Alex’s explanation had answered her questions but raised new—and devastating—problems. It would be easy enough to hand off the amulet to another person—if the pack could find someone willing to take on the responsibility. It would be another thing entirely to find someone who shared her DNA. Following her grandfather’s death, Gwen had become the last of the Chaney line.
As soon as Gwen walked toward the front door, her golden retriever, Jezebel, struggled to her feet with a groan and waddled across the room, tail wagging. Alex’s black Lab, Bob, was right behind her.
Gwen dropped the amulet back into the drawer and slid it shut. “Feel like a walk, you two furry idiots? I think we could all use some fresh air.”
Jezebel’s long, fringed tail—and Bob’s sleek one—thumped against Gwen’s knees. She reached down and scratched both dogs’ heads. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
The three stepped off the front porch and headed toward the trailhead between the tall pines at the edge of the side yard. Bob ran ahead, pausing occasionally to sniff and pee. She lost sight of him a couple of times and wished she had Alex’s powers. The star of the hit TV show The Dog Talker had a secret to his success. He could solve canine behavior problems not because of his background in veterinary medicine and animal behavior, but because he could literally talk to the animals. He could hear their thoughts and they could comprehend his.
Alex had explained that it wasn’t so much a conversation as an understanding. Dogs, he’d told her, thought in emotions and their primary motivations were food, sex and safety. Alex was able to “fix” them by deciphering what it was that was upsetting that balance. It was all a mystery to Gwen. As far as she could tell, Bob’s only current motivation was identifying the ideal spot to urinate.
Jezebel stayed close to her mistress. It had been a year since the cougar attack that had nearly killed Jez and she still seemed skittish when they ventured into the forest. The encounter had shaken Gwen too. Since then, she never ventured out after dark and always stayed on the trail. Knowing that she lived smack dab in the middle of a werewolf enclave also gave her pause.
Though Alex had assured her that her supernatural neighbors were bound by pack law to protect—not harm—Gwen, it wasn’t the law-abiders she was worried about.
She’d seen them at their worst—during the first nights of their change. Without exception they’d thrown themselves against the cell bars and snapped and snarled at her, spewing out animalistic threats about how they’d rip out her throat at the first possible opportunity. They didn’t seem at all like model citizens concerned with upholding the mores of polite society.
Gwen pulled the crisp autumn air into her lungs and concentrated on the crunch of the colorful fall leaves under her boots. She’d hiked this trail a hundred times as a child. Grandpa Chaney had walked by her side, teaching her how to tell the difference between a red oak and a white.
“The red oak leaf is pointed—like an arrow,” he’d said. “If you pricked your finger with an arrow, you’d bleed red. The white oak is smooth and round like a river rock. If you put your hand in the cold stream to pluck out a rock, your fingertips would turn white. That’s how you remember which is which.”
He’d taught her the difference between the whistle of a cardinal and the chirp of a robin. Before she could recite the alphabet she’d known how to identify poison ivy. A cozy blanket of nostalgia wrapped around Gwen and she wondered how she’d let herself drift so far from the love of nature that John Chaney had instilled in her.
He’d been preparing me even then, she realized. Though he couldn’t reveal to her what strange things her future held, he’d been quietly laying the groundwork.
Rounding a switchback in the path, Gwen spied Old Mossy—the enormous glacial boulder that marked the halfway point of the trail. The soft green carpet that covered its surface looked the same as it had when she was a kid, but she knew it was very different.
She remembered the day John had pulled a magnifying glass from his pocket and passed it to her. “Look closely now, Gwenny. See how the moss isn’t just one big plant but lots of little ones? Every one of them has tiny roots that work their way into the rock and break it up. Can you imagine such a thing? Those soft little plants can turn a great big boulder—millions of years old—into dust.”
It wasn’t until that moment that Gwen understood the lesson. It wasn’t about the erosion of some rock in the forest—it spoke to the thousands of things that could slowly destroy a relationship. She was letting this thing with Alex eat away at her. A year ago she hadn’t even known werewolves existed and now she was willing to risk what she and Alex had because she was intent on becoming one.
