I don’t give a shit about the pack. They’re gone, disappeared in a blink. We’re alone.I say, “Hey.”She lowers her eyes, her dark eyelashes sweeping her pink-stained cheeks.“Hi,” she whispers back. She can’t help but peek at my face. My chest. The tent in my pants.In the showers, I stroke my cock. I’m harder than I’ve ever been, abs clenched, eyes screwed shut.“What do you need?” I ask her.“You,” she says. “Please.”In my mind, Rosie reaches up, winding her arms around my neck, holding tight as I lift her. She wraps her legs around my hips and raises her smiling mouth to kiss my jaw, my neck.I carry her to a dark corner, set her ass on a ledge, and her fingers scramble at my shirt buttons, her lips seeking mine, opening for me without prompting, and I take whatever I want. She offers me everything.“I want you so bad,” she pants. “Make it feel better.”I unzip her hoodie, feed her nipples into my mouth, suckle and bite, and she goes wild. She needs me inside her. She whimpers, b
The Shahs listen attentively, seated by the fireplace, drinks in hand. My father lounges in his wingback chair, a wall of windows at his back. Uncle Alban and my cousin Brody dominate a sofa. Tonight, there is no reflection of the moon in the vast black lake.An attendant offers me a vermouth. I decline and stand at polite attention as Mother finishes De Falla’s “Spanish Dance.”From this vantage point, at night, the lake looks oval. The lights of the cookie cutter homes of the Estates, the marina and the shops at the Landing, and the lit offices of the High Rise form a glowing ring, casting a glitter on the waves lapping the rocky shoreline.In the distance, the Narrows are shrouded in blackness, and the Bogs blend into the darkened woods and the foothills beyond.It’s as if they don’t exist.I finger my phone in my pocket. It hasn’t vibrated. I’d have felt it.Seth throws back one drink and starts another before Mother plucks the last notes of her usual piece and smiles graciously a
Oblivious, Mr. Shah lets out a well-fed sigh and drops his napkin next to his cleaned plate. “My compliments.”Father inclines his head. The creases at the corners of his eyes are deepening, his face graying. He’s fading fast. He needs his shot.“We hope you’re enjoying your stay at Moon Lake.” I take over the conversation, drawing attention to my end of the table.“Very much.” Mr. Shah accepts a digestif from an attendant. “Our family is excited to join the community. It’s truly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I have to say—I expected something a little more—” He searches for a word.“Exotic?” I suggest. With humans, we’re always “exotic” or “wild.”Mr. Shah chuckles. “I would have said wild. The media would have us believe shifters live as wolves, running wild in the woods.” He gestures toward the Kandinsky and cocks a dark eyebrow.“The truth is always less interesting, isn’t it?” That’s talking point number two in our PR packet. Talking point number one? Everything you’ve heard
It takes Derwyn too long to respond. My heart thuds harder every second before he sends a blurry shot of a rusted single-wide trailer on a floating dock, surrounded by swamp grass taller than its flat roof. I squint. There’s a wolf’s paw dangling out of the cracked screen door.I delete the photo. It’s shameful that our own packmates should choose to live that way.This is a mess.Alban has fired a shot over the bow. He knows about Rosie. He’s not stupid. He’ll suspect what she is to me.Last night, when Father was talking me down, he said Alban won’t touch her. She has more value to him as leverage, and no value if I don’t claim her as my mate.I see the sense, but my body isn’t guided by reason. Even now, my muscles are swelling, veins popping, the pace of change increasing as time goes on.I’m going to end up bigger and stronger than any Moon Lake male, and I still won’t be able to beat Uncle Alban because he can shift on a dime one time and use his opposable human thumbs to shank
“Her household is almost all female.” My jaw tightens. “Males are in and out of the place. The sister whores herself. The sister-in-law, too.”Mother lowers herself to the sofa, folding her legs and smoothing her silk slacks. “It’s such a shame.” She shakes her head. “If only they took advantage of the opportunities we give them.”“That’s beside the point.” I have no desire to dwell on shit I cannot change.Mother, of course, plows on. “This pack provides them with everything—an education, housing, food, medical care, everything. And they huddle down in that swamp, running wild, thieving whatever we don’t outright give them.”“You sound like Uncle Alban.” It’s not untrue, but it’s not how Father likes to talk about the scavenger problem.“Alban’s not entirely wrong.” Mother purses her lips and idly spins her diamond bracelet. “I’ve told your father a hundred times that we do them no service by treating them like pups. We encourage their laziness. They’ll never become ranked members of
Father sighs. “You’re young. I know this feels like a disaster, but it’s not. Your mother, she has a point. Listen—” Father’s gaze grows distant. “You’re the alpha heir. The scavenger will wait. She’ll take what you offer.”A bitter taste floods my mouth.Father sees my face. He sniffs and swipes his nose. He’s the only one who has ever been able to read me.“I’ll be blunt, son. Fuck her all you want. Do her on the lakeshore under a full moon if you want.” His voice grows hard. “At this point, it’s better Alban thinks you’re finally availing yourself of scavenger pussy. Throw him off the scent. It’s better if he thinks you’ve found yourself a whore than you’ve found yourself a mate.”My gut cramps.“But whatever you do, don’t knot her. Don’t breed her. And for all that’s holy, don’t bite her.”Blood roars in my ears. A sour, dank wrongness trickles through me. The words make sense, but damn, they reek.“What happened to leave the scavenger females alone?”Father has driven that home s
