Wedding the Wolf: A wolf shifter paranormal romance

by Steffanie Holmes

  Caleb gave us both a final wink, and shoved his way out the door. Inwardly, I cringed, knowing I’d have to explain how I ken Willow later. But it was hard to dwell on my problems when I was alone with the most beautiful woman in the world, and she was biting her lip in that way that drove me crazy.

  “Well, will you come tonight?” I wanted to kiss that worried look right off her face. “I’d really like to see you again.”

  “I …” She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Why on earth would you think that?”

  “Because what happened the other night was a mistake.” Willow’s eyes darted to the door again.

  “If that’s true, it’s the most glorious mistake I’ve ever made. And judging by the way your tongue wrapped around mine, you agreed at the time. So what changed?”

  She looked like a deer caught in headlights. “We can’t talk about this here.”

  I swept an arm around the bakery. The line had snaked around us, and the tables were all full. Everyone was either talking and laughing or staring at their phones. “No one’s listening.”

  She leaned forward, rewarding me with another tantalising glimpse of her cleavage. Her cheeks flushed an even darker pink. “After what Robbie did, it’s already dangerous enough—”

  “Forget about that for a moment. We sorted it. I want to ken why it is you’re so determined to ignore the attraction between us.” I reached out and grazed her hand with the tips of my fingers. The energy leapt between our skin, igniting my whole body. Willow’s eyes widened, but she didn’t pull away.

  “Because I’m human, and you’re … what you are.”

  “It’s nae unnatural, us being together. Werewolves and humans have been mating since the beginning of time. It’s how our species continues.” I stoked her finger, and a small sigh escaped her lips. “Not all shifters are evil.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  “That wasnae what you were saying when my hands were all over your body.”

  Willow’s breath hitched, and her dark eyes widened further. “That’s not … I’m not usually …”

  “All I’m asking is that you give me a chance to show you that good things can happen when shifters and humans co-mingle. Come to the pub with us tonight. I promise it will be worth your while.”

  I traced my finger over the back of her hand. She shuddered, her eyes fluttering closed as the connection sparked between us.

  “I’ll … I’ll think about it.” I could tell from the way the flush spread all the way down her neck, she wouldn’t be able to stay away. She held up her organiser, obscuring half her face. “I have to work.”

  “Of course. In that outfit, you wonnae have any trouble knocking ‘em dead.”

  The spark in Willow’s eyes told me that compliment had hit home. “Goodbye,” she whispered, and hurried around the counter, where Belinda was waiting for her.

  I ken she’d come tonight.

  If I had anything to say about it, she’d come more than once.

  I’d seen that look in her eyes. For all her fear, she wanted it just as much as I did.

  She felt the connection, which meant I’d just dug an even bigger trap for myself.

  Willow Summers, you’re under my skin. Maybe, if I can show you that not all shifters will hurt you, there might be a chance for us yet.

  7

  Willow

  I can’t go.

  There are a million reasons why it's a bad idea. I can list them. I’ll be walking into a pub filled with werewolves. I don’t drink. I can’t run fast enough to escape them if something goes wrong. They may all act friendly, but they’ll just turn on me, like all the other friends I’ve tried to make before. I’ll risk someone standing on my foot, or tripping over my shin, and discovering the truth.

  I was standing in front of the mirror again, wearing a pair of tailored black jeans that flared at the bottom, and a red-draped top that left one shoulder bare. It was the tenth outfit I’d tried on, and not a single one looked right. Nothing I owned said what I wanted it to say.

  What did I want it to say?

  Irvine, take me now.

  Stick your tongue down my throat.

  Lick me all over.

  Fuck me hard against the wall.

  I don’t want to be a virgin anymore.

  I rubbed my hand where Irvine had grazed it earlier. My skin still tingled from his touch. My lips ached for the warmth of his mouth on mine. Further south, there was another ache, one that had never before been satisfied.