What they had was an attraction like nothing she’d ever experienced before. She was drawn to Alex’s sexual energy and it was clear that he hungered for her. Though Alex met all of her physical needs, the two were separated by their realities. Gwen wondered if they would have found each other in the real world. She doubted it.
Stepping over a rotting log on the path, Gwen thought about how the march of time would separate them even further. If she remained human, Alex would live for many lifetimes long after she was gone.
Pack laws regarding her bloodline protected her from the bite that would bring about the change. Only the potion that had changed Alex could make her like him. In that little packet of magical tea, he held her future.
Gwen longed to learn what it would be like if they were equals. More than that, she needed to discover her own potential.
It’ll happen when it happens, she decided.
The winding trail sloped downhill and Gwen knew that a wide, circular clearing was just around the bend. They’d stop there for a few minutes—as they always did—and give Jezebel a chance to catch her breath. Even in the cool air, the dog was already panting and foaming at the mouth.
The golden retriever picked up the pace—surging ahead on the trail—no doubt looking forward to a cool drink and some tummy rubs before they continued. When Gwen caught up with the dogs, both had stopped at the edge of the clearing. The fur along their spines was on end, their heads were lowered and their ears were flattened against their broad heads. But it was the low, rumbling growl from the dogs’ chests that caused Gwen’s blood to run cold.
Chapter Two
Alex McKenzie ran a broad hand through his wavy auburn hair, took a deep breath then summoned up his best charming-television-star smile. “Miss…Brittany is it? I absolutely have to be in Minneapolis this afternoon.”
The ticketing agent glanced up from the computer screen with an airline-issued grin, met his stare, then froze. Her mouth hung open, but it seemed that her scripted response just couldn’t escape.
Gotcha, Alex thought.
Her coffee-colored skin darkened slightly as the flush crept up her throat and across her pretty face. He could smell the flood of juices from between her legs and, just below that scent, beeswax. Somebody just got a Brazilian. The thought of running his long tongue over that smooth cunt caused Alex’s cock to jerk.
The moon would be three-quarters tonight and his constantly raging libido had ratcheted up a notch. It was Alex’s policy to spend this dangerous time safely back in Talbot, but there were exceptions to every rule. God, she smells amazing. During this point in the lunar cycle, his brain seemed to relocate between his legs.
A year ago he might have risked it. But a year ago he hadn’t met Gwen Chaney. She was not only the pack’s legacy consort, he’d claimed her as his mate. Alex was almost certain that she was one, but at moments like this, the wolf inside him tested his resolve.
In an instant, Alex conjured up Gwen’s image. He let the memory of her sweet, tight pussy, her soft, plump thighs and breasts wash over him. The sexual connection the two shared was unbearably strong, but it was everything else— it was she—who kept him faithful. She had an almost mystical quality that captivated the human part of him and stirred the animal that lurked within.
Gwen.
; Alex leaned across the laminate counter and concentrated on pushing the pheromones from his pores. Brittany inhaled, closed her eyes for a moment, then breathed out an audible sigh. Coconut and curry.
“Do you like Thai food?” he asked, as if the thought had just occurred to him.
Brittany’s black-brown eyes widened. “It’s my absolute favorite! I actually had leftovers for breakfast.”
He glanced briefly at the ceiling, then locked the woman’s gaze—knowing that he looked for all the world as if he’d stumbled upon a monumental idea. “Mine too! Listen, I get back to L.A. every month or so. I know a great little place on the strip with the most mind-blowing coconut-curry chicken. I don’t suppose…”
“I’d love to, Mister—I mean Doctor McKenzie. I’m a big fan of the show, by the way.”
Alex winked. “Please, call me Alex.”
A fresh gush of pussy juices perfumed the air. Alex passed his itinerary over the counter. “Maybe you could jot down your number?”
He could hear the stutter in her breath as she scribbled on the printout. “Now, Brittany, about that flight?”
Brittany tore her gaze from his, and tapped on her keyboard. “I’m so sorry, Doctor…Alex. This is the only nonstop to MSP until this evening and we’ve got an equipment issue.”
Alex cocked his head and frowned. “Isn’t there anything you can do? I really have to get to Minneapolis before noon Central Time.”
The agent glanced back at her screen, typed for a moment and then bit her lip. “There was one flight into O’Hare, with a connector to Minneapolis, but I’m afraid they’ve already boarded. They’re set to take off in seven minutes and that gate is clear on the other side…”
Reaching across the counter, Alex brushed one finger over her wrist. He felt the fine hairs on her arm rise in response and heard her quickening heartbeat thunder above the din of LAX.
C’mon. Look at me.
She glanced up and the flush that had darkened her cheeks drained away. Without breaking his stare, she groped for the phone beside her computer. “Let me make a call,” she whispered. The quivering in her voice gave Alex a sick satisfaction.
* * * * *
Being supernatural had its advantages and its limitations. There was a fine balance between capitalizing on his powers and maintaining his secrets. Four years after his change, Alex was still figuring out the nuances.
He’d made the flight from Los Angeles to Chicago O’Hare by the skin of his teeth. At a full-out run, he could have arrived at the gate in seconds, but he couldn’t very well go streaking through the concourse at werewolf speed, freaking out all the tourists and businessmen.
The gate agent had given him the stink eye, but Alex had smoothed things over. The man was throwing off testosterone like nobody’s business—advertising that he was as hetero as they come. He was probably a little confused when Alex turned on the wolf charm. Alex could smell the excitement on him. Poor guy probably went home questioning everything.
Some of the passengers had needed cajoling as well. It was no mystery who’d held up the flight. He supposed half of those on board recognized him from TV and the other half just thought he was some random asshole delaying their trip home.
The jetway had to be rolled back into place and Alex walked onboard as the flight attendant was giving her spiel about oxygen masks, buoyant seat cushions and emergency exits.
He’d mustered up his best apologetic shrug and made direct eye contact with the people who seemed especially pissed off. As soon as the plane reached altitude and the captain had turned off the “fasten seat belts” light, they started lining up in the aisle for autographs.
Alex was grateful when they hit turbulence over the Rockies and everyone had to return to their seats and buckle up. He took the opportunity to plug in his MP3 player, close his eyes and tune out.
Even if he weren’t trying to avoid overzealous fans, Alex would have grabbed the nap. The next few days would take their toll on him physically. He was at peak strength and stamina during moon week, but the energy he expended tested the limits of the human part of him.
Stretching out his long legs as far as the first-class seat would allow, Alex quickly fell into a fitful sleep.
* * * * *
Gwen.
He could smell her. Saliva flooded his mouth and his cock stiffened. She was waiting for him, wet and hot and ready. Alex paced on the front porch of her cabin. He reached for the door knob but couldn’t turn it. His hand had transformed into wolf’s paw—not the dexterous modified fingers of his shifted form. Throwing back his head, he howled in frustration. From behind the door, he could hear Gwen whine in reply.
“You’re going to have to break it down.”
Alex jerked his head toward the voice and saw his production assistant, Charlene, standing beside him studying her clipboard. “Yep, it’s right here in my notes. Wolves can’t turn doorknobs.”
What was she doing here? She was supposed to be back in L.A. and he couldn’t let her see him like this.
“You have to go,” he snarled.
“I’m not afraid of the big bad wolf,” Charlene said, then spun on her heel and walked away.
Alex stared at the four ragged and bloody lines slashed down her back. “Did I do that to you?”
Before she could answer, Charlene dissolved away, leaving Alex alone on the porch. He lowered his shoulder and rammed the door. The wood splintered and broken glass tinkled to the floor.
