Interesting. Little Maggie had found his favorite spot.
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
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.
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.