I’ve been here before. It’s the alpha’s duty to survey his territory. Father and I tour the Bogs at the summer solstice each year. Whichever random unkempt half-wolf they designate as spokesperson escorts us by lagging behind and barking an occasional “left” or “keep going that way, and you’ll end up in the drink, you will.”We bring special allotment baskets, accept a tribute of moonshine from a scavenger with her tits hanging out, and say, “Until next year.”They don’t want us here. We don’t want to be here.I don’t want to be here now, except—My heart slugs against my ribs, a slow, syncopated rhythm, excitement gathering. I smell cloves over the fish heads bobbing in the marsh grasses, and it’s a beacon.I pick up the pace. As I turn down a narrow board, a couple tumbles from a trailer, laughing, holding each other upright. They startle when they recognize me. The female cackles before her male cuffs her on the side of the head. They both lower their heads and scurry past, giving
A scuffle ensues in the doorway. A sleepy yowl. The dangling paw is jerked inside. Rosie is thrust out by arms jingling to the elbows with gold bracelets.Rosie trips down the single step to the boards and wobbles a moment before finding her balance.“Don’t want no trouble, Alpha Heir,” Drona says and slams the door.Rosie stares at me. Her eyes are burnished brown, sparkling in the light spilling from the trailer window. The air is sucked from my lungs.Her back is pressed to the door, and she scrabbles at the doorknob with no luck.What is she wearing?They’re obviously castoffs—ripped jeans, a faded navy T-shirt with a gaping neckline that reads “Moon Lake Corporate Summer Retreat 2014,” and a green, pilled cardigan. Her feet are bare. There’s a silver ring on her pinky toe.Who gave her that?My wolf bares his fangs.“Who gave you the ring?” I clear my throat. My tone is harsher than called for.She glances down at her feet, her forehead furrowing. She curls her small toes.“Nia,”
The humans know about shifters, of course, but there’s no need to draw more attention to us than we already do, as strangers in such a small town. Folks already gawk as Annie leads us to the village commons even though the streets are busy. It’s market day.As soon as we reach the grassy expanse filled with tables and tents, Alroy and Diantha peel off, heading in opposite directions. Griff seems torn, but when he sees that Diantha is making a beeline for a booth with racks of female clothing, he hurries to follow Alroy.Annie leads us down the makeshift walkways, smiling when she’s greeted by name. My mate is still shy, but there’s no trace of fear in her scent. I breathe her happiness and excitement in, letting it flush my lungs clean of the oily town air.She sees her friends before I do and lets go of my hand to run toward them.My mate. My Annie. Running with a smile lighting her face.This is a good, good day.Two females rush around their table, the third making her way more slo
JUSTUSMy perfect, beautiful mate does not like surprises, so she knows exactly where we’re going as we trot through the woods that run along the human highway. At first, I was sad that I couldn’t spring this visit on her, but I love watching her wolf get more and more excited the closer we get to Chapel Bell. Her short little legs are moving so fast, I almost don’t have to slow my pace.Alroy, Griff, and Diantha don’t have my patience, so they’re several yards ahead of us. Poor Griff has to be the buffer between them, and he keeps getting caught in the crossfire when their wolves decide to break the monotony by sniping at each other.I was worried that Annie would be too nervous to venture this far from camp, but she gets more confident every day. I’m pretty sure that’s because when we were out for a walk two months ago, she saw me take out two ferals that were encroaching on our territory to the north, so even though Killian and I pretty much fought to a draw, she knows I can handle
He bares his fangs, yanks the needle from his neck, and blinks at it, bemused.“Did you stab me with a fucking knitting needle?” He holds it up. Blood oozes from the wound, dripping down his bare chest. I didn’t even hit an artery.Justus snarls, squaring his shoulders and bending his knees, readying himself to attack. Every inch of his body is covered in mud and blood, gashes and purpling bruises. White bone shows through a jagged slash on his forearm.A male coughs, clearing his throat. “Can we just take a beat?” Killian raises his hands, raw flesh where his nails should be.I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but he’s as battered as Justus, and he seems to be favoring his left leg, like his right can’t hold weight. Our males spar constantly. I’ve seen all of them beat up at some point, but I’ve never seen any of them mangled this bad. I can’t believe either he or Justus are still upright.“That bitch stabbed me.” Leith points at me with the knitting needle.Justus howls and steps
