Real Men Shift Volume Two: Paranormal Werewolf Romance Boxed Set

by Celia Kyle

  “Promise to sit still, Max.”

  It seemed so freaking important to her, and he couldn’t deny her anything she wanted so badly. “Fine. Go to it, doc.”

  Heaving a sigh of defeat, Max lay back and let her work. Healers had a thing about healing their patients. Go figure. If it eased her anxiety, he’d lie still like a good little boy.

  It wasn’t until he felt more warm wetness on his abdomen that he actually looked at her. Her eyes weren’t just shimmering with moisture. Her entire face had turned pink and tears streamed down in a heavier flow than the blood from his side.

  “Hey.” Good god, all he could think to say was Hey. Reaching up, he stroked her arm. “What’s the matter?”

  Trina’s lips quivered, even as she pressed them so tightly they disappeared, finishing up the stitches before ripping the gloves from her hands. He beckoned and she sat on the mattress next to him. Soon her entire body hitched and quaked with shuddering sobs that seemed to come up from the depths of her soul. All the jokes about men hating to see their women cry were funny for a reason. Because they were true!

  He’d do anything and everything to make every day perfect for Trina, if he could, but he knew life didn’t work that way. Swinging his legs around so he could sit next to her, he wrapped an arm around her shaking shoulders and hugged her to his good side. Stitches be damned.

  She didn’t even scold him. She simply buried her face in the bare skin of his neck and held onto him for dear life. A box of tissues sat on the counter, just out of Max’s reach, so he grabbed the next best thing—the gauze she was going to use on him.

  She snorted out a wet chuckle and dabbed her face. Then a fresh onslaught hit her. Certainly a few pulled stitches couldn’t have affected her so strongly. The source of her distress remained a mystery, but Max didn’t need a PhD in psychology to suspect it had very little to do with him.

  The sobs turned to hiccups, the hiccups to sniffles, the sniffles to one loud nose-blow, and then silence. Silence surrounded them like a comforting cocoon, and Max was determined to not be the one to break it.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered pitifully from the wet nook of his neck.

  “Shh, nothing to be sorry for, my love.” She nestled just a bit deeper at that. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

  She pulled away, his wolf crying out for him to pull her back, to hold her forever. That would be pretty sweet, but he sensed she was ready to talk.

  “This is all so… overwhelming.” The tears had dried, but she still held onto the square of gauze she’d used to mop up her tears.

  “Don’t I know it,” he said, keeping his tone gentle and light.

  She started shaking her head before he’d even finished. “No, you don’t deserve any of this.”

  This time he barked out a genuine laugh. “You’re right about that. You’re way too good for me.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  “Maybe not, but it’s the truth. Maybe you should just tell me what’s going on.”

  At his urging, she clenched her eyes shut and hung her head, avoiding his gaze. “This is going to sound crazy, but… I’ve already had a fated mate. Before you.”

  Max stiffened, like a deer frozen in the blinding headlights of an oncoming semi. A mate? No, not just a mate, but a fated mate, she’d said. How was that even possible? He was too stunned to ask, but thankfully he didn’t need to.

  “His name was Dean,” she said, choking up on the name. “We grew up together, and we both knew we belonged to each other since we were little. We waited until we were eighteen to make it official, though. The whole pack came out for the celebration and to see us off on our honeymoon to the Caribbean. Life was perfect.”

  Part of Max—the still-wild part—wanted to be jealous of this Dean guy, to hunt him down and show him who truly was Trina’s mate. But from the tears and the ominous start to her story, as well as the fact not a single person had mentioned anything about her having a mate named Dean, he assumed something tragic had befallen her first mate. That insight didn’t make him feel better in the slightest. Worse, actually. Trina only deserved happiness and love and light.

  “We spent three amazing days doing all the things honeymooners do—paragliding, snorkeling, shopping…” She shot him a guilty glance. “And other stuff.”

  He kept his expression completely passive. He never expected her to be a virgin or anything. Her sigh almost sounded relieved as she continued.

