Pack City

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Pack City - Book 2: Wanton Werewolf Series Copyright © 2005 Carys Weldon ISBN: 1-55410-573-0 Cover art and design by Sara Creasy All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. Published by eXtasy Books, a division of Zumaya Publications, 2005 Look for us online at: www.zumayapublications.com www.extasybooks.com

Dedication: This one is for all the lonely people out there, who are trapped in bodies they don’t love, looking for a soul mate they can’t find. I believe, like Fera, you may have to slip past a lot of losers, but a great mate is out there. Just keep hunting! Special acknowledgement and appreciation to those who helped this book in its production process: My acquisitions editor, Stefani Kelsey Cover artist, Sara Creasy Editor, Cindy Speer

Carys Weldon

Introduction ll the men I know are dogs, and all the women I know are bitches, and I say that in the nicest way. I say that with my head bowed in reverence, actually. My name is Fera. I am a werewolf. Born a wolf. Raised a wolf. Ready to become a woman. Until now, you could say, my experience is all ‘pack.’ I will be changing any time now and I am afraid of what that means. The dogs will go wild. The bitches will look at me different. And I think that means the clawing will begin. It’s all a fight, you know, once you come of age in a wolf pack. That’s when you really come to understand the phrase, ‘Do or die’. Or is that, ‘Do and die…?’

A

1

Pack City

Prologue

I

live in Pack City. Cool place. Dangerous place. A place to watch your back at all times. A place to mind your own business. Except you can’t really mind your own business when the hounds of hell are breathing down your neck. When you belong to a pack, you’ve got two choices. Run with the big dogs, or— Well, let’s just say you need to get up to speed or you won’t be worrying about it tomorrow. That’s why werewolves tend to live for the moment. Yeah, we get caught up in the frenzies. Lust. That’s what we live for, really. Blood. Sex. Eating. Combination of the above. I think that’s one of the great mysteries of life. Who knows which combination is gonna do it for ya next, ya know? Like, right now, I’m into blood, eating, hunting. Nature of the dog. But they say my change is gonna redirect me. That sex is gonna consume me for awhile. Pheromone levels going haywire or something. 2

Carys Weldon I didn’t really believe it until the night Leer caught up with Kayty Smalls. That was an eye-opener on what a change can do for a girl. Leer’s the alpha at Pack City now. And Kayty’s his mate. Do you know their story? Kayty’s a breeder. Born human. Raised human. Never even knew she was kin to a wolf pack. That happens sometimes. Talk about your recessive family genes and suppressed communication levels. I can’t imagine living, having a ticking time-bomb inside you, and nobody warning you. I mean, she had no idea that she was going to shift. That’s what we call the change over from one form to another. Shapeshifting. Oh, there are signs—but you gotta have someone pointing them out. Otherwise you can convince yourself that it must be puberty, or change of life, or maturity happening. Whatever. She just thought her perked interest in the outdoors and the need to run in the woods was a phase. Who doesn’t have phases, right? Yeah, Kayty had no idea what she was getting into. She told me, “I just had urges. Went looking for something I couldn’t name.” And that’s when she laid eyes on Leer. That wasn’t a coincidence. He was looking for her. Oh, yeah. Him and the whole damned pack. Chick had a scent. I can’t really describe it, but it had all the men howling. And all the women bitchy. Like they need incentive to be like that. You see, when a breeder turns—that’s pretty 3

Pack City momentous. Doesn’t happen everyday, ya know? I think that’s because the bitches hunt them down and kill them before it happens. But what do I know? The very thought has me looking over my shoulder. Not that I put myself up there with a bitch that’s born human. Don’t get me wrong, I have my own place. Some call me ‘princess.’ I’m a pure line wolf. I’ll explain more about that later. Any chick going through the change is bound to get extra attention from the males in the pack. And when you go crinos for the first time, you’re at your most dangerous, out of control, if you know what I mean. By crinos, I mean the interim form between human and wolf. The form that rises up above all that you would probably consider normal into a beast of the ages, blessed by the gods with enhanced strength, instinct, speed and stamina. And not just in the physical department. A crinos is at the height of the evolutionary scale in all things. They are also usually a little reckless, and often senseless. Especially when they turn for the first time. A crinos could do anything. And I mean ‘do’ anything. The urge for lust satisfaction is utmost in their brain. If the beast is more human than dog, the lust likely to be uppermost is definitely sexual. Unless, of course, they’ve got some serious pent-up frustrations. Those could send a new crinos on a killing spree. Or, depending on the beasts within sniffing range, could send a whole pack on a night of excitement. 4

