Shades of the Wolf

by Karen Whiddon

  Mentally cursing the other man, Tyler fought the urge to tell her not to answer. Instead he watched her, waiting for her to make the choice.

  “I’m not in the mood to deal with him,” she announced, tossing the still-ringing phone on the bed. “Come on. Let’s get out in the woods before something else happens. We can start doing some exploring, looking for those landmarks. As wolves, we can cover a lot more ground much faster than as humans.”

  When she held out her hand, he took it. Together they ran across the field, letting the welcoming shadows of the forest envelop them.

  “This time, we’ll change together,” she said, lifting her chin, her gaze locked with his.

  Heat shimmered between them. Mouth dry, he nodded. As she pulled her T-shirt over her head and stepped out of her shorts, he couldn’t breathe.

  “Hurry,” she urged him, a hint of amusement in her voice. Riveted, he could no more move than stop his heart from beating.

  The bra came off next and then finally her panties. She stood before him, unabashed, looking like some sensual wood nymph.

  He actually took a step toward her.

  “I’m going to leave you behind,” she warned, dropping to all fours and casting him a reproving look before initiating the change.

  Hurriedly, he shed his clothes and did the same, gritting his teeth at the remembered pain.

  When he opened his eyes again, he was wolf.

  Alive. Narrowing his eyes, he looked for her, not seeing her. Which was okay, because as wolf, his nose told him exactly which way she’d gone.

  As he raced after her, his powerful muscles working perfectly, four paws pounding the damp earth, he marveled at the joy of feeling so alive. For just this moment, he’d immerse himself in the experience. For this space in time, he’d simply live.

  They ran and played, hunted and shared the rabbit he caught. Though he hesitated a moment at taking a life, since he’d been given one on borrowed time, it wasn’t in the nature of wolf to let prey escape. From the laughing look in Anabel’s exotic wolf eyes, he suspected she approved.

  When they’d had their short recreation, the hunt was on. Even though the light was fading, they could see well enough, guided by their sense of smell.

  Ranging far and wide, he felt they’d covered a lot of ground. And saw nothing like the landmarks Anabel had drawn.

  He didn’t know how much time had passed, but finally they turned around and made their way back to the clearing where they’d left their human clothing.

  At the thought of what might happen next, his heart began pounding. All shifters knew the change from wolf back to human made the physical body aroused. Whether or not they chose to act upon it was up to the individual.

  He knew what he wanted. But would Anabel want the same?

  Chapter 15

  Aware that once he became man, desire would overcome his body, Tyler knew watching Anabel become human would prove too much for him, so he turned away. With so much urgency driving him, he used every ounce of self-control he possessed not rushing his own change. Instead he focused on the uncomfortable sensation of wolf turning to human.

  This helped, at least during the shape-shifting. But once he’d finished and pushed to his feet, stark naked and more aroused than he’d ever been, and turned to look at her, all his resolutions vanished. The raw longing on her face as she watched him gave him his answer.

  She wanted him.

  A part of him knew she could just need to blow off steam. That same part realized, in the end, this could only make the pain worse once he left her. But with desire pulsing through every cell in his body, he couldn’t walk away.

  Elation mingled with raw wanting as he slowly climbed to his feet, trying to control the dizzying current racing through him. Her gaze soft as a caress, she held out her arms. He went to her, sweeping her into his arms.

  His.

  He slid his hands up her arms, heart thudding a rapid tattoo. The dizzying feel of her, this woman, made his fingertips tingle as he touched her. The jolt of her hip brushing his thigh, the warmth of her body as she curved herself into him, invited more.

  First, he kissed her with his eyes, his featherlight touch. And then, as his mouth covered hers hungrily, he traced the inside of her mouth with his tongue and kissed her there.

  Her answering shudder told him what that did to her.

  As she moaned and kissed him back, he realized he finally understood what all the books and movies said about love.

  He loved this woman. Anabel, his mate. Though he knew he shouldn’t, couldn’t, he made a vow never to leave her. And then he sealed that vow with another deep, drugging kiss.

  Naked, skin to skin, flesh to flesh. His. She belonged to him, as much as he belonged to her.

  Gently, he outlined the circle of her nipple, before taking it in his mouth. He slid his hand down the silk of her belly, tangling in her womanly curls, before parting the folds between her legs and stroking the dampness there.

  Her gasp was a reward of sorts, but the tremors that shook her and the rush of honey that followed nearly sent him over the edge.

  Then he knelt before her and put his mouth in place of his hand, using his tongue to continue the caresses as he drank her in. Head back, body arched, she cried out as pleasure overtook her in waves and she came apart.

  Again he barely restrained himself. Only the knowledge that he wanted more kept him sane. Aware he could never have enough of her—however many days he’d be granted alive would never suffice—he knew he had to sink himself deep inside her. At least once.

  Finally, she shook her head and pulled him to his feet, her gaze smoldering, the sleek caress of her body a blatant invitation as she tugged him to the ground.

  Wrapped around each other, his arousal pressing against her desire-slicked skin, he tried to hold back, tried to maintain some semblance of control before he entered her.

