Winter of the Wolf Page 14

  “You find it?”

  “You find it?”

  She wagged her tail.

  “Good girl.” His voice was a shivery, growly sound.

  “When it’s time, open the door and step through. You clear on that, little female?”

  She wagged her tail and looked around again. So much to see.

  Zeb was undressing.

  Shay, stil a dog—no, a wolf—paced forward. His muzzle touched hers, then he stalked around her, sniffing, before standing in front of her again.

  God, he smeled wonderful too, like power and mountains with a musky elusive scent. She trembled, and her tongue flicked out to lick his muzzle. Like it was something she should do.

  He licked her back, making her tail wag uncontrolably.

  She’d missed seeing Zeb without clothes—and wasn’t that an interesting regret?—but he’d already turned into a wolf.

  With almost black fur, he was taler, yet more streamlined than Shay. If it were possible, Zeb looked even more deadly as a wolf.

  He, too, walked around her, sniffing. His shoulder bumped against hers, giving her a feel for how much heavier and more powerful he was, and making something quiver deep inside her.

  She whined.

  She whined.

  Shay’s head turned toward Calum.

  Although the darkness was gone from his eyes, the air around Calum rippled like waves rising from an overheated oven. He smiled at her. “You did wel, Breanne. Listen to your mentors and enjoy your first trawsfur.” Even on four legs, Shay loomed over her. He licked her muzzle, and her attention snapped to him. With a low bark, he bounded away, heading into the forest. Zeb folowed to the edge of the trees and looked back.

  With a sharp yip she couldn’t contain, Bree leaped after them, trying not to look down. Four legs…I have four legs.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ack! Bree yelped as her shoes fel off her hind paws. Her sweater bunched up, tangling her front legs.

  She whined, trying not to panic as her own clothes trapped her. Shivering, she held stil. The scents of the house—wood smoke, hazelnut coffee, herbal soap from the shower—

  washed over her. The breeze coming in the windows brought the fragrance of pine and snow. The mountains were caling her. She took a step in that direction and halted as her jeans slid off her haunches.

  slid off her haunches.

  Door, door, where’s the darned door ? Time expanded to eternity before she found it and mentaly opened it. She stepped through…and was on her hands and knees in the middle of her cabin. As the magical tingles danced over her skin, she bowed her head. Sweat chiled her forehead. Wel, wasn’t that fun?

  After a couple of deep breaths, she pushed to her feet and wiggled her jeans up. Werewolf am I? Not a very competent one. How come the movies made it look so easy? With a resigned laugh, she adjusted the bra that had bunched under her arms. Maybe she should go without underwear until she got the hang of this stuff. She’d already popped into wolfy form twice today.

  She glanced wistfuly at the back door, but Shay and Zeb said she couldn’t run the forest without one of them along.

  Not yet.

  “Babysitters. At my age.” She brushed her hands off and combed her hair back. “Huge babysitters, no less.” After dropping onto the couch, she put her feet on the hand-hewn coffee table.

  Shocking revelations or not, she physicaly felt great. How long had it been since she was healthy? Truly alive? Would she have slowly faded away to death in Seattle? She bit her lip. Apparently. But now, she was going to live, only…she was a werewolf. I don’t munch on people though. Ew .

  was a werewolf. I don’t munch on people though. Ew .

  And she hadn’t trawsfurred into something grotesque like in the movies.

  Last night in the cabin, Shay had caled her over to the bathroom door mirror. Zeb had padded in to stand beside her. She’d looked so delicate next to him. Her fur was glimmery and pale as moonlight on her sides and legs. A darker gray streak ran down her back and marked her ears.

  Her cheek and neck fur was pure white. Realy, she made a prettier wolf than a woman.

  A wolf. Jeez. I’m accepting this really well, aren’t I?

  Now if she could only figure out what came next. Last night, the men had started to answer her questions, but she’d falen asleep right there on the couch. One of them must have carried her to the bed and tucked her in. They sure held her a lot. The memory of Zeb’s hard arms and his rumbling voice made her melt inside. And with Shay, so big he almost engulfed her, she felt smal and fragile, and so, so safe. Did they see her as a woman or just another chore?

