Wedding the Wolf: A wolf shifter paranormal romance

by Steffanie Holmes

  The bond. I ken I should explain about fated mates, but her face was so stricken, I couldn’t bring myself to give her any more cause for fear. She came here, where she ken all the Lowe pack would be, and that is a huge step. Monumental.

  Willow shrugged. “It’s fine. It’s not a big deal. He was probably just drunk. We should go out there and socialise.”

  “Come home with me.”

  Her eyes widened. “What?”

  “If there’s some guy hanging out at your place, you cannae go back there. I think you should come home with me tonight. Did you see his face? Should I take you to the police?”

  Willow shook her head. “Yeah, I saw him, but it doesn’t matter. It’s probably nothing—”

  “You dinnae ken that.” I squeezed her hand. “If you’re scared, then it’s a big deal. You shouldn’t have to be afraid at your own flat. Come home with me. I’ve got a cabin out in the forest. No creepy stalkers for miles around. I’ll protect you, I promise.”

  “You don’t even know me. Why would you offer that?”

  I searched for the words. “Because you’ve dealt with enough. You deserve not to be scared. Now, come on.” I yanked her toward the door.

  Willow shook her head, more vehemently this time. “No, I don’t want to leave. It took a lot of guts for me to be here tonight. I’m not leaving just because of this.”

  “So what do you want to do?”

  “I want to have a drink with you and your friends.” Willow set her mouth in a determined line. “I want to chat and laugh like a normal person.”

  I dared a grin as I ran my finger over her knuckle. “And what about after? Where will you be sleeping tonight?”

  Her cheeks reddened, and she bit her lip. Damn, but she was driving me crazy already. “I … I have to think about it.”

  I linked my fingers in hers, and pulled her toward the door. “While you think, let me provide you with a list of my most winning attributes. Get ready to take notes, because it’s a long list.”

  * * *

  Willow sat next to me at our big table. Apart from a boring conversation with Elinor and Alex about wedding dresses, we pretty much ignored everyone else. I supplied Willow with an endless stream of Lemon, Lime and Bitters, and she provided me with endless radiant smiles and adorable breathy laughter.

  We found so much to talk about. I hadn’t felt this instantly comfortable around someone since my father was alive. We loved the same films, books, and TV shows. I told her stories about living in Aberdeen, and she did an impression of her crotchety history professor from university. Every word out of her mouth made me fall deeper for her.

  After the first half hour, the tension in Willow’s shoulders fell away. She smiled and drank and talked and teased, and only stuttered a little when one of the others asked her a direct question. Her brown eyes sparkled with so much joy. Caleb said something ridiculous, and Willow tilted her head back and laughed with her whole body, and I had to dig my fingers into my thighs to resist the urge to pull her against me and assault her mouth with mine.

  Who would've thought that just sitting at the pub would bring someone so much joy? Willow Summers was a total mystery – a mystery I wanted to unravel.

  Time passed too quickly, and before I ken it, the others had left, and Willow and I were the only two at the table. After I plonked down another drink in front of her, Willow reached across and squeezed my hand. “I haven’t had this much fun in years.”

  “Even surrounded by all these monsters?”

  She nodded. “Everyone’s nice. I am glad I trusted you.”

  “You should always be able to trust me, Willow Summers.”

  She looked thoughtful. “I barely know you.”

  “Aye. That’s why we’re having drinks. It’s how we get to ken each other. Well,” I raised my pint to my lips, “I can think of some other ways.”

  Willow’s cheeks reddened, and she stared down at her lap. Her fingers tightened against mine. “Um …”

  She bit her lip.

  My cock strained against my jeans. I’d been hard since my third drink, but now I was practically throbbing. Every touch between us was driving me crazy. The connection sizzled around us, the tension in the air so thick, everyone in the room must’ve sensed it.

  But now our friends were gone, which meant I could ask the question that had been nagging at me since the wedding. “Willow, how did you ken I was a werewolf?”