  “I was so damn tired by the fourth morning, all I wanted to do was sleep in, but Dean had booked us on a scuba diving trip. I had every intention of joining him, I really did, but he saw how much I was dragging ass and insisted I stay in bed. ‘Get a massage,’ he told me. ‘Pamper yourself for once.’” She swallowed hard. “So, I did. He kissed me goodbye and that was the last time I saw him alive.”

  Max instinctively pulled her tighter to him, trying to absorb some of her pain. Or at least help her carry the load a little. What a horrible tragedy to suffer, and at such a young age.

  “The guide had told everyone to stay away from this one particular cave, which only piqued Dean’s interest. He was always such a daredevil. Invincible.” A wistful little smile played at her lips before the sadness returned full force. “A team of rescuers finally found him, but by then it was too late.”

  “I’m so sorry.” It was all he could think to say. Anything else felt so inadequate.

  She turned her heartbroken eyes on him, holding onto her dignity with both hands. “He was trapped in that cave for hours, Max. Alone and scared, knowing his tank of air wouldn’t last much longer. I can only imagine what he was thinking while I was getting a facial and hot stone massage in the hotel spa. While they were transporting his body back to shore, I was getting a mani-pedi.”

  “You couldn’t have known, Trina.”

  “Maybe not,” she said, her back stiffening. “But if I’d gone with him instead of spoiling myself, he wouldn’t have died. No, don’t try to say otherwise, Max. I would never have ventured anywhere near the forbidden cave, and Dean would have stayed close to me. I know that in my bones. He’d still be alive if I hadn’t been so selfish.”

  “It was an accident,” he said so softly he barely heard himself. “Plain and simple. Not your fault. You can’t second-guess yourself like this. You’re just torturing yourself.”

  “Maybe so. Maybe I’m punishing myself. Or maybe I’ve spent the last nine years believing I would be alone for the rest of my life, only to have that belief turned upside down over the last twenty-four hours.”

  Max’s stomach clenched. “Are you haven’t second thoughts—”

  “No,” she interrupted without hesitation. She still wouldn’t meet his eye though. “I know we’re fated mates, Max. I feel it on a cellular level, just like I did with Dean. Different, but with the same intensity.”

  He swallowed a lump in his throat the size of a watermelon, relieved that she wasn’t second-guessing their bond.

  “It’s all just happened so fast,” she said, finally giving him a weak smile. “Seeing you bleeding like that, after… well, everything. It just hit me like a hammer. I’ve spent so much time grieving—and not just for Dean, but also for the life I’d always thought I would have. That was stolen from me at such a young age, and I never thought I’d get another chance.”

  Max rubbed slow, loving circles on her back, feeling the tension between her shoulders slacken with each pass. He wasn’t fool enough to think a back rub or a good lay could erase all her sadness, so he stayed quiet and let her take the lead.

  “I-I think I just need some time to process all of this. I didn’t realize that until now, but the fact of the matter is that I’ve been holding onto my grief like a badge of honor and I think I’m having a hard time letting go of it. Does that make sense?”

  “It does…” he said, not sure he liked the way the discussion was heading.

  “Besides,” she said, eyes drifting down the length of Max’s body. “Y
ou clearly need more time to heal.”

  “A little man’s little bullet isn’t going to stop me from claiming you,” he growled.

  “I believe it, after everything I’ve seen,” she laughed—a real, genuine, from-the-belly laugh, and it lit up his heart like a spotlight. “But I need you to be at the top of your game when we finally claim each other, Max—” her eyes smoldered with pent-up need “—because when the time comes, I’m going to rock… your… world.”

  She paused long enough for Max to go rock hard—not that she needed to pause at all. Her simple nearness had him thinking things little old ladies would blush over.

  “And,” she continued with a sexy smirk, “I don’t want to have to stop in the middle of it to stitch you back up again.”

