Forbidden Shifters Complete Series (Books 1-6): A Wolf Shifter Paranormal Romance

by Selena Scott

  “Oh.” She immediately dropped her hands out of surprise. He stood there, shirtless still, his new shirt in one hand, his dark eyes boring into her. The second he realized that she was looking at him, he tilted his body away from her, hiding his left side. She didn’t sense shame there, it was truly like he didn’t want to scare her again.

  “No,” she said softly, rising to her feet. “Your scars aren’t scary to me at all. Honestly, I didn’t even notice them.”

  I was too busy staring at your monster cock.

  She hoped he didn’t notice her pink cheeks.

  “Oh.” He didn’t look like he understood, but he said nothing as he slipped the shirt on over his head and smoothed the fabric.

  “Do you like the clothes?” she asked after the quietness between them had started to get awkward.

  “Yes. They’re soft. And not ridiculous colors.”

  “Good. It’s custom to say thank you after someone has given you a gift.”

  “Thank you,” he said absently, obediently, as he turned the pockets of his pants inside out, inspecting them.

  Well, they’d work more on eye contact during thank yous later. For now, she’d take what she could get.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Phoenix stayed quiet as she drove him a few neighborhoods away. In his opinion, Portland required too much time in the car. Everything was so far apart. He wondered how much harder it was to ride a freestanding bike than an exercise bike at physical therapy. He didn’t think he’d ever want a car. No. He wanted to feel the wind.

  He didn’t ask where she was taking him because frankly, he didn’t care. He didn’t want to spend time at his shithole of a room and he didn’t want to be in public. Also, he didn’t really like being in her car. He figured their options were limited and the less he argued the faster it would all be done with.

  She pulled up to a very tall, skinny house that reminded Phoenix of the fancy cakes he’d recently seen in the front window of a bakery. The whole thing was peachy in color with white curlicues lining every edge. There was a sign hanging out front and Phoenix knew that meant it was a place of business, not someone’s home. Though, with his inability to read, the sign offered him no more information than that.

  “You’re gonna love this, I swear,” Ida promised as she led him up the rocky path toward the front door.

  He suspected she was picking her way over the rocks so carefully in order to show him the best path for his crutches to take without appearing as if she were showing him. Smart lady.

  He made it up the stairs just after she did and just in time to see a very tall, very thin woman with purple, spiky hair throw open the door.

  “Wren!” Ida tossed her arms around the woman and the woman hugged her back just as fiercely. “Thanks for seeing us so last minute.”

  “It’s not a big deal, sis.” The woman cocked her hip out and narrowed her eyes, her gaze glancing up and down Phoenix’s body.

  “You’re the troublemaker, I presume?” she said, her large eyes naturally half-lidded. She had the kind of face that looked like she was in the middle of laughing at a joke you’d never get.

  Not only did Phoenix not understand whatever the joke was, he also didn’t understand the question she’d asked. He looked at Ida.

  “Play nice,” Ida instructed the woman. “Phoenix, meet my best friend, Wren Suede. Wren, meet Phoenix Wolf.”

  “Wolf,” she said drily. “How original.”

  “I didn’t choose it,” Phoenix said. He was telling the truth. He’d almost burned alive in a forest fire and opened his eyes thirteen days later to find that he was in human form in a human hospital and someone had given him a human last name. Not a lot to be done about that.

  Wren shifted forward and Phoenix caught her scent. His awareness flared. “What kind of shifter are you?” he asked.

  She eyed him for a moment, as if momentarily surprised that he’d sensed that. “Raven.”

  Ravens and wolves had no animosity toward one another in the wild, though they were both occasionally known for scavenging the same foods. Either way, despite the strange color of her hair, Phoenix decided she posed no threat to him. “Are we going inside?” he asked Ida.

  “Yes.” She bustled him in and when he got there, he had no more answers than when he’d stood out on the porch. He was standing in a room with a bunch of mirrors and complicated looking chairs in front of each mirror. It was synthetically bright in there and there were all sorts of sharp looking instruments in cups.

