Until I Make You MINE (Wolves of Amrok Hollow)

by Jeanette Lynn

  “I feel like I’ve missed things, with my typical social avoidance,” I pondered, thoughtful. “Kodak moments like this gem.”

  Fynn tapped his finger along his chin. “Yeah.” His hand dropped. “I could’ve done without,” his hand lifted to wave as Rowdy and Byron’s shouts grew, “all of that.” Shuddering, he muttered under his breath, “I think one of Byron’s balls popped loose of his budgy smugglers. I swear I saw a hairy meatball just dangling out there as he jumped around. When he went wild with the oil, I think he got every nook and cranny.”

  My smile was more of a teasing smirk. I had to lift my hand to cover my mouth as I mused, purely in jest, “I dunno... I could do with-.”

  “Don’t finish that sentence. You need more anything in your life like I need another hole in my head. If Rowdy makes good on his joke about fucking with Ansel, there may be one less loud mouthed male in the pack to contend with.”

  “I like meatballs...” Glancing at Fynn, expression sober, I cleared my throat as a laugh tickled up it, trapping it. Clearing my throat louder, rougher, to hold it back, because the look on his face was priceless, I added, “Ten second rule, right?”

  “You’re sick, Em.” Fynn made a gagging sound. “You’re a sick, sick woman.”

  “Too bad there’s no cure. There’s no fever—not even a prescription for cowbell can fix it. I yam,” my arms spread wide, “who I yam.”

  “I’ll never be able to eat Italian food again,” he mumble-muttered, grimacing, but then we both gave up the ghost and laughed.

  A sea of inner tubes, from the basic variety to comical novelty ones like Rowdy’s, filled the water. “I think Momma went overboard with the tubes she bought,” I mused, eyeing the two enormous ones sat next to the red and black plaid ones the Gurgen’s had brought in.

  “Better than lookin’ like a flannel donut.” Fynn clucked his tongue, still fiddling with his swim bottoms. “I think Dad grabbed the wrong ones. I thought I saw those advertised at Kelly’s earlier this year for snow tubing.”

  “You should really stop doing that,” I muttered through the side of my mouth. “Looks like you’re playing with your junk.”

  Fynn’s hands left his short’s waistband, snapping as they smacked flush against his skin. “Oomph. Argh. Shoulda thought that through a little better.” Fynn’s hands went to his lower abdomen and he grunted.

  “What about her?” I said between fake coughs, motioning to a wolf off to the side of us and down the water’s edge a ways. Lonnie was a known dominant shewolf. Pack fourth, she held her own and then some. And above all else, she was nice.

  As if mentioning her had summoned her attention, her head slowly lifted, dark purple braids, pulled back into a high bun, oversized glasses on her pixie face glinting in that gloriously overly bright sunlight. Much as I had, she’d gone with a simple yet elegant, understated suit, a purple one piece that almost matched her hair. Fuller figured like me, if shorter, she was thicker in the lower half than her upper, giving her a generous pear shape. Lonnie had that bosslady sway to her hip swish—she was confident, cool, in charge, completely at ease with herself—she owned that shit. I couldn’t make out her eyes with her overlarge sunglasses on, but her head tilted this way as her gaze shifted from Fynn to me. “Hey,” I called, to Fynn’s sudden mortification, my hand shooting up in a short wave. “Hey, Lon!”

  “Emmy,” Lonnie greeted, though her voice was low and soft, subdued. She seemed unsure of her welcome as her head kept tilting in Fynn’s direction. She made no move to come closer. Lonnie, unsure? That was a definite first.

  “What are you doing?” Fynn hissed. “You’re worse than your mother, did you know that?”

  “What? I can’t say hi? I like Lonnie.”

  “Shhhh.”

  “What? Seriously, I don’t-”

  Turning us away from Lonnie as someone approached her, a shewolf she must be familiar with from a neighboring pack as they started to chat, the other wolf catching her undivided attention, Fynn’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “Remember when I told you I had a kind of thing with someone but they, ah, sort of fizzed out on me, ‘forgot’ to call me back?”

  “Yeah...” I said slowly.

  “Yeah,” Fynn grunted out, with feeling, then, lower, “and she has excellent fucking hearing.”

  My mouth dropped open in a silent O. Ohhhh. Sorry, I mouthed, then promptly snapped my trap shut.

  “Let’s go check on how the tubes are coming along!” Fynn announced loudly, gripping my arm to turn us toward the picnic tables the parents were fiddling with them at.

