Twisted (4 page)

Smiling, he loped through his two-story cabin to the back porch. The woman sat on his porch swing, bare foot pushing off the wooden planks to stay in motion. She stared at the rippling river and overgrown grass, lifting her gaze to the sprawling forest on the other side. Curly brown hair cascaded to the middle of her back, wild and free like the woman.

Pale skin covered delicate features, and her pretty brown eyes had the power to stop him cold. Although she’d trained with vampires for a decade, she was finely toned, but not muscled. The wolf had always been petite and rather delicate.

Not that she had ever admitted that fact.

The sight of her in his domain hit him square in the chest.

He’d fallen for the clever wolf the first time she’d outmaneuvered him during the hunt. Then the months they’d spent together had captured him for all time. The smart-ass owned him . . . body and soul.

And he was just fine with that.

As a wolf, as a hunter, he knew how to stalk. How to take his time and win. Ten years was a long enough time to plan and allow her to breathe. It was now over.

Slowly, so as not to spook her, he strode forward and dropped onto the swing. His hips easily fit, but his shoulders nearly knocked her off. So he stretched an arm along the back, bringing her close.

Close enough to smell vanilla and woman. Her scent made his mouth water. His cock hardened.

The night pinpointed in focus until he had identified every sound, every scent, every possible threat out there. Clearly and unequivocally. A male wolf ’s instincts when his female was near.

She kept her gaze on the moonlit forest. “I like your cabin.”

“Thank you.” He tried to keep his chest from puffing out.

Making her happy warmed him.

Her bare feet stretched against the wood. “I’m surprised you have a permanent home. I mean, with you being the head of the Bane’s Council.”

He took over the swinging, eyes glued to the hot red pol-ish on her toes. Sexy. Definitely sexy. “I’ve headed the Council for three centuries, always moving, always hunting.

When you live on the move, you need someplace to call home every once in a while.” Wolf-shifters lived in packs, and the Raze pack led them all. He liked the Raze pack, and he had several friends in the area. More important, Washington State was a safe place to put his mate while he hunted.

She turned to look at him, her eyes deep pools of chocolate. “You don’t have any family?”

“Nope.” Except her.

She nodded. “Me, either.”

He planned to change that.

The moon rose higher in the sky. “Would you like to run, little wolf ?” he asked.

Yearning filled Maggie along with trepidation. Yes, she wanted to run. The moon was high and the forest inviting.

But she’d never run with another wolf. At least, she didn’t remember running with wolves. What if she was slow? Or clumsy? Or what if she’d forgotten something every wolf knew?

For so long she’d been only able to shift under the full moon because the Kurjans had infected her with the damn virus. Even after a cure for shifters had been found, she hadn’t bounced back as quickly as other shifters. But now, finally, she could shift on command. Unfortunately, she sometimes had problems keeping the shape. “I, ah, I’m not sure.” There.

She’d said it.

He stretched to his feet, uncoiling all that strength in a lazy move. His shirt landed on the swing, and his jeans hit the porch.

Her mouth dropped open. Nude, lit by the moon, Terrent Vilks was all hard, all muscle, all
male
.

He grinned. “Take your time and think about it. I’ll go scout the other side of the river.” Turning, he leaped across the small yard, shifting into a massive brown wolf before touching the ground and hurtling across the water.

She couldn’t jump that far. Standing, she squinted into the night. A large, flat rock sat in the middle of the river at the perfect distance for her. Terrent was sure a planner. Indecision shuffled her feet.

Then her shoulders went back, and her spine stiffened.

She could do this.

She kicked off her jeans and tossed off her shirt.

Energy spiraled through her. Her hands elongated, and then her arms stretched wide. Fire rippled down her spine.

She dropped to all fours. Her jaw cracked, bones re-formed, and fur sprang up on her body. Freedom soared inside her veins. A hundred sounds hit her just before a thousand smells filled her nose.

One smell jerked her head up.

Male. The scent of night and musk. Terrent.

She padded along the grass until reaching the river. Bunching her back legs, she jumped for the rock, touched down, and soared to the other side.

She skidded in the reeds, sniffing to find him. His scent was everywhere, but she couldn’t hear him. Her nose down, she followed his trail, going in circles.