Gwen was sprawled out on the couch, naked. He swept his gaze over her smooth skin and his pulse quickened. Opening her legs, she reached down and spread the juicy lips. Alex stared, unable to move, as her fingers grew and curled inward with long claws erupting from the tips.
Confused, he looked up at her face and watched her jaw morph and stretch. Only her hands and mouth shifted. There was no fur, no pointed ears, no paw-like feet. The sight of a long snout on her pretty human face was at once jarring and incredibly erotic.
She smiled at him and ran her long tongue over sharp canines. “What’s the matter, Alex? Don’t you like what you see? Don’t you want to fuck me?”
He did want to fuck her. It didn’t matter if she were a human, a monster or something in between.
Mine.
The sweet musk from between her thighs was driving him insane and the need to be inside her consumed him.
One instant he was standing on the splintered remains of the front door and the next he was on top of her, pushing into her dripping pussy. Every one of his senses was razor sharp. He could feel her tight inner walls clamping down around him and the softness of her big breasts crushed beneath his chest.
Her breath was hot against his neck and her moans spurred him on. Sex with Gwen had always been amazing—the best in his life, but this was like nothing he’d ever experienced before and he didn’t want it to end. He would have to slow down or he was going to come.
Gwen quivered beneath him and panted. He could feel her orgasm building, but he was determined it would be one of many. By the time he was done with her, she would never want to be with another.
Mine.
Spasms rippled through her hot cunt and Alex fought to hold on. She scraped her claws down his back and sank her fangs into his shoulder. The sting brought Alex to the brink and he jerked back his hips, trying to pull out of her before he came. An overwhelming force stopped him, as if he was bound to her by some invisible tie.
“Once copulation between two werewolves has commenced, the male can only withdraw after ejaculation. Says so right here in my notes.”
Straightening his arms and rising up off Gwen’s chest, Alex jerked his head toward the voice. Charlene was sitting in the recliner across the room. She held her clipboard in one hand and was masturbating with the other. She draped one leg over the upholstered arm and Alex had a clear view of her manicured fingers plunging in and out of her shaved pussy.
The busty blonde looked up from her notes and winked. “Remember when we used to fuck alm
ost every day, boss? I wish you’d told me back then that you were a werewolf and you just needed a hot place to stick it until you got control of yourself. It wouldn’t have stopped me you know. I loved that big dick of yours and the way you screwed like an animal. Ha! Because you are an animal!”
Charlene snorted at her own joke, then tossed the clipboard aside and stood. In the blink of an eye, she was standing beside him with her miniskirt hiked up around her waist and one foot up on the couch by Gwen’s head. Charlene tilted her pelvis into Alex’s face. “C’mon, boss, how about a little lick with that long, wolfy tongue of yours?”
Alex snapped his attention to Gwen. She looked up at him and nodded. “Do it, Alex,” she whispered. “Lick that slut and fuck me until you come.”
“Do it, boss,” Charlene urged.
Soon the two women were chanting, “Do it! Do it! Do it!”
Everything around him took on a blood-red hue, then the room seemed to tilt and spin like a nauseating carnival ride. Alex squeezed his eyes shut. The sound of Gwen and Charlene’s incantation and the thundering of their three heartbeats was earsplitting.
Even through the noise and confusion, Alex continued to thrust into Gwen. He snaked his tongue through his teeth and the instant he tasted Charlene’s pussy, it was as if a firework went off inside his skull. The world turned blazing white and silent.
Then he was in forest—and he was ravenous.
Faster. Faster. Faster. The trees blurred as Alex raced through the woods. Leaves and pine needles swirled behind him, as his claws dug into the forest carpet. His black lips curled back and he could taste the doe’s scent.
Kill.
He rounded a huge moss-covered boulder and the trail opened onto a circular clearing. His prey was standing at the center, frozen with fear. Alex lunged and tackled the deer, sinking his fangs into her throat as they tumbled to the ground. She bleated out her distress call until Alex clamped down and crushed her windpipe. The animal was silent but still struggled, kicking out at him with her sharp hooves.
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