  “I … I guessed. You’re friends with Robbie and he’s a werewolf, so it just makes sense. Werewolves and humans don’t tend to mingle.”

  “You didnae guess. You should’ve never ken Robbie was a wolf, either. Go on, you might as well tell me.”

  “Um …” Her eyes darted around the room. “You can’t tell the others.”

  “I promise.” I placed my hand over my heart.

  “You’re going to think it’s weird …”

  “I’m a werewolf. I think I can handle it.”

  “Right … yes … well, um, I can smell you. Not that you stink or anything,” she said quickly. “You have this woody, heady scent … all werewolves do. When I smell it, I know someone’s a werewolf.”

  “Can you smell non-werewolf shifters, or only wolves?”

  Willow’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. “There are non-wolf shifters?”

  “Of course. Foxes, lions, tigers, even some domestic cats. In America and Russia, there are a lot of bear shifters. I even met a squirrel shifter once. They’re not tied to the moon like we are, but some species have their own unique conditions.” I thought of Cole, who was a Bran – a raven-shifter whose species primarily served as slaves and messengers to human masters. Luckily, Cole had been freed thanks to his woman, Belinda, and members of the Lowe pack.

  “What do you mean, tied to the moon?”

  “All shifters can control when we transform into animals. When we’re in our animal form, we’re still us inside. We can still think and remember and make decisions as a human. But during the full moon, we werewolves transform whether we want to or not. It’s a different kind of shift – we lose our base layer of human reasoning. We’re dangerous to be around, so we usually head into the forest. It means that in a few days’ time, you’re going to have to do without my charms while I’m out communing with nature.”

  She smiled. “I think I can manage. I’ve got my Rabbit.”

  At the thought of her playing with a vibrator, my cock hardened. “Willow Summers, if that’s you flirting, I warn that you could do some serious damage to a man.”

  She bit her lip, and that adorable flush reddened her cheeks once more. “So … um, what does it feel like? Being a wolf during the full moon, I mean. You said it was different.”

  “Aye. The whole world narrows, and all deeper concerns fade away. Everything becomes instinctual – we operate out of animal desires to find food, dominate our territory, and protect our mates.”

  “Mates?” Her tone was sharp.

  “Most shapeshifter genes pass through the male line. We find our partners – called mates – among humans. Like Robbie and Bianca, well, sort of.”

  “And Alex and Ryan?” Willow’s face flashed with recognition. “She said that word at our meeting the other day, but I’ve never smelt the wolf scent on him.”

  “Good guess. He’s a vulpine – that’s a fox shifter.”

  “Oh. I never knew there were … special names.”

  “Now you do. Dinnae go spreading it around.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.” She made a zipping motion across her lips. “I’m good at keeping secrets.”

  That makes two of us, I thought, but didn’t say. Instead I gestured to her empty glass. “Another Lemon, Lime and Bitters?”

  Willow shook her head. “That’s probably enough sugar for me tonight. I’ll stick with water, thanks.”

  “Aye, a real party girl.”

  She tossed her hair over her shoulder, a flirtatious smile playing across her lips. “I am tonight.�
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  My lips tingled at the idea of kissing her long, elegant neck. My cock stirred as I thought of what I wanted to do to her. But I still had questions, and she was clearly feeling like talking. “So you really cannae smell non-werewolf shifters?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t see many shifters in their animal forms, just as humans.” She looked away again. “You’re looking at me like I’m a freak.”

  “You’re nae even remotely a freak. It’s odd, is all. I’ve nae heard of a human being able to discern this werewolf ‘scent’ before.”

  She shrugged. “My father was a werewolf, so maybe I inherited some kind of gene from him that’s extra sensitive to these things.”

  “Your father was a werewolf?”

  “Yeah. He was the one who …” Willow flicked her wrist toward her legs.

