Shadow of the Wolf

“You’re a wizard!”

He blinked. So what? “I’m also a werewolf.”

She waved that away, like it was nothing. “I’m a witch!”

“And?”

“Witches and wizards don’t marry!”

“Mate.”

She glared at him. “We’d kill each other inside of a week, and you know it.”

“No I don’t.” He was beginning to enjoy the sight of her pacing, waving her arms, the ends of the suit jacket flapping at the tips of her fingers. Each stride revealed a lovely length of leg that had him practically drooling.

“You’re too rigid.”

“Damn straight.” He was becoming so rigid it was beginning to be uncomfortable.

“I’m … what did you say?”

“Hmm? Oh. Nothing. Continue, please.”

“You’ll think I’m too flighty.”

“Mm-hmm.”

She waved her arms, the bottom of the jacket hitting the very tops of her thighs. His knees wobbled when a slight glimpse of her pussy teased him before her arms lowered.

“The first time I cast a spell you’d feel the urge to “correct” me.”

“And the first time you saw me turn into a wolf?” He nearly fell out of his chair when she made a rude sound. “That … doesn’t bother you?”

She looked confused. “Why would it?”

“Why would … woman, do you have any idea how many potential partners have turned me down when they hear my last name?” Christopher stalked closer to her, aware he sounded enraged. In some ways he was. The defining characteristic of his family, the one that he always thought would be a sticking point for any potential bride, and she dismissed it like it was nothing, harping instead on the fact that he was a wizard?

Her low mutter almost got lost in his low growl. “Oh, sure, throw your conquests in my face.”

He cupped a hand to his ear. “Care to repeat that?”

She snarled at him. “Look, Captain Oblivious. Witch. Wizard. Oil. Water.”

“Werewolf.” He cupped her chin, enjoying the way her eyes went wide. “Tasty morsel.” He leaned down and licked her neck. He damn near groaned. She tasted incredible.

“I’m not entirely certain I’m on the menu yet.”

He smiled against her neck. “You said yet.”

“Tricky dog,” she grumbled.

He laughed, pulling her into his arms. He lifted his head to stare down into her sulky face. “How about a trial run?”

“You don’t even know my name.”

“Alannah Evans.”

She smacked him in the arm. Hard.

“Ow!”

“How do you know that? Your spell?”

Well, maybe one little lie wouldn’t hurt. “Yes.”

“Uh-huh.” Her eyes narrowed. “Where’s my purse?”

Busted. “In the great room.”

“And did it just happen to fall open at some point in the last twelve hours?”

“Possibly.” He made sure he had a good hold of her waist and prepared to throw his thigh in the way of any wandering knees.

When she growled at him, he had to laugh. She sounded so fiercely cute. Not that he’d tell her that. He was a smart man, and enjoyed living with both his balls intact.

“Alannah, I just wanted to know your name.”

“Congratulations, now you know. Give me my clothes.”

He sighed. “I didn’t get to finish my story last night. Would you like to hear it over breakfast?”

“With my clothes?”

He rolled his eyes. “All right. I’ll return with them shortly.” He walked to the door of the bedroom. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“You really enjoy ordering me to stay, don’t you?” He snorted, amused. She crossed her arms, the long ends of his suit jacket flapping over her arms, the edge of the jacket creeping up her thighs. “Besides, unlike some people I know, running around naked in the woods is not my idea of a good time.”

He allowed a slow smile to cross his face at the thought of her running naked through his forest. His gaze ate her up from top to bottom, remembering the look of her dashing through his bedroom. “That’s too bad.”

Her face was flushed, her expression a mixture of embarrassment and heat. “Clothes, perv!”

He laughed softly and walked out of the bedroom, ignoring her mutters. He returned swiftly with her clothes, hoping to catch one more glimpse of creamy thigh. He’d taken the time last night to make sure her outfit was clean and dry, knowing she’d more than likely want her clothes. He, on the other hand, would be more than happy to keep her naked for the rest of her life.

He handed her clothes to her with a small bow. “Here you are, m’lady.”

She took them, smiling warily. “Thanks.” She gestured towards the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.” She headed for the bathroom, giving him an unreadable look before closing the door behind her.

Christopher settled into one of the chairs by the small table, filling his plate with food. She might not be hungry, but he was starving.

She came out a few minutes later dressed in everything but the poncho, socks and boots she’d been wearing the night before. “Thank you for washing my clothes.”

He smiled, trying to look harmless. “You’re welcome.” He stood and held out her chair. “Are you ready to finish breakfast?”

She studied him intently for a moment, the scrutiny making him vaguely uneasy, before settling daintily into the chair. “Thank you.” She took another bite of the cooling eggs, then a sip of the coffee. “Mmm. It’s good, even cold.” She smiled at him. “Now.

Forever mates. Ancestral curses. A daily yearning for Kibbles ‘n Bits.”

Christopher winced. “Hmm. Yes, where were we?”

“Let’s start with what makes you think I’m your mate and go from there.” She took a bite of crisp bacon, her eyes closing in pure pleasure. “Damn. Okay, for bacon this good you get to call me Lana.”

He swallowed hard. He wanted to see that look on her face while he fucked her into the mattress.

Her eyes opened and something of what he was feeling must have shown in his face, because she sat back, wiping the pleasure away with a quick shake of her head.

Christopher took a sip of his coffee, trying to ignore the way his hand trembled. He’d never wanted anyone so badly in his entire life. What made it worse was his wolf pushing him to pounce and mate. He was having a hard time resisting both his own instincts and his wolf’s. “About a month ago I cast a spell.”

“A love spell?” She was frowning at him now, her eyes turning hard.

He glared back. “Do I look like I want the universe to slap me upside the head?” Her expression eased. “Wizards follow the threefold rule as well, you know.” And one of the worst spells to cast was a spell that forced someone to do or be something they weren’t.

The Lord and Lady took a dim view to that sort of thing.

She had the grace to look sheepish. “Sorry.”

“The spell is one my ancestor came up with after several years of research. Each Beckett male, when … certain feelings become overwhelming, gather the ingredients, place the Beckett ring in the circle, and cast the spell.”

“The Beckett ring?”

“It’s the ring my great-grandfather used in the spell to call his mate to him. It became my great-