Where the heck was he?

Suddenly, four hundred pounds of muscle and fur hit her, sending her rolling end over end. She jumped to her feet and snarled. He gave her the canine equivalent of a smile, turned, and ran.

She yipped and bounded after him. So the wolf liked to play, huh?

Increasing her speed, she jumped, stretched her whole body, and landed square on his back, digging in her claws.

He growled and skidded to a stop.

Her yowl echoed off trees as she flew through the air.

Twisting mid-flight, she landed on all fours. A wet nose snorted into her ear. She turned and batted his face.

With a head-butt to her flank, he flipped around and rushed between two trees. She followed, emitting an excited yip.

They played for hours. Through trees, along the river, up a rocky mountain. Wild smells filled her world, spicier than the ones in Oregon. Finally, he led her up an outcropping, sharp and jagged, where the smells turned fresher and sweeter. She picked her way carefully, her paws not accus-tomed to the craggy rock.

A trembling started in her back paws and wandered up her hind legs.

Oh no
.

She blew air from her nose and tried to shove down panic.

Her ears went numb. She glanced down at the ground twenty feet below, swiveling her head to see the wolf above her. A panicked whine sailed out with her breath.

Terrent glanced down, golden eyes wild in the night.

She searched for a ledge. Nothing was large enough to hold her human body.

Closing her eyes, she tried to stop the change.

With the softness of a whisper, her body shifted from animal to woman. Her nails clawed into the rock even as she began to fall. Her eyelids flew open to see a powerful wolf lunge straight at her from above.

Terrent made the split decision to shift from wolf to man just in time to smack into the woman and start twisting through the air. He timed the movements so he’d hit first, calculating the distance and ground cover. Tucking her close, he allowed his right shoulder to impact, immediately rolling over several times and keeping her off the ground. The pain didn’t hit until they’d finally stopped.

Agony burst like fire through his shoulder.

He took a deep breath, mentally dispatching healing cells to the muscles and tendons.

She shuddered on top of him, her heart beating so hard he could feel it on his chest. The woman levered herself up, tears streaming down her face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Straddling him, she patted his chest, his stomach, his face. “I’m sorry.”

God, she was cute.

Her breasts glowed in the moonlight, and she was sitting smack on his cock.

Suddenly, he forgot all about his shoulder. “Why did you shift?”

“I couldn’t help the change.” She ran her palms down his arms, obviously searching for injuries. “I’m still regaining my strength from having the virus for so long, and sometimes I can’t hold the wolf form.”

His eyebrow lifted. “Maybe you should’ve told me that before we climbed rocks.”

“Um, yeah.” She bit her lip. “But I was having so much fun. You don’t like heights, anyway, so I wouldn’t have thought to tell you.”

“I don’t mind rocky hills when I’m in wolf form. But flying? Or climbing trees? Or, God forbid, high-rise buildings?

No way.” Then he waited for reality to hit her.

She finished patting him down and relaxed, her knees on either side of his hips. Straddling him. All movement stopped.

Her pretty brown eyes widened. A lovely pink flush rose from her breasts to her face.

Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating.

He expected her to scramble off him. To stutter. Instead, she tilted her head to the side and slowly, so damn slowly, flattened her palms against his chest. A low purr rumbled up from her abdomen.

A wolf who purred. His head might explode, she was so damn perfect.

She swallowed. “You’re naked.”

“So are you.”

She wiggled a little bit. Heat roared between his ears and down his spine. He grabbed her hips to hold her in place.

“Ah, don’t wiggle.”

Her blush strengthened to a red that had to burn. “Sorry.”

She didn’t look sorry. Heat lightened her brown eyes, and curiosity filled her expression. Wolves. Always curious.

She wasn’t the only one wondering.

He slid his palms up her flanks, ignoring the pull in his injured shoulder. It’d heal within minutes. Her skin was smooth and so damn soft. He remembered how soft. It had been hell leaving her in safety the last decade while he hunted the additional werewolves created during the war. He’d had a job to do, and he’d done it.

She ran her hands along his ribs, a small smile tilting her lips. “You’re so big.”

“Too big?”

“No. Just big.”

He outweighed her by a couple hundred pounds. When they’d dated before, she’d liked his size. Before she’d been taken and infected with a virus by their enemies. Did soldiers scare her now? Rage ripped through him, but he forced his anger down. “I won’t hurt you.”

She nodded, absorbed in watching her hands drive him crazy. “Why the one fang?”

“Huh?” His anger dissipated in a flash.

“The one fang mark on my butt. You have two fangs.”

Oh. “I had broken one off in a fight with a werewolf earlier that day. It took about a week to grow back.” Probably a good thing, too, or he would’ve marked her. Not that he wasn’t going to soon.

“Oh.” Her gaze met his, and she blinked. “Well, ah . . .”

She bit the inside of her lip and looked away.

“What, Maggie?” He tried to gentle his voice, but her tight little body on him had the words emerging guttural.

“I don’t remember how to do this,” she whispered, her gaze on his collarbone.

His heart flipped over. Jesus. She might as well cut it out and wear it for a hat. The little organ—and anything else he had—belonged to her. The sexy, cunning, pretty little wolf had a sweetness to her that shocked him, considering what she’d gone through. He wanted that sweetness to wrap around him and never let go.

His hold tightened. “Wanna learn?”

Maggie’s grin flashed adorable dimples. “Yeah, I want to learn.” She tucked her chin. “But just because I like you, and I want fun. No marking, no mating, and no forever.” She sighed. “A bunch of my friends are now mated because the vampires never seem to understand that kind of thing.”

Neither did wolves. “I won’t push you tonight.” Tomorrow was fair game.

“Maybe I’ll push you.” She licked her lips.

There was the tough wolf he’d spent months chasing so long ago. Smart and tough. And so fragile his skin burned to protect her. He held no illusions about himself—he’d trained and worked as a killer for centuries. He’d rip apart anybody who dared threaten her. It wouldn’t be easy being his mate.

“Good thing you’re a strong wolf,” he mused.

She frowned. “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome.” He stamped down on impatience. No way would he scare her now. “I remember your body. Well.”

Her chin went up in challenge . . . and delight. “Prove it.”

“Well—” he drifted his hands over to cover her breasts, her hard nipples sending fire through his palms to his cock.

“You have very sensitive nipples.”

She hummed, her lids half-closing as she pressed into his hold.

“And—” he tugged both nipples with a pinch—“you like a bit of bite.”

She gasped, her eyes went wide, and she grabbed his wrists. More important, she dampened his cock. Yeah, she was getting wet.

He kept his hold firm and absolute. “Put your hands back down.” Doubt clouded her face. “Now.” His order held the tone of an Alpha this time.

She hesitated, and he pinched harder.

The slap of her hands on his chest echoed around the forest.

He allowed the wolf to dance under his skin. Her pupils dilated, and she got even wetter. Surprise, confusion, and raw need spun across her face like an emotional slide show.

She was perfect for him—now to prove it to her.

His hands flattened out, and he soothed the ache, feeling her soft moan against his groin. Then he rolled them over and changed their positions, his hands on her breasts, his body over hers as he pressed her into the soft leaves. Her nails bit into his shoulders.

He growled low. “Put your legs around my hips.”

Indecision filled her eyes. Then she spread her legs, bend-ing her knees, her thighs sliding against his. Sure, she’d challenge him . . . and soon. But she wasn’t there yet.

He settled more comfortably against her, stretching her hands above her head. “I want you open.”

A shudder wound through her. One palm cradled the other one above her head, scraping those pretty breasts against his chest. Her wide eyes watched him warily, her body vibrating with need. The demand to claim her, to take her, ripped through him with desperate claws. Keeping his face calm, he tamped down on lust. For now.

Female wolves were crazy dangerous. This one probably more than most—even more than she knew. He could match her. He could protect her. This was the first step in proving it to her. Again.

So he dropped his head to nuzzle her neck in the way of their people. She sighed, relaxing into the ground. He bit where her neck met her shoulder, clamping down just enough to taste blood, but not enough to mark. She tasted like sex and honey . . . all his. She stiffened and arched against him, rubbing her clit against his aching cock. Wetness coated him.