Real Men Shift Volume Two: Paranormal Werewolf Romance Boxed Set

by Celia Kyle

  “Then turn Persia’s eyes inward so she can see she loves me,” he insisted, not willing to give up.

  “Oh, my dear Warren. One isn’t born with love for someone else. It’s created, nurtured, earned. Human love is especially complex since they don’t have our ability to detect their mate.”

  Instead of pulling free from his vice-like grip, she wrapped her other hand around his, clearly trying to give him strength but failing miserably.

  “You will have my support in any way I can give it, Warren. A wolf finding his or her mate in a human is… challenging, at best. The wolf must tread carefully and work hard to earn the human’s love. It takes far more finesse than simply throwing her over your shoulder and getting to work making pups the minute you meet. That type of behavior is unfathomable to humans. Most wait years for anything remotely close to that, and sometimes it never comes at all.”

  “But what about Val?” He’d grasp at any straw at this point.

  Fang yipped at the sound of her mistress’s name and then trotted off toward the pack house to find her. Cassandra gave him a blissful smile.

  “Val was a human when she met Zeke, I’ll give you that, but she was far from typical. And don’t forget she’d had many years to accept our existence. It would be unfair and unkind to compare your situations.”

  Poof! The ember of hope winked out. Despair gripped him. Releasing Cassandra, he scowled at the dirt.

  “Then it’s over,” he murmured, his voice cracking at the end.

  She waited a beat, then offered, “Not necessarily. How have you worked for Persia’s love?”

  He perked up at that. “I helped get all those treehouses of theirs built, for one. Zeke donated the materials, and a bunch of sentries volunteered to help build them.”

  “So…you did anything a generous construction worker with the same goal as the protestors might do,” she noted dryly.

  That didn’t sound romantic when she said it that way. “Yeah, but—”

  “What else?”

  Warren racked his brain. “I, um, worked with my shirt off?”

  She seemed wholly unimpressed by that, so he hurriedly came up with something else. “Cassandra, I’ve shown her everything about myself, what pack life could be like, what our future might be. She knows how I feel and she knows we’re mates, but she turned her nose up at all of it. What more can I do?”

  Cassandra trailed a ghostly pale finger down his cheek. “My boy, so much more. Can you think of nothing you have in common? Nothing that’s connected you on a non-physical plane?”

  The it hit him. “Yes! She loves my wolf. Before she… found out about me, I would meet her in the clearing in Wolf Woods in my wolf form. Once she realized I wasn’t going to eat her for brunch, she opened up to me, venting about this and that. That’s how I got to know her better.”

  “I see,” Cassandra mused, a single eyebrow shooting up in amusement. “Unconventional, and perhaps a little deceptive, but clever. Did you touch her?”

  “Of course. As much as I could, anyway.”

  “Sexually?”

  “What? No! Normal stuff, like nuzzling her hand or licking her face, that kind of thing.”

  “Uh huh,” she murmured, as if she were mulling over this information, but Warren sensed she already knew what she was about to say. “And how often do you see humans licking each other’s faces?”

  His stomach dropped like an old balloon on a cold day.

  “Don’t look so dejected, Warren. You and your wolf may have different ways of handling your instincts, but you share the same core personality. If she loves your wolf, I believe there’s hope she’ll grow to love you, if you put in the work.”

  “What kind of work? Tell me.” He’d do anything to win her. Anything.

  “First you need to find human versions of licking her face. Think about what she likes about your wolf. Besides your fluffy coat,” she added with a wink.

  Warren had never felt so confused and aimless. He was usually the one with the sage advice, the conservative plan of action. But now he had no idea how to proceed.

  “She likes talking to him, I guess, telling him about all the stuff she’s dealing with.”

  “Ah! So, she likes a good listener. When you’re in your human form, do you listen with the same attention as your wolf?”

  Of course, he wanted to say, though he knew it was a lie. He’d spent plenty of time chatting and trying to impress her.

  “I guess I just think that’s the sort of things friends do,” he muttered, not particularly liking the view in the figurative mirror Cassandra was holding in front of him.

  “You don’t think mates should be friends too?” she asked with a soft laugh that sent flames to his cheeks. “For humans, friendship usually comes long before love. You want to be her lover immediately, and I understand that impulse. It’s in your nature. But it’s not in hers, so if you want her, you’re going to have to throttle your instincts and cater to hers. Try being her friend, Warren. Only then will you have a chance at winning her heart.”

  “And if that never happens?”

  The smile that always seemed to play at the corners of Cassandra’s mouth turned down into a well-defined frown. “Hypotheticals are dangerous, but I won’t lie. When a wolf knows who their fated mate is, but for whatever reason can’t have them, that poor wolf has my greatest sympathy.”

  “Why?” he asked, despite his great desire not to. It was always sunny in denial.

  “Because that wolf would live the rest of his or her life in abject misery. It’s a fate no normal wolf would wish on their worst enemy.”

  A darkness so black and dense that all hope was gobbled up by its gravity clouded his eyes, heart and soul. He clenched his jaw to keep from sobbing like a child in the middle of the pack house lawn. Capturing Cassandra’s gaze with an urgency he felt all the way to the tips of his hair, he took a step toward her.

