Wolf Kiss (Warrior Wolves Book 1) Read online

  Possibly he was a true wild wolf that had stumbled upon her sanctuary, but that was highly unlikely as wolves had been considered extinct from Vermont since the 1800s. Brandy always held out hope wolves would return to the state and had worked on campaigns to plan for the eventual return of the great canines.

  Still, it was a long shot with more and more timberland getting cleared. At least her land was a safe place for wolves, and as long as she had air in her lungs and a heart beating in her chest, it would remain that way. Someday, if he wanted to, Dylan could continue the work they did at Silver Moon.

  If he didn’t decide to be President of course.

  ****

  The next morning, Brandy’s SUV bounced down the dirt driveway as she and Dylan went on their breakfast date. Reardon wished he could have joined them. Their moods had been so jovial, and he understood they were celebrating the boy’s learning success. A boy who took his studies seriously was definitely cause for merriment, and it had been a while since Reardon had been involved in any true merriment.

  Besides, everything was better with Brandy and Dylan. In the time he’d spent at Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary, Reardon had grown quite fond of both of them. He’d learned quite a bit about the Wendon family. About their dedication to one another. About their superior work ethic. About their deep concern for all things nature.

  About the love that was a tangible presence on that sanctuary every single day.

  Reardon had never been part of such a community. His own family had barely been functional. He’d been born out of wedlock to the town strumpet. His mother hadn’t been able to tell him who his father was with any certainty when he was a small boy. She’d pointed out several big, strapping lads when they were in town—ones that looked as if they could have carried stallions on their shoulders—and said, “Aye, he could be your father.” She’d said that so many times he’d stopped listening.

  It didn’t matter anyway. He hadn’t needed a father. He’d had his mother and a younger brother—also a bastard child—and that had been family enough. He grew up quickly and discovered his size made him good at one thing and one thing only—fighting. He started out getting into small scrapes for the fun of it. Poking at trouble here. Throwing a punch there. If an altercation was happening somewhere, Reardon had a gift for sniffing it out. Literally. Raised levels of testosterone were easy to smell when you were part wolf.

  Only he hadn’t known he was part wolf at the time. He believed he had a knack for being in the right place at the right time for a fight. Then one day, he came home with a terrible fever from the job he had helping a local blacksmith. His entire body ached. His very bones felt strange. His mother took one look at him and her usually smiling lips formed a grim line.

  “I know who your father is.”

  “I care not, Mother. I’ve told you this.” He shivered and yet his skin was clammy, his cheeks burning.

  “You will care.”

  Her response was cryptic, but he was too ill to make much of it. He barely heard the door to their cottage open and close. His mother was gone for what had seemed like forever while he wavered between feeling icy and fiery. His throat grew incredibly dry and an all-over itch crawled along inside his veins. He was quite certain death was near. Jaemus watched him with wary eyes from across the room as if he didn’t want to catch whatever plagued Reardon.

  When his mother returned, she wasn’t alone.

  “Reardon.” Her voice sounded far away, tinny. “Wake up, lad.”

  He forced up his heavy eyelids and regarded his mother through fevered vision. Her image wavered as his stomach pitched. A looming shadow behind her barely registered in his mind.

  “This is Zian McDade,” his mother said. “He will take care of you now.”

  Before Reardon could protest, that looming shadow became a hulking man bending down and scooping him off his bed.

  “Aye, I will help you with the transition, lad.” The man’s voice rumbled in the small room.

  Transition? Reardon didn’t get the chance to voice his questions because his mother’s crying squeezed at his heart. She was a promiscuous woman, but she loved her boys.

  “Don’t be afraid, son. Zian knows what to do.” She gripped his hand. “You will see me and Jaemus again. I promise.”

  A soft kiss on his forehead and his mother turned into a retreating shape as Zian carried him out of the cottage. The hard wooden bottom slammed into his back when the mountain of a man deposited him into the back of a horse-drawn wagon.

  “Where are you taking me?” he managed to choke out.

  Zian paused. “A safe place.” Without elaboration, the man climbed onto the wagon, clicked his tongue once, and guided the horses out of the town, away from people, away from his mother, his brother, the life he knew.

  They rode for most of the night from what Reardon could tell. He wavered in and out of consciousness, but when the wagon finally halted, he sat up and looked around. Trees stretched out in every direction and the night was pitch black.

  And yet, Reardon was able to see perfectly. The details of tree bark were crystal clear. Each feather on a night owl perched high on a branch was visible. The stars were touchable so great was their clarity.

  “What is this place?” The question came out on a whisper.

  Zian helped him out of the wagon. “It is our sacred space.”

  “Our?” Reardon’s legs wobbled and his head swayed.

  “I am part of a brethren as old as these trees.” Zian spread his arms out to encompass the woods surrounding them. “A brethren of special men.”

  “What does this have to do with me?” Reardon put his hands on his head to stop the spinning. It didn’t work. “I’m nothing special. I’m no one.”

  Zian shook his head, a mane of black hair swishing around his shoulders. “You are my son. My Seventh Son, more specifically.”

  Reardon’s eyes widened. “You have seven sons?”

  “I do and you are my last. Born under the December full moon, you are like me.”

  “Like you?” They both had black hair, odd green-gold eyes, and physiques larger than average, but Reardon didn’t know anything about Zian McDade. How could anyone know if they were alike?

  They were strangers.

  “Close your eyes,” Zian said.

  Reardon shook his head and immediately regretted it. His stomach pitched and he was certain anything he’d ever eaten was on its way out.

  “Trust me, lad.” Zian put his hands on Reardon’s shoulders and suddenly the woods stopped spinning. “Close your eyes.”

  Reardon did as he’d been told, still not sure he should trust Zian. The man had discarded his mother. What made Reardon think he wouldn’t do the same to him? Alike or not, this man hadn’t been a true father. He wasn’t family. He was just a strange man who’d brought him out into the woods while he was ill. Not a stellar start to a father-son relationship.

  As he stood there with his eyes closed, an image flashed into his mind. An image of a great black wolf with eyes like his own—eyes also like Zian’s. Reardon was scared at first. The beastie looked capable of tearing him to bits, but as it ran closer, its muscular legs rippling beneath that shiny black coat, he had the undeniable sense that he… that he knew this wolf.

  “You see it, lad, don’t you?” Zian’s voice was calm.

  Reardon cleared his throat, but his voice was still scratchy. “Aye.”

  “It is your wolf form, Reardon. Let it come to you.”

  “Wolf form? I-I don’t understand.” He started to open his eyes, but Zian’s voice stopped him.

  “Keep your eyes closed. Accept your fate, and I will guide you.”

  Reardon’sheart pounded against his ribs as the huge black wolf approached at a frightening speed. What would the beast do when it reached him?

  He didn’t want to know.

  Opening his eyes, he stumbled back when the wolf disappeared.

  Zian let out a growl—one that hadn’t sounded quite
human. “You are more like me than you know. I didn’t let it reach me either.”

  “What would happen if it did?” Would the wolf bite him? Would it become a part of him? Would he die? He had so many questions.

  “You would have had a smooth transition.” With a sympathetic expression on his face, Zian turned and walked deeper into the woods. “Now you’ll have to follow me.”

  Reardon considered climbing into Zian’s wagon and going back home, but he didn’t think he could make the journey. He still felt weak, as if his insides wanted to become his outsides. He’d been with Zian for hours now and the man hadn’t hurt him. That didn’t mean Reardon trusted him, but he didn’t not trust the man either.

  His feet moved in Zian’s direction. Soon a clearing came into view. In the center, a huge stone slab was illuminated by the full moon’s light. Around the stone, several large men stood, their faces grim and the shadows making them appear ghastly.

  “Is he why you’ve called the brethren?” one of the men asked.

  “Aye. He’s my son. He’s one of us.” Zian put a hand on Reardon’s shoulder. “He opened his eyes.”

  Curses had colored the night air while the men shook their heads. Reardon had never heard such language.

  “Why give us the option when most of us are not able to keep our eyes closed?” another man asked.

  “Flidae likes her fun,” Zian said. “Let’s initiate the lad ourselves. He’s got the fever now.”

  Before Reardon had time to react, the men were on him, dragging him to the stone slab, tying him down, chanting. He struggled against them, but there were too many of them and they were too strong.

  Then the chanting changed to snarls.

  “Hey, Alator.”

  Reardon’s entire wolf body jumped at the sound of Meredith’s voice. He turned his head to see her walking toward her car in the driveway.

  “Did I scare you, buddy?” She bent down, her hand held out to summon him. “I didn’t think one could scare a wolf. Learn something every day, I guess.”

  He shook off the memory of his first change from human to wolf and trotted toward Meredith. Her hand running over his coat did wonders to bring him back to the present and bury the horrors of that night in the woods. During his stay at Silver Moon Sanctuary, he’d come to appreciate the motherly role Meredith played so well. She never failed to throw some maternal attention his way, which he greatly appreciated.

  After he’d met Zian, he’d never seen his own mother again, despite her promises that they would be reunited. It wasn’t her fault though. He’d been the one to stay away.

  “I’m heading to the grocery store, Alator. Got to get some healthy stuff for my sweet-toothed brood. Brandy and Dylan would bathe in sugar if I didn’t pay attention.” She chuckled and gave him a final pat. “Be back in a few. You’ve got things under control, don’t you?”

  Reardon angled his head at her, wishing he could talk to her using words. Instead he pushed his nose into her hand and let out a short ruff.

  “I thought so.” She waved and climbed into her car.

  Reardon watched her leave as he’d watched Brandy and Dylan. For the first time since he’d arrived, there were no humans at Silver Moon Sanctuary.

  He ran past Lug and Bele who were sunning themselves nearby. When he got to the clinic, he glanced around to find only the trees watching him. He shifted to human form and drew in a deep breath. Gods, he hadn’t been in human form in two weeks. His legs actually felt shaky, his muscles tight, his beard wild and unruly.

  Lifting a hand, he turned the knob on the clinic door and sent a thank you to the gods that it was unlocked. He stepped inside and marveled at how different the large room looked from his human height. He was so used to trotting around at counter-top level that he’d never gotten a proper look at the clinic. It was neat and orderly and somehow cozy despite the strange equipment he’d seen Brandy and Parker use to keep him and the other wolves at the sanctuary healthy.

  The advances in medicine that had been made since the time he’d come from were remarkable. It’d taken him the full two weeks to understand how humans lived in Brandy’s time. Cars instead of horses and wagons. Lights instead of candles and torches. Stoves, ovens, and microwaves instead of fires in hearths. It was all so amazing, and he rather liked the way of life these humans enjoyed.

  Scanning the clinic now, he found a pair of Parker’s scrubs often worn when the veterinarian tended to the wolves. Reardon slid them on to cover his very naked body then set about looking in drawers and cabinets. In Brandy’s desk drawer, he located a nice stash of money which he stuffed in a pocket. He’d overheard Dylan asking for money when he wanted to buy a comic book and understood that one could acquire things with it. The first things he would acquire would be better garments because Parker’s scrubs were… snug.

  After finding the bathroom and a pair of scissors, he used the reflective glass in the room to tidy his beard and hair as best he could. Both had become unruly because he’d been in wolf form for so long. He located a pair of work boots by the clinic door that were a little tight but tolerable and he walked back outside. Staring at the tire tracks Meredith and Brandy had made on their departures, Reardon kneeled down and sniffed the imprints. He could easily follow them. Both women had mentioned going “into town,” so he figured town would be the place to acquire more suitable clothes and perhaps find Brandy.

  Because he could wait no longer for her meet his human form.

  Chapter Seven

  “I’m so full.” Brandy felt positively round after the breakfast she and Dylan had wolfed down.

  “Me too.” Dylan patted his belly. “They make the best chocolate pancakes.”