  How did she want them to see her?

  She shook her head. One thing at a time. Meantime, she had to learn to manage this wolfy shape. How to differentiate al the kazilion scents. Keep the legs moving in an organized manner—which she could mostly do, if she didn’t think about it. Manage the weird maneuver of turning one ear forward and one back. She grinned. That was so cool.

  and one back. She grinned. That was so cool.

  How long would she be in Cold Creek? Should she, maybe, stay? The momentary hope startled her, then terrified her. This isn’t my place. Not at all. I have to go back to Seattle. That’s my home. But how did a shifter survive in a city? She frowned. What would the joggers in Discovery Park say if a wolf joined them…?

  * * *

  The sun was high overhead when Zeb turned and headed back down the mountain at a trot. Bree had kept up wel; her endurance had improved over the last four days.

  She was a damned fast little wolf—as long as she didn’t overthink and get her legs tangled up. He tipped an ear to the rear, listening to the rhythm of her paws on the trail. She stayed close. The icy wind off the glaciers whipped through his fur, a welcome coolness after the hard run they’d finished, but wafting her scent to him. She’d had an appealing scent before; now, with the wild tang of a shifter added in, it was almost irresistible.

  The wind veered and brought him the scent of a rat in the tangle of dead branches ahead. He let Bree catch up, then lifted his muzzle and sniffed.

  She needed to learn to deal with prey, and a rodent was a good place to start.As she caught the scent, he stepped back good place to start.As she caught the scent, he stepped back to let her handle it.

  She waited for the tiny betraying rustle, then pounced. She had the rat in her jaws. A crunch and whipping motion broke its neck. Good. She’d completed her first hunt, no matter how short. Her first taste of warm blood.

  Instincts took over, and she had the rodent half-eaten before her brain caught up. And then she backed away from the carcass as if a bee had stung her nose. A second later, she was human. On her knees, she stared at the mess and scrubbed her hands over her face. She looked at the streaks of blood on her palms and her nose wrinkled.

  Fuck, was she going to panic? Worried, he trawsfurred.

  “Oh jeez, I ate a rat.” She looked at him with horrified eyes. “I kiled it and ate it. Ewww.” Something inside him tickled, increased to uncontrolable, and then he burst into laughter. She glared at him, making it worse, until he put his hands on his knees and just roared.

  Her lips curved up reluctantly. “I’ve never heard you laugh like that. But it’s not funny.”

  “It’s just lunch.” He considered and added, “I’d rather have field mice though. Crunchier—like popcorn.” She gave him a revolted look and swalowed hard.

  Zeb tried to suppress another wave of laughter. By the God, he hadn’t laughed that hard in…ever. He leaned against a tree and watched her. Pretty little female, her hair shining gold in the sunlight and tiny nose wrinkled in disgust. Usualy gold in the sunlight and tiny nose wrinkled in disgust. Usualy she was pink from embarrassment, but now her skin was an even creamy color. Her breasts were beautifuly large with nipples the same color as her lips. His hands twitched with the need to touch. “You stil hungry?”

  Her gaze averted from the bloody mess, she shook her head. “I m
ay never eat again.”

  He nodded and shifted to a wolf, pausing long enough to finish off the rat. Nice appetizer—although from the way the little wolf’s ears flattened, she probably wouldn’t invite him to lunch now.

  * * *

  Bree folowed Zeb across the smal creek toward her cabin. Her muscles felt warm and happy from the run. Lifting her nose, she checked the air. Wood smoke from the lodge, the lingering fragrance of oatmeal from breakfast, a rodent-something from the corner bush. Even as her ears pricked forward, she told herself, no more rats. Ever. Ew.

  As she shifted to human, the wind whipped around her body, making her far too aware of her lack of clothes.

  Apparently, shifters didn’t worry about the nakedness stuff.

  But she did. She put a hand on the doorknob, intent on getting into the jeans and shirt she’d left right inside.

  “Wait, Bree.”

  “Wait, Bree.”

  She turned.

  Stil naked, Zeb walked over, close enough that his heat radiated to her through the chiling afternoon air. His skin held a dark fragrance, overwhelmingly masculine.

