Blackthorne, Fiona - Moonstruck [Blue Moon 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (16 page)

It was a sound that no human ears could catch. Hell, he wasn’t even sure it was a real sound. It was more like a roar of thick silence that drowned out all the other natural noises of raindrops on leaves, branches in the wind, and the thrash of the ocean. Whatever it was, his wolf instincts had him on his paws and ready to spring.

Then, he saw it. The shadows that were darker than the darkness of the night oiled up to the foundation of the house and seemed to soak into it. Every muscle in his body tensed, and a snarl snapped in his throat. He listened carefully, waiting for the first sound of trouble. He didn’t have to wait long.

There was the sound of doors being flung open and china crashing. He barely registered Ava’s sob as he launched himself at the front door of her cottage, desperate to get inside and protect her. A red haze blurred his vision as he threw his massive wolf body against the door over and over until the old latch finally gave way.

His rage fired his muscles and spilled out in growls and snarls at the black shadows that oozed over all the cabinets and across the floor to where Ava lay in a shivering, terrified, huddled heap. With a single bound, he landed in front of her, his posture tense and ready for the attack that he knew was coming.

The shadows gathered and swelled, forming a giant, grave-cold wave that rushed at him and Ava. He threw back his head and howled, the sound waves of the high-pitched keening forming an invisible shield against the darkness. He felt his deep connection with the earth and all the things the wolf symbolized. All that was pure and wild and strong in nature was focused in his howl. He was a predator and a protector, fighting for human life, for the human soul, for his beloved mate. He was the guardian of all that was good, natural, and mortal. He was the guardian of Ava.

He reared his head and howled again, louder and stronger this time, love for his mate and righteous rage filling the sound with a force that propelled it forward into the shadows, pushing them back.

Within moments, other howls responded to him, echoing his rage and his strength. More howls joined from further off. Hundreds of wolves screamed at the sky to drive
Them
back into the forest. The heavy roar of silence lifted as the shadows slipped away, slithering back into the woods.

He sensed Ava behind him, trying to get to her feet. The smell of her terror was a heady cinnamon. Damn, she was beautiful even when frightened for her life, pale with wide eyes and trembling lips. She stumbled back from him, and he realized that she was more scared of him than of the shadows that she couldn’t see.

Slowly turning, he looked up at her, willing all his love into his eyes for her to see. He wanted so badly to shift back into his human form, take her in his arms, and bury himself inside her warmth, telling her how much he loved her and feeling her wrap her light limbs around his body. That would frighten her even more, though. She was not ready to find out about werewolves. She would have to, soon, but not tonight. Not so soon after an attack by
Them
.

Ava stood absolutely still, and he could smell the fear still rolling off her in thick waves. He considered her for a moment, trying to decide what to do. As a wolf facing down
Them
, he knew exactly what he was and what to do, letting his wild nature and feral instincts take over. As a wolf trying to tell the woman he loved not to be afraid of him, he was at a loss. Hmm. Maybe she was a dog person. She was definitely sweet and gentle enough to be a dog lover. It was utterly degrading to his wolfish dignity to act like a dog, but he needed her to trust him because there was no way he was leaving her side tonight, not after what had just happened, but he didn’t want her panicking all night because there was a wolf in the house.

With a shrug of his shaggy shoulders, he deliberately stretched out in a play bow then sat back down with his back legs splayed awkwardly like a puppy. He let his tongue loll out of his mouth and tried to grin.

He was rewarded with a slight twitch of a smile at the corners of her mouth, but still, she kept her distance. Dang it! Now, he was really going to have to play dog. He got up and walked over to her, sitting down right at her feet. He lifted his paw in the gesture of the “shake hands” trick. He felt that somewhere, some old, noble werewolf was turning in his grave. He tried again, gratified, if a little embarrassed that she finally got it and “shook” his paw.

“You…are a wolf,” she whispered, clearly confused but sounding less afraid.

He had to fight to keep from rolling his eyes at her grasp of the obvious. He had to be patient with her. She didn’t know, didn’t understand. He just prayed that Big Al and his brothers never found out what he had done to get Ava’s trust.

Gently, he licked her hand then bumped her fingers until his head was under the palm of her hand. Her soft little laugh thrilled his heart, and he nuzzled up against her hand as she cautiously began to stroke his head. Yes, she was definitely a dog person.

Hot damn! She was giving him an ear rub now! All his muscles relaxed as warm, buttered honey seemed to flow through his veins at her touch to his sensitive ears. Crap, now his hind leg was thumping like a fucking rabbit. So much for dignity. If she kept this up, he’d be showing her his belly, and then he’d
really
never live it down.

Carefully grabbing the hem of her sweater in his teeth, he tugged her over to the couch in front of the fire. He nudged her until she sat down on the couch, then he jumped up beside her. He was too large to sit in her lap, the whole werewolf thing making him larger, stronger, and heavier than nonmagical wolves. Still, he would milk this for all it was worth, and besides, the fire felt damn good.

He pawed at her arm until she began to pet him again, crooning low in his throat with pleasure. He nearly melted when she suddenly threw her arms around him and buried her face in his fur, sobbing. He nuzzled her hair with his snout and pawed at her arms in a clumsy, doglike attempt at a hug. His Ava needed him. The poor baby was overwrought from everything she had gone through over the past few days. The need to stay close to her and protect her nearly overwhelmed him and made him shift back, but he focused on keeping his wolf form. One massive revelation at a time, he thought, snuggling himself into her arms. Still, she liked him this way, even if she didn’t really know it was him. She wasn’t afraid. That was good. Just one step at a time.