  “Then take it from me now.”

  “Take… what?”

  “The mate thing. The drive, the connection, whatever it is. I don’t care if that means I’ll be alone for the rest of my life. I can’t imagine a lifetime of this pain. Just do your voodoo and make it so she’s not my mate. I mean, she’s human. It can’t be that hard.”

  The look of pity and disappointment in her eyes shamed Warren more than words ever could. Then came her words.

  “Warren, I love you as much as any other member of this pack, so I’m going to speak frankly. If you would rather ask for magic that would take away any chance at joy in your future than work for the love of your mate, then Persia isn’t the problem here. You are. To quote a human colloquialism, shit or get off the pot.”

  Rage and shame forced him to turn his back on the omega and stomp off in a huff. He’d tried to make Persia fall in love with him, but where did that get him? Nowhere, that’s where. So, he’d just spend his life wrapped in misery so heavy it would eventually drag him down like an anchor. He’d been the pack’s sad sack for years now anyway. Who would even notice the difference?

  Just as he entered the forest, he stopped in his tracks, his jaw set.

  Unless…

  Chapter Eighteen

  A heavy silence lay over the previously bustling protest site at the entrance to Wolf Woods. Persia sat hunched over the tiny fold-out table in Betty, triple-checking every piece of paperwork for any mistakes. It all needed to be perfect if she had a chance of winning a temporary injunction against her father. One misspelling could get her motion thrown out of court, leaving him free to proceed with his plans to start tearing down the woods.

  After hitching a ride in the van taking all those cute kids to school, Persia had slipped the driver ten bucks to drop her at Wolf Woods so she could finalize her paperwork and head to the courthouse. As urgent as the injunction was, though, she continually caught herself staring out the side window of her van toward the woods. More specifically, toward the meadow in the woods. Clear morning light streamed through the trees in pillar
s of pale gold. Birds did their birdy things, as if they hadn’t a care in the world. Far too much beauty and bliss for her state of mind, so she returned her gaze to the documents and tried not to think about Warren and werewolves and adorable kids who could shift into even more adorable puppies.

  The sound of gravel crunching under tires brought her back to reality. For a brief moment, her heart leapt at the thought Warren had followed her, but one glance out her back window killed that fantasy. Her father’s BMW pulled up directly behind her, as if she needed yet one more dark cloud to fuck up an already grim day.

  “Shit,” she muttered, gathering up all her paperwork and shoving it in a folder.

  Sliding open the side door and jumping out, she quickly closed and locked the van, just in case. Considering he’d sent one of his hunters to either kidnap or kill her the night before, it didn’t pay to take chances.

  “Morning, princess,” Dick flashed a warm grin, as if they weren’t bitter enemies.

  “What do you want?” Her hostile tone left nothing to the imagination.

  Dick held his hands up in surrender. “I come in peace,” he teased, but Persia no longer trusted any of his tones. “Honestly, I was hoping we could talk.”

  Oh, that didn’t sound suspicious as hell. “About what?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” he asked simply.

  It was. She glanced at the folder inside Betty and then nodded. “Fine, talk.”

  “It’s a perfect morning for taking a walk with your ol’ dad,” he offered his arm.

  She ignored it and set off toward the clearing, partly out of habit, but more in hopes he’d see the beauty of the place and decide to leave it undisturbed. A long shot, no doubt about it, but it sure as hell couldn’t hurt.

  He quickly fell behind, concerned over low shrubs catching his suit pants or scuffing his polished shoes. Persia continued to trudge along, taking sour pleasure in his discomfort. Once the path cleared a bit, he managed to reach her side.

  “You wanted to talk, so talk,” she grumbled, keeping her gaze on the terrain.

  “Well, quite frankly, I miss you.”

  This stunned her so savagely she stopped abruptly and stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. His grey eyes were shaded, almost guarded. And not because his heart was on the line. The man didn’t have one, so he obviously had other motives. She snorted, rolled her eyes and got back to walking.

  “Uh huh, sure. You almost had me there for a second.”

  He hurried to catch up again. “It’s true. Your mother misses you too.”

  This time she laughed outright. “Oh, please. Mother barely even knows I exist. I want you to guess the last time I heard from her. Go ahead, guess.”

  They trudged along for a moment before he guessed, “Your birthday?”

  Persia didn’t bother trying to stop her bitter laughter. “Well, technically you’re right, but I’ll give you a bonus question. Which birthday?”

  “Uh…”

  “My twenty-fifth, Daddy. Three years ago.” She sighed heavily. “Listen, I don’t hold it against her. You can correct me if I’m wrong, but she never wanted a kid in the first place. Trust me. She doesn’t miss me.”

  “Now, princess—”

  “Give it up already. It’s not like either of you really had a hand in raising me. That was left to the plethora of nannies that came and went, even when Mom wasn’t off being slathered in suntan lotion by some cute cabaña boy in a foreign land.”

  The not-so-subtle accusation of her mother’s probable infidelity didn’t even make her father flinch. “Well, I still miss you.”

  “Oh, please. You don’t even know me.”

