Wedding the Wolf: A wolf shifter paranormal romance

by Steffanie Holmes

  “Could be. Whoever he is, he could be staking out your place, waiting to get you alone. You need to come back to the cabin. You’re staying the night.”

  A panicked look broke out on Willow’s face. “But … I have things to do.”

  I folded my arms. “We can do them together. I promised you that I wouldnae let you out of my sight.”

  “But—” Willow seemed ready to protest. Her mouth moved, but no words came out. I ken it. There’s some secret she’s not telling me. Even if she doesn’t ken who this guy is, she at least has an idea now of where to find out.

  “No arguments.” I stood up, throwing Willow back onto my shoulders. She yelped in protest as I started off toward the forest.

  “Irvine, wait! Put me down! Why can’t we stay at my place?”

  “You live in the village. If someone attacks you, I cannae shift into my wolf form with so many people around. We need to be in the forest.”

  “You promised you wouldn’t shift into your wolf form in front of me. This wasn’t part of the bargain—ow!” Willow jerked as a branch scraped across her back. “I said, put me down this instant.”

  “Careful. I dinnae want to drop you.” Willow stopped squirming after that, and I managed to get her back to the cabin without any more protests. I expected her to try to leave as soon as I put her down, but all she did was slump against the bed and remove her prosthesis, a grave expression marring her beautiful face. I think she’d realised that I was right.

  I made a fire in the tiny potbelly stove and and moved the two chairs in front of it. Willow curled up in one with a blanket around her shoulders, her stump propped up on the stool I used beside the bed. I grabbed a block of dark chocolate from the fridge and made a pot of bubbling hot chocolate on top of the stove, adding a little chilli for a real kick.

  The discovery of our peeper had killed the sexual tension, but the connection still thrummed between us. I pulled my chair closer, and as I handed Willow a mug of hot chocolate, my hand brushed hers and the now familiar jolt of electricity shot up my arm. The moonlight through the window framed her dark hair in a halo of cold light, and the firelight flickered across her face,

  My mate. My beautiful, brave, clever, shy mate. What are you hiding? What secrets lurk in your past?

  Willow was the first to break the silence. “Hey, Irvine.”

  “Aye?”

  “Why are you here?” Willow sipped her chocolate.

  I shrugged. “Why are any of us here? That seems an awfully deep question to surprise a man with after he’s just given you a chocolatey treat.”

  Willow laughed, the sound like a rushing stream. “No, I mean, why are you in Crookshollow with Caleb and his crew? You must have a pack somewhere else.”

  “Aye, my pack, the Bairds, is back in Aberdeen. I’ve placed a wolf I trust as the new alpha there. What I’m doing here with Caleb is something that’s going to make life better for all shifters. It’s something I’ve believed in for many years, but Caleb is the only one who will be able to make it happen. It’s important to me that we achieve what we set out to do, see it through to the end.”

  “And what is that?”

  I studied Willow’s face, searching for a sign that she might be receptive to our mission. I glanced over at her stump resting on the stool, and the force of her loss crashed against my desire to be truthful. The urge to tell her dried my tongue in my throat. You can’t do it. She will never understand, never accept that it would be better for everyone if shifters were known. And can you blame her after her own father took her leg from her?

  “I cannae tell you, I’m sorry.”

  “Fair enough.” Willow rearranged the blanket, pulling it further back from her stump and exposing her bare skin to the fire. I fixated again on her limb, on how the skin had knitted itself together over the amputation, a single long scar the only sign that something traumatic had happened to her. The body healed the damage of the past.

  I pictured Willow as a little girl, her brown curls tied up in pigtails with white ribbons. Her bright eyes sparkling as she played some kind of game. I tried to imagine the kind of monster that could see this girl and want to hurt her in such a way, but it just seemed impossible.

  Surely thinking like a monster would come naturally to you.

  “Oh.” Willow’s face flashed with heat. She hurriedly replaced the blanket over her leg.

  “Why’d you do that? You were getting hot.”

  “You don’t want to look at it.”

  “I didnae say that. I see it all the time.”

  “That’s different. In the heat of the moment, you can forget about it. But no one wants to look at a broken person. It’s fine.” She blinked. “I’m used to it.”