  She took a step back and bumped into the closed door.

  “Um. What?”

  Muscles rippled along his arms and shoulders as he set one hand on the wal and leaned on it. Under black chest hair, scars ran over his skin in various patterns—and her bely clenched as she realized some must be from helhound claws.

  He’d said he and Shay fought the monsters, that they were cay-heers, cahirs, who guarded the Daonain. She’d have to ask more about that…sometime.

  Lower down, his stomach had those six-pack muscles the men liked to boast about, and his guy package was—she jerked her gaze back up. Heat flooded her cheeks.

  He didn’t say anything, but his expression had changed to that of a man looking at a woman he wanted.

  “Um, did you want something?” Duh, bad way to phrase that. “To tel me something?”

  He studied her face, making her even more nervous.

  “Don’t forget tonight. The alpha is holding a run to introduce you to the pack.”

  “I remember.” A social event. A bunch of wolfy shifters out for a night jog. Only, she’d be naked if she trawsfurred.

  out for a night jog. Only, she’d be naked if she trawsfurred.

  A shiver of unease ran through her. “The alpha is, like, boss wolf?”

  The corner of his mouth turned up. “Just like. His name’s Gerhard.

  German? One of the waitresses had been German. A real sweetie. And a pack sounded nice. Like an instant family.

  She missed having women around. But there would be men she didn’t know. “Wil they…bother me? The men?” Make advances. Rape?

  When he lightly rubbed his knuckles over her cheek, the sensation tingled through her. “No. We don’t have enough females. You are cherished. Protected.”

  “What about s-sex?”

  “You ever going to tel me what happened?” Never. She shook her head.

  His mouth tightened, then he said, “For sex, a female must want it or nothing happens.”

  Was he joking? “Fine, then there should be no problem.” Too aware of how close he was, she tried to push him back.

  Under her palm, his skin stretched tightly over rock-hard chest muscles. He felt so warm. She snatched her hand back.

  “I don’t like men. I’m gay.”

  His nostrils flared, and amusement lightened his eyes. “No, you’re not.”

  “Oh, like you w-would know.” Her voice cracked.

  “Oh, like you w-would know.” Her voice cracked.

  “I can smel your interest, little female.” Her heart was pounding. “I’m not interested in you.”‘

  “Don’t lie.”

  “I—”

  He kissed her. A light brushing of his warm lips against hers. He paused and did it again, leaning closer.

  As the silky hair on his chest feathered against her breasts, she caught her breath. “Get back.”

  “No.” He cupped her face in his powerful hands and took her lips, then her mouth, plunging his tongue in to take possession.

  She shivered, unnerved by the disconcerting sensations running through her. Her skin felt sensitive, tight, wanting to be touched…and he did.

  As his tongue explored her mouth, he stroked his hands up her bare waist and ribs. His thumbs grazed the sides of her breasts.

  Her breath caught in her throat as her bones melted like butter in a hot pan.

  He took the kiss deeper before he puled back. “Not interested, huh.” His voice had deepened to a rasp.

  “I—” Oh God, she could feel dampness on her inner thighs. She looked toward the forest. Run run run.

  He put his thumb under her chin to tilt her face up. To force her to look at him. When his eyes caught hers, the force her to look at him. When his eyes caught hers, the ground under her bare feet shifted. “You’re not gay, Bree.” He ran a hand down her arm, and his fingers closed around her wrist. Firmly.

  “Zeb. Wait.”

  “If a female is interested, her scent changes.” His long hair brushed over her arm as he lifted her wrist to his face and sniffed. “A male can smel it.”

  “On her wrist?” Get real.

  “On skin. Anywhere. We’re part-animal—scent is important.” His lips quirked. “But, rather than sniffing asses, we settle for wrists. More polite, don’t you think?” The thought of his head going anywhere near her groin made her quiver inside. “Uh. Yes. Polite is good.” His other hand stil rested on her ribs, his thumb stroking gently over the side of her breast, making heat flare in her low bely. His gaze showed his satisfaction. “Your mind may not want me, little female, but your body does.” After running one finger over her dampened lower lip, he took a few steps back, blurred, and shifted into his dark wolf. He glanced over his shoulder with gray-brown eyes, then loped into the forest.

