Shadow of the Wolf hd-1 Read online

  There you are.

  * * *

  Lana stopped, a strange sense of both safety and vulnerability flashing through her.

  That way. She started to turn to her left and shrieked.

  Lightning flashed, thunder rumbled, and the dark shape of a man stood before her.

  His eyes gleamed in the flash of lightning, his grin triumphant. He reached out towards her and tried to grab her arm.

  Her entire being shuddered away from him. Lana stepped away from the man. “Why have you been following me?”

  The man tilted his head. “Isn’t that your car broken down on the road? I thought you could use some help.”

  His voice was a pleasant blend of concern and attraction. Lana’s eyes narrowed, bringing up her second sight. Usually she could conjure up a person’s aura fairly easily, but this man’s was somehow shielded. Unfortunately she got just enough of a feel off of that shield to know what she was dealing with. Damn. A freaking wizard. Figures. No way did she want to engage in a magical dance with a wizard, especially when she couldn’t tell how strong he was. Lana took a step back, every instinct she had pushing her away from the man in front of her.

  “I’d be careful, too. There are rumors of some kind of wild animal in these parts.

  Found a few dogs mangled in the woods.”

  The concern in his voice was false. A flash of red and sickly green surrounded him, the colors murky and muddled, before he shielded himself once more. Something was off about those colors. “Ah, thanks for the warning.” Lana backed up another step, her instincts screaming at her that her only safety lay behind her, somewhere in the shadows.

  The man moved forward a step. “You really should have waited in your car for a cop or something, Miss…?”

  Lana put her hands behind her, feeling for trees and branches. She continued to slowly back away from the menace she sensed in front of her. If she could reach the safe harbor she felt behind her, everything would be all right.

  Only if she could reach it, though.

  Then again, the Lord does help those who help themselves. Her eyes were drawn to the branch swaying dangerously above his head. And the Lady provides the means.

  The stranger dropped all pretense of helpfulness. He shook his head at her, his expression annoyed. “Are you going to make this difficult? It doesn’t have to be painful, you know.”

  “What doesn’t have to be painful?”

  “Your death.”

  With those words several things happened at once. A long, menacing growl erupted out of the darkness. One of the shadows hurtled through the night, knocking the blond man onto his ass.

  And the branch he’d been standing under snapped, helped along by Lana and the force of the wind, hitting the blond on the top of his head and knocking him out cold.

  The shadow animal turned, its golden eyes trained on Lana. Slowly it stalked towards her, its body moving with a supple, lethal grace.

  A black wolf. In rural Pennsylvania .

  Lord? Lady? No freaking way that’s safe. Lana gulped, and wondered if, somewhere out there, Fate was laughing its ass off at her.

  * * *

  Christopher’s heart was still pounding in his chest. He turned towards his mate, scenting her for any injuries. He relaxed a bit when all he smelled were scratches, most likely from her flight through the woods.

  When Cole had threatened her, it had been all he could do not to rip out the bastard’s throat. The only thing that had saved him had been the falling branch and his mate’s horrified gasp.

  She was brave, his female. She stood there and watched him coming towards her with big, chocolate brown eyes wide with fear and…

  Yes. Fascination. He could work with that.

  He approached her slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. When he reached her side, he gently stroked her thigh with his massive head, unable to prevent the rough, happy grumble that leapt to his throat.

  “Oh boy.”

  Her soft whisper sent shivers down his spine. His tail curled in pleasure, waving back and forth. Her hand came to rest tentatively on his broad back, her fingers digging into his fur.

  With a yip he turned. Gently he gathered her hand in his mouth, careful of his sharp teeth, and gently tugged her towards his home.

  “Um, okay. Go with the big doggie. Got it.”

  He rolled his eyes but did his best to ignore her words. The breathy, scared tone of voice matched her scent, frightened, wary, and brave. Christopher felt pride in his mate.

  She followed his lead, barely sparing Cole a glance. It pleased him that she made no move to give his enemy aid.

  Certain now she followed, Christopher let her hand go and stalked into the cold wet night.

  * * *

  I’m following a wolf through the woods in rural Pennsylvania after it attacked a man who told me he was going to kill me, and somehow my inner warning signal is okay with that. Lana pinched the fleshy part of her arm hard. “OW!”

  The wolf stopped and looked back, its head tilted to the side.

  “Nope, not dreaming.” Lana rubbed at her arm, hoping it wouldn’t bruise. She hadn’t meant to pinch quite that hard.

  The wolf huffed and turned, heading off once more. Of the two strangers she’d met in the woods tonight, Lana considered the wolf less dangerous, at least to her. The way the big wolf had acted after she’d hit the man on the head with that branch had been surreal, but not very frightening at all. The sense of safety she’d been heading towards had centered itself on the wolf, and she’d felt compelled to follow wherever it led.

  The big wolf led her through the woods, his footfalls silent and sure. The few times she lost sight of the wolf it returned, tugging on her hand to lead her forward.

  I hope wherever we’re going I can take my boots off. My feet are killing me.

  “Are we there yet?”