  And then she pushed him onto his back and climbed onto him, taking him inside her in one smooth motion. He froze as wave after wave of pleasure engulfed him, desperate to prolong the pleasure.

  But she began to move, her body wrapping around him as if she’d been made for him. He cried out, bucking her slow, deliberate motions, driven by the need to move faster, harder.

  “Wait,” she said, lifting herself just above him, her hands on his wrists, holding him down. “Please. Wait.”

  Shuddering, he managed to wrest control over his body and managed—just barely, chest heaving, heart pounding—to keep himself still.

  With a seductive smile, she leaned close, claiming his mouth in a passionate kiss and writhing just out of his reach. The sleek caress of her body as she deepened the kiss made his senses reel.

  “Now,” she gasped, still raised up over him. “Now.”

  As she came down hard on his arousal, her body slick and hot and welcoming, he groaned. And then he took over, rolling so he was on top, plunging himself into her hot, wet depth.

  She arched her back, meeting him thrust for thrust. He cried out in sweet agony, her voice echoing his, and power—magic—spiraled around them, through them, between them, intensifying every touch, every stroke. All at once, he could see images of what she wanted, and the instant the thought occurred to him, he did exactly that.

  Pleasing her became more important than breathing, and when her body shuddered and clenched around him as she reached her climax, he used the magic to maintain an iron control on his own body.

  This, he thought, was how sex should be. This was how true mates made love. And then as she began to move again under him, he didn’t do much thinking at all.

  When he finally let himself go, he drove into her, fiery sensations pure and explosive, and shattered into a thousand stars.

  After, as he held her in his arms, both too exhausted to mov
e, he understood the true meaning of satisfaction. More than simple bodily pleasure, more even than the give-and-take between two perfectly matched people. This.

  No, what he and Anabel had just shared was a kind of vow. A promise of shared sunsets, cuddling next to each other while the snow fell, of laughter and joy, shared tears and hope and dreams. Unfortunately, sorrow filled him as he realized it was a vow he could never keep.

  Stirring, Anabel kissed him lightly on the cheek as if she understood. “Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s go back to the motel and clean up. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

  “I am too,” he said, getting to his feet and pulling her up. He spoke the truth, only he didn’t say that he was starved for much more than food.

  An hour later, they finished the fast food—a burger for him, a salad with fries for her—they’d picked up and brought back to their room. Leroy snoozed on the bottom of one bed and Tyler and Anabel sat together on the edge of the other.

  Only then did she glance at the cell phone she’d tossed aside earlier when Polacek called. “He left a message.”

  “You don’t have to play it back,” Tyler began. “He’s a bully. He gave you forty-eight hours. I don’t think your time is up yet.”

  “It’s not.” She bit her lip. “What if he has something to say about your sister?”

  Considering, he finally held out his hand for the phone. “Let me listen to it.”

  Without hesitation, she handed her cell over. “I’m going to go take a shower,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll tell me if he has anything to say that I need to hear.”

  He waited until he heard the shower start up before pressing the play button on the message.

  Instead of calling to gloat, Polacek had left a simple message asking Anabel if she’d made up her mind. On impulse, Tyler pressed the callback button.

  Polacek answered immediately. “Ah, so you have reached a decision,” he began.

  “No, she hasn’t,” Tyler said, trying to remain calm. “But she would like to know why you set that fire.”

  “Fire?” The other man sounded genuinely puzzled. “Who are you and what are you talking about?”

  “Someone set Anabel’s house on fire. And I’m Anabel’s friend. Her close friend.”

  Polacek went silent. “I can assure you I did not do that. Now I’d like to speak to Anabel herself if you don’t mind.”

  “I do mind. And Anabel is in the shower.”

  There was an even longer silence this time. “I wasn’t aware she had a boyfriend.”

  This time, Tyler kept quiet. For effect.

  “This might be a problem.” Quiet fury rang in Polacek’s voice. “Have you and she been intimate recently?”

  Instead of answering, Tyler pressed the end-call button.

  The shower went off. Getting up, he carried the phone over to the dresser and set it down.

  He actually believed Polacek. From what he’d seen, if the Drakkor had set the fire, he’d have been bragging about it.

  A few minutes later, Anabel emerged from the bathroom, her long hair damp. She gave him a sleepy smile. “Well, what did he have to say?”

  Grimacing, he relayed the gist of the conversation. “I’m not sure what he’s up to. But clearly, he’s worried I might have impregnated you.”

  “Wow.” She dropped onto the bed next to Leroy, startling the cat awake. “I didn’t even think about that.”

  “Neither did I.” Though he couldn’t imagine anything more wonderful, if he were really alive, he kept that admission to himself. “We didn’t use any protection.”

  “You’re a ghost.” Her indignant protest made him wince.

  “I was a ghost,” he corrected her. “Right now I’m a man. And because of this, your getting pregnant is a very real possibility. Unless you’re on birth control?”