Carys Weldon I remember Kayty’s first time. Oh, she had them all going. I was a little young to be caught up in the frenzy. Let’s see if I can describe it. I guess I should explain...We had this guy…Chaos. Wiry-strong, sexy as hell—in the literal sense of the word. One of those murderous tough guys that made you shiver when he was near. Pent-up fury just waiting to explode. He pretty much held the alpha position in the pack, but he wasn’t very well liked. Had killed his way up, and some of those kills, well, they just didn’t seem honorable. Not that anyone was saying that out loud. Just…ya had to wonder. Anyhow, you couldn’t trust him, ya know? Moody. Scary. Somewhere between sadistic and on the edge of self-destructive. But he was cool, if that makes any sense. Everybody wanted to be him. Or be with him. Or kill him. He had this bitch, Tee. That would be Tee for teeth. Absolutely vicious bitch. Damn, were they a tough team. Ruled with the threat of bloodshed at all times. I’m telling ya, I saw them both rip throats—just for a sideways look or a wrongways sniff. I can’t say I’m not glad they’re gone. I don’t want to talk about them though. They’re past history. But Kayty and Leer? They’ve got it going on. It’s one of those deals that mesmerizes you, makes you wanna see more—watch every move they make. I should explain how they got together. I can’t really describe the weather, because I don’t remember. I know most stories start out with a 5

Pack City description of the sky. Sorry, can’t do that. You’ll have to close your eyes and make up your own picture. The memory I’ve got is all about emotion. What I remember is that the wind changed out of nowhere, and every nose in Pack City wiggled. But Leer’s—his went straight up in the air. And then he was gone. Took off like a shot. No kidding. One minute we were just laying around all lazy-like and a breeze wafts through. Zip. Like a flash he was gone. Yeah, kinda funny. Picture the rest of us, turning our heads all at once, going, “Whatup?” A couple of minutes later, the breeze did its deal again, and other males started moving out. Sudden hunt. That’s what I thought it was. We have those some times. Something stupid wanders in a little too close. Anyhow, the rest of us weren’t far behind. I didn’t really know what I was smelling, but if the rest of the pack was hot on it, I knew I better pick up my pace. So, when Leer got on Kayty’s trail, we were all chasing. Talk about your dead runs, too. But damn if he ain’t about the fastest dog on the face of the planet. Oh. My. Gaia. If you want to talk about sex gods, you should get a look at Leer. Long, lean legs. Tight all over. Leashed energy, always gives you the impression that any minute he’s gonna reach out and grab something. There’s not a female in Pack City that isn’t hoping for his touch. Not that I expect him to look my way, but hey, a girl can drool, can’t she? She can have fantasies. She definitely has fantasies. 6

Carys Weldon How can she not when she watches every movement he makes, and every move is a gathering of sinew, rippling of muscles, pumping of blood and other things? I mean it. Just watching Leer is a turnon. I’ve seen him rub himself without thought. Even seen him lick himself. Yeah, just picture that one. I could watch that tease all day long, every day. Sometimes I fantasize about him asking me to go down on him. I know he’s not mine. I know it’ll never happen. Not with Kayty in the picture. But I’d like to see him resist some tongue action. A free head job, no strings attached. I was a well-suckled babe. I could do it. At least, I think I could do it. I don’t know about the no strings part. It’s easy to think you’re in love. I’ve been half in love lots of times. Even tasted temptation a few times, just to see if I’d like it. That was just teasing, though. Men ask for it. I think, if it makes me popular, sometimes I might do it. Ya know? That was the past, though. Mistakes I made. Something I’m over. Didn’t get enough appreciation. I really believe that a man left wanting a little is more apt to want to please me. I’ve mastered the art of sucking, licking, bringing a partner to the edge, the brink of ecstasy and making him beg. Sick sense of humor, I know, but I like that. Call me crazy. Self-gratification seems much more worthy of my time than partner serving. Do for me, baby. There are so many things to watch in Pack City. To learn from. That taught me. 7