  Up ahead the wolf gave a strange chuffing cough.

  “And I’m sure I’d understand that if I spoke fluent woof.”

  The wolf stopped, staring back at her for a moment.

  “What?”

  The wolf gave a shake of its head before moving forward once again.

  “Yup, you’re male.”

  Once again that proud head turned towards her. She could almost sense the question it wanted to ask.

  “You haven’t once stopped for directions and you don’t make a lick of sense.”

  Those golden eyes narrowed, almost as if… Nah. Not possible. Grammy had told her a long time ago that shapeshifters were a myth. Although he could be someone’s familiar.

  That would explain how he seems to understand me. But even familiars didn’t have the level of intelligence this wolf seemed to possess, unless it was under a compulsion spell of some kind.

  And anyone who put a compulsion spell on someone else wasn’t someone she wanted to meet.

  She felt the magical barriers before they passed through them, early enough that she stopped before going in. “Wait.”

  The wolf, on the other side of the barrier, yipped impatiently.

  “No way. I have no clue what’s on the other side. For all I know you actually work for tall, blond and dorky. That could be an evil lair you’re luring me to.” Not that she actually believed that, but for some reason her instincts were telling her that crossing that border meant nothing would ever be the same again. She wasn’t certain yet if that was a good thing or a bad thing, since her insides were currently filled with butterflies doing a crazy, half-scared, half-excited mambo.

  The wolf lowered his dark head, golden eyes closed. She could almost hear the pleas for patience.

  Guess that answers that question. A familiar, then. At least she knew for certain now that she was dealing with someone magical. “Besides, judging from the look and feel, whoever’s on the other side is a wizard.” The wolf’s head snapped up. “Not sure I’m so eager to meet up with another one of those any time soon.” The wolf slowly shook his head. “Well, what would you do if you were in
my,” she looked down at her feet

  “boots?”

  The wolf snorted.

  “Yes, I know, Pup in Boots, doggie drag, call it what you will. The question remains.

  Would you put your life into an unknown wizard’s hands?”

  The image of the wolf blurred until a tall, wet, naked man stood in front of her.

  “You already did.”

  Lana blinked. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out, other than a whimpered

  “Ugh.”

  The man’s lips twitched. “Are you coming through or do you like getting rained on?”

  Lana squeaked.

  Hot, wet, naked male, with dark hair and golden eyes. Golden eyes.

  Sorry, Grammy, looks like you were wrong.

  The man’s mouth curved up into a sensuous smile. “Of course this would be a great deal more fun if you were also naked.”

  “Guh.”

  He held out his hand. “Come to me.”

  Lana hesitated. There was something about his stance, about the way he phrased that command, that worried her. There was something irrevocable about it that had her wanting to take a quick step back.

  The smile left his face. Determination hardened his features. “Come to me.”

  The whispered seduction of his voice wrapped around her, teasing her senses, tugging her forward until she crossed the barrier, mambo dancing butterflies be damned.

  Well, fuck. Looks like I get to dance with a wizard after all.

  Chapter Two

  Christopher could barely contain his excitement. His mate was standing outside his home, staring up at the lit windows cautiously, her dark eyes somber. She was shivering with the cold, soaked to the bone, and still stubbornly refusing to enter. “Come inside.”

  “Said the spider to the fly.”

  He would have found it amusing if her teeth weren’t chattering so hard. “You’re soaked to the skin and freezing. Would you rather stay outside and run the risk of getting sick, or would you like to come inside and get dry?” He would force the issue if she tried to remain outside, consequences be damned.

  She studied him warily before nodding grudgingly. She stepped over the threshold and into the warmth of the house.

  He pointed towards the floor. “Strip. Drop your clothes there. I’ll be back in a moment with blankets and towels.”

  She actually growled at him before tugging off the poncho.

  Satisfied that she was following his commands, he turned away, heading into the laundry room for some clean towels. He hadn’t had a chance yet to fold laundry that evening, and now he was grateful for it. He toweled himself off and tugged on a pair of jeans, hoping that covering himself would make her more comfortable in his home.

  He strode back out into the kitchen and froze, every single thought driven out of his head. She stood there clad only in simple white cotton, but that cotton was drenched, clinging to her skin like the finest silk. He could see the dusky color of her nipples through the cloth, the thatch of dark hair at the apex of her thighs.

  One hand went to cover the sweet triangle between her thighs, the other reaching up to cover her breasts. “Towel. Please.”

  He stalked towards her, putting every ounce of seduction he knew into it, gratified to see her fingers trembling from more than the cold when she took the towel from him.

  “Follow me.”

  He didn’t wait to see if she obeyed him. He led her farther into the house, towards the fireplace in his great room. With a wave of his hand and a few muttered words, he lit a roaring blaze guaranteed to warm her through.

  The crystal ball wasn’t the only “pre-programmed” spell in the house.

  “Great.”

  He turned to find her glaring at him. He reached behind her to the sofa, pulling the blanket draped over the back off of it and wrapping it around her shoulders. “What’s great?”

  “Nothing.”

  He could feel one of his eyebrows trying to climb into his hairline. “Why does that tone bother me?”

