Change For Me (Werewolf Romance) (The Alpha's Kiss) (8 page)

Damon laughed under his breath.

“That’s... yeah, I mean,” Caitlyn was obviously terrified. “I can’t ask for anything else. Th – thanks.”

As Caitlyn ran back to her BMW, Lily’s scowl deepened and she went inside, slamming the door.

When everyone was gone and the world went quiet again, something horrible started running through Damon’s mind. If Craig Willis saw he and Devin fighting, and if no one had seen Devin since, was his worst fear possible?

“No,” he said, pounding his fist into the dirt.

“No, no, no,” he grunted, scratching the ground.

Blood pounded in Damon’s head, his temples throbbing and his forehead full of pain, of fury, of rage. It was too much. The stress, the worry over Lily and over Devin; it became too much right at that second.

Damon’s legs twisted, his head bent back and hard, wiry fur sprouted from the pores covering every inch of his skin. He scratched the ground until his hands – his claws he realized when he looked down – ached.

And then a moment later, Damon King began to shake, and collapsed.

As his consciousness faded into oblivion, the last thing he thought as a human was of what Poko told him. Without his spirit bond, without the mate destined for him from before either of them was born, he would be lost to the rage, the fury, the darkness, forever.

––––––––

“W
here are you going so early?” I asked grandpa as he blew some steam off the top of his so-sweet-it’s-tan coffee. “Sun’s barely up.” That was a
little
bit of a stretch. Clock on the wall said half past nine.

I still shook from the battle I had with Caitlyn Hodges the day before, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t get her out of my head. Then on top of that, the dreams I kept having – if that’s really what they were – never left me alone for long.

There was another one last night, though a little different. I was in a cave, or a grotto or something, and there was the one wolf, I kept seeing, but also a very old one. The two seemed to be talking, or, I dunno, discussing me.

They kept glancing over in the direction where I lay or, I guess hovered, a few inches off the ground. I wasn’t able to move, but it wasn’t a fearful sort of paralysis, mostly just a
present
one. In the dream it all made sense, like there was some kind of ritual that needed to be done.

No fear, no uncertainty, none of the normal things that bothered me on an almost daily basis. That was something at least.

The last frame, or scene, or whatever you want to call it of the dream was frenzied and wild, just like the first one, except it felt more natural to have this massive wolf push me to the floor. Only that time the monster didn’t go quite as far as he did the first time... or he didn’t before the kettle whistled and woke me up.

Life’s full of little regrets, I guess
. I giggled to myself.

“Business in town,” grandpa said after a few moments’ pause. “Farmer’s market, then going to the YMCA for a few hours, you know, to loiter and be a general no-good.”

No good... so good.
Something stirred in my brain, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. I rubbed my eyes. “Sounds fun, are you –”

“Nope,” he slid the keys across the table. “Evelda’s picking me up in three minutes. No, four minutes. Although probably she won’t show up for eight.” Grandpa cracked a wry grin.

We sat in silence for a moment before he pushed his coffee toward me, into a semi-circle made by the keys spreading around its base. “You look like you need this more than I do. You were carrying on all night, sounded like nightmares. Runs in the family, I think. Sorry about that.”

“Sorry?” I asked. “For what? I didn’t –”

“It was a joke, Leroy. I used to get horrible nightmares, and last night you were moaning and groaning just like I always did, so I apologized.”

“Oh,” my voice sunk into my chest as more memories surface. Memories of the werewolf, or whatever I was supposed to call him, with his teeth on my neck, his claws dragging my skin. A hot flush crept up my back right where he’d scratched, almost like it was real.

A horn honking outside broke my trance. “Oh!” I sat up and opened my eyes as wide as they’d go. “I drifted off there for a second. But no.” I patted his hand, softly rubbing the thin, aged skin. “Everybody gets nightmares, right? I doubt you had anything to do with mine.”

He stared at me with a strange, knowing look. “Gotta go,” he said as he stood. “Be careful on those back roads, Lily. They get wet this time of year. It’s easy to lose track of the ground and take a tumble.” I swear I heard his voice quail when he kissed the top of my head, but it wasn’t until he was out of the door and halfway down the driveway by the time I figured out what he’d actually said.

