by Diana Seere
Had he gotten even bigger overnight?
His fingertips touched his cheekbones, topaz eyes narrowing and looking back at him, his wet hair spiky, darkened by water. Wide-set eyes framed by thick but not bushy eyebrows looked back, a little tired and very confused. A day’s stubble, even and reddish, dotted his face. His Dutch heritage, always a source of joking because he wasn’t tall like people from the Netherlands, showed in his face and body now, exaggerated by his strange growth. Smiling at himself, he looked like a predator.
No more Mr. Nice Guy.
Feeling weird, he couldn’t help but touch his own abs. Why not? He’d clearly touched himself elsewhere during that hot dream, Sophia riding him like an animal, their bodies using friction to make an erotic heat that poured through his blood even now, pure memory passing through to the present.
The shaft of his cock tingled at the thought. No. No, no, no. Where was this coming from? He’d always prided himself on restraint. Delayed gratification was his middle name. Zach Delayed Gratification Hayden had spent the first thirty-one years of his life getting ready for the rest. He’d finished his PhD three years ago, secured a great job at LupiNex, paid off all his student loans in twenty months of living a spartan lifestyle.
And by spartan, he also meant celibate.
He wanted one person. One soul mate. One person to give his heart to. Not a string of one-night stands and certainly not a billionaire heiress who was somehow tangled up in the whole shifter mess.
And yet oh, how he wanted her.
“Stop it,” he hissed to himself through gritted teeth, willing his erection to fade out. Getting dressed helped. Buttoning quickly, he added a pair of perfectly tailored khakis, brown Merrells, and a leather belt so well made it didn’t have a logo.
Zach was ready. Or as ready as he could be. Not bothering to shave, he decided that if he had to live with being part wolf, looking a little furry should be perfectly acceptable.
Besides, since The Incident, he had five-o’clock shadow by eleven in the morning.
Grabbing the main door again, he marched out, hearing parts of their conversation.
“—needs to be taught, Asher! How can Zach possibly understand what it means to be a shifter when he’s never known one?”
Sophia.
Pausing, he perked his ears. He flicked on the hall light switch and saw three different doors in the hallway. Which one was it?
“The fact that he’s so unaware of our ways, of how his body functions, of his powers—” Asher’s argumentative voice went quieter, fiercer.
Zach opened the door to the right of his room. Dark and empty.
“—give him time. Time with someone training him, helping him—”
The sound of Sophia’s plaintive voice made Zach grunt, the noise sudden and uncontrollable. If he had antenna, they would point straight at her. The next best thing on his body did, in fact, begin to point straight up, damn it.
“Train him?” Asher roared.
Door number two beckoned. Zach walked haltingly to the left, opened it, and—
Empty.
Door number three showed a barren room as well. Where the hell were they?
Zach ignored his elevated heart rate. Ears perked to catch every utterance Sophia Stanton made, he followed a long hallway encased by floor-to-ceiling windows, finding himself staring at a gorgeous lake shimmering in the moonlight with a two-story boathouse next to it. An enormous main house sprawled, many of its windows in several separate wings glowing in the night. Through the clusters of trees, he saw other lights from other homes flickering in the distance.
As he proceeded down the hallway, he slowed, marveling at the manicured grounds under tastefully subtle lighting, the elaborate, stately structures, a pool and pool house, and so much more. It just went on and on and on.
“We’re not in Boston any more, Toto,” he muttered to himself.
This wasn’t LupiNex. And calling this place a ranch was like calling Buckingham Palace a mansion. Technically correct, but come on.
Peeling himself away from the extraordinary view of the grounds, he dead-ended as the hallway disappeared behind him. A door to the outside was all he saw.
“Yes, train him. I was the only thing holding him back from shifting uncontrollably at the Plat. You tranquilized him before we could see his full shift, but Asher—we both saw what was happening. Zach was turning into his animal side but at the size of a human.”
Sam made a choked sound.
The words he was hearing made the mission of finding them so much harder, making his brain spin.