  “You’re the wizard. You figure it out.”

  He settled on the rug in front of the fireplace. “Why do I get the feeling you’re prejudiced against wizards?” And why do I suddenly think you aren’t one? A thought he hadn’t entertained. After all, he’d asked for another wizard for a mate.

  Hadn’t he?

  “Maybe because wizards are prejudiced against me.” She settled on the opposite side of the fireplace, her expression wary. He would have to see what he could do to remedy that.

  But for now he would deal with the first issue. “Why would wizards be prejudiced against you?”

  She licked her lips, and everything male in him stood at attention. He didn’t hear her reply, too focused on what that pink tongue would feel like lapping at the head of his now aching cock.

  “Hello!” The snapping of her fingers brought his attention back to the rest of her face. “Do I want to know what you were thinking just now?”

  “Do you like chocolate syrup?”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Do you like chocolate syrup?”

  “Uh, no?”

  “Then no.”

  The wary look was back in her eyes. “Alrighty then. Can I borrow your phone?”

  “Borrow my phone? Why?”

  “To call for someone to come and pick me up, obviously.”

  When hell freezes over. “Perhaps after we’re dry?”

  “I could have them bring over clothes. And I need someone to take a look at my car.

  It broke down on the road, and why am I telling a complete stranger all this? You could be an axe murderer.”

  He laughed. “I’m not, I promise.”

  “I’m sure all axe murderers say that right before they break out the axe.”

  He snorted, thoroughly amused. She was snuggling deeper into the blanket, the heat warming her through, her teeth chattering less and less. “Getting a tow truck out here during this storm would be a true feat of magic.”

  She sighed and propped her chin on her hand, looking forlorn. He wanted to snatch her up and cuddle her close, but there was no way she was ready for that yet. “True.”

  “Perhaps I could take a look at your car after the storm passes.”

  “Perhaps you could.” She jumped when Alasdair landed in her lap. “Oh!” She reached out and tentatively petted Alasdair, a delighted smile on her face. Alasdair, the shameless thing, purred in obvious delight before settling down. “Your familiar?”

  He nodded, hoping his pet would put her at ease in a way Christopher seemed incapable of doing. She seemed to like the cat, and Alasdair certainly seemed to like her back.

  She opened her mouth, her brow furrowed, before shaking her head and clamping her lips closed.

  “Go ahead and ask. I promise I won’t bite yet.”

  “Yet?”

  He merely smiled. She’d find out sooner rather than later if he had any say in the matter.

  “How did you… I mean, Grammy said that shapeshifters were a myth.”

  He watched her, the play of emotions over her heart-shaped face. “They are.”

  “Then, how?”

  “How do I become the wolf?” She nodded. “Simple. I’m—”

  “Christopher Beckett.” Her eyes widened in shock.

  He grinned, unable to hold back the feral satisfaction and deep longing to finalize the cementing of their bond. She knows my name. It really is her. “Yes.”

  She shook her head. “How did I know that?”

  He needed a diversion. It was too soon to give that part of the game away. “Would you like some hot chocolate?” The wistful hunger on her face drove him to his feet.

  “Enjoy the fire. I’ll return momentarily.” He didn’t want his new mate catching cold before he’d had a chance to claim her. “Don’t move; I don’t want you getting sick.”

  Besides, he planned on adding a little something that would ensure she’d still be there come morning.

&nbs
p; * * *

  Lana moved her legs, thinking perhaps it would be better to grab her wet clothes and make for the hills, but the warm weight of the purring cat held her in place. Deep gold-green eyes slit open, staring up at her with lazy arrogance, daring her to move.

  “Like master like familiar, huh?”

  Speaking of the “master”, how in the hell had she known the man’s name?

  Something was going on here, something that had her magic senses tingling. The thing was, instead of blaring the warning she expected, they were, well, tingling. She couldn’t get the image of him standing there, naked, half hard cock dangling between his thighs, his hand held out, his deep, purring voice demanding that she come to him. And oh boy had she wanted to come to him.

  Was that it? Had the wizard wrapped some sort of lust spell around her? She shook her head. If he’d wrapped any sort of will-sapping spell around her he wouldn’t be a wizard. He’d be a warlock. And she’d gotten no sense from him that he was one of those spellcasters. They didn’t exactly have a shiny happy feel to them.

  No, Christopher Beckett was definitely a wizard.

  And what was up with the wonder dog routine, anyway? She needed to call her Grammy, needed to call her now.

  She managed to get the irate cat off her lap with only a few minor scratches to add to the ones she’d picked up in the woods. Wrapping the blanket closely around her, she tiptoed farther into the room, looking for a phone.

  She was surprised by the look of his home; she’d expected something a little more traditional in décor. Instead, his kitchen had been done in warm light cherry wood with slate floors, surprisingly warm under her bare feet. The countertops and backsplash were warm brown granite that picked up the colors of the slate tile. The stainless steel appliances and fixtures added a modern touch. The smaller appliances had all been cobalt blue; the walls were warm gold, almost the exact shade of Christopher’s eyes.