Werewolf in Alaska

“All right.” He pulled off his glasses and gazed at her with a troubled expression. “I’m upset, okay? Happy now?”

“Jake.” She put a soothing hand on his arm.

He stepped back. “Sorry, but I can’t think straight when you’re touching me.”

“Doesn’t that tell you anything?”

“Who knows? Do you think I haven’t wondered if this is some cosmic joke that the first female I have a real connection with happens to be human?”

He was beginning to tick her off with his one-note rant. “How about a cosmic gift? How about that positive interpretation, instead? How about we rejoice in the miracle of finding each other and figure out how we can be together?”

“And you’re so sure you’re ready for that?”

“I think I am, yes.”

“Let’s find out, shall we?” He shrugged out of the backpack and dropped it to the ground. Then he started stripping off his clothes with angry, jerky movements. “Let’s find out how you react to watching a man change into a wolf right in front of your eyes.”

Rachel glanced around, her heart pounding. “Jake, we haven’t gone very far down the path. Maybe we should hike a ways more before you do this.”

“Nervous, Rachel?”

“Not for myself. For you. I think we should be in a more remote area.” Truthfully, though, he was scaring her with his abrupt decision to shift with no time for her to mentally prepare for it. She’d imagined he’d seek out a secluded glen and the process would be slow and ethereal.

She’d envisioned his shifting as a magical experience. Logically, she knew there wouldn’t be music, but she thought there should be. Like in Ladyhawke. But this wasn’t Hollywood, as he’d warned her earlier.

Definitely not Hollywood. Jake tossed his clothes to the side of the trail and stretched out naked in the middle of the dirt. She winced. At the very least he should have had grass or pine boughs. Something other than dirt.

But if dirt was his choice, she would get down to his level and watch this up close and personal. She sat down on the trail beside him. This position had an added benefit. If the shock caused her to faint, she wouldn’t have so far to fall.

She hadn’t picked a very good spot. A sharp rock was digging into her fanny. She was about to move when Jake took a deep breath and began to glow. Mesmerized, she went completely still.

The effect was muted by daylight and would have been more pronounced at night, but Jake was definitely giving off a pulsing light. And his body, the one she’d enjoyed so thoroughly in the past few hours, the one she’d stroked and kissed, had begun to change.

Heart pounding and stomach clenched, she made herself watch without looking away. But several times she wanted to avert her eyes from this strangely beautiful, yet completely bizarre, process. No, this wasn’t Ladyhawke.

That Hollywood transformation had taken place with shifting light. And evocative music, of course. But this was more like a carnival show’s house-of-mirrors trick, as Jake’s body stretched and realigned to accommodate the very different form of a wolf. He grew increasingly hairy and his face gradually elongated into that of a beast. When he was no longer recognizably human, Rachel sucked in a breath.

She was shocked by the change, and embarrassed by her visceral reaction, which contained equal doses of fascination and horror. She hoped Jake hadn’t heard her gasp, but he probably had. He’d already told her of a wolf’s acute sensory perception.

The shift seemed to take forever, although in reality it might have been only a couple of minutes. They were highly charged minutes, though, and Rachel held her breath through most of it. No wonder Jake had insisted that she had to watch this.

Until now, she’d been living in a fantasy world in which Jake had presented himself as either a wolf or a human. The metamorphosis from one to the other hadn’t factored into her view of him. But any human who planned to enter the Were world had better accept this process. And now that she’d seen it, she realized she wasn’t even close to acceptance.

At long last, a large black wolf lay on the path where Jake had been before. Rachel drew breath into her burning lungs and stared at the animal as she tried to convince herself that it was still Jake. She had a tough time making the mental adjustment.

The wolf’s flanks heaved, and then he rose slowly to his feet. After an initial period of unsteadiness, his massive chest inflated and he lifted his broad head and turned it in Rachel’s direction. Jake’s green eyes, their shape altered but their color identical, stared at her. They were almost nose to nose.

Then, as clear as a bell, a mental transmission arrived. Well?

She answered without thinking. “You were right. I wasn’t prepared for that.” Then she realized that he’d communicated through telepathy. Could she do the same? But I didn’t faint. Give me credit for that, at least.

At least you wouldn’t have had far to fall.

Part of my plan. She gazed into his wolf’s eyes. Jake, we’re talking without speaking.

He blinked at her. So it seems.

Can other humans do that with a werewolf?

Never heard of it happening before.

Her smile was triumphant. See? How can you deny that we’re destined to be together?

You make it sound like such a simple . . . Jake’s ears flicked and his gaze left hers. His body tensed and he growled.

For one wild moment she wondered if the growl was meant for her. No, something else . . .

“Miss M!” Lionel’s panicked cry came from somewhere behind her.

Dear God. “Lionel, stay back!” Light-headed with fear for Jake, she scrambled to her feet and spun in Lionel’s direction. “It’s okay! Stay back!”

“Don’t move!” Lionel’s shouted command was followed by the crack of a rifle and a sharp yelp of pain.

Jake! Gulping in terror, she turned back to the spot where he’d been. Empty. When she scanned the trees, she saw nothing. Her shoulders sagged. He got away, but he was wounded. And it was her fault.

She spied his pile of clothes and kicked them under an overhanging bush as Lionel came crashing through the forest toward her.

“Damn it! Just nicked him!” Rifle in hand, Lionel arrived panting. “Did he bite you? Are you bleeding?”

No, but Jake might be. She fought to stay focused. Jake needed her to be calm, to take charge, to protect him if she could. “He wasn’t attacking me.”

“Not yet, maybe, but he had you down, and next he would have gone for your throat! Thank God I showed up. Where the hell is Mr. Hunter?”

“He, uh, had something he had to do, so I . . . decided to take a hike by myself.” She grabbed the backpack before Lionel thought to do it. He might catch a glimpse of Jake’s clothes hidden under the bush if he inspected the ground too carefully.

“So he left you to amuse yourself, and then you get attacked by his wolf, which was supposed to be on its way to a sanctuary? Mr. Hunter is not taking very good care of you, Miss M!”

She thought quickly about how to explain the sudden appearance of the black wolf. Lionel wouldn’t believe he’d seen a different one just now. Jake was too distinctive. “Maybe the wolf escaped while he was being transported to the sanctuary.”

“Well, that’s not good.” Lionel peered at her. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re really white.”

“I’m fine.” She wished she could try to connect telepathically with Jake, but Lionel might notice her acting strangely and ask more questions.