  “Yeah, Fynn,” I called out louder, “let’s go check on your tubes!”

  Lonnie’s gaze shot to us at that. Just to be an ass, I grinned and waved at her, leaning around Fynn. Fynn’s eyes flashed and he grabbed my hand, slapping it down to my side. “What are you doing?” he whispered fiercely, unaware of Lonnie watching him, studying his reaction closely.

  “Just being friendly, is all,” I replied sweetly. My brow shot up and I made a show of looking around. “That okay with you, Sparky?”

  Fynn grunted but kept his hand in mine, pressed firmly to my side. Our parents spotted us looking like that, his hand over mine, and Judith’s eyes widened while Mom’s narrowed.

  “Oh, for the love of-” I muttered, scowling when I realized what they were thinking. Jerking my hand from Fynn’s, I rolled my eyes. “He was trying to stop me from calling the shewolf who jilted him over.” Okay, so I was throwing the poor wolf under the bus, but the way Judith’s eyes lit with interest and her lips pulled up into a curious smile at the sudden mention of her baby being jilted by another meant we were off the hook for suspected hanky pankery. But you know what... “Perhaps y’all have forgotten, but we’re grown assed adults. And I can sleep with, snuggle up to, hold hands with, share a slab of ribs with, swap spit with, throw a book at, whomever I choose.”

  “Emersyn!” Momma gasped out as Dad scowled and shoved an enormous inner tube at me. Decked out in a pretty but more understated version of my suit in an eye catching burgundy, a one piece with thick straps to support her top heavy upper half, her hand went to her ample bosom and she shook her head. Lips pursed, hazel eyes narrowing as they fixed on me, the shade of her sun hat doing nothing to hide the glint of her wolf starting to peek through, Momma was building up to a reaction.

  “Here. Scram,” Dad said quickly, his voice gruff but sharp. “Before your momma comes to her senses and gets you.” Tugging at the collar of the almost too small sun shirt threatening to strangle him where he stood, he jerked his chin toward the water.

  “Yes, sir,” I said with a jaunty salute, taking the tube to drag it along behind me, ignoring Fred and Judith’s worried, wide-eyed looks, and headed straight for the river.

  Fynn, busy staring off at something over his shoulder, notably in Lonnie’s direction, as I tromped past, jolted, realizing I was basically ditching his ass. “Oy! Wait up, woman!” he called after me. The oomph and scuttle of his water shoe covered feet let me know he wasn’t far behind.

  “He wearin’ a swimsuit or rubber underpants, Fred?” Dad mused aloud, quite loudly, to Fynn’s father’s even louder guffaws.

  “Looks like Peter Pan in that getup,” Fred agreed, “he does.”

  “Oh, you,” Judith, with Mom joining in, began to hush their mates.

  My feet touched the water and I shuddered. I waded in until I was waist deep, Fynn just off to my left. It was still cool enough the water made me shiver. The urge to back out hit me, and along with it the way this echoed my life until of late. Water’s not just right, I’m ready to jump out and retreat. What the fuck kind of shit was that? For an Alpha, I sure had a whole lot of I don’t think the fuck so in me. I majored in strength of stubbornness more than character.

  “Huge turnout,” Fynn commented, cutting in on my thoughts.

  Three packs had come together for the Great Float, as some dumbass’d sadly titled it and the lame name stuck. Sounded like a poop
euphemism. Honestly, I was looking forward to the big projector I’d spotted them putting up earlier last week, for the big water monster movie event, the grand finale. Every year it played out over the small, manmade lake the river ran through, and everyone could chill there, swaying with the water, watching whatever flick had been voted in. I’d missed the Jaws double feature, I and II last year because I’d taken on a part time night shift job at the manure plant, but usually Fynn and I tromped to the hill just down the way, making a picnic of it, to catch the show. This would be my first year participating in this float-n-watch. I kinda couldn’t wait.

  What kind of life did I want to lead, live, I asked myself suddenly, still bothered by more than a few things plaguing me of late. My chin dipped, eyes catching on the water lapping at my thighs. Dip your toes in or go for broke? Oh, how this mirrored my current existential crisis.

  Going for broke, I tossed my tube into the river and jumped right in.

  “Woah!” Fynn stood there on the rocky shore grinning. “Now that’s more like it, Warhola,” he called, and came charging in after me.

  ∞∞∞

  This floating down the river business was pretty cool, a lazy river drifter’s dream. Sun hat lowered over my face, settled back against my oversized inner tube built for two, wishing there was a way to rig an umbrella to this boat of a float, I floated along, just lazily allowing the current to pull me wherever. I’d lost Fynn over an hour ago, about the time Byron and Rowdy had picked him out of the crowd as their next target. Squirt guns blazing, aimed at Fynn, the poor sod hadn’t even stood a chance against the tag team. If I cocked my head and listened, I could just make out him barking at them to eat shit, just off ahead of me.

  Spinning in a lazy circle, I hummed a little, glad to be one of many in this giant bowl of river Cheerios. The sounds of the river had me mellow, lulling me into some sense of relaxation for the first time in I had no clue how long. No matter how hard I tried, though, my thoughts kept circling back to Ansel. I should probably go try and sneak in and see him. Would they let me? The thought hit me hard, guilt swiftly following. Here I was having a grand old time, waiting for the sun to set so they’ll start the first half of The Beast, and he’s stuck in some pack timeout, indefinitely, because of my big assed mouth. My gut tightened. Stiffening, to the point it hurt my neck trying to lay like this, spread out across the inner tube, it was then I noticed the sounds of the river water burbling along the riverbank weren’t nearly as loud as they’d been minutes ago.

  A tug below my inner tube had me scrambling to sit up, yanking my hat back down to peer into the water. “What the...” My ass had taken a detour, a dark shape below the water’s surface dragging me off into a small, pool like area, an offshoot, tall reeds masking its presence. What the actual fuck?! Struggling to sit up, spluttering, my eyes were filling with my wolf when the side of the tube smacked into the muddy bank, making me jump, and the dark figure shot up and a head broke the surface.

  Turquoise eyes flashed as my legs fell into the water and I leaned over my water donut to gape at him. “Ansel?” I barked. God, he looked worse for wear, scratches marring one side of his face, scrapes and deep looking cuts, bruises easily visible from what little of his face I could make out.

  Only the upper half of his head was visible, the deep growl in his chest gurgling in the water softly. His head whipped in the direction of the Cheerio floaters crowd as someone squealed loudly and he put a finger to his lips.

  “Ansel,” I whispered, my voice hushed, barely audible, “I thought you were in the hole? They let you out?” That traitorous organ in my chest trilled, thrilled at the idea.

  Drifting closer, wolf glowing eyes shiny, his head gave a small shake. Jaw dropping, I leaned closer to him, until I worried I might tip the tube I was leaning heavily onto right over. “You escaped?” I hissed. “Asshole, are you nuts?”

  Turquoise eyes glanced to me sharply, narrowing on me, taking me in in all of my sun-warmed, bathing suit sporting, sunblock slathered glory. Lifting up enough his mouth was above water, his deep voice rumbled, “I had to see you.”

  “You snuck out just to see me?” Be still, this beastly heart. What came out of my mouth, despite the way I melted towards him, instead, was, “You didn’t lose your marbles, man, they’ve melted. Eldritch is gonna kill you when he finds you. Ansel Ames Gurgen, what the hell were you thinking?!”

  “Told you, Roly,” his large shoulders emerged with the rest of his upper half, water cascading down his wide chest, his torso covered in a thick coating of dark fur, “had to see you.”

  “You get your furry, tight little ass back in that hole, until they let you out, or so help me, I will murder you myself!”

  Ansel’s lips quirked, just there at the corners. One might say he still looked imposing, glaring at me like that, fur dusting his cheeks, his teeth unusually long, nose oddly shaped and growing pointy, but not me. “Ever notice you’re always threatening to maim and or put me out of my misery?”

  No. But I was just now noticing how much he liked it. “Freak,” I muttered hotly, glancing away.

  “Maybe.” Some of the fur on his cheeks was receding, his lips pulling into a soft, wide grin. The turquoise filling his eyes lightened, swirling as his brown filled in the gaps. “A freak for you,” he added, a deep growl rumbling his chest when I stiffened in embarrassment. He was so close now I could feel the heat of him. His hand lifted from the water and he leaned in close, hefting his large frame partially out of the water so he could bring us almost nose to nose. His hand slid along the inner tube, fingertips brushing mine. “I had to see you,” he whispered, a wealth of meaning to those five little words.

  My hand reached out automatically as if to touch him, brush my hand over the dark bruise across the upper part of his cheek, near his eye, but I hesitated at the last moment. With a grunt and a disturbingly deep growl I could feel in the water, he closed his eyes and pressed his face into my palm, nuzzling it.

  “I should be really freaked out right now,” I blurted, my fingers brushing the short stubble for hair along the side of his head, it was cropped so close to his scalp. His fur had all but receded.

  “But you’re not,” he murmured, opening his eyes, back to glowing turquoise, rimmed with flashes of gold.

  “I’m not.” I saw no point in lying. The dude could practically read my mind, it felt like, anyway.

  “You know what I’m gonna ask, Roly,” he murmured, bumping the float with his chest.

  “And you know I’m probably gonna tell you to fuck off with that noise, Asshole.”

  His smile was all knowing as he tilted his head and leaned in. His lips brushed mine in the lightest of feathery soft touches. It wasn’t enough. “But then you’re gonna kiss me anyway.”

  Emboldened, trying not to lunge at him as the urge hit me, this sudden overwhelming need to attack the man and suck his tongue clean from his head as my body prickled, I licked my lips, inadvertently licking his in the process. “Ansel,” I murmured, my parted lips brushing his as I spoke.

  He broke first.

  With a growl, he nipped at my lips, taking them in a swift but bruising kiss. A short moan left my throat as his tongue found mine. His growl vibrated my entire body. I felt that shit in my soul. I started at the noise yet did it again. My legs brushed his as they kicked to keep afloat. His legs were thick with hair, tickling my hairless ones. My hands went to his shoulders, anchoring him to me, while one of his hands slid to the back of my neck, cupping it possessively, as he seemed to be so fond of doing, the other brushing my collarbone. His lips tipped up when I shivered.

  “Hey, Em, where are you at?” Fynn’s voice crashed over us.

  Stiffening, Ansel pulled away with a snarl he didn’t try to hide. The sound was loud, too loud. Fear shot through me. “Ansel!” I screech-whispered. They might hear him! No! My wolf howled.

  Breaking away from me, his body starting to morph into a partial shift, he had bloodlust in his eyes. Holy fuck, he was g
oing to go after Fynn. Thinking fast, I gripped that thick strip of hair bisecting his head, getting a good grip on it, and dunked his ass under the water. Shocked, Ansel gurgled and his arms flailed as I shoved him down, putting that Alpha bullshit behind my strength. Biting at my lip, eyes darting about wildly, my sunglasses dropped into the water as I bobbed about frantically, lost somewhere in the melee. Thinking fast, I maneuvered my inner tube so it was over Ansel, then jerked him back up to the surface through the middle, until his head was above the water. Think. Think... Think, Emmy! Your male’s losing his shit and about to go on a rage fueled rampage. Thinking about Omega bullshit and sensing things or whatever, I glanced down to my sputtering floaty donut companion thoughtfully. It might work. It could...

  “Come here.” Barking orders, I dropped down into the water until Ansel and I were eye level. Realizing Ansel was already butt arsed naked, probably having shifted in the buff to quickly make his getaway, I started working on my bathing suit bottoms. Admitting defeat as I tried to keep hold of him, lose my shorts, and stay afloat, I gave up, wrapping my arms around his neck, my legs around his thick waist, and ground myself wantonly into him.

  Ansel groaned, his attention effectively diverted, his dick trapped, snug between us as I began to dry hump him into oblivion. “Emmy,” he groaned, his hands going to my back, clinging to me.

  “It’s okay, big guy. I gotcha.” Burying my face against his neck as Fynn called again and Ansel’s head jerked in the direction of that voice, his lips pulling back in a presnarl, I pulled out the big guns. Reaching down between us as my teeth bit down on the spot his shoulder met his neck, I slid the crotch of my suit bottom’s to the side and adjusted my hips. Ansel was not gypped in the dick department, his cock long and thick, slightly pointed at the tip as his partial shift lingered. Lining us up, I was already ready to go, slick with want as I wedged the fat head of his manhood snug against my entrance.

  “Emmy,” Ansel choked out as my legs locked around him tight and I slowly sank down onto that thick beast. Lapping at the spot I’d just marked with my pointy chompers, sealing my fate, I pulled back to kiss his parted, half gaping, bulgy-eyed fish face. Ansel’s hands dug into my back as my hips gave a swivel and he sank deeper. “Fuck. Emmy.” Hips jerking, he let out a choked sound, his eyes bugging in his stunned face.