  That look in Irvine’s eyes at the bakery today flashed in my mind. The look that said he saw right through me. He knew everything I desired, and he’d happily give it to me, if only I was brave enough to ask.

  He’s a werewolf. Take that ridiculous outfit off, climb into bed, and put on an episode of Midsomer Murders.

  I knew that was the smart thing to do, which was exactly why I threaded on a pair of dangling amethyst drop earrings, smoothed my hair down one last time, and glanced around for my purse.

  I never claimed to be smart.

  I spied my purse sitting on the windowsill. I hobbled over the pile of discarded clothes on the floor and grabbed it. I ran my fingers over the quilted leather – a new purchase, not my usual style, but it seemed perfect for Willow Summers.

  I stared out the window, marvelling at how much my life had changed. I had my own windows, where I could gaze down on my tiny kingdom of independence. The window in my kitchen/living area pointed over the intersection, but this window looked out over the parking lot behind the shop and the forest beyond. Bianca’s tattoo parlour and my flat were part of a tiny cluster of shops on the corner of Blossom and Honeysuckle. Honeysuckle Road was your typical street of terraced houses that met up with the high street in a couple of blocks. I’d be walking down there in a few minutes, if I decided to go to the pub, which I totally shouldn’t do.

  In the other direction, Blossom Road was lined with sprawling Victorian and Edwardian mansions. Elinor and Eric lived right at the end of that street, in the impressive Marshell House at number 22. I’d never visited there, but I’d walked past a couple of times – it was pretty infamous in the village. Behind all the houses, the trees of Crookshollow Forest loomed large and foreboding – a giant dark shadow obscuring the horizon.

  I shimmied my hips, enjoying the way my draped top moved with my body. I’d been invited to my first ever “drinks”. Carol Winters may have been a hopeless amputee loser, but Willow Summers was kicking arse and taking names.

  My phone buzzed. Mum’s face popped up on the screen, no doubt calling to try and figure out where I was again. For a moment, my finger hesitated over the START CALL button. Even though she was a nut job, she’d always looked after me. It would be so easy to tell her that I was surrounded by shifters. I could go back, stay locked up in her house and eat her questionable food and never have to deal with the outside world and all the cruel things it contained—

  No.

  I tossed the still-buzzing phone across the room. It hit the wall and bounced onto a pile of wedding magazines.

  To hell with it. If I was truly going to be free of Mum, then it’s time I figured out things for myself. She’d tried to shelter me from the real world my whole life, and I never got to do stuff like go to the pub with friends. Alex and Elinor were so nice, and Belinda at the bakery said she’d be there, too. So there would be plenty of non-werewolves, and … maybe Irvine was right, and I should give werewolves a chance. I should give him a chance—

  What was that?

  I leaned my face against the window pane and squinted at the tree line, trying to see deep in the shadows. At the far corner of the parking lot, where Bianca stored the recycling bins, something moved through a shaft of moonlight. For a moment, I picked up the figure of a man dressed all in black, and then it was gone again.

  The fear clenched at my stomach. Someone was out there watching me.

  It’s just some guy out for a ramble
. It could be a hunter heading into the forest, or some drunk stumbling home. Just because I can see a person dressed in black doesn’t mean they’re watching me.

  But what if they are? My chest tightened. What if Caleb has realised who I am and has sent someone to spy on me? What if Mum really did hire a private investigator, and he’s tracked me down, or it’s my father, back to finish the job?

  Screw this.

  I grabbed my purse and phone, ripped my coat off the back of my chair and raced for the door. Damn this to hell. I was going to go out and have fun and forget about men skulking in the shadows and lose myself in Irvine’s eyes.

  As I passed the kitchen, I drew out a long carving knife from the block and hugged it against the lining of my coat. Just in case. That should cover me from the door to the car, because even though I was braving the pub, there no way in hell I’d walk two blocks by myself now. I checked the contents of my purse – keys, mobile phone, pepper spray, loose coins, spare lipstick, condom … just seeing it there made my cheeks flush with heat, but I didn’t remove it

  I locked the door behind me, and descended the steps into the narrow corridor that led to the tattoo shop. Outside, I dared one last glance at the tree line, but I couldn’t see that shadow man, so I raced around back to my car.

  I’d just managed to get the door open when a voice shouted behind me. Heart pounding, I dived into the driver’s seat, and slammed the door behind me. The knife bumped against my chest.

  “Hey, miss!”

  I jammed my key into the ignition and the Fiat puttered to life. I backed out of my spot just as a black-clothed man ran jerkily across the parking lot and leapt in front of the car.

  “Argh!” I slammed the car into drive and jerked my lever forward. The wheel arch squeaked as it juddered across the curb. I yanked the wheel around and skidded across the footpath, coming out on the other side of the man and racing toward the village high street. My taillights caught his features – a young guy, mid-twenties, with broad shoulders, buzzed hair and an expression that was cold and hard and twisted with rage. He raced after me.

  “You! Hey you!” he yelled as he waved his arms. “Stop! I need to talk to you. It’s a matter of life and death!”

  8

  Irvine

  “It needs to be a public reveal.” Caleb slammed his pint down on the table. “Some event where millions of people are watching worldwide. There needs to be enough eyewitnesses that the evidence can’t be argued with.”

  “Like a football game?” Luke suggested. Beside him, his wife Anna sipped her ginger ale and checked her mobile phone again. It was one of her first nights out since the birth of their son, Colin, so she was nervous about leaving him with Ryan’s mother Clara. Clara was kind of a surrogate grandmother to the pack, and she was thrilled to be on babysitting duties. Even though Clara was sharp as a tack, Anna seemed to think something could go wrong at any moment.

  Speaking of wrong, I glanced toward the door again. No Willow. Where is she?

  I thought for sure she’d be here.

  “Something smaller, I think.” Cole – the pack’s resident raven shifter – tossed his waist-length black hair over his shoulder. “I’d hate to cause a panic and have so many people in danger of trampling each other.”

  “Agreed. What I want to know is, how do you think this ‘reveal’ will go?” Caleb’s fiancée, Rosa, asked, tucking a strand of her frizzy black hair behind her ear. It bounced right back out again. “Aren’t you worried security at an event like that will just pull out their guns and shoot you all down?”

  “It absolutely cannot be seen as any kind of attack,” Caleb said. “That’s how the media will portray it anyway, so we need to make absolute sure we give them as little fodder as possible. Ideally, it would be an event where we had control over the security, which means major sporting events are out, unless anyone has any contacts.”

  “Agreed, but with the Wulfrics and Irvine’s pack on our side, we could probably manage a small security crew.” Luke shovelled a handful of chips into his mouth. “We set up our own security firm and win the contract for whatever event we decide to do. I think the Wulfrics have already got uniforms and a website and everything.”

  I remembered what Rolf had said about the Wulfrics plans to become high-priced bodyguards and security as their “legitimate” business.

  Caleb was nodding. “I think, a three-pronged approach. We start with a smaller event with a crowd we can control, but one that’s trending on social media or whatever it is … where thousands of people are watching online. We want this to go viral. Then, as soon as the news starts to hit the media about the reveal, we need as many shifters as possible to march on Westminster. We’ll camp outside until we get a voice. The occupation needs to be strictly non-violent, but we’ll need to demand our rights loud and clear. The whole world needs to be aware that there’s no going back from this.”

  “And the third group?” Luke pushed him, knowing he was heading off on a tangent.

  “The third group needs to make sure the word gets out among the shifter community and encourage others to rise up and join us. The more supporters – human or shifter – we can get to occupy, the better, but it all needs to be done without violence. If we start hurting people, they’re going to round us up and shoot us all—”

  I tried to pay attention to all of the talk around me, but my mind kept flitting back to Willow. Why wasn’t she here? It wasn’t just that I wanted to see her, or that I was dreaming of being inside her, it was that she’d fit so perfectly in our little group. I imagined her nestled against my arm, sitting around the table, nursing a G&T while she laughed at Caleb’s stupid jokes and contributed her own ideas to the effort.

  Willow doesn’t drink, remember?

  I amended my vision to replace the G&T in her hand with a ginger ale, like Anna’s, and that made me imagine the Willow in my vision as being pregnant, her beautiful stomach swelling with a new life.

  I’d have a baby with you, Willow Summers. I’d have a whole brood of them, and they’d all have your gorgeous smile—

  “ … earth to Irvine.” Caleb waved his hand in front of my face. “Are you awake in there?”

  Yikes. I jerked upright. “Aye, I’m here.”

  “Good. No, look lively, because we’ve a new addition.”

  He nodded toward the door, where Willow stood awkwardly, her gorgeous lips set in a thin line and her dark curls spilling over her shoulders. Even though it was a cool night, she wore trousers, and a black top that left one shapely shoulder naked. Her hands clutched a tiny leather purse like it was the only thing holding her upright. My breath caught at the sight of her. My mate.

  Already, the connection drew me to her, shrinking the huge room so that the only people who existed were her and me. Her eyes swept the room, and when they fell on mine, her whole body shuddered. But it wasn’t desire in her eyes, it was terror.

  Instantly, I ken something was very wrong. Willow stood rigid, her whole body frozen in place. Her eyes begged me to come to her, to catch her before her terror overwhelmed her. Was her fear of werewolves that intense? But then, why had she been able to have a conversation with Caleb and I at the bakery, let alone thrust her tongue into my mouth at the wedding?

  No, this is something else.

  I pushed my chair out, ready to pull her to me, but Elinor beat me to it.

  “Oh look, Willow’s here!” Elinor raced to the door. She took Willow’s hand and pulled her over to our group. Trust the girls to make Willow feel welcome. “You have to come join us. We’re celebrating. I’ll introduce you to everyone.” Elinor went around the table. When she got to me, I gave her a wave and a secret wink, as if we’d never met before. Willow’s face turned scarlet. Caleb gave me an odd look.

  “Nice to meet you all. I … I’ll come sit down in a moment.” Willow smiled at Elinor, but her eyes locked meaningfully with mine. “I just need to go to the bathroom.”

  “No problem. I’ll get you something
to drink. Non-alcoholic, right? Lemon, Lime and Bitters?”

  Willow nodded. With one last lingering glance at me, she headed off toward the bathrooms.

  I counted backward from thirty, then excused myself and followed her. Both men’s and women’s bathrooms at the Tir Na Nog were down a narrow hallway accessed by a single swinging door. If I’d read Willow correctly, we would have at least a few private moments to talk.

  As soon as I pushed open the door, I saw her waiting at the end of the hall, leaning against the wall and gripping her elbows so hard, she was leaving welts on her own skin. I took her hands in mine, and found them shaking.

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know … maybe nothing, but I am so freaked out right now.”

  “Why? Because of all the werewolves in the room?”

  She shook her head. “No. I mean, partly. There was this guy outside the flat when I left, and he kind of chased after me.”

  “That bastard,” I growled.

  Willow nodded. “I was just inside getting some things together to go out, and through the window, I saw a shadow in the trees – a very human-shaped shadow. It was only a moment, and I thought I’d imagined it, but then when I went out to the car, he rushed at me. He tried to block me from leaving and he was yelling at me!” She shuddered. “I managed to get in the car and lose him, and then I came straight here … I … didn’t know else to do.”

  I wrapped my arms around her and drew her close. Her body trembled against me, and she buried her face in my shoulder. My whole body lit up from her touch. The warmth of her breath against the side of my neck drove me crazy.

  Willow stiffened, and pulled back. She stared at her shoes. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because …” She switched and started staring at the ceiling instead. “Because I’m so confused. I know I should be afraid of you, but I’m just not. And when we’re together, there’s this feeling … like I don’t want to let you go. It’s weird.”