  “Nope,” he decided instantly, turning away from the room and headed back toward the front door.

  He heard Wren laugh but it was Ida who got in his way. “What do you mean ‘nope’?”

  “I mean there’s too many sharp objects for me to be in here.”

  “Sharp …” she trailed off. “Those aren’t weapons! They’re just for cutting hair!”

  He blinked at her.

  “Wren is a hair stylist. She’s just going to wash and cut your hair, and your beard if you want it.”

  “A hair stylist.”

  “She does people’s hair for a living.”

  “Why would I ever want my hair to look like that?” He pointed candidly at Wren’s purple spikes. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized that they were probably rude. But thankfully, Wren just laughed and walked over to lean against Ida.

  Phoenix cocked his head as he watched the purple haired woman drape herself over Ida’s shoulders in a way that both women were obviously comfortable and familiar with.

  “I don’t give all my clients purple hair, dummy. I can do anything you want. I cut Ida’s hair.” She tugged lightly at the ends of Ida’s red hair and for some reason, Phoenix didn’t resist the impulse to do the same thing. Watching someone else touch Ida made him want to touch Ida. He leaned forward and tugged at her hair the same way that Wren had. It was softer than his own hair, the ends slightly tickly.

  He dropped his hand. “They gave me a haircut at the shelter a few months ago. After the hospital.”

  “I don’t imagine that was a very pleasant experience,” Wren said drily. “Let me guess, they forced you into a chair, didn’t give you any choice and then shaved you bald?”

  Pretty much. Yeah. That had been exactly what had happened. He’d been in too much pain and still too weak from his recovery to do much protesting. He’d left feeling humiliated. He didn’t like thinking about it now. He shrugged.

  “Well, I promise I won’t do anything like that to you. If you want your hair to be long, I’ll just clean it up a little on the sides and straighten out your beard. I’ll be gentle and it won’t take long.”

  Wren stepped forward and held out her hand for a shake. Phoenix paused, but then leaned forward and shook her hand. She had a nice, firm grip and he didn’t sense danger from her, but he still didn’t like the contact. He wasn’t used to touching in his human form. In his wolf form, he could butt his head against her, sniff her. If they got to know one another well enough, he wouldn’t even have a problem sleeping next to her for warmth. But human touching still felt foreign to him.

  Touching Wren didn’t feel anything like it had felt to have Ida tucked under his arm on the stairs. Or touching the ends of Ida’s hair.

  He frowned. Would this ever get less confusing? He doubted it.

  “It will really be all right,” Ida reassured him. “People do this all the time. And I chose Wren to help us because she makes it a really enjoyable experience. Seriously, this is one of those pleasurable human experiences I was telling you about. This is something you might actually like about being human.”

  He highly doubted that as well, but to refuse right now would be tantamount to admitting he was afraid of the purple haired woman. And he wasn’t. Not really. He was afraid of being human, if anything, and it was a fear he was determined to overcome.

  “Fine. Where do we start.”

  “We’ll wash your hair first.” Wren beckoned him over to a seat that leaned back
into a sink. He blinked at it, certain that he was seeing things. There was no way that she wanted him to lean back like that.

  “You want me to lean back, expose my throat, and let you wash my hair.” He let his eyes go dead as he looked back and forth between the two women.

  For some reason, both women burst out laughing. “Well, I’ve never thought about it that way before, but yeah. I guess so.” Wren put her hands on her hips and thought for a second. “The washing part doesn’t necessarily require a professional. Would you be more comfortable with Ida washing your hair and I’ll sit across the room where you can keep an eye on me?”

  “But I’m no good at it!” Ida said to Wren. “You’re the one with the magic fingers. The whole reason I brought him here was so that he could experience how good all this feels.”

  “If he’s not comfortable with me touching him then he’s not going to have a good time no matter how talented my hands are.” She turned to look back at Phoenix with an eyebrow raised. “And trust me, I’m talented. But Ida can make it feel good, too.”

  Ida bit her bottom lip as she looked at him. She wore some sort of color on her lips today and it annoyed Phoenix because it made him look at her mouth over and over again. And every time he looked at her mouth, he thought of Watt kissing that mouth. He wondered if her mouth tasted the way that pink candy had tasted.

  “What do you think?” she asked him quietly. “We can leave if this is all too much for you.”

  For a moment he considered taking the out. But then he really registered the look on her face. She’d be disappointed if they left. And not in him. In herself. She’d gone shopping for him because he’d said he didn’t want to. She’d arranged for him to be at this hair cutting place when no one else was here. Obviously there were ten other seats for ten other customers, which meant that he was here at a special time when he could be alone. The least he could do was try.

  “No. It’s fine. I’ll stay.” His eyes flicked back and forth between Ida and Raven. “You wash,” he said to Ida before he sat himself down in the seat.

  Ida stepped around him toward the sink and the corner of her poofy-skirted dress caught on his knee. She stumbled forward and he reached out for her waist to steady her, sending his crutches sprawling. He made sure she was steady on her feet before he let her go, his hands feeling warm when he released her.

  “Sorry! Sorry.” Ida scampered to pick up his crutches. “Maybe you’re right about the shoes after all,” she muttered.

  He looked down and noticed her shoes for the first time that day. They were light blue. Like the turquoise stone he’d found in the mountains once. Their heel was just as high as the hot pink ones from before but there were no straps. They seemed to stay on her feet through some kind of magic.

  She turned on the water in the sink and there was nothing else for him to do but lean back in the chair.

  He eyed Wren across the room but she just held up her hands in surrender, settled back into a chair herself and closed her eyes. “Wake me up when you’re ready for the haircut,” she muttered, stacking her boots on the chair next to her and letting her eyes drift closed.

  “Okey dokey,” Ida muttered to herself. “Water? Check. Shampoo? Check. Essential oils? Check. I can do this.”

  Phoenix jumped a little bit when water unexpectedly doused his head.

  “Sorry!”

  “It’s all right, Glasses.” He forced himself to relax, figuring it was the only way he could probably get her to relax.

  The next pass of the water was a bit more contained, more tame, and Phoenix was actually able to register how nice it felt. He’d been taking cold showers in his tiny, dingy bathroom. Because after a lifetime of splashing around in frigid mountain streams, warm shower water had felt foreign and almost dirty. Like standing water warmed by the sun. He couldn’t help but picture algae slicking over his body.

  But right now? Algae was the farthest thing from his mind. The water was warm, but not as warm as Ida’s hands as she sudsed them up with something that smelled like flowers. At first her touch was light, so light that he squirmed against the tickle of it. But after a minute, her fingers became bolder. She rubbed at his temples and across his hairline. She massaged the crown of his head and behind his ears. Her hands ducked under his head and supported the weight for a moment, using the slick of the shampoo to rub out muscles he hadn’t realized were tight.

  It was when she changed her technique into a light scratch that the low growl started up in Phoenix’s throat. Almost a purr. He couldn’t stop it and didn’t try. His eyes, which had been riveted to Wren across the room, making sure she stayed over there, fell closed. He was sure his hair must be clean by now, but she didn’t stop rubbing at him. After what felt like forever, but also no time at all, she flicked the water on again and rinsed away the suds. Next came a quick rub through his hair with some other flower smelling product. By the time she sat him up, a towel around his shoulders, he felt as lazy and loose as a cat in a patch of sunlight.

  She carefully dried his ears and neck and forehead and he pushed toward her every which way she pushed against him. He was aware of her eyes on him, but he didn’t barely bother to open his own eyes to look back. He felt as relaxed and pain-free as he ever had. This was a heavenly place to be at that very moment.

  “All finished,” Ida said with a light squeeze to his shoulder.

  Phoenix forced his eyes opened and let her lead him to the other side of the room where Wren was organizing some tools to cut his hair. He felt like he was walking on clouds as he made his way into the chair.

  Wren’s touch was nothing like Ida’s. Much firmer, more businesslike and less creative. But after Ida had turned him into liquid sunshine, everything felt pretty good. His eyes fell closed again and he was surprised to find that the metallic clicking of the scissors as they moved around his head was actually soothing, not threatening.

  His eyes came open, however, when Wren moved on to his beard. She did some business with hot towels and a few creams and then she used a loud buzzer thing to straighten out his edges. Lastly, she held up what looked like a tiny knife of sorts.

  “I’m not gonna use this,” she told him the moment she saw the look on his face. “But I’m going to teach you how to use it so that you don’t look like a mountain man in a week. Cool?”

  He nodded and paid close attention while she talked him through the shaving cream and the direction to drag the knife over his neck and cheeks in order to keep things “nice and tight,” in her words.

  When he’d toweled off and stood up, all there was to do was eye himself in the mirror. He turned his head one way and then another. He definitely looked much more … something.

  “What are you thinking?” Ida asked, almost nervously, as if his reaction to his haircut meant a great deal to her.

  “I’m wondering if I’m much more attractive than most human men,” he answered honestly.

  Both women burst out laughing. He turned to them, a frown on his face and waited until they were done laughing.

  “He’s not joking, is he?” Wren asked Ida.

  “Nope,” Ida responded, popping the P. That sent them into more laughter that Phoenix didn’t understand.

  Then Ida was guiding him out of the house and he was crutching along behind her. He stopped, turned, and looked back at Wren. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, baby,” she called over her shoulder, still laughing.

  When he made it to the car, Ida was studying him. “That was nice of you to thank her.”

  “You just told me this morning to thank people when they give me a gift.” He looked up at her as he slid into the passenger seat.

  “I didn’t think you were listening.”

  “I was listening. I’m capable of learning, Ida. I’m not a, what did she call me? Mountain man?”

  Ida nodded, started the car and drove back in the direction of his house.

  “And I wasn’t making a joke when I asked that question.” He wou
ldn’t normally keep the conversation going at a time like this, but he still felt dozy and loose from that scalp massage, his head leaned back on the seat and the scent of flowers in his nose.

  “The one about your attractiveness?”

  “Yeah.” He rolled his head to study her profile while he drove. “It’s not something I understand about humans yet. What they find attractive.”

  “You can’t use your own feelings as a barometer for that?”

  He didn’t know what a barometer was, but he got what she was asking.

  “I know what I find attractive, but apparently, there’s a whole range of opinions. And sometimes I don’t realize something is attractive until someone else points it out.”

  “Example, please,” Ida said as she switched lanes.

  He didn’t want to give the example of Watt saying that Ida was a hot chick because he didn’t know whether or not that would be rude. He didn’t want to make Ida uncomfortable. And honestly, he didn’t want to talk to Ida about Watt, especially now that he knew they’d kissed. He cast about for another example he could use. “Like Wren’s hair. I assume she dyes it purple because there are people who find it attractive.”

  “Well, I think she dyes her hair for her own reasons, mostly. But I can definitely tell you that she certainly has her fair share of admirers. When we go out together, she can barely walk ten feet without some guy or another trying to buy her a drink.”

  He thought back on Wren’s thin form, her fox-like face and intelligent eyes. He guessed he understood the appeal there.

  “So, you genuinely aren’t sure of your own level of attractiveness?”

  Phoenix nodded, thought better of it, and cocked his head to one side. “Well. I’m pretty sure I’m good looking.”

  Ida laughed again. “Oh, the wonders of growing up in the wilderness. You actually survived puberty without a damaged sense of self.” They pulled up to a stoplight and she too rolled her head to look at him. “Just so you don’t have to wonder anymore, yes, you’re significantly more attractive than other human males. You’re kind of a perfect specimen. But just like you said, there’s lots of ways to be attractive, so it doesn’t necessarily help anybody to start measuring against other people.”