My wolf skids to a halt several feet away and then slinks forward, keeping the fire between her and the Salt Mountain wolf, letting the smoke block her scent. When she’s too close to dare creep closer, she huddles close to the ground, staring up and up at his tremendous mud-caked haunches. She’s a miniature in comparison. All the females are, and we all stare, powerless, as the wolf’s bones crack and a strapping man rises from the hulk of his beast.His blond hair shines through the dirt. I’ve seen him. Leith Munroe. The new Salt Mountain alpha.He rests his hands on his hips as if there isn’t chaos all around him as his wolves play a game of distraction, breaking after our slower, smaller, or older males and mauling them until our strong males are forced to turn back, away from us, to rescue them.Leith takes no notice of our wolves, even when they get close, or me, skulking behind the fire. Why would he? I’m no threat—skinny and small and stinking of fear.Instead, he’s intent on so
ANNIERun! Run! Run!I squat as low as I can in the wildflowers and tear off my clothes.A few yards away, Killian and Justus are murdering each other. Tye, Ivo, and the rest are just watching, and no matter how much I scream, no matter what I say, their wolves don’t listen.And the Salt Mountain wolves are up to something. They’re edging away from the fight toward the trail to camp. Quarry Pack is so intent on the fight, they either don’t notice or don’t care.I have to get to Khalil, and my wolf is faster.Run into the woods! The woods!I huddle in the tall grass and summon my wolf. For the first time in my life, she’s ahead of me, bursting through our skin before I’m ready, assuming form like she’s surfacing from water rather than tearing herself free from bone and muscle.She runs away from the woods, toward the trail. The Salt Mountain wolves have gotten ahead of her, so she hangs back, keeping low and downwind.Turn around! Now!What are they doing? They can’t think to attack La
“Lavender is light green this time of year. It doesn’t bloom until June or July.”“What are you going to do with it now then?”“Make a sachet. The scent mostly comes from the oils in its leaves.”“Make a sachet for who?”I wade through the tall grass to stand close to her and inhale her sweet rainy scent.“For the den,” she says, glancing bashfully up at me from under her thick brown lashes. She’s wearing my old sweater and another pair of my drawstring pants. Her pulse flutters at the base of her throat. She’s excited, too.Maybe we should cut this trip short and head back to the den.Or take a detour into the woods.She probably wouldn’t do that, but I think she’d agree to return to camp. I draw in another deep breath. Her arousal teases my nose.My wolf snarls.Annie startles.It takes my brain three seconds too long to catch up.Underlying the rain and slick, there is another scent. Earthy, yes, but not the right earth. It doesn’t belong. I’ve smelled it before. A long time ago.I
My grip on the pot handle tightens. Water sloshes over the sides. My jaw clenches, my guts knot, and my dry eyes burn.I can’t do this.I have to.“Justus?” Annie appears in the den entrance. She’s wrapped herself in a light pink sheet, and she’s holding a cup. “You brought water.” She smiles, padding toward me on bare feet.And then she stops. Her smile falls aways.She blinks in the sunshine, the bleariness of sleep disappearing as she takes in my grim face and desperate hold on the pot. If I had dignity, I’d find a way to smile back. Say good morning. Act like everything is fine.Her chest falls as she lets out a long, silent breath. She looks me straight in the eye. Her fear and doubt are clear as day.She’s going to ask me to take her home now.She takes a step closer to me, and then another, until we’re toe to toe. She gazes up at me, and for a second, all I can see is her beauty—her graceful neck, her delicate pointy chin, her soft, curving lips—and then I notice the expression
“Trust me,” he shushes, the hot head of his cock already notching at my entrance. He flexes his hips and sinks into me, a groan of pure relief torn from his throat. He fills me so completely that I ache where I take him, but I love it.I pant through the strain, and he gathers me close as he thrusts, cradling me to his chest, kissing my lips, my brow, my cheeks, the tip of my nose. I start to rock my hips in time.“You’re so beautiful, Annie,” he rumbles in my ear. “So perfect for me. My Annie. Mine.”I sigh and ride his bucking hips, his cock stretching me until I feel like a glove made for him.“Come for me, now,” he growls. “Now, Annie.”Hot cum floods my womb, and his knot catches and swells, tearing a raw shout from my throat. His fingers find my clit while his fangs sink into my shoulder.I scream, bucking against him, but I’m caught, so he moves with me, hushing me.I hover another second on the edge, somehow above myself, watching his strong arms tremble as they wrap around me
I let my hand fall and turn my head away.He snarls. He doesn’t like that.I drop back so I’m sitting on the pallet, lift my chin, and fold my arms. His wolf rumbles unhappily. He shouldn’t have let his man mess with my nest.He dips his head and looks up at me from his lowered eyes, a wolf playing at a lamb. “I’m sorry, Annie. Here it is.”He holds the pillow out.It’s a trap.Of course it’s a trap. I reach for it anyway. As soon as I grab the pillow, he yanks and falls to his back, dragging me with him. I tumble on top of him. He quickly nips the pillow from my grasp, tucks it behind his head, and grins up at me.I push up on his chest, struggling upright until I’m straddling his waist. He crosses his arms behind his head.I lean forward and try to pull the pillow free, but his head is too heavy.“Just ask nicely, Annie.” There’s a new note in his voice, a gravelly depth that has nothing to do with his wolf.I prop myself on his folded biceps. They’re hard and velvet and flexing und