  She shook her head. “I wasn’t exactly planning on this happening. However, since it has, it might work to my advantage. He’ll want to wait until I have proof I didn’t conceive with you. That will buy me some time.”

  Everything inside him quieted at her words. “What are you planning to do? Surely you’re not thinking of going to that monster.”

  “I know you don’t like the idea of me agreeing to exchange myself for Dena,” Anabel said, holding up her finger the instant he started to interrupt. “But hear me out. I think if we work together on this, with a little bit of luck, we can make this work.”

  “I’m not a big fan of luck,” he replied, his chest aching. “Still, I’m listening.”

  She grabbed her tote bag and pulled out one of the books she’d borrowed from Juliet. This particular volume appeared older than the others, with a well-worn, heavily embossed leather cover.

  Placing it on the bed, she locked gazes with him. “You’re familiar with the mythic story of Persephone? She was one of the few living beings to travel to the underworld.”

  “She was the daughter of a goddess. Demeter, if I remember right,” he said.

  “She alternates between living and dying. She dwells in the afterlife part of the year.”

  “It’s myth. Not real. There is no underworld.”

  “Symbolism. Underworld, afterlife, it’s all the same. Anyway, the story of Alcestis is what interests me most. When Alcestis traveled to the underworld to offer her own life in place of her dying husband’s, Persephone sent her back and spared them both.”

  “Okay.” He kept his tone even. “I still don’t see what this has to do with our situation.”

  Her smile turned mysterious, fascinating him. “Well, according to this book, Alcestis was Pack.”

  Skeptical but intrigued, he moved closer. “Show me.”

  Still smiling, she flipped open the heavy book to a place she’d bookmarked. “Here. Read this.”

  Skimming it, he saw the author—or authors, since the tome appeared to be a compilation of ancient stories and myths from numerous races and species—claimed Alcestis had been a shape-shifter, one of the earliest members of a rudimentary pack.

  “That’s impressive,” he said, looking up from the book. “And while I usually enjoy learning new bits of our ancestral history, how is this going to help us win against Doug Polacek?”

  “When I read this, my plan occurred to me.”

  Though he still didn’t follow, he waited.

  “As far as I can tell, we have two choices. The books say dragons have two weak spots—their eyes and their unscaled belly. They can only die one of two ways—by being stabbed there or by poison. So option one is to figure out a way to kill Polacek.”

  When she didn’t continue, he pressed. “Or?”

  “Or we’ve got to make him think I’m dead.” Finishing triumphantly, Anabel beamed at him, her copper eyes expectant.

  At first, Tyler wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. “Dead? How on earth do you propose to do that?”

  “I was hoping you could help.”

  “Oh no.” Just thinking about it, he felt his gut churning. “I have no idea what you have in mind.”

  “Look at you.” Shoulders back, she circled around him, her movements gracefully and no doubt unintentionally sexy. “You were dead and magically became alive.”

  He stifled a groan. “There was no magic involved in that.”

  “Really?” Clearly, she didn’t believe him. “Then how’d you do it?”

  “I asked. I’m limited as to what I can tell you of the afterlife, but there are beings with much more power than you and I.”

  “Magic.” She flashed a triumphant smile. “If they can make you alive, then surely they can briefly make me dead.”

  This time, he let his frustrated groan escape. “Let’s just say, hypothetically of course, that they could do this. How would you being dead help us with
the Drakkor or in freeing my sister?”

  “He wants me for breeding. If I’m dead, I’m of no use to him.”

  He admired her creativity, even if what she wanted was impossible. “And if you’re dead, he has no reason to set Dena free.”

  “Timing,” she informed him with an arch look. “Timing is everything. I won’t have them make me pretend to die until after the exchange has already been made.”

  “You have no idea what you’re saying.”

  “Ah, but I do.” Eyes glowing with determination, she continued to pace, looking like a caged wolf.

  He didn’t tell her he’d never heard of such a thing, outside of ancient myths and legends, because if he did, he’d have to admit he’d never heard of a ghost being allowed to briefly return to a living body either. Actually, his very presence was proof that her idea might be possible.

  But that didn’t make it palatable. He knew if he tried to use emotion to convince her, she wouldn’t listen. Her decision appeared to have been made with emotion. Instead he tried to sway her with logic. “What if they agree? Then what? How do you know that such a thing is not irreversible?”

  She whirled and hugged him, a quick, brief, impulsive wrapping of her arms around him that made him feel as if he had been set ablaze.

  “Because of you,” she said. “You being here right now with me, alive and real, is all the proof I need.”

  It was then that he realized he’d made a horrible, awful mistake.

  “I can’t risk you,” he said, throwing logic to the wind, his voice cracking even though he willed himself to sound steady. “Surely we can figure out another way to save Dena without placing your life at serious risk.”

  Her beautiful face went serious. “Look, do you want to save your sister or not? Time is running out. Unless you’ve come up with another plan, we’ve got to set mine in motion or your sister will die.”

  She was right—at least about part of it. Though Polacek had given them forty-eight hours, he knew better than anyone that time was running out. They had no guarantee Dena would survive too much longer.