  The air brushed across her skin, startlingly cold after the heat of his body. Her bones felt as if they’d turned to custard, and she sagged against the door. Her breasts ached as if her skin had shrunk. So this was what arousal felt like. God help me.

  me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  A pack run was a party on four legs, Bree thought, as she happily trotted along near the rear. They’d hunted a deer earlier, shared the spoils, and as long as she didn’t think about eating raw bloody meat, it had tasted wonderful. Deer tartare—far better than rat.

  The pack turned, flowing across the slope. Her blood sang in her veins as she breathed in the cold night air, scenting the different wolves, her shoulder brushing against the others. A feeling of belonging grew in her, filing the holow spaces in her heart.

  The pack stopped on a ridge overlooking the forest. An owl slowly flapped over the dark trees. Drifts of snow glinted white in the moonlight.

  The alpha wolf, Gerhard, barked twice before lifting his nose and giving a long slow howl. His brothers, Klaus and Dieter, joined in, then the rest of the wolves. Bree caught the dark fragrance of Zeb and the crisper scent of Shay as they moved up beside her. Shay’s muzzle lifted, and his howl was resonant and beautiful. Zeb joined him, his voice deeper and rougher.

  Compeled, Bree tried. A bark first, then the song caught her, puling her with it, higher, beautiful. The quarter moon shone down, silvering the dark and light fur. If she’d been in human form, she’d have cried for the beauty. Instead, she sank into the whole. I’m alive, and here is where I belong.

  As the howls faded away, the alpha trotted down the slope, wending his way back into the forest. The pack streamed behind him.

  Bree began to folow, then realized Zeb and Shay hadn’t moved. As Zeb sniffed the air, Bree imitated him and caught a foul scent. Hellhound. The fur on her ruff rose, even as a fearful whine escaped her.

  Shay started in the direction of the scent, but hesitated. He looked at Zeb, then her. As if he’d spoken, she knew he’d told Zeb to stay with her. But, what if there was a helhound close?
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  She shifted, pleased at how easy it was. “Don’t you dare go by yourself. Take the pack.”

  Shay’s ears went back and he growled. For a second, he scared her. Then he shook his head as if to dislodge a fly and looked like her sweet Elvis again.

  Boy, oh boy, he sure didn’t like the idea of taking the pack after a helhound. But he couldn’t handle a monster by himself. If he got hurt because of her… She turned to Zeb.

  himself. If he got hurt because of her… She turned to Zeb.

  “You both go. I’l hang out with the others.” Shay didn’t move.

  She sighed. “I’l stay on the trail with the slow wolves.” Although running with the younger ones was more fun. She was faster than most of them.

  No movement.

  Bree crossed her arms over her breasts, startled at the feeling of naked skin. “Zeb said that this is your cay-heer job. So go to it.”

  Shay’s ears flattened—Mr. Bossy didn’t like taking orders

  —then his tail waved slightly.

  And she scores a win! Grinning, Bree shifted.

  As if teling her to be careful, Zeb shouldered her and licked her muzzle in a way that made her insides quiver.

  Taking his place, Shay nipped her ear in admonishment and licked her nose. His scent wrapped around her like a blanket of arousal.

  Whoa, she needed to get away from them before she melted like snow in the sun. With a yip, she dashed after the pack.

  After catching up, she took a place in the rear with the older wolves. The lovely song from the ridge stil hummed in her veins as they wound through the mountains, climbed a steep trail, and crested into an open area. The wolves formed a circle, and Bree joined the cluster of females.

  a circle, and Bree joined the cluster of females.

  Overhead, clouds skittered in front of the quarter moon, and shadows slid across the dark dead grasses. The pack was silent. So what would happen now? Bree’s tail drooped with her uncertainty. Darn it, she liked things to be consistent.

  Routine. Or at least to know what was planned.

  The alpha stepped into the center of the circle and shifted to human. The rest of the wolves folowed suit. Except for Bree. Naked in a crowd? Not happening.