Pack City Everything’s a lesson, whether it be in survival or self-satisfaction, or pack action. That’s why pretty much everything is done in the open, where you can watch. Very few secrets in P.C. I can tell you that. To have one…why, that would be very dangerous, actually. You probably already know that wolves are suspicious animals, always looking for a reason to lash out. And that brings me back to Leer again. Leer gets his ‘oh my Gaia’ honestly. That dropdead, keel-over-with-a-swoon thing he has going on. He and Chaos are brothers. Correction, were brothers. Leer killed Chaos that night, the night Kayty Smalls came into the picture, changed our world. Shredded him. Ripped his brother a new asshole and then some. But you can’t hold that against him. It was one of those do-or-die deals. Too much was at stake. Did I say that Chaos wanted Kayty? Yeah, he did. And yeah, he had Tee. They were mates. Long time mates, too. But when something’s in the air, a wolf is ruled by his instincts. And a wolf’s instinct is to breed with the best, get on top of things. Always, never forget this, a wolf’s instinct is to climb the pack ladder. But what’s left once you’re Alpha? Just…a better mate, hotter sex, and fighting for what you’ve got. Now, I don’t really know how Leer managed to find Kayty before everyone else. I mean, he was fast, and he started after her first. But I think the wind died down before the rest of us could get a real make on 8

Carys Weldon her. By then, he’d lucked into an area where she’d walked, and picked up her trail—I’m guessing. I sure would’ve liked to watch their first hook-up. I arrived after that, though. I remember watching Kayty shift. I managed to get there in time for that. She kept trying to get up. Man, it hurt to watch. The popping and grinding of her bones and muscles as they stretched just makes me wince to think of it. It was such a crazy night. We ran through the streets looking for them. Kind of exhilarating. Really had my blood pumping. The thrill of anticipation, ya know? Only I had no idea what it was, and maybe that made it all the better. Who knows? Oh, yeah. I should probably explain…Chaos and some other werewolves have this psychic thing going on. They can communicate through thought over long distances. Others, the dogs with bad breeding, they don’t have it. Kind of puts them at a disadvantage. Guess I’m lucky. I have it. So, I could hear Chaos—contacting Kayty, sweettalking her. Wait. That was after Leer had found her. I think Chaos could read Leer’s thoughts. He was so much more advanced than most of us. Part of his allure, I think, how he drew people into his circle. He definitely had me studying him, trying to tune into his brain and what he was thinking. Saved my butt a few times, too. Gave me just enough warning to get the hell under a rock, if you know what I mean. Or disappear, or whatever. Chaos had a lot of things going on. Dipped his 9

Pack City mind into too many brains. No wonder he was a little nuts. Ya know? Some of that is a little foggy. Hard to separate who is thinking what, and so, usually, I tune it out. Except lately, I’m feeling some anxiety. I’m thinking all’s not well in P.C. Too much unrest. But I’m getting ahead of myself. I can only tell you what I know, and what I think, and what Kayty’s said to me. I haven’t developed that mind reading skill so much yet, but they say it comes in a hard roll once I change. Maybe I can pinpoint that unrest deal after that. Anyhow, that’s just politics. And wolves always gotta pay attention to that. But I can’t wait to sneak into minds and see the fantasies. More and more, I realize I’m becoming a nympho. My mind is always on sex. Licking, sucking, sniffing, fucking. But I need to finish telling you about Kayty and Leer so I can tell you what happened to me when I changed. Oh. My. Gaia. I still get wet when I think about that little adventure. Here’s the smack. Kayty and Leer met up at a bar. He chased her down, walked in, sat beside her, let her chat him up. Did I mention that a wereman has a definite sex appeal going on, especially when they’re smelling booty? Yeah. And Kayty had her changing hormones going rampant. So Leer’s manhood was practically crying out, certainly oozing his scent in heavy, airfilling reeks. Honestly, that’s what I followed to the party. With wolves, it’s an all-over body pore thing, 10