  “You shouldnae have to be used to it, because there’s nae a ring of truth to it. You’re nae broken, like some toy on the shelf for repair. You dinnae need to be fixed, Willow Summers. And if there’s one thing I hope you get out of this arrangement of ours, it’s the ken that you’re beautiful not in spite of this leg, but because of it. Because it’s a part of you, and therefore is beautiful.”

  Willow glanced away, but not before I saw a tear roll down her cheek. “This is really good hot chocolate,” she said, finally, keeping her face turned away as she raised the mug to her lips. “I love the chilli.”

  Right, so we were done talking about her, then. “Aye. My father used to make it like this all the time. He spent quite a bit of time in South America—”

  “On business?”

  I guess overseeing the illegal import of cocaine is considered business. “In a manner of speaking. Anyway,” I raised my own mug to my lips, “he had a huge sweet tooth, and he couldnae hardly go a day without chocolate, which meant we spent many a night cooking mugs of this over our campfire.”

  “Where is your father now?”

  I paused before taking another sip. My hand went to my throat, closing around the coin he’d given me as a good luck charm. Careful. Don’t say anything to give away the truth. “He’s dead.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Willow still faced the wall, but she snaked her hand over to my lap and squeezed my thigh. “What happened? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

  “I found his body in part of the forest owned by the local manor. It was the full moon, and he was in his wolf form. From the looks of things, he’d killed a baby deer – one of the manor’s herd. I found its carcass beside him. The gamekeeper must’ve seen him. He had put a bullet right through his neck.”

  That part at least was true. The memory of staring down into Pa’s eyes as they glassed over threatened to surface again, but I pushed it down. It wouldn’t do to get caught up in the past with Willow here.

  Willow whipped her head around, her dark eyes burning into mine. “A gamekeeper shot a wolf? How did that not end up in the news?”

  Shit. I was an idiot. “We talked him out of it. He’s keeping our secret.”

  The lie tasted bitter on my tongue. I set down my hot chocolate. I no longer had the stomach for it.

  Later, after the fire had wound down, we crawled into bed, our bodies twisted around each other. With one less limb to tangle together, we fit against each other in the tiny bed perfectly. Willow curled into my armpit, and a few minutes later, she was fast asleep.

  My eyes remained open, trained on the window. A hundred thoughts whirled through my head. Who was the mysterious man who was watching us? Was it the same guy from outside the shop, or was it just a coincidence? Why was he after Willow, and was he just content to watch her or did he have something more sinister in mind? How would I keep Willow safe if she discovered the truth about what I have done, and what I was planning on doing? Because of our agreement, she was starting to open up and realise that shifters could be more than violent monsters.

  Yet here she was, in bed with the greatest monster of them all.

  25

  Willow

  Dappled sunlight streamed across my face, and a delicious smell of cooked eggs
wafted under my nose. I rolled over, expecting to feel my threadbare charity shop sheets under my fingers, and see my open suitcase of work-appropriate clothing in the corner of Bianca’s old flat.

  But no, I wasn’t in my own bed. Once again, I was in Irvine’s cabin. And there he was in the kitchen, frying eggs and sausages in his electric frying pan. He wore only a pair of blue jeans, and my heart thudded in my chest as I admired the sculpted curve of his shoulders and the colourful tattoos entwining his muscles. His face broke into a grin when he noticed I was awake, and my whole body tingled.

  In a flash, the events of last night rushed back to me. The man outside, watching us, and the strange medallion he left behind. Fear clutched at me as I remembered that I’d have to figure out a way to call my mum while Irvine was out of earshot, and it would have to be soon, because I was due to meet Alex and I couldn’t exactly talk to Mum with her around, either.

  If Irvine or the pack finds out the truth about Mum and me, then all this is over.

  Irvine held a heaped plate of food in front of me. “You slept well. I dinnae think an earthquake could’ve woken you.”

  “I had a comfortable pillow,” I said, as I accepted the plate. Just the sight of all that food, lovingly cooked for me by my mate, whom I had deceived, turned my stomach.

  Irvine winced as he rolled his shoulder. “Don’t I ken it. What do you have on today?”