  Brandy slung her arm around Dylan’s shoulders. “If you buzz around like a rabid bee later due to your horrific sugar intake during that breakfast, I don’t want to hear about it.”

  “I’ll run it off with Alator. He’s always in the mood for a chase game.”

  That was true. That wolf did anything Dylan suggested. The boy had a few school friends, but otherwise spent his free time with Brandy, Meredith, Parker, or alone.

  Until Alator showed up.

  Dylan had always liked hanging out with the sanctuary’s wolves, but this bond with Alator was completely different. It was almost as if boy and wolf could anticipate each other’s needs and fill them without much effort. Brandy had once read an article about how soul mates didn’t have to mean two people in love. It could also mean finding something in someone else that completed you in some way. Dylan and Alator appeared to do that for each other.

  “Can we go to the pet store?” Dylan asked as he avoided stepping on any of the sidewalk cracks beside her now.

  “The pet store? What for?” Brandy couldn’t think of any supplies the sanctuary needed at the moment.

  Dylan shrugged his left shoulder. “I have some allowance money saved and I want to buy a surprise for Alator.”

  Brandy smiled. “Well, that’s a nice thought, kiddo. Okay. Let’s go.”

  Dylan grabbed her hand and they walked across the street from the breakfast place toward Pete’s Pet Paradise. The day was warming up to a toasty eighty degrees and Brandy drew in a deep breath of flowered air. Big pots of bright red geraniums hung from the rustic lampposts lining Main Street in the center of Canville. Red, white, and blue decorations adorned many of the shops along this main artery of the small town in preparation for the Fourth of July parade in two weeks. Brandy, Dylan, and Meredith loved this event and set up lawn chairs on the route every year. They usually hooked up with Parker and ate a picnic lunch complete with Brandy’s favorite part—blueberry pie.

  “I can’t wait for the parade,” Dylan said as if reading Brandy’s thoughts.

  “Nothing better than fireworks on a hot summer night.”

  Dylan held up his fists then splayed his fingers out quickly as he arced his hands over his head. “Boom! Sizzle! Crash! The finale is the best part.”

  “Agreed.” Al
though Brandy’s mind did wander to having someone to hold her and kiss her during the fireworks… maybe setting off fireworks inside her. That’d be nice for a change.

  Sighing softly so Dylan wouldn’t ask her what was bothering her, she followed him to the pet store and he pulled open the door. They entered, enjoying the cool breeze from the store’s air conditioning.

  “Ah, the Wendons,” Pete said as he looked up from the binder he had open at the register. “How are Canville’s wolf people?”

  “Stuffed,” Brandy said.

  “Eat breakfast at Rosie’s?” Pete nodded toward the diner across the street.

  “Eat isn’t the right word,” Brandy said. “More like feast.”

  “Like wild animals,” Dylan added with a giggle.

  “Hanging around with those wolves too much.” Pete, a big bear of a man, came around the counter and pretended to spar with Dylan for a few minutes before giving Brandy a hug.

  She always felt tiny next to Pete, which was an unexpected feeling. At five feet eight inches, Brandy didn’t feel tiny often.

  “How are you, Pete?” She stepped back to look up at his round, bearded face.

  “Great. Business is always good in the summer with locals and more tourists hanging around.” Pete gestured to the customers milling about the store. “Are you doing any tourist events at Silver Moon?”

  “The July Full Moon Wolf Walk at the end of the month and then the Growls and Grub Picnic at the sanctuary in August.” Both events had brought in tons of cash for the sanctuary in the past and had become annual summer events in Canville for locals and tourists alike. They were simple enough to orchestrate and Brandy always managed to nab a few dedicated donors who would support Silver Moon throughout the year. She received federal funding through her continued research efforts and liaison with the university, but these events allowed her to do the little extras that made the sanctuary the success it was.

  “You put me and Pearl down for both and you know Pearl will be happy to help out foodwise.”

  Brandy put her hand on Pete’s forearm. “You two have VIP reservations. Always.”