral was not a fate he wished for himself.

  Gradually, the moon sank lower, vanishing behind the treetops on its trip toward the horizon. Ruben-as-wolf finally pushed to his feet and Ruben-the-man made the first attempt to force the change.

  As expected, the wolf resisted.

  Thrashing, biting at an external enemy that only existed within, anyone watching would have guessed the animal mad. In a way, there was a kernel of truth; the wolf’s desire to remain in corporeal shape hovered right at the precipice of insanity.

  And the man knew he had to win, at all costs, at any cost.

  The horizon flushed pink as the darkness lightened. Still Ruben and the wolf fought its solitary/dual battle, rolling and snapping, growling and biting at an unseen enemy as well as itself.

  Any other time he would have sensed her. Any other time, the soft sound of her footsteps on the carpet of leaves wouldn’t have been silent enough. He would have detected her scent, which he’d always recognize as individually hers, long before she reached him.

  Instead, preoccupied with the battle to change/not to change, Willow was nearly on top of him before he realized. Apparently unafraid, she reached out to him and stroked his fur.

  The wolf’s first impulse was to snap. With a supreme effort of will, Ruben kept the beast from biting her.

  Willow, crooning softly, reaching out to gather the crazed animal close to her breast.

  Ruben thought his heart would stop beating. Even the wolf, now uncertain, confused, held its breath.

  As she caressed his fur, the animal began to relax. Though he didn’t want to shock her, Ruben seized this moment and initiated the change back to human. Taken by surprise, the wolf couldn’t muster enough strength to fight.

  Ruben became man again, right there in Willow’s arms.

  One thing all Shifters knew was that the moment they changed back to flesh, adrenaline blazed through the veins like lightning. The human body reacted with instant arousal. This would become glaringly obvious the instant the change was finished.

  As the animal changed shape with her soft hands still buried in its fur, Willow let out a soft cry. To her credit, she didn’t try to jump up or dislodge the beast rapidly shifting from wolf to man.

  “Ruben?” she asked, sounding uncertain but markedly unafraid.

  At first he could not speak; still locked within the throes of the change, he could only growl.

  As his bones settled back into place and the fur disappeared, he tried again to force words past his still evolving throat.

  Then. Man. Completely.

  With one swift motion, he rolled away from her, landing on his soft human belly in the cushioning leaves. His powerful erection under him, hard and aching.

  Though he knew she had to have seen it, at least he could lay this way, breathing the scent of the wild forest, until his arousal subsided. Breathing hard, he closed his eyes and willed her to go away, to leave him to come to grips with the act of being human once again.

  This time, the horrible sense of loss he always felt seemed to have vanished. Puzzled, he tried to understand, but though the wolf normally lurked just under the surface, the beast appeared to have retreated further into the dark recesses of Ruben’s psyche.

  “Ruben?” she said again. “Are you all right?”

  Evidently she wasn’t going away until he answered her.

  “I’m fine,” he ground out, his body pulsing with need. “Please. Go back to your tent.”

  “But—”

  “Go. Away.”

  If he expected her to comply, he was more delusional than he’d realized. Instead, she did the opposite, crawling across the pine needles and dead leaves until she reached him. This time, she tangled her hand in his hair rather than his pelt. This time, she pressed her body close as she stroked and caressed the man rather than the wolf.

  And this time, when she pressed her soft lips against his jaw, he lost all control.

  He rolled, pulling her down on top of him, pressing himself into her. She let out a soft cry, one of encouragement rather than fear, and impossibly he felt himself grow even larger, even harder.

  He locked her in his arms. Now fully man, they gazed into each other’s eyes. Naked, his skin tingled where she touched him, and he dimly realized her clothing was a barrier that would have to go.

  As if she had the exact same thought, she pulled her sleeping shift over her head, letting it drop to the forest floor. Naked, her full breasts gleamed in the predawn light, her dusky pebbled nipples inviting his tongue.

  Her grip tightened as he took her into his mouth. She arched her back, making a soft sound of pleasure. Though he wouldn’t have believed he could get harder, the sudden surge of desire had him stretching to huge dimensions, throbbing.

  When she closed her small hand around the hard length of him, he jolted, nearly losing his already tenuous control. Her fingers seared him, the movement hot and sensuous, pleasure and pain combining in her touch.

  Just when he thought he could bear no more, she rose up and settled over him, taking him deep inside her. The moist heat of her body surrounded him, welcome and titillating.

  He writhed beneath her, pushing deeper. Her hands came up, tangled in his hair as she pulled him to her. He crushed her mouth with his, blazing hot, his tongue mimicking the movements of his body.

  Flesh silky against flesh, they moved together in exquisite harmony. Blazing, a bright torch soaring in an explosion of need and desire.

  When she shattered, her climax pulsing around him, he gasped in agony, trying to hold on to the last shreds of his control. Failing, he crested on the wave of a release so powerful he swore the earth moved under his bod
y.

  Panting, they clung to each other, wordless and awestruck. He didn’t pretend not to know what this met—his kind found their true mate only once.

  But Willow? She was Sidhe, neither human nor Pack, and she came from a place that existed in another space and time.

  Shoving away his disquieting thoughts, he kissed the smooth swell of her shoulder. She made a sound, a quiet murmur of contentment, then reached for her sleep shift. Smoothing the garment, she dropped it over her head and smiled at him.

  “I brought you peace,” she said. “Your wolf is very troubled. I can help him, I think, if you’ll let me.”

  Whatever he’d expected, it hadn’t been this. He opened and closed his mouth, biting back the instinctively harsh words he’d been about to say.

  He didn’t need her help. He hadn’t asked for it, and for her to offer... With a sigh, he dropped his head.

  This was something that would require thought. For now, he had other, more pressing issues.

  Pushing to his feet, conscious of his nakedness, he held out his hand to help her up. “Come on. We’d better get back to camp before we’re missed.”

  Eyes huge in her heart-shaped face, she bit her lip but did as he’d asked.

  They walked a few feet, the silence feeling absurdly loud, before he found the right words to say.

  “I’m sorry,” he told her. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

  “Not with your body,” she quipped, sounding almost angry. “I came to you of my own free will. But your refusal to let me help you—that’s another story. I heal wounded animals. That’s what I do. And I can help you, I sense it.” Her voice trembled, dancing around on the edge of tears.

  Chest tight, he stopped and turned to face her. “Despite the fact that I think you mean your offer with sincerity, I’m not a charity case,” he said. “I’m here only to find this killer and bring him to justice. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  Slowly she nodded, the unhappiness that shadowed her beautiful face making him want to kiss her again and drive every bit of the darkness away.