Without touching me, he leaned in, his shadow falling across me. “I did not say it would be casual between us.”
Bumps rose along my skin, spreading down from the ear he breathed on to the hard nipple of my right breast, and on down to my core. If his breath could do such a thing, I wondered what his hands could do. Oh did I wonder. My eyes closed at the thought alone. Grass and earth sighed beneath his feet as he took another step closer. I held my hand out to stop him, gasping when it ran into his hard, bare chest.
“Stop. I have to be sure it isn’t the verða.”
He complied, but didn’t step back. Beneath my hand, his chest rose and fell with the rhythm of quick breaths that made mine quicker.
“It is not the verða, Sonya. And I am not Raul,” he said, not quite sounding convinced on that first part.
“I have to be sure.”
Possibly the sexiest laugh I had ever heard rumbled from him. “Open your eyes or move your hand lower; you will be sure. I shared a high school locker room with Raul. I know he does not exactly measure up to me. The bastard was pressed up against you hard enough the night I ran him off that I know you will feel the difference.” His voice deepened on the last part, almost became a growl. The little touch of jealousy sent a thrill through me.
How well I knew that was true, thanks to his display at the lake. His words might have pissed me off if my mind could stop picturing him naked and wet. Before my body could betray my resolve, I yanked my hand off him and took a step back. “I mean I have to be sure it isn’t the verða.”
He waved his hand dismissively and took a long drink of water. Tension and doubt hid in his movements and in the lines of his face. As he moved, I watched sweat drip from his blond hair, trail down his neck, and work its way to his chest. My tongue was trailing across my lower lip before I even realized I had begun to lick it. When he lowered the water bottle and met my gaze I could still feel the hunger burning in my eyes. I had not wanted him to see that.
“That is easy,” he said.
It took me a moment to remember what we’d been talking about. “How can I make sure it isn’t the verða?”
“Shift and the verða will be over.”
The way he said it so casually, as if it wasn’t my greatest fear, made me wonder if he was trying to make light of it, or if he hadn’t noticed how afraid I was. Or he chose to notice how badly my body wanted—no, needed—to shift. I absolutely ached with the desire. Each day the moon grew fuller made it harder to resist.
“I’m not ready. It’s too soon.” But was it? Part of me vehemently disagreed.
The playful, lusty look on his face transformed into one of his “teaching moment” looks—brows high, chin dropped so he stared at me through his sweaty bangs. “You are ready.”
I started to shake my head and couldn’t stop. Suddenly, he stood before me again, his hands gripping my arms gently. Both his touch and closeness soothed me. But they also touched the wildness that rose within me at the idea of shifting, excited it.
“I don’t want to be out of control,” I whispered, eyes on his bare feet, which were half buried in green grass.
“You will not be. You can do this.”
One of his fingers traced along my chin, lifting it so I would look at him. Though a glimmer of the playful, sexy attitude remained in his eyes, his face was all serious.
“You are ready. I know you are.”
The faith in his voice struck something deep inside me that had nothing to do with desire. I realized I wanted to do this not only to make sure my attraction to him wasn’t the verða, but to make him proud. Unfortunately, it was the same reason I was afraid to fail. He had worked so hard preparing me over the last two weeks. Seeing how I was his first, I wanted to succeed almost as much for him as I did for myself.
“But the madness…” My voice trailed off so the last part of the word was barely audible, even to varúlfur hearing. The desire to let my wolf side through, to let my paws touch the earth, to run with the energy of the forest coursing through me, it was so strong that it took my breath away.
He shook his head slowly, eyes holding mine. “You are displaying all the signs of a well-adjusted new varúlfur and none of the signs of one slipping into madness.”
I tried to return the smile but I was sure it came out looking horrific. “More from your kennari how-to book?”
“Yes, but it is more than that. You understand and accept the instincts of both humans and wolves. And you have a strong desire to help people, not harm them, as is reflected in your fighting skills.” He took a breath to go on, but I halted his words with a playful punch in one hard bicep.
“Hey!”
He grinned and took hold of my chin again. “I would not encourage you to do this if I did not think you were ready. There is a connection between us, Sonya. Through that, I can feel that you are ready.”
It felt like my cheeks literally tried to catch fire. With my chin in his hand, I couldn’t look away, so I had to make light of the situation. “Is that some kind of kennari-nemi bond thing?”
“You are my first. I do not know.” His body leaned closer and his voice dropped an octave. “But I really do not think so.”
Time to woman up because shit was getting real. “All right, so how does this work?” I asked.
Smiling, he let go of my chin. “First you have to want to change, then simply will yourself to do it, and you will.”
The near panic that gripped my heart must have shown on my face because he took hold of my hand. “It will not hurt any more than the burning you have already felt beneath your skin. Your bones do not break and reshape, your skin does not stretch. It is not like the movies. Your atoms transform from one solid body to another, simple as that.”
To wet my increasingly dry throat, I swallowed a few times. “Will you shift for me?”
“Of course.” His smile grew wider. “But I have to strip.”
I pulled my hand from his and slapped his hard chest. “Be serious.”
His brows rose in feigned innocence that looked anything but. “I am. Clothes do not magically dissolve and reform. This process is natural, not magical.”
Laughter burst from me before I could stop it. “You do realize that shifting into a wolf is an impossibility, therefore it has to be magical,” I asked.
Ty shook his head. “We are made up of atoms. Atoms are building blocks, simply put. Rearranging building blocks is complicated, but completely possible. Our brains are developed further—or in another direction, if you prefer—than other humans, based off our DNA, which is transferred through our venom when we choose to change another. This supports the theory of the verða.”
“How do you know all of this?”
Cocking his head at me, he lifted an eyebrow. “Our kind live for five hundred years, giving us plenty of time to advance and learn. We are not all teachers; some are scientists, doctors, engineers. We are more than human, more than wolf.”
Complicated as all that was, I followed it, and couldn’t argue with it. I mean, seriously, how could I? I wasn’t even finished becoming a varúlfur yet. What did I know? Besides, strange as it was, it did make a sort of scientific sense. That, or I was already mad to think so. No. I stamped that fear back down where it belonged. Ty said I was ready, and I trusted him.
My thoughts blew away as Ty pulled his T-shirt off and dropped it on the ground. Perfect pecs any runway model would be envious of filled my vision at eye-level. Resist though I tried, my eyes moved down the path of his hard abdominals, past his belly button, and snagged on where his hands worked at untying the drawstring on his sweatpants. All of a sudden this didn’t seem like a good way to quell my desire. In fact, it seemed like a horrible idea, as it was having the exact opposite effect. Still, I couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop it, wouldn’t. I prayed to any that would listen to make what we felt be something more than the verða.
Clearly for my torment, he pushed his sweatpants slowly down his hips. At last, he spr
ang free of the cotton confines to stand up fully erect. The moisture in my mouth vanished. I shook my head and forced my eyes up to his chest. Just because he was impressively hung didn’t mean he knew how to use it. Or worse, that he cared to use it for more than his own pleasure. Of the two men I had been with in my life, neither of them had much interest in anything beyond their own orgasms. I had read enough romance novels and watched enough porn to hope that men existed who cared about pleasuring a woman, but never having met one, they seemed like a myth. Then again, so had werewolves a few weeks ago.
My eyes tried to slip back down but I forced them up to his face. If this was a ploy to make me not think about the risk of going mad, it was working, too well. The smirk turning up the corners of his mouth gave him an impish look that made me shake my head. Most guys would respond to such impressed perusal of their bodies with an egotistical overconfidence, but not Ty. No, he found it amusing.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“I am about to shift into a wolf, something you did not even know was possible a few weeks ago, and you cannot take your eyes off my goods.”
Some of the tension eased out of me. “Your goods?” I laughed, not derisive or making fun of him, but because the phrase was far too cute for such a hulk of a man to utter.
He stalked up to me, passing close enough that our shoulders brushed. As our skin touched he leaned down and whispered in my ear. “Would you prefer I use the word cock?”
A thrill of naughty pleasure shot straight down to my tightening core.
He let out a small, deep laugh. “I was merely trying to maintain our attempt at being a gentleman and a lady.”
The temptation to lean into him overwhelmed me, but he moved past me before I could.
“I think that went out the window the moment you stripped naked in front of me, again,” I said, brows rising on the last word.
I turned to keep him in sight as he crossed the open space of the yard, stopping beside a tree. Eyes on his face, I secretly reveled in all I could see out of the edges of my vision. Telling myself the verða made me feel this way didn’t reduce the power of my desire one bit. It should have, but it didn’t.
“The first rule of shifting is to make sure humans cannot see you. That means knowing your surroundings,” he said, chin lifting to indicate the tree line.
His words worked like a splash of cold water in my face, dousing my desire in an instant. Some small part of me resisted the possibility of shifting, even though my fangs and claws had already proven it to a point. Instead of thinking about that, I tried to focus on the lesson of the moment.
“You moved over there so the trees hid you from the house across the lake,” I said.
“Exactly.”
“But it’s too far away for them to see anything.”
He shook his head. “Not in this day and age. Do not ever underestimate the nosiness of others. Always assume everyone is trying to watch you, and always keep satellites in mind. It is the only way to stay safe and keep the secret of our kind.”
Fear danced across my skin as though it possessed the razor-sharp claws of a newborn kitten. As if worrying about shifting and going insane weren’t enough…
“How do I do it?” I asked.
“Decide to shift, and you will. Your skin will grow hot, vibrate for a moment, then you will flow from a human into a wolf, like water moving from one glass to another.”
The right side of my lips lifted. “You make it sound so poetic.”
“It is, really.”
“Will I still be able to think? Will I still be…me, inside the wolf?” I couldn’t bring myself to ask if I’d go mad. He’d only say no to make me feel better, anyways. The truth was, neither of us would know for sure until I shifted.
The lecture on shifting put his desire on the back shelf, as was evident by his lowering erection. It bounced as if my gaze on him alone stirred him. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to focus. The delicious distraction of his chiseled body was working well to ebb my fear of shifting. A plan of his, no doubt. The fear of going insane, well, nothing was going to reduce that.
“Of course, just with less inhibitions. It is a bit like being drunk in a way, that carefree feeling, but with your senses and reaction times improving instead of decreasing.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” I said. My eyes drifted downward. “All right, I’m ready.” It was a loaded statement considering my physical reaction to him, but to his credit, he didn’t take the opening.
Some force I felt on a gut level pulled my eyes up and his gaze snagged mine.
“There is nothing to be afraid of,” he said.
Then he shifted.
Chapter Twenty
Sonya
Like air across an Arizona blacktop in summer, the image of him wavered and flowed, just as he had described. His hands reached for the ground and by the time they touched, they were paws. That quick, he became a huge wolf covered in a blond and white fur coat. He barely had to tilt his head up to meet my eyes, which put his shoulders at about four feet tall. Anyone who saw him could easily mistake him for a bear at first glance, especially considering he had to weigh over two hundred pounds. But then, that made sense. His mass would be the same.
And I realized, I had seen his wolf before. Back when I’d been dating Raul, I’d seen a man—who I was now certain was Raul—face down this very wolf. Even then Ty had been protecting me. I had suspected, but now I knew for sure.
“Holy shit.” I stumbled backward several steps, nearly tripping over my own feet.
The light crystal blue of his eyes captured mine. Crazy as it seemed, I swore I could feel him behind those eyes, not like madness crazy. At least, I didn’t think so. But what if it was? When he took a step toward me, I took another back. My feet tangled together and I fell onto my butt in the grass. He followed me, nose reaching out to my hand. Every instinct in my body told me to pull back, run, or fight, but I ignored them all and let him touch me. Fur so soft it felt like silk brushed my skin as he rubbed his long canine face against my hand. If this was madness, I didn’t mind it so much.
“You’re gorgeous,” I whispered.
His eyes sparkled and I swear one edge of his mouth quirked up.
“Don’t let that go to your head,” I warned.
A barking sound that might have been a laugh came from him. My fear began to subside, leaving a burning curiosity in its place. Along with something else, something that pulled at me like a magnet, urging me to join him. For the first time, I wanted to shift, truly wanted to with all my heart. The compulsion became stronger the longer I looked at him, dissolving my fear until none of it remained. My skin became stifling hot, graduating into the feeling of a bad sunburn. Gently, he took the edge of my tank top in his teeth and tugged on it.
“All right, all right,” I said.
Pushing him away, I stood and peeled off my tank. My sports bra followed it to the ground a moment later. Exquisite cool air caressed my skin, leeching the heat away a little. For a second I thought I was shaking, then I realized my skin was vibrating. The movement tickled as it heated me. Ty took a step back, his four paws as quiet as his bare feet always were. Looking at him increased my need to shift to the point where I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer. Fangs grew within my mouth. My fingernails formed into claws. Fear fled me in a rush, leaving me feeling buzzed and energized. Careful of my claws, I slid my yoga pants and panties down my hips and stepped out of them. Even though he was in wolf form, I instinctively turned a bit and held a hand over my birthmark to hide it from Ty.
I thought about being a wolf, how I wanted to be one right now. Deep inside, I felt it. The wolf wasn’t a separate being within me like I had thought. The wolf and I were one and the same. It was the pure, instinctual part of me and it longed to be set free. The decision to let it felt like the most sane idea I’d ever had. I hoped like hell it was.
Like I had seen Ty do, I reached for the ground. The vibrations in my body incre
ased, becoming white-hot for a fraction of a second. Green grass rushed toward me and suddenly my hands—no, my paws—were on it. Legs led down to the paws, not arms. Black fur that shone in the sun covered me. On instinct, I tried to say “Wow,” but it came out as a guttural canine sound. Until that moment, it hadn’t dawned on me that I wouldn’t be able to speak. Dizziness rushed through me, leaving me feeling slightly disoriented.
This new body felt very different, yet somehow still right. I turned toward Ty and was surprised to discover how easy moving on four legs was. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of my own tail. It was solid black like the rest of me seemed to be. I wagged it experimentally, thrilling at how I could feel the movement all the way up my spine. The details of my shiny black coat jumped out at me. Everything looked different, not because of color, that was quite similar, but it was all sharper and more focused. Ty’s wolf form was even more beautiful through a wolf’s eyes. His fur was mostly blond with gray markings on his face, chest, shoulders, and tail. A weird compulsion to rub all over him until I was covered in his scent seized me.
So much for my desire being a product of the verða.
As for the madness, I had never felt so clear-headed in all my life. Not even my decision to attend med school had made me feel this…right.
The scents of a thousand different things poured down my nose—which was quite distracting considering its length. Each tree, bush, plant, and flower had such a distinctive scent that I had never noticed before. The only thing I could compare it to was the scent of the first grass cut during summer—but even that didn’t explain it. So vivid were the smells that I could practically see scent trails left by deer, squirrels, even Ty and myself. It was heady, overwhelming, and I wanted to experience more.
A blond and white tail wagged in my peripheral vision. Ty’s head tipped in the direction of the forest, gaze shooting toward the path. While I understood well enough, I realized Icelandic wasn’t the only language I was going to need to learn. The body language of wolves would hopefully be a tad easier, though. Ty trotted toward the path and I followed without thinking. Then it dawned on me—I was walking on four legs. Not only was that something I hadn’t done since being a baby, my back legs bent the wrong way. Oddly enough, overthinking it didn’t trip me up or make it harder. My body simply did what I asked of it, one foot in front of the other in an easy rhythm.
Bitten & Beholden (Children of Fenrir Book 2) Page 20