Careful of what?

With no conscious thought, I collected the keys and headed straight for the Bronco, which I was reasonably sure was older than me. A name touched the tip of my tongue as I turned the key and the ancient engine groaned, sputtered, and finally kicked to life. That’s all it was though, a hint of a name that faded as soon as I focused.

Fading as soon as I focused? It couldn’t be, could it? I shook my head, still not sure why I was doing what I was doing, but kept on nonetheless. My tires crunched over a flat bit of desert. The ground was so hard there wasn’t much use for a road, so I just drove straight to the woods, ignoring the asphalt.

All because of a vision I had, a ridiculous fantasy that I never would have had if I just went and got myself a boyfriend!
No, it wasn’t a vision, I don’t have visions – no one does. It was a dream
.

If it was a dream, and that’s all it was, then why had I driven all the way out and up Carey’s Bluff, twenty or thirty miles, with no reason for doing so? What was happening to me? Something as unavoidable, as invisible and as powerful as gravity pulled me out of my car and as soon as my feet crunched on the dry grass that rimmed the bluff and I started up the hiker’s path to the top, that sweet, familiar tingle rose up again deep between my legs.

It felt like something was pulling me,
calling me
, toward the top of the bluff. It all felt very unreal as I moved along the path, as though I were in a waking dream, not in control of my actions.

A sound – no, not a sound, a sense – followed me for a time. Every time I turned when I heard a rustling of sage brush, or a crunch of gravelly sand, there was nothing.

Nothing. There’s absolutely nothing out here. No birds, no lizards, no people
.

The only thing accompanying me on my slow descent was a broken memory... strange memories, of the night before, and of the wolf on top of the bluff.

And then another rustling sound caught my attention, but that time when I turned, two pale yellow eyes that seemed to materialize from nowhere pierced my very soul.

“What... what are you?” I reached out my hand with open, shaking fingers.

His fur slid between them, copper, then black, then silver as the sun struck his back, he turned slowly and pulled his lips back in a silent snarl. I jerked my hand away, terrified at his sudden aggression, and he did the same. Again his lips pulled away from terrible, finger-long teeth, but I didn’t feel fear that time like I had when he did the same thing a moment before.

“May I?” I reached out again, but tentatively kept my groping fingers a few inches form his fur.

The beast lay down and cocked his head.

What am I doing? There’s a wolf... staring at me, and I’m asking his permission to have a feel? What’s going on?

Another snapshot of my dream rolled through my mind at just that moment. It was just one word,
mate
that came to me, and I didn’t know why. Not right then, anyway.

He let out a soft whimpering sound and tilted his head in the other direction. I don’t know why, but it seemed like he was giving me permission. I reached out again, my trembling fingers warmed by his flame-and-copper fur. Through my fingers, it almost burned with warmth. I curled them, scratching him gently, and then flattened my palm against his back.

Pure, hard, muscle.

“They travel as far as they have to go to find their soul mates, or whatever you want to call them.” Soul mates
rolled around in my head and I felt a quick swoon before I braced myself on the monster’s back and he stood to support my weight.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “This isn’t possible. You can’t exist, you can’t be real.” My lips started to quiver just like my fingers had moments before.  But no matter how hard I tried to convince myself that the wolf – the unearthly large, powerful wolf – under my sweaty palm wasn’t real, there he was, staring at me with those big, pale, soulful eyes. “Grandpa said... he couldn’t possibly have known about you. He was just making up a story.”

The wolf, standing then, with his head almost the same height as my shoulders, groaned and then nipped softly at my hand a couple of times. I giggled, moving my hand just at the last second, and stroked his snout.

“You’re not supposed to be this big,” I said. “Something’s not right here...”

That’s when I first had the chance to look straight into his eyes. Mesmerized for a second, when I came back to myself, I saw that they weren’t really anything like I’d witnessed. Up close, there were flecks of black, gold, and brown in the yellow discs of his irises. I’d seen wolves before in zoos plenty of times, so I knew they had weird eyes, but these were... different. Like flames that sparkled in the sun.