  It was her father’s turn to snort. “I know you better than you think. You’re my daughter, my blood.”

  “Sadly.”

  Tension buzzed between them as they trudged along. Persia didn’t hate her father. She hated what he did, which probably meant she should hate him, but he was still her father. They’d had poignant moments and a handful of happy memories together. Still, she knew they’d never have a healthy relationship.

  “You’re too smart for your own good,” Dick said softly. “You think you’re always right and know better than everyone else. You’re stubborn as a mule. You’re a romantic at heart, even though you probably think you’re a stoic. But worst of all, you truly believe good will always triumph over evil.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “It’s… misguided, and you know it. You’re smart enough to know the world isn’t black and white, good and bad. That’s all just a construct devised to keep the proletariat under control. There are only varying shades of grey, my dear.”

  Persia’s mind instantly flashed on a certain book she and all her girlfriends had read back in college. It made her think of sex, which made her think about Warren’s perfect, muscular body. Which led to remembering how gently he’d caressed her, the sweetness of his kiss, the heat of his desire. None of which should have crossed her mind in the presence of her father.

  Still, his assessment of her was pretty spot on, not that she’d ever admit that to him. The one thing that stuck in her craw was his insistence she was a romantic. Of course, he’d qualified it by saying she wouldn’t think so, and that was also true. But as a child, one of her favorite pastimes had been having imaginary weddings to teen heart throbs in her back yard. Every Backstreet Boy had been immortalized in poster form on her walls, sending her off to sleep with dreams of kissing each and every one of them. When various boyfriends brought her flowers and tried wooing her, she always enjoyed it immensely, even if the boy in question was rather meh. No doubt about it, she loved being romanced. Too bad a certain sexy redneck didn’t have a romantic bone in his body.

  But did romance really matter? Sure, it was nice and fun, but love was love, regardless of all the frills. She didn’t need mushy poetry, chocolates and flowers, or grand gestures. What Persia had always wanted was something she’d never received from her father—honesty. That mattered more than all the rest combined. And though it had taken him a while to reveal his true nature—understandably—Warren had told her the truth about everything.

  Her heart lurched in her chest, causing her to stumble, though she played it off like she’d tripped over a root. Her own truth was that she hadn’t fully realized she wasn’t just hot for the sexy carpenter. A part of her that had been buried so deeply she hadn’t even known it existed surged with affection for him. When she recalled climbing aboard the van earlier, her breath hitched in her chest recalling the pain she’d felt leaving him in the dust like that. And not just because of the pain he most certainly felt after baring his soul to her, but because she hurt leaving him. They’d only been apart an hour or so and yet she longed to have him nearby. Not just for sex, but her soul ached for him.

  Oh shit, I’m in love!

  The thought startled her back into the present. Her father was still droning on about how much she meant to him, blah blah blah, as they neared the clearing where she’d met with Warren’s wolf so many times.

  “Enough, Daddy. Just stop already.”

  “Okay…” he conceded, though he clearly didn’t want to.

  She stopped just before they were about to break into the spot that felt so sacred to her. Sharing it with her father when he wanted to destroy it seemed wrong. Unless she could change his mind.

  “Please leave Wolf Woods alone,” she pleaded, opening herself up to him so he could get a tiny inkling of how important it all was to her. “Please.”

  “Now, princess—”

  “Seriously, the chicken ranch is so much better for everyone. It’s a classic win-win-win, and you know it.”

  Dick sniffed and wiped dirt off the toe of his very expensive loafer. “I can’t deny it’s a solid proposal, but I’m afraid it’s too little, too late, Persia. I’ve already poured way too much into this property.”

  “In the form of bribes, perchance?”

  He didn’t even have the
grace to blush. He simply let his smirk answer the question.

  “Do you want me to get down on my knees and beg, Daddy? Because I will.” She proved her point and dropped to the spongy forest floor, casting a pleading gaze up at him. “Please, if not for the locals, then for me. This isn’t just one of my causes, Daddy. It’s become so much more. It’s a mission of love.”

  “Love?” he asked, his brow furrowing as if the concept was alien to him.

  “I…” She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’ve grown close to one of the men from the, uh, Soren village. These woods mean so much to them, which makes this very personal to me.”

  Dick’s face grew red and then darkened to an apoplectic purple. “Y-you…” he stammered, unable to find words for whatever was bothering him. “You’re in love with one of those filthy, fucking mutants?”

  It took several moments for her father’s words to sink in. When they did, Persia stumbled to her feet awkwardly and edged away from him. The horrific realization that her father knew what Warren and his people actually were rocked her to the core.

  “You know?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Dick didn’t bother denying it. Instead, he gave her a condescending glare, which spoke volumes. “Of course. What kind of businessman would I be if I didn’t learn every single detail about my enemies?”

  The full gravity of this information nearly made her heave. Swallowing hard, she asked a question even she, a die-hard Dick McNish hater, never thought she’d ask.

  “So, you knew the wolves your hired guns have been hunting down aren’t just animals?” Her hands flew to her mouth, wanting to take back the words as soon as they were spoken, but once they were out there, she recognized the truth in them. “Jesus, Daddy! You’re killing people!”