  “I have a meeting with Alex. We’re going wedding dress shopping.” I fixed him with what I hoped was a withering stare. “And I don’t want to hear any ‘I’ve sworn to protect you’ nonsense. You can’t come with us. This is strictly girls only.”

  Irvine made a face, indicating exactly what he thought of that. “I dinnae want to leave you alone today.”

  “I’ll be fine. This guy won’t do anything in public, and besides, Simon will be driving us. I’ll get him to stay close to us and keep an eye out for anything unusual. No stalker will escape that butler’s eagle eyes.”

  “I need to speak with Caleb and the rest of the pack about our stalker.” Irvine must’ve noticed my face, because he held up a hand. “Dinnae concern yourself. I’m nae telling them anything about us, but I need to find out more about that medallion and definitively rule out if this is related to our current mission. But I could ask Ryan to go with you, as well. I’d feel better if I ken there was a shifter with you—”

  “No way. You’re so clueless. We’re going wedding dress shopping. Ryan can’t see Alex in her dress before the wedding. That’s not how things work. Please don’t worry. We’re going to the salons and for lunch at Bewitching Bites – we’ll be out in public the whole time. He’s not going to try anything.”

  Irvine’s face remained stony. “Fine, but I am giving you additional protection.”

  “I said no! I can’t wander around town with a werewolf on my tail.”

  “Dinnae worry, I ken about discretion.” Irvine took my empty plate and rinsed it. “You won’t even ken this guy’s there. Come on, grab your leg, you dinnae want to be late.”

  Great. When am I going to get a chance to call Mum with both Alex and some werewolf watching me? But I couldn’t exactly say that to Irvine.

  Irvine wanted to drive me back into the village in his car, but I pointed out that I’d need my car for getting around. “I can’t exactly drive your car,” I pointed out. Grudgingly, Irvine climbed into the passenger seat of my tiny Fiat. Even with the seat pushed all the way back, his long legs pressed tight against the dashboard.

  “You need a bigger car,” he grumbled as I pulled out onto the gravel road, and his head bumped against the roof.

  “You need a smaller body,” I shot back.

  I drove over to Raynard Hall, and let Irvine out at the beginning of the street, so no one at the house could see us together. He waved at me as I drove off.

  As I stopped to wait for the gates to swing open, I watched him in the rearview mirror, scanning the houses on both sides of the street, searching for any sign of the guy. My heart thudded. He doesn’t have to keep this secret, but he is. He respects what I ask of him, like a mate should.

  At the thought of the word mate, my heart beat faster. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the ridiculous juvenile thoughts. Don’t get attached. When he finds out who you really are, he won’t want to stick around. This whole fantasy will be over, so enjoy it while it lasts.

  Finally, the gates created open wide enough for me to drive through. Alex was waiting on the steps when I pulled up. She looked gorgeous in a long, flowing maxi dress printed with bright birds of paradise, her makeup perfect and not a hair out of place. A genuine smile broke out across her face as she ran toward my car. Before I could stop her, she’d slid into the passenger seat.

  “Hey, we’re not taking this car—” My voice rose with panic, and I tried to position my body to hide the lever from Alex’s view.

  She waved a hand. “Oh, I’m sick of being stuck in a car with stuffy old Simon. Come on, let’s make this a girl’s day out. I’m ready to do some serious damage to my credit card.” Alex tossed her purse on the floor, and reached down to adjust the seat. “Yikes. Someone enormous has been in this seat. It’s like sitting in a crater. Who’s the lucky guy, then?”

  A hot flush flared across my cheeks, and my fingers gripped the wheel tight. “No one. There’s no guy.”

  “Come on, Willow.” Alex shimmied around in the seat. “I’m no fool. This is not normal. The seat even feels a little warm, as though someone was just here. It was Irvine, wasn’t it? Go on, you can tell me.”

  My cheeks burned harder. “No, it’s just some guy. You wouldn’t know him.”

  “Some guy named Irvine?” Alex beamed.

  “Please, I nearly had an accident coming over here, I’d really prefer it if Simon drove us.”

  I expected Alex to protest, but instead she made a pouty face. “Fine. Come on, then.”

  Grateful to have escaped any questions about my car, I happily slumped into the backseat of Alex’s Alfa Romeo. Irvine trudged past heading up to the house while I was waiting for Alex to find Simon. He gave me a wink, but didn’t come over, which I appreciated.

  With Simon finally behind the wheel, we drove out of Crookshollow to our first stop – an upmarket bridal salon in the larger nearby town of Crooks Crossing. We parked up and Simon opened his newspaper. I trailed behind Alex as she skipped toward the door, trying to hide my stiff gait from her notice. Just as Alex grabbed for the door handle, a black shape dropped from the sky in front of us. I screamed and jerked back. The shape swooped right in front of the window and settled on top of the rubbish bin.

  To my surprise and horror, I realised it was an enormous raven. I shuffled further away, not wanting it to peck me and give me a disease. But grinning, Alex simply reached down and patted the bird’s head. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, you stupid git.”

  “Don’t touch it! Birds can communicate disease.” I gave Alex a gentle shove toward the door.

  Alex looked like she was going to say something, but she must’ve realised I had a point. She stood up, gave the bird a little wave, and muttered something under her breath that sounded something like, “Hi, Cole.”

  Cole? That was the same name as Belinda’s fiancé, the black-haired man from Bewitching Bites. With a start, I realised what was going on. This wasn’t an ordinary bird. It was a shifter. Cole was a shifter. So this is what Irvine meant by watching us. He’d sent a raven to spy on me. A raven I’d drank with at the pub.

  I sucked in a breath, willing my heart rate to return to normal. I can handle this. At least if Cole is here, it means Alex and I should be safe if the stalker decides to show up.

  Just thinking about that guy in the bushes last night made my chest tighten in fear. I needed to call Mum, but I couldn’t do it in front of Irvine or Alex and alert them to who she was. I decided to send her a text while Alex was in the dressing room.

  I took a wide berth around the bird as I entered the shop. When I tur
ned and looked back out the window, the bird was still sitting on the rubbish bin. It met my eyes with its two yellow orbs, and winked. The bloody raven winked at me.

  I tried to push back the fear and focus on the task ahead of me – finding Alex her fairytale wedding dress. It certainly looked like we’d come to the right place. Racks of dresses lined the walls of the shop, their enormous ruffled and gathered skirts spilling out into the narrow aisle. I felt the familiar rush of joy at being in a bridal salon.

  This was my favourite part of the job, helping the bride find her outfit. Academically, I knew a wedding dress didn’t possess any magical abilities, but when a bride put on their dress, they transformed before my eyes. Suddenly, they weren’t just Alice the accountant or Caitlin the B-level celebrity or Lady Henrietta the snobby woman with the obnoxious purse dog, but someone special and magical and blessed – a bride. A woman who was loved. A woman who had romance in her life, and was going to have her happily ever after.

  I pushed through the racks, running my hands over the soft, silky fabrics and delicate beading, keeping my eyes peeled for something that would suit Alex. A large woman wearing a swirling dress covered in garish daisies bustled toward us. I wondered what the raven would make of her enormous hat covered in tiny stuffed birds.

  “Ah, so there’s my next appointment. Forgive me ladies, I was out the back tending to the alterations and I didn’t hear the bell. Now, which one of you is the bride-to-be?” she gushed. Alex raised her hand shyly, and was greeted with a hug so intense, I swear I heard her ribcage crack.

  “Oh, it’s so delightful to meet you! I am Marsha Babcock, and if you have any other dress appointments today, you can go on and cancel them now, because your perfect dress is right here in this room. Now,” she yanked Alex’s arms out to the sides and twirled her around in front of three mirrors, “tell me about this wedding of yours.”

  Alex glanced at me and mouthed the word help.

  “The theme is ‘an enchanted forest’,” I said. “Alex and her fiancé are both artists who deal with nature and fantastical themes, so we’re incorporating that into the theme. Guests will walk through an avenue of ancient oaks, decorated with glittering lanterns. They’ll be seated in a half circle around an arch made of branches and herbs and flowers. We want everything to feel natural and organic and flowing, and—”