I drew closer, bending my head just to his level. The scent that wafted off his fur – the smell of dust and raw, animal musk – along with the tensing, flexing muscles of his legs and shoulders were just too much. It was all too much, too unreal.

He pulled away, dragging my open palm along his heavy fur, and took two steps further up the path. I followed, and when I was nearing, he took three more.

“What is it?” I asked aloud. “Do you want me to follow? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

At the end of a short sprint of not more than ten or fifteen yards, the wolf looked back at me and let out a short burst of sound, not a bark, not really. It sounded like a mixture of a grunt and a howl and even a little bit like a word, like when someone coughs and says ‘hey!’ at the same time.

I trotted along after him, oblivious to the surrounding world. Another vision I had the night before came to me then. I remembered feeling the monster in my dreams, and how at the moment of his climax, his fur shrank away revealing a hard, muscled body, more man than wolf.

Up, up, up we went. Sweat ran down my chest, wetting my white undershirt and making it stick.

There was nothing at all in the entire world except for me, and the unnaturally large wolf that I followed up the hill. He’d run, look back and pause, wait for me to follow him and get almost close enough to touch before darting away again and starting all over.

On and on until half the bluff was underneath us. Always going up, though sometimes fast and sometimes slow, but always up.

Until he stopped.

Turning to face me slowly, the great wolf stared at me, driving holes through me with his gaze.

“What is it?” I asked as I trotted to a stop only a few feet from him. “Is something the matter?”

His answer was another cock of his head, followed by a groaning howl that chilled me to the bones. The sound bashing my ears was so loud, so powerful that I could hardly stand it. That is, until the pain in my ears turned to warmth in my belly that trickled down further and further.

“What are you doing to me?” I said in a breathy whisper. “How are you making me feel like... no,” I said. “This can’t be real. This isn’t possible. No, no, no!”

Slowly, patiently, almost like he was waiting for me to come to my own conclusion about him, the wolf padded next to me and lowered his head, nudging my hand and nipping again. My fingers trickled down in front of his mouth and danced across those long, sharp teeth.

I was stunned. I couldn’t move, could barely think. I knew I needed to get away, but at the same time, I
didn’t
want to get away. Words like
prophesy
and
destiny
and
soul mate
swam in my head. Suddenly, my hand was back on the beast’s neck. I curled my fingers and somehow, the fur felt shorter than it had the last time I touched.

“Oh my God,” I said. “You’re changing, you’re...” A handful of flaming copper came off in my hand, but when I went to drop it, instead of blowing out of my palm, it vanished as soon as the long, thick hairs tasted wind. “What are you?”

“Po... ko... spoke...”

My eyes got so wide I thought they’d fall out. “Did you just answer me?”

“Can’t... speak... too painful,” he gasped, jaws clenching and relaxing with each word. “Need... you...”

“Me?” I touched him again, pulling away another handful of vanishing fur. With a start, I felt the taut muscles on his neck grow harder, thicker, bigger and fuller underneath my palm.

I was absolutely burning by then. That sweet ache between my legs that flared every time I remembered more of my dream was deep seated, twisting and wrenching me, sending fingers of warm pleasure from my core to every inch of my body. When next I felt him, I ran my hand from his shoulder down to his chest.

“Not... long...” he groaned. “Can’t... control... Augh! No! Trying to fight! I can’t!”

He threw his head back and forth, thrashing out of control so hard I thought he’d break his own neck. Snarls ripped through him, followed by yelps and pained groaning. He fell to his side, twisted in one direction then the other.

“Must... take! Must take... you!”

There it was. The one word I’d forgotten from the dream. The most important word. Really, it was the only one that mattered at all.

Every shred of sense in me said to run, to turn around and bolt and never look back.

“Go!” he urged. “I’ll come... for... you when I,” he paused, gasped breaths rattling his chest. “I’ll come when... I can... control...”

And then, an instant later, he was back to his feet, shoulders clenched up. He was the embodiment of rage, of fury, every inch of him twitching as he tried to control whatever was welling up inside.