Carys Weldon too. You could sit and sniff Leer’s personal fragrance all day long. And it’s to die for. Hard to resist. Puts every bitch within miles into instant heat. I know, sounds backwards. Look, I don’t make up the rules or how it works. I just know that when Leer had a close-up whiff of Kayty, the rest of us bitches couldn’t do anything but go hunting for him, and hope to get in on what he was putting out. Sometimes it turns into a multipartner event. Worth watching, if nothing else. I wasn’t even ready. Yeah, I was a virgin. But damn, I think that night got me close. Ever been so close that you ache? So, Leer got Kayty back to her place, did the nasty with her. Okay, that’s not quite fair. She said that he did the most glorious, sniffing sex thing she could have ever dreamed of. You can read about it in her eXtasy Book journal Leader Of The Pack. Don’t say aaaahhh. I’m gonna tell ya one better. And then, after they did it the first time… Chaos broke into the place. And he and Leer went at it, took out most of the furniture, rolled around like animals. ~snicker~ That’s when I showed up. Me and the rest of the pack. Kayty went down for the change, dropped to the floor. Probably the only thing that saved her from getting killed was the raging battle between the two brothers. The fight kind of had Tee’s attention. It was her job to take out the new bitch. Anybody 11

Pack City else who tried would’ve had to go against Tee anyway. And, honestly, there was no one else dumb enough to try that. I’m telling you, Tee was a feralfanged female. We were all afraid of her. Okay, so that whole vicious spate was going on. Two men, slicing, slashing, growling, gnashing. The air was thick with blood, testosterone, pheromones. The whole place felt like narcotic heaven. Guess that was the adrenaline flowing. Very intense. Totally helter-skelter. A lot of interaction. Not only were Chaos and Leer rolling around, busting up the place, but others were getting in on the energy. Whining, howling, guttural noises abounded. Little skirmishes broke out all over the place. All I knew was it was dangerous as much as it was exciting. I backed into a corner. And I was torn between everything. What to watch? I spied Tee crouching close to the man-crinos-fight, absolutely intent on the outcome. Kayty landed in front of me. I don’t know where she came from, really. So, my gaze went back and forth between the two of them. I mean, Tee should’ve been concerned with what was going on with the new breeder bitch. But she wasn’t. Kinda freaked me out. I’m sure my eyes darted around. I remember being afraid and thinking, what if Tee thinks I’m gonna pounce this new chick? I’d have been dead. I knew I was no match. Maybe she felt assured that no one would do that. Hm. She was a confident bitch. With good reason. One thing struck me as I watched everything happening around me. Tee looked sick. Like, with 12

Carys Weldon worry. I mean, she was up for the night and what was happening, don’t get me wrong. She, unlike me, totally understood what was happening, what was at stake. She was totally intrigued by the fight, but also, nervous. Maybe I could smell it. Crazy how a wolf can separate scents, even in a busy room. The bottom line? I think Tee loved Chaos. But if he’d lost to Leer, Tee would have had to suck up big time. In every sense of the word. She’d helped Chaos put him in his place more times than I could count. Always keeping him down. Ya know? Tee would not have wanted to lose her position as alpha female in the pack. Too much disgrace. So, the winner of that fight would be the one she needed to be with. Forget that she and Chaos were two of a kind. Maybe had a real kismet thing going on. Tee was all about being on top. Nature of the dog and all that. Personally, I’ve seen more dog fights than I can count. I had never seen a breeder change. And I had definitely never seen a breeder change for the first time. Kayty’s experience was fascinating to me, and ultimately drew all of my attention. It didn’t last long, though she said it felt like it went on forever. But she was glorious when she stood up. Crinos is like—well, perfection. You’re bigger, better, stronger. Every feature of your body is more pronounced. And I guess that could be good or bad, but in Kayty’s case, she was magnificent. I can only hope to be that cool. And if she didn’t take to her change like a bat outta 13

Pack City hell. She took on Tee, ripped her throat and then backed up for the champion. Leer. They did it doggy style, right there, in the middle of the room. Right after he did Chaos in, that is. So, it was the best of all worlds. Feast. Blood frenzy. And honest-to-Gaia lust. Pure and simple, the dog in all of us came out. I remember distinctly watching Leer put his hands on Kayty’s hips—from behind, you know? Oh, how I wished it was me at that moment. I close my eyes and swoon over it. Sheer possessiveness. It doesn’t get any better than that, does it? I mean, when he stepped up to her, there was something gleaming in his eyes. The feral beast of a man-god. The alpha animal that is taking what he’s won. He was covered in blood. His clothes had been ripped off—or maybe he never had them on after he and Kayty did it the first time. I don’t know. The smell of them together was hot in the air with everything else. But it was like they were on center stage then. Light slid in from the window, splaying over them like a spotlight. And all I really know is that when he reached out for her, there was nothing sexier. Nothing more male than him in all his glory. Leer in crinos seemed to be, well, all there is. The pinnacle being. I can’t imagine anything better. And that’s because he didn’t just take her. With all that frenzy going on, there was a tenderness in his 14

Carys Weldon handling. Does that make sense? He had ahold of her, like he owned her, but you could tell there was respect, too. I’ve thought about it a lot. We watched him slide his hands over her, squeezing a few times like he was testing the feel of flesh on her bones, right there at her hips and then his roving fingers curved around her body, flitted over her breasts, cupping them. She arched a little, tipped her head to the ceiling. My gaze narrowed in, then on what was between them. His throbbing, ready-to-go cock. It fit between her ass cheeks, standing up at attention, the head glistening. Briefly, Kayty squeezed his hands on her breasts, then pulled them free as she leaned over. At least, that’s what I remember. Could have happened a little different. Next thing you know, Leer’s running one hand back down to Kayty’s hip and the other up the center of her spine, actually forcing her to bend over more. There was a little air between them for a split second, and he dipped his knees to get under her, to slide up inside her cunt. But he didn’t plunge into her. I remember the way his big, hairy legs kind’ve straddled around the outside of her thighs and hips, possessively-like. And the moment before he pushed himself in. Leer tangled his hands around the back of her neck, into her hair. Not pulling, just…hanging on. So, when he finally made the move to get inside her, I was salivating, breathing heavy, in total suspense. I swear, it was like slow motion. Every tender caress 15

Pack City etched in my brain. They did it a couple of times in a row, I think. On all fours, once. It’s all a blur. I just know he couldn’t get enough of her. Or she of him. He and Kayty have such a great thing between them. Makes me sigh. Oh, sure. I’d like to aspire to alpha. They say that my hormone change will have me looking at Kayty differently. Wanting her spot. Who couldn’t want to be with Leer? But I’m not all about that—quite—yet. Now, to be honest, I don’t look Kayty in the eye. She is my queen. I admire her. And she’s a fast learner. A little too clever. She makes no bones about how it is. She’s top bitch. And she proves it by backing up to Leer in front of us all the time. And, you know, it’s rather amazing that he can be so whipped by her juices and so virile at the same time. It’s like he found his strength in her. I’d like to do that for somebody.

16

Carys Weldon

Chapter One

I

close my eyes, sometimes, and try to imagine what it will be like, to be made love to. But all I get is teases. It’s hard to explain what it’s like to be a wolf. Smells rule your world. So, all my fantasies, daydreams, start with fragrances. Oh, I love the scent of flowers and the woods after rain. The smell of a fresh heart. I’m a girl. Right? Hearts and flowers. That makes sense to you, doesn’t it? But, I think, the most intriguing thing to me is the difference between men. Some plaster on bottled colognes. I always wonder about that. I mean, to me, there is nothing sexier than a guy that has his own scent. Fresh, clean. The all-male essence that makes a guy his own man. But that’s me. Kayty laughs at me when I say stuff like that. She says that most men need help. All the help they can get. I say, I want one that is all natural. But I was raised 17

Pack City in the woods. I’m used to seeing my kind without clothes. It’s hard to impress me. Okay, Leer totally impresses me. He has a cock the size of, well, I think it would need some serious lubrication to slide it in. But then, he literally drips with his want. Has all the females squeezing their legs together, friction-fucking themselves, licking their lips, thinking about doing things that would make him howl. But we can’t get near him. So, usually an episode with him and Kayty puts the crowd into orgy mode. At least, couples climbing on each other with no care to the audience. And those of us who haven’t hooked up, we just watch with our tongues hanging out. Are you curious to what that’s like? It’s actually kind of funny. Bitches snapping orders. Men on their knees. Women in charