Falke’s Peak pn-1

by Anna Leigh Keaton

  She grinned at him. “Thanks, Axel.” Then she grew serious. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you I got cold. I thought I could work through it.”

  He reached over and pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, making her shiver but not from cold.

  “You did work through it. Just don’t do it again, okay?”

  She nodded.

  He seemed to collect himself. His hand dropped as he stepped back and sat down a few feet away on the sofa.

  Falke stepped up onto the sofa and sprawled out next to Axel. Both of them looked at her, and it struck her, suddenly, that their eyes—man’s and cat’s—were almost the same color.

  * * *

  As it turned out, the door she’d spotted wasn’t the bedroom. That was up a narrow, rough-hewn wooden ladder to the loft. One bed. Huge, but only one.

  Although, the couch had a queen-sized hideaway under its cushions—something Axel quickly pointed out. She’d been amazed to watch Falke completely bypass the ladder and land at the top with one big leap.

  The doorway was to a bathroom of sorts. No running water, so no sink; however, Dakota couldn’t quite express her thanks for the rather high-tech looking waterless composting toilet. She wouldn’t have to go outside and wade through high snow banks to reach an outhouse in the frigid weather and pitch black night.

  But best of all was the far corner of the small room.

  Axel had warmed up a full ten gallons of water for her while they waited for the stew to start bubbling and, after supper, put on a second, smaller pot for the hot chocolate. He then took the ten gallons into the bathroom and filled a tank hung from the ceiling above a drain in the floor. A nifty little shower stall.

  “Oh, Axel, this is awesome,” she’d exclaimed, wanting to push him out of the room so she could strip down and take her shower.

  “There’s towels, shampoo, etcetera in there.” He pointed to a white cabinet on the wall. He’d lit two fat candles in the bathroom for light, and Dakota did her best not to stare at him in the romantic setting. Okay, a rustic bathroom wasn’t that romantic, but she had a damn good imagination.

  She rushed back to her pack, pulled out the flannel pajamas she purchased yesterday after booking the trip and practically skipped into the bathroom to shower.

  Outside the bathroom, as soon as Axel heard the water trickling down the drain, he turned to speak to Gunnar.

  Don’t go there. His brother cut him off . You can’t keep your hands off her either. At least she’s the one petting me, not the other way around.

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell me she was freezing to death out there?” Axel had waited to jump Gunnar’s shit about this, even though it could have been dealt with telepathically. He was ready to strangle his brother. Between Dakota getting near hypothermic out there, and then Gunnar all but throwing himself in her lap, Axel couldn’t take much more.

  Same reason you were pushing her limits all damn day, going farther and faster than you would have with any other woman we ever brought out here. Like you, I wanted to see how far she’d go before failing.

  “Damn it, Gun, there’s a difference between sore muscles and freezing to death.”

  She wasn’t freezing to death. She was cold. Besides, by the time she started shivering, we were less than a quarter mile from the homestead.

  Axel growled and glared. Damn it, his brother was right. He’d been doing the same thing all day.

  She’s…special.

  “Shut up,” Axel hissed. Gunnar was his closest brother, in age—Axel had been first, and Gunnar was the second of four in their litter—and they’d always shared a special bond, slightly deeper than he had with the rest of his family. He knew one day they’d share a mate. It had to be if they wanted their line to continue.

  But neither of them was ready to look for one, yet.

  Until that day, there was an underlying competition between them—there had been since they were thirteen years old—where women were concerned.

  Gunnar chuckled. We’ll see who can get under her skin first. You or the pretty kitty that saved her life.

  “Goddamn it, Gun, I swear if you—”

  “Who are you talking to?” Dakota asked, stepping out of the bathroom dressed in a pair of flannel pajamas that made her look as cute and innocent as a bug, her hair wrapped turban-style in a towel.

  Don’t think I didn’t hear you calling her honey earlier…or see that little, let me put that curl behind your ear for you , touch.

  “The damn cat’s being a pain in the ass. I should kick him outside for the night.”

  “Outside? In the cold?” Dakota walked right up to Gunnar and knelt down in front of him, obviously not afraid any longer. “That’s no place for a good kitty, now is it?” she said as if speaking to a baby while she scratched his ears and rubbed his head. “You’ll be good, won’t you?”

  Gunnar purred. Loudly.

  “Fuck,” Axel muttered as he turned away and went to the sofa, where he collapsed into the corner. Gunnar would probably win this round. His only consolation was that neither of them would be having sex with Dakota. Gunnar was a damn cat, after all, and he was there in a business capacity.

  “Yes, you are, aren’t you?” she crooned.

  Oh, yes, I’m a good cat. And she obviously loves sweet little kitties.

  You aren’t a little kitten, and you damn sure aren’t sweet.

  She thinks I am. Gunnar licked Dakota’s chin, and her laugh did something to Axel’s chest that made it damn hard to breathe.

  Axel sighed and closed his eyes. “Let me know when you’re ready. I’ll make your hot chocolate.”

  “Thanks.” Dakota chuckled as Gunnar nuzzled her hand, then her belly, before he rolled onto his back and continued to purr.

  You are so going to pay, Axel told Gunnar. Next group of he-men wannabes we get, you’re going to be up here as guide trying to keep them alive.

  Gunnar laughed and purred as Dakota rubbed his chest and belly, really getting into it. It’s definitely worth it.

  * * *

  Gunnar lay on the floor near the fire, watching his brother at the stove putting together a hot breakfast for Dakota. Earlier, Axel brought fuel up from the storm shelter, while he’d moved the gas-powered generator outdoors. The small engine was now rumbling just outside the door on the front porch. The sun was up, and the two of them had opened the shutters so sunbeams streamed in through the windows and brightened up the old place.

  It had felt good to shift, if only for a brief time, and stretch his human muscles after being in his cat body for so long.

  He’d tried to convince Axel to switch with him for the day, but that hadn’t gotten him anywhere. Axel was sure Gunnar would try to get into Dakota’s pants if he were human. Gunnar figured Axel was probably right.

  That belly rub she’d given him last night had left him in quite a state.

  It was nearly 10:00 a.m., but they hadn’t heard a peep from her all morning. Of course, he could hear her breathing, but he’d been awake since before dawn and she hadn’t so much as moved a muscle. Axel thought starting breakfast, the scent of hot pancakes, would wake her up, but no such luck. Breakfast was nearly ready to be served, and she was still deep asleep.

  Maybe they’d pushed her too hard the day before.

  She’d been a real trooper, though, and Gunnar couldn’t quite get over the fact she’d done so well right up until the last half hour or so of the hike. It wasn’t like Axel to press a client to the breaking point like that, not unless said client was some asshole—almost always a guy—who thought he could outdo the guide.

  Impossible really. Their catamount physiques, even in human form, could out perform any human any day of the week. It was rare that they got physically tired, or even winded. He, himself, as guide once had to rescue one of those bastards from the bottom of a ravine by himself, dragging the guy up a nearly sheer cliff face to get him to an area where a rescue team could land the chopper and haul him off the mountain.


  It was just part of who they were. Long life spans-provided they didn’t run into a stray bullet. Contrary to popular belief about shape-shifting creatures, such as werewolves, they weren’t immortal. A plain ol’ bullet from any decent hunting rifle could take them down the same as any other mountain lion, or human for that matter. But they did tend to live to a ripe old age of around a hundred under the right circumstances. They were strong, fit, and—he stood up and headed for the ladder to the loft where Dakota slept—they had a tendency to enjoy the ladies.

  Axel wanted Dakota. That was no secret, especially to Gunnar, who in his puma form could easily scent the pheromones both Axel and Dakota released whenever they so much as looked at each other. Hell, Gunnar wanted her too, but he didn’t have a chance while he was here as a cat. The thing he didn’t think Axel realized was that there was something more to Dakota than a quick fuck. There was a deeper attraction than Axel would admit. Gunnar knew, because he felt it too.

  They weren’t old, but their fathers had been urging them, and their litter mates, to start searching for the one. The odds of finding a female that carried the right gene, like their sister, was slim to impossible.

  Yes, they needed to procure offspring, and without a match of their own kind, only a vital, healthy human woman could keep their line alive—but she’d have to be willing to mate with two of them. And if the shapeshifting didn’t scare her off, the idea of polygamy surely would.

  Though their fathers warned this might take time, as caution was a must, at only thirty, he and his brothers all felt they had a few more years before the search for a prospective mate needed to happen.

  Gunnar leaped up to the loft and landed on silent paws. Dakota lay sprawled near the edge of the king-sized bed, one arm dangling off the side. Her breathing was deep and even. The poor woman was exhausted.

  He silently padded to the bed and peered over the edge at her. No dark smudges beneath her eyes, which was a good sign. She smelled good too. Very good.

  Gunnar had the urge to bury his nose against her side and breathe her in, but he refrained. She’d probably freak out, since only twenty-four hours ago she was sure he was going to eat her.

  Not that he wouldn’t mind a taste or two…

  He sat on his haunches and stared at her. Come on, sweetheart. Time to wake up. He could send his thoughts to a human, but he couldn’t read humans’ minds, which was a real bitch at times.

  She didn’t budge, and he sighed. The good thing, he supposed, was that if a woman slept that soundly, she felt safe. He’d sensed her unease last night when they entered the cabin. That wolf had scared her half to death, and when it got dark last night, the fear she’d tried so valiantly to suppress came back.

  He turned his head and nuzzled her palm, giving it a little lick. She tasted as good as honey, and he wouldn’t mind a few more licks, but he stopped himself when she groaned.

  Her lashes fluttered open, and blurry eyes stared at him. He pushed his head against her palm and purred.

  “Hey, pretty kitty,” Dakota murmured. But then she tried to roll onto her side, gasped, groaned, and flopped back on her belly with a curse muffled by the pillow.

  Damn, damn, damn. They’d pushed her way too hard. She could barely move. He was about to tell Axel to get up here, when the front door opened and his brother went out, probably to gather more firewood.

  She turned her head to face him again, and a frown marred her pretty brow. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.” She laid her hand on his head again, though not scratching or petting. “Oh, God,” she mumbled when she tried again to turn over. “My legs…my back. Shit, where’s a masseuse…or chiropractor when a girl needs one?”

  He gave her hand a quick swipe with his tongue, then leaped onto the bed, over her, onto the empty side, and shoved the covers off of her with his nose.

  Then he planted his big front paws against her lower back. It was the best he could do right now, not having any hands. He proceeded to knead into her.

  A soft, gusty laugh came out of her as she flopped once again to her belly. “My friend had a cat that did that, but you’re much better at it.” She sighed. “How the hell did you know? Ohhh…yeah…right there…that’s the spot.”

  Her muscles were knotted like rocks, so he kept it up. She didn’t seem to notice that his motions weren’t quite those of a normal cat. Probably didn’t matter to her since she was in so much pain.

  The front door opened again, and Gunnar peered over the edge of the loft to see that he’d been correct.

  Axel carried a load of wood.

  “Ahhhh….” Dakota moaned when he hit a particularly hard knot of muscles.

  “Dakota?” Axel called.

  She can barely move, Gunnar sent to him.

  “I’m here,” Dakota said, then moaned again as Gunnar moved down her back, just above her butt.

  And what a fine butt it was. Soft enough to jiggle a little when he moved her with his paws, firm enough to be perfectly shaped.

  “What the hell…?” Axel’s head popped into view over the edge of the loft as he climbed the ladder.

  “Falke gives great back rubs,” she muttered. “Can I buy him off you?”

  “Move,” Axel said to Gunnar, anger in his tone, and shoved him, hard, off the edge of the bed.

  Gunnar hissed. What the fuck, Ax?

  You just had to wake her up, didn’t you?

  No. Shit, she was in pain, and you were outside. I did the best I could with what I’ve got.

  Axel was obviously ignoring him. He climbed onto the bed and took over where Gunnar had just been.

  “Aww, honey, you’re all twisted up here.”

  “Uh-huh. Oh, that’s nice too.” She sighed, and Gunnar sat on his haunches so he could watch her face. Her dark skin and straight, raven hair were magnificent. Her lips were plump, but not filled with collagen like so many of the ski bunnies that came to Leavenworth. He’d bet they were soft and tasted even better than her skin.

  “Hey, pretty kitty,” she said as she reached out again and laid her hand on Gunnar’s head. “Thanks for tryin’, but Axel’s…ahhh…yeah…there…”

  She sounded like a woman in the throes of sex, and Gunnar was damn tempted to shift and help his brother out. Four hands would be better than two.

  But that was against the rules. Rules all of the brothers lived by. No one—absolutely no one outside of the family—knew the truth of their heritage. It was way too risky to their way of life, especially since they’d given up a more nomadic existence. None of them wanted to have to leave the idyllic surroundings of their childhood home.

  Gunnar sniffed the air. Dakota was so turned on, if Axel made one move now, he’d have her without a single protest. Hell, as turned on as she was, she’d probably be begging soon. No way Gunnar would let that happen. He had a feeling about this woman, and Axel wasn’t going to get her all to himself. Not if he had any say in it. And he did. He was the one with sharp teeth and claws right now.

  * * *

  Dakota groaned and sighed and moaned. She ached so badly, but on the other hand, she’d never had such an awesome massage. Never in her life had she experienced such talented hands loosening muscles and making her skin so warm. When Axel’s callused hands slid under her pajama top to work her lower back, her thoughts turned to things other than soreness.

  The heat he transferred into her body seemed to slide lower and lower, until she wanted to spread her legs and beg him to come on in.

  Then his hands moved down to the backs of her thighs, so close to where she was hot and needy. She gripped the pillow with one hand, Falke’s head with the other, and forced herself not to move her hips.

  “How you doing?” Axel asked.

  His voice was so low and sexy. She’d die to hear that phrase whispered in her ear while he was buried deep inside of her.

  “Dakota?”

  “Mmm. Good.” She couldn’t say much else. “Don’t stop. I almost feel human again.” The aches she
woke up with seemed to fly right out the window. But she didn’t want him to stop. Not ever.

  He chuckled. “I’m sorry, honey. Yesterday was too much for you.”

  There was that word again. Honey. She liked the way he said it and wondered what he meant by it.

  “We’ll take it easy today, sit around the cabin and relax.”

  Or stay in bed, she thought. With you. Dakota sighed. Would he?

  He worked his magical fingers and palms down the backs of her thighs, her calves, even took some extra time on the soles of her feet.

  “Roll over. Let me get your quads.”

  She let go of Falke and rolled. Her back still ached a little, but the worst of the pain was gone.

  “How are your arms?”

  “Arms are fine.” She gasped when his hands touched her inner thigh.

  Axel looked up at her face. “Hurt?”

  Slowly she shook her head. Do it again. Do it again. Please!

  He didn’t though, seeming to be much more careful not to touch her in a too intimate way. Why? If he thought she was injured and couldn’t fight off advances she didn’t want, it was so not true. She wouldn’t fight him, not one little bit.

  Testing out her back, careful not to move too fast for fear she only felt good lying on it, she used her arms to lever herself into a sitting position, her face within inches of Axel’s.

  “How’s it feel?” he asked.

  She glanced down at his crotch, saw the hard outline of his erection pressed against the fly of his jeans, and would’ve liked to ask him the same question. She wasn’t a virgin by any means, but she’d been so busy with school and then landing the job at the advertising firm, she hadn’t had much time for fun.

  For men.