Everything was going to be okay.

Chapter 15

Everything was not okay.

The last thing Ava remembered was climbing into bed and snuggling under the covers, with the wolf jumping up and circling three times before plopping himself down as close as possible to her. She had fallen asleep, too exhausted to think or even dream, only barely aware of the smell of damp dog next to her.

Now, she had opened her eyes to bright sunlight streaming in through the windows only to find a very naked and very sound asleep Sean Molineaux in her bed. He had wrapped himself around her, effectively pinning her under the covers. Between his body heat and the quilt and the residual warmth from the fire, Ava was getting uncomfortably hot. It was what had awakened her in the first place.

How the hell had Sean gotten into her bed? Where was her wolf? What had happened last night? She closed her eyes and tried to take a deep breath to calm herself down, but her lungs were too tight. Opening her eyes, she looked at Sean. Damn, he was handsome and had the sexiest body she had ever seen—except for Robert and Declan. Crap, all three of the brothers were to die for, even if they were all different. Robert was a mass of muscle, solid and broad like a brick wall. Declan was whipcord lean and lanky, with long limbs and straight lines. Sean had a working man’s muscles. Every inch of him was tight, and his arms, even at rest, bulged with muscles. There was a shadow of dark stubble across his chin, and he seemed to be smiling ever so slightly in his sleep.

Ava tried for another deep breath, this time to get her sudden, crazy lust under control. Sean must have felt her movement, because he tightened his arm around her. The movement drew her eyes to his arm, and she noticed the large tattoo on his shoulder. It was striking and beautiful, done in grays and whites.

Three gray wolves with burning golden eyes walked on either side and in front of a willowy woman dressed in a simple white gown. The woman had long brownish gray hair that looked as if it was blowing in a gentle breeze. Ava couldn’t help but gasp as she saw the tender pink skin and fresh black ink that arched above the older tattoo.

It was her name, done in archaic English script.

Sean had gotten her name tattooed on him, over this older picture that clearly meant something to him. Her heart lurched in trepidation of what this could possibly mean, but she also felt an irrational thrill at the thought that he felt the same connection to her that she did to him and his brothers.

The sands of her self slipped away as a wave of longing to be with all three of them washed over her. She wanted to be with them in bed, to make love with them, but also, to just spend time with them. She wanted to learn about them, walk with them, talk with them, go sailing, have picnics, and go out to dinner with them. She wanted to cuddle up with them and watch movies, or sit in companionable silence as she read her books.

The brutal yearning was too much to bear, too much to face down. Her heart constricted, and she felt as if it would break when her mind reminded her that these days of bliss were numbered. With a half-swallowed sob, she nuzzled against Sean’s naked chest, no longer caring how he got there, just grateful that he
was
there.

“Hey, baby,” he murmured, waking up. “What’s the matter? What’s wrong?”

“I get my kitchen exploded by a poltergeist, my door knocked in by a wolf that thinks he’s a dog, and I wake up to a naked man in my bed, and you want to know what’s the matter?”

“Baby, that’s not what’s bothering you,” Sean said, caressing her hair. “Look at me.”

Ava blinked hard to make sure there weren’t any tears in her eyes, then looked up into Sean’s beautiful golden eyes.

Golden eyes like a wolf.

What the fuck?

No, it couldn’t be. Shit like that didn’t happen. She was imagining things. She was going crazy with everything that had happened. This town and this cottage were just so seriously fucked up, and it was finally getting to her.

Sean Molineaux was not a wolf.

Was he?

No. Abso-fucking-lutely impossible.

She tried to look away, unable to bear those beautiful golden eyes and the crazy thoughts they inspired in her. Only, Sean wouldn’t let her. Gently, he touched her chin and nudged her face back to look at him.

“Baby.” He sighed. “I really want to make love to you right now. I mean badly. But, I guess I gotta wait because from the look on your face, you need some answers.”

“I’ve been needing answers for a while now,” she muttered, unable to tear her eyes away from him as he stood up, every inch of his magnificent body revealed. Her mouth went dry and tingles of pleasure and arousal danced in her nipples and sex. She sat up and was about to try and pull him back into bed because suddenly, making love to him was more important than answers.

“Try not to scream or faint, okay?” he asked. “Just remember, I won’t hurt you. Yes, this is real, and no, you’re not going crazy.”

He closed his eyes, and his body shuddered as ripples of muscles twitched under his skin. The transformation was too fluid, too fast for Ava to catch entirely. All she could be certain of was that Sean Molineaux had just turned into a wolf.

She was vaguely aware that her jaw was hanging open, but her mind had pretty much shut down because trying to accept the truth of what she had just seen had short-circuited her brain.

Against a mantra of
what-the-fuck-what-the-fuck-what-the-fuck
, memories played out of hearing hundreds of wolves howling, seeing the golden eyes and ice-blue eyes of all the men in town. Could it be? How was it possible? Her mind jumped to Aristide Molineaux and Ezra Barrows, then to the demons, then to Father Edlow, shying away from making the connections as if the links were white hot and burned her.

“I…I don’t understand,” she finally managed to stammer.

Sean-the-wolf jumped up on the bed and sat down. He leaned forward and softly nuzzled her cheek, tickling her with his coarse fur. She closed her eyes against the enormous impossibility of what she had to accept, and suddenly, she felt a shifting of weight on the bed, and it was stubble that rasped against her cheek now.