  Realisation dawned on me. “Shite. Your father was the one who attacked you?” Rage boiled inside me. The idea that someone who was supposed to protect Willow would be the one to do that to her …

  “It’s fine.” Willow pulled a strand of hair in front of her face. She didn’t look fine, but I wasn’t about to argue with her. “I was very young, so I don’t really remember him, or the attack. I don’t even really remember having a leg.”

  “Is he still alive?” Did someone tear his throat out for doing that to you? If a wolf in my pack had done that to his own daughter, he’d be lucky to escape with his manhood intact.

  “I don’t know. He ran away, didn’t he? My mother went to the police but all they did was search the neighbourhood for some rabid dog.”

  “What about his pack?” Most wolf packs had some kind of crude justice system of code of honour to prevent these kinds of things happening.

  “I don’t think he had one.”

  “But every werewolf lives in a pack. Your mother must’ve been pursued by other wolves looking for a mate—”

  Willow made a weird snorting noise. “No werewolf would dare go after my mother, trust me. Look, I was only three when it happened, and I haven’t seen my father since and I really, really don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Is that why you dinnae want anyone to know about your leg?”

  “I just … I’m not ready for that. You understand, right? Some things just need to stay secret. It’s like you, with … what you are. You had to adapt to living in the human world, and keep your identity a secret, because to be public with it would bring you no end of trouble. Which is good, because if shifters were in the open, I’d have to go somewhere far away. So I get it. I don’t want people to know about that,” she jabbed her thumb at her leg again, “because it’s brought me nothing but trouble.”

  Shite. Okay, this just got more complicated. Willow had no idea that I was working with the Lowes to reveal the existence of shifters. I wanted desperately to explain everything that was going on, but the stricken look on her face told me this was not something she wanted to hear.

  It’s probably also not a good time to mention the whole fated mates thing. Perhaps it was better to keep that to myself for now. Time to move back to a safer and much less complicated topic of conversation: flirting.

  “Um … yeah, sure.” I shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “A secret it is.”

  She bit her lip. “Thanks, Irvine.”

  I leaned in close to her, my breath just dancing over her ear. “Do you ken how fucking crazy you make me when you bite your lip like that?”

  Willow’s breath caught, and she bit her lip harder. She didn’t move away. I ken she wouldn’t flirt back, not yet, so I went for the direct approach.

  “Let me take you home, Willow Summers. I’ll ravish your body until you forget all about stalkers and werewolves and secrets.”

  “I—”

  I stroked her hand. “What say ye?”

  Willow slid her hand out of mine, and clutched it in her lap. Her body tensed. “You should know something,” she whispered. “You’re wasting your time on me. I don’t have a lot of experience with guys.”

  “You are many things, Willow Summers, but you are nae a waste of time.”

  She shook her head, staring down at her hands. Her face was red. “No, I don’t think you understand. I mean that I have no experience with guys. With … sex.”

  I growled low in my throat. A virgin. Willow seemed to think it was a bad thing. Little did she ken the thought drove me even more wild for her. To be the first person inside her, to be the first to touch her the way she deserved to be touched, the first to make her come, the first name she screamed in ecstasy …

  “Do you want to change that?” I whispered, flicking my tongue on the edge of her earlobe. She shuddered.

  “I don’t know.” She glanced up at me then, and I saw the battle in her eyes – her emotions torn between her fear and her desire. “I need to think, but it’s so … you’re so …”

  “The offer is still open. Come back to my place.”

  “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

  “That’s fine. If you’re not ready, then you’re not ready.”

  “You wouldn’t …”

  “Dinnae even ask that question. I’d never force you to do anything that made you uncomfortable. I make no secret that I want you, Willow Summers. I want to taste every inch of you. I want to feel your hips tighten around me as you come on my face. But I winnae lay a finger on you until you’re ready, until you’re begging for it. Anything else is unacceptable. But I still think you should come home with me.”

  “But—”

  “That guy who followed you could still be waiting for you. He kens where you live, and the security on Bianca’s building is shite. Come back with me and I’ll keep you safe. We dinnae even have to share a bed.” I kissed her earlobe again, loving the way her lips parted as she gasped.

  “Irvine—” she moaned.

  I kissed a trail down her neck, savouring the sweetness of her skin. My cock ached with need of her. I had a distinct feeling that even if she said yes, I was going to end up with blue balls, but I wanted her to feel safe. I wanted her to trust me.

  Willow gulped, wringing her hands together. “Yes,” she whispered. “Let’s go.”

  9

  Willow

  I can’t believe I’m doing this.

  I was still trembling as Irvine led me on the moonlit path through the forest to his cabin, but not from the cool night air. I can’t believe I’d told him that. I kept waiting for him to laugh at me. A 23-year-old virgin. It’s pretty damn laughable.

  Instead, he seemed to find my virginity attractive. What he’d said to me … I want to taste every inch of you. I want to feel your hips tighten around me as you come on my face … I replayed them over and over in my mind as I walked. My whole body was rigid with tension, and an ache rose inside of me that cried out to be sated by him. Irvine’s fingers in mine burned against my skin.

  “Here we are.” Irvine gestured to a clearing ahead of us, where a small wooden cabin sat nestled amongst the trees. It was gorgeous, made of rough, round logs, with a gabled roof and wide porch running around two sides. Irvine steadied me while I climbed the steps, then he let me inside.

  The cabin was small, containing only a small kitchen to the left of the door, with one long bench against the wall and a small table in front. Behind that was a bed covered with navy sheets and a fur blanket. A tall stack of books stood on a small wooden stool beside the bed. In the far corner, a single overstuffed chair sat in front of a pot-belly stove, with a basket of wood all cut up next to it.

  It was comfortable and cosy, but rugged and masculine – perfect for Irvine.

  Irvine gestured to the bed. “You can have the bed. Do you want a drink?”

  “Tea,” I said automatically, my mind reeling.

  He wasn’t kidding. He really wasn’t going to try anything. A wave of disappointment surged through me. It was odd, almost as if I wanted him to push me, to take the intensity of the decision away from me. This is totally nuts.

  I was totally nuts,
not least of all because I was alone, in the middle of the forest, with a werewolf. Mum’s voice echoed in my ears. Run away. Run as fast as you can.

  But I didn’t want to run. I trusted Irvine. I saw only genuine concern for me in his eyes. That, and hunger. But it wasn’t hunger for fresh meat, it was hunger for my body. And it mirrored my hunger for his.

  Carol Winters might’ve run crying back to Mummy, but Willow Summers knew what she wanted.

  Irvine puttered in the kitchen, filling the kettle and setting out cups and tea bags. Instead of setting the kettle on his hotplate, he knelt down in front of the stove and built a fire. In a few moments, he had a blaze going, and he shut the door, placing the kettle on top.

  I sat down on the edge of the bed, painfully aware that this was where Irvine slept. His naked body had been between these sheets. He might have even taken other woman back to this cabin, woman with perfect bodies and two functioning legs who knew how …

  I want to feel your hips tighten around me as you come on my face.

  I squeezed my legs together, trying to force down the ache inside me. But it only flared worse than ever.

  Irvine handed me a hot mug of tea, and I wrapped my fingers around it, grateful to have something to focus on other than the way his broad shoulders pulled against the fabric of his t-shirt, or how his intricate tattoos wound around his forearms. I imagined what it would feel like to have that body pressed against mine, skin to skin.

  I gulped down my tea, unable to take my eyes off him. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I held back. As much as I wanted him, I wasn’t ready. And the guy tonight, running after me and yelling like that, was still fresh in my mind.

  “You finished your tea?” Irvine asked, his voice gruff. I nodded. He leaned over and took my cup from his hands, and before I realised what was happening, his lips were on mine. This kiss fired up my whole body, sending a shiver of electricity that fed the ache growing inside me.

  He kissed me harder, his lips and tongue a force of nature. I drowned in that kiss, sinking deeper.