“Excuse me?”
The unexpected voice made him jump, landing on all fours, head tipped up, teeth bared.
A young woman, no more than twenty, gazed at him calmly. “I am so sorry for startling you, Mr. Hayden. My name is Ariana. May I be of service?”
She didn’t even blink at his strange pose. Zach stood quickly, blood slamming hard against his skin, each pore at attention, dilating as if preparing for fur. “Um, Asher’s office?”
She looked surprised. “Mr. Stanton’s office? You’re in the wrong building, sir.” She walked him back to the glass hallway and pointed to a building across a courtyard. “He is over there with Ms. Stanton and Dr. Baird.”
“They’re—over there?” The building she directed him to was at least a thousand yards away. How could he hear their conversation?
Impossible.
“And what about the uncontrolled shifting, Asher? If we don’t teach him how to manage himself, how to use his powers for good, Zach could become an even bigger problem for the shifter world than Tomas Nagy!” Sophia’s voice rang out as clear as a bell being struck by a mallet.
“Sir?” The young maid gave Zach a patient, sympathetic smile. “Would you like me to walk you there?”
Tomas Nagy. There was that name again. Why the hell was Zach being compared to him—and not so favorably?
“Sir?” The maid was becoming increasingly alarmed as he stared out the window, hypnotized by his own racing thoughts.
“Yes,” he choked out. “Yes, please bring me to Asher’s office. I’m really lost here at this place. It’s like one big labyrinth.”
She smiled, red hair brushing against one eyebrow, bright, young eyes meeting his.
“You’re right, sir. A person could come here and never, ever find their way out.”
Sophia glared at Asher’s back and then glanced at Sam, who gave her a grateful, although apologetic, smile.
He’d turned away from her and Sam to stare out the window at the lake. The room had fallen into an uncomfortable silence as they pondered the implications of a human who had not only become a shifter but an apparently oversized one, with unknown strength and dimensions.
Sophia was glad they’d stopped arguing for a few moments. Their emotions were running too high. If Asher had continued arguing with her, she would’ve been tempted to use the tranquilizer gun on him. Asher was always impossible, but with Zach he was being more impossible than usual.
She could sympathize. Zach brought out some of her worst traits as well.
Impulsive, pleasure-seeking, lonely…
Lonely?
Just as she was mentally stumbling over that odd revelation, the door burst open to reveal the subject of their discussion.
And boy, oh boy, did he look delicious.
“Where have you taken me?” As Zach strode inside, his voice and spirit filled the room, touching each wall and corner, ceiling and floor, man and woman. Everyone, even Asher, took a step backward, momentarily stunned by the force of his presence.
Sam was the first to speak. “You’re at the Stantons’ private estate in Montana,” she said, slowly walking over to him.
“How long have I been here?” he asked.
“We flew in last night. You’ve slept around the clock,” Sam said. “How are you feeling? Any lingering sedation? Mental or physical impairment?”
Sophia looked hard, very hard, for any si
gn of physical impairment and found none. Brilliant eyes, powerful physique, confident posture—all fine. No problems she could see.
Not even a tiny one.
But she kept looking, just in case.
“I’m fine,” he said. He shot a hard look at Asher before turning to Sophia. His posture softened slightly. “I owe you an apology, Ms. Stanton.”
As their eyes met and held, she felt a current of energy shoot through her body. “You weren’t yourself.” She tried to keep her voice flippant, casual, amused. “Every shifter goes through something like it. I recognized the signs.”
“Every shifter?” Zach glanced at Asher.
“At the conclusion of childhood,” Asher said coldly. “Before they are let loose upon the world.”
“So that’s why you brought me here,” Zach said. “To lock me up again.”
“Yes,” Asher said.
Sam and Sophia both cried “No!” in unison.
“It’s part of the healing process,” Sam said.
“You need a safe place to learn how to be a…” Sophia trailed off. What was he? More than a werewolf, more than a man. A mystery. An intriguing one. “Whatever you are now.”
“It’s the safety of others that is my concern,” Asher said. “One individual’s welfare is the priority only of those confused by guilt or sentiment.”
“So this is my new jail,” Zach said.
“More like a hospital,” Sam said.
“Or a school,” Sophia added.
Zach shook his head, sending the thick waves swinging around his face. “Don’t lie to me,” he said. “It’s a bigger, prettier prison than the one I had in Boston, but I’m hardly free to leave—am I, Asher?”
“After what you did to my sister, you should be grateful to be alive,” Asher said. He spoke softly, but the obvious threat of violence made Sophia step between the two men. She addressed Zach in the low, soothing tones she used with patients.
“Do you want to leave?”
Zach had been locked in a hate glare with Asher, but now he turned to her.
The world fell away. Sam and Asher might as well have fallen off the spinning Earth and were now wayward satellites halfway to the moon. All Sophia could see was Zach’s face, him, the rough stubble on his jaw, the hurt and fury in his eyes, the sensual curve of his lips.
And she could hear his heartbeat. As a shifter, her senses were powerfully attuned anyway, but this was like exploring a person’s flesh and blood, penetrating his tendons and bone like a possessing spirit and drinking in the essence of him.
And still craving more. Drowning in him, but thirsty for another sip.
Him.
Sophia, he said silently. Having already curled her spirit inside him, she heard him perfectly.
His desire was a revelation. She sensed a raw, white-hot lust that was too strong and urgent to deny. A few moments ago, when he’d entered the room, he’d been in control. But now—
He didn’t look on the outside as if he were about to shift, but she could feel the animal unleashing inside him.
Heat flared low in her belly, matching his lust with a little of her own. Or maybe a lot. My God, how tasty it would be to unfasten those uptight clothes Asher had given him and lick her way from hard jaw to abdomen to cock—
He closed his eyes, and she could feel him fight for self-control. She could feel the moment he was able to rein himself back enough to turn and step away.
“Dr. Sam,” he said roughly. He reached out, moving closer to the doctor, his steps shortening with the beginning changes in his feet from man to wolf. His shoulders tore at the seams of his shirt. “Sam.”
Sophia heard the desperation in Zach’s voice as he begged Sam—a brilliant scientist, his former boss, and a friend—to help him in his distress. To help him control the animal he felt roaring its way out of him.
Just as Sam was reaching out to touch him, Asher shoved Zach to one side and pinned him to the wall so roughly he knocked a painting to the floor. As the glass shattered, Sam cried out.
“No, Asher!”
“He was shifting!” Asher shouted.
“Only a little!” Sam cried. “He didn’t want to.”
Asher pushed his forearm against Zach’s throat. “He was going to touch you.”
“He needed help,” Sam pleaded. “He wasn’t going to hurt me.”
“You don’t realize how dangerous he is,” Asher said, pressing harder at Zach’s throat. “I know what I saw. He was shifting. And I know why.”
Zach’s face was turning from dark red to purple. What was worse, he wasn’t putting up a struggle. As he gasped for breath, he closed his eyes and went limp, as if accepting Asher’s judgment and his fate.
Sophia strode over and kicked Asher’s feet out from under him, dropping him to the floor in a shocked, snarling heap. In a fair fight, she never could’ve taken her eldest brother down, but she wasn’t interested in playing fair right then. She even had to fight the urge to kick him as he staggered to his hands and knees. When he’d been choking Zach, she’d felt it. She’d felt it.
“From now on, Zach is my responsibility,” she declared.
“What the devil did you just do to me?” Asher asked, too surprised to be angry. Yet.
“He needs training,” Sophia said. “I will provide that training.”
Asher pushed up to his feet, shaking his head. “You— But you’re—”
“I’m a nurse, I’m a shifter, and I’m strong,” Sophia said. “This is a Stanton problem, and I’m a Stanton. You have Tomas to deal with, Gavin has Lilah, Edward is too young and inexperienced, and Derry— Well, let’s be honest, he’s no good at controlling his own sexual impulses, let alone someone else’s.”
“Even after what this mongrel did to you?” Asher demanded.
Especially after what he did to me, she thought wildly.
“Come with me,” Sophia said quickly to Zach, grabbing his arm. “Now.”
Zach pushed away from the wall. “But—”
“Now.” Sophia pulled him with her out of the room. Since Asher had thought Zach was about to assault Sam and didn’t think Sophia could control him, he probably wouldn’t leave the researcher alone in the room. She had time to get Zach to her own cabin on the estate or some other quiet, private place.
Where their lessons could begin in earnest.
Chapter 4
Why hadn’t he fought back? Zach wondered as he lengthened his stride to match Sophia’s pace. Desire pumped through his blood like a fire hose had been screwed into his veins, the question drowned out by the rush in his ears, but still… why didn’t he fight?
Because he hadn’t known how.
Asher Stanton’s strength wasn’t the issue. It was more cellular, even granular, a lack of coordination between the parts of Zach’s brain that told him this was absurd and the parts devoted to self-preservation. Civilized people didn’t choke one another. Polite society didn’t involve sisters kicking their brothers to the ground. The violence had shocked him, taken him by surprise, muscles going tense then limp because the electrical impulses handing out orders for coordinated effort all misfired.
It would never happen again.
Zach would see to it.
Sophia had a long stride, but his was faster. They moved through the dark forest, the softly lit path taking them up a large slope, then down a hill to a clearing. He paused, his ribs expanding and contracting, his skin flushed with the simple exertion, wanting more movement. More action. The brush of his leg hair against his slacks, the textured tactile touch of shirt seams against taut tendons, the way his fingers flexed and clenched as he stood there, breathing—it was all too much.
And never enough.
Sophia turned to him, and he moved toward her, grabbing her before she could utter a word, crushing his mouth against hers with a blinding, breathless kiss that left him panting. Every part of her was soft and hard, yielding and immutable, sweet and sharp, a study in contrasts as his hands took her in,
his hips ground into hers, one knee parting her legs as she tipped her head up to him, their breath syncing with the drumbeat that drowned out all sound.
“Zach,” she moaned against his mouth, her face glowing in the moonlight, a thin sheen of sweat making her hair curl around her head. Thick eyebrows framed her enormous eyes, her lips full, nose long and elegant, with broad cheekbones that made her face round and earthy. He held her in his arms, his palms flat against her shoulders, sliding down to her waist, the solid heat of her body making him feel grounded at the same time he wanted to fly.
The longer he touched her, the more he wanted her, the strange bloodbeat inside him picking up steam, literally. He felt as if he were boiling from the inside out, overflowing into her bloodstream, the need to relieve the pressure inside him so great, and the only remedy was one that seemed so crass.
To be in her. To fuck her.
To fill her.
Less about love and more about lust, the feeling was so extraordinarily unfamiliar to Zach, an atavistic, predatory emotion that made him recoil inside at the same time he found himself empowered, excited—
Enthralled.
Sex, for Zach, was a joining that came from cherished intimacy. He wasn’t the one-night stand type, the main reason he’d rejected Sophia Stanton that night last year at the Plat. While he was still a guy with needs, those needs were put in proper place in an intellectual and moral context in his neat, orderly life.
For the past twenty-four hours, all he’d become was one big, pulsing need.
A walking cock.
And boy, did it feel good.
Rough fingertips slid under his shirt as Sophia pulled away and frowned. “You’re shifting.”
“I am?” Even he heard the change in his voice, though. He shut her up with another kiss, his pants practically splitting as her warm, wet mouth met his, hormones spiraling and spinning as his body thickened.
“You need—”
“I know what I need.” He picked her up like she was air, the sky, an armful of feathers, and set her down under a tree, her skirt riding up around her waist as if it obeyed his thoughts. She pulled him to her, greedy lips and teeth biting him as if she needed to taste his flesh, tongue flicking against his mouth as he freed himself from his pants, sliding into her in a single go, the shock of her heat making him groan.