  Warmth spread through his body, starting at his heart, which beat triple-time. He could have easily thrown her back and claimed her right there, but she was right. Dropping a kiss on her nose, he pulled her into a hug.

  “Sounds like a deal to me. Besides, you’re not the only one whose life has been upended. For the last two years, the focus of my entire life has been to bring down Dick McNish. In all that time, I never once thought about finding a mate. Then you came out of nowhere and hit me like… well, like a bullet.”

  He tipped her a wink, and she rolled her eyes at the tasteless joke, but he sensed her joy nonetheless.

  “I mean, we’ve both waited this long. A few more days couldn’t hurt,” he added. “And neither could making out a little in the meantime.”

  Chapter Eleven

  It was shaping up to be another beautiful, peaceful morning as Trina padded into the kitchen in her house slippers to turn on the electric kettle. She yawned and leaned against the counter while she waited for the water to heat up, taking down two ceramic mugs from their hooks over the stove. Dropping a bag of her usual Earl Grey into one mug, she wondered what kind of tea her mate might want. Might be fun to guess.

  One shelf in her kitchen was devoted to nothing but tea. She had a little bit of everything, partly so she could have whatever a patient might want, but mostly because she loved tea. Spotting a dark brown box with vaguely Indian chartreuse swirls decorating it, she smiled. A robust, spicy masala chai seemed to fit Max’s personality. Now she just had to wait to see if she was right.

  As the cups of tea steeped, she turned to head into the clinic to wake Max when he sauntered into the kitchen wearing nothing but his very short, very revealing hospital gown. Nearly every inch of his tree-trunk thighs were visible, ratcheting up her heart rate. Who needed caffeine when that just walked into the room?

  “Morning,” he yawned, his light brown hair still tousled from sleep and a red crease running up the side of his face from the pillow. “Mmm, is that chai I smell?”

  Trina grinned and held the mug out to him, but instead of taking a sip, he set it on the counter and folded her into his arms. Nothing sexy—well, nothing sexual because every damn thing about the man was sexy. She slid her hands into the gap of the gown and reveled in the warmth of his back. They stood and swayed together, breathing each other in, and then he pulled back enough to plant a sweet kiss on her forehead before releasing her. Tingles bloomed on her skin like a massive firework, sending the glowing embers cascading down the rest of her body.

  “I thought we could sit out on the porch to have our tea,” she said, her voice thick from the sensations coursing through her so early. “I do it every morning.”

  “Sure,” he said, heading for the front door. Predictably, the gown, which opened in the back, flapped this way and that, revealing the most perfect ass that had ever graced the earth.

  “Wait!” She gave him a slow, appreciative assessment, her eyes lingering where a sliver of rounded flesh peeked out. “As much as I’d love for you to wear that all day, every day, from this day forward, amen… I’m afraid anyone who passes by might get more than they bargained for.”

  Nudity wasn’t that big of a deal in the shifter community, but better safe than sorry, especially when the pups started running for the school van.

  Max flashed her a grin. “Well, now I know what I’m packing for our honeymoon.”

  As he disappeared into the clinic to put on the clothes Warren had given him, Trina settled in her chair on the porch. His comment might have sent her into a tailspin a week earlier, but after their talk the night before, she felt nothing but happiness. She couldn’t wait to finally claim him as hers and vice versa. And the thought of a vacation sounded marvelous, especially after not taking one for nine long years. She would only have one demand—no scuba diving.

  Warm lips pressed to the back of her neck and she tilted her head forward to give them better access.

  “Mmm, you taste better than chai,” he murmured before taking the seat next to her.

  “You smell a little like chai,” she sighed happily and then laughed when he took a seat. “I thought I told you to put on some clothes!”

  “I did,” he said, looking down at his bare chest as if she were blind. “Look, jeans!”

  They sat in companionable silence as they took the first sips of their steaming tea. Before long, her tiny army of pups tore out of the woods like little banshees, just as they did every weekday. All grins and skips and jumps and shouts. Oh, and singing. Those kids loved to sing made-up songs. Little Hux waved merrily at them as he scampered to keep up with the rest of the group. Good to see he’d taken their warning seriously.

  “Gotta admit, they’re pretty damn cute,” Max said.

  He was smiling, but something else hovered right underneath, and she was pretty sure what it was.

  “Yup, that’s why I sit out here every day I can,” she said. “Personally, I can hardly wait to have some of our own.”

  She watched him over the rim of her cup as she took a purposeful sip. That something else she’d seen in his eyes flared brightly. Excitement.

  “We could get started right now, if you want,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

  “What happened to waiting for a few days to let you heal?”

  He shrugged. “Waiting’s overrated.”

  “Not when you have a crap ton of stitches holding you together,” she countered, enjoying the banter. “Speaking of, how did you sleep?”

  “Fine, though I was a little lonely. Better than expected actually, considering you sent me to bed with a raging case of blue balls.”

  Trina laughed and poked his hard-as-concrete bicep. “You weren’t the only one, mister. I may not have balls, but I can assure you, I slept about as well as you.”

  “I know you’re right about slowing our roll until we’re both in the right place, physically and mentally. I don’t want to wait, but good things come to those who do. And I intend to make you come over and over and over again.”

  Heat flooded her cheeks, as well as other parts of her anatomy. Better change subjects, and fast, or they might end up breaking their own self-inflicted promise.

  “I want to thank you for looking out for Little Hux the other day. All the pups, really. You aren’t even a member of the pack, yet you went out of your way to protect them. You didn’t have to do that.”

  Max shrugged. “Anyone else would have done the same thing.”

  “No, Max. Not everyone would do what you did. I’m serious. Lone wolves… they don’t usually get involved in other packs’ business. You’re really extraordinary.”

  “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. On both counts. I’m hardly extraordinary, and I’m not really a lone wolf. Not by choice, anyway.”

  Before she could ask what he meant, he pushed on. “The truth is, I just happened in Wolf Woods because it was close to town, and I knew McNish had set up shop there. But the moment I stepped foot in the woods, I felt a deep connection to the place.”

  “Really? I’ve run in those woods since I was a pup. It has its charms, but it seems just like any other forest to me.”

  “Not to me,” he said, leaning back and enjoying his tea.

&n
bsp; Trina set down her mug and pulled her legs up to her chest, resting her chin on her knees to face him. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not entirely sure,” he admitted, staring off into the trees. “Maybe my wolf knew you were close by or something. But I think it’s even more than that. I fell in love with the sound of them.”

  Trina tilted her head to one side. “The sound? Wolf Woods sounds different than other forests?”

  “If you listen closely enough,” he said, a twinkle in his eye as he turned to smile at her.

  She’d been in Wolf Woods a jillionty times and never heard anything other than typical forest sounds—wind in the trees, birds chirping, grass rustling. FOMO—fear of missing out—hit her hard, plus she welcomed the chance to get into Max’s headspace a little more. Getting to know one’s mate better was never a bad thing.

  “I don’t have any patients scheduled this morning,” she said. “Maybe you could take me there, show me what’s so special about them?”

  “Let’s go!” Max beamed at her as he jumped to his feet and started unbuttoning his pants so he could shift. Trina held up one finger. “We can’t go as wolves. First, you’ll pop those stitches again. Second, you were shot there just two days ago by men tasked with hunting wolves, which you seem to have forgotten.”

  “Oh, right.” He looked slightly put out and then sighed. “Better go put on a shirt and shoes.”

  “I want to change your dressing first,” she said, following him inside.

  A half-hour later, they were pulling into the primitive parking area outside the main Wolf Woods entrance. The human protestors were still gathered under the McNish billboard, and it seemed their ranks had grown overnight. Not by a lot, but Persia was no longer the only female milling around, chanting and waving signs.

  As they climbed out of Trina’s very practical crossover car, the redheaded human caught sight of her and trotted over. “Nice to see you again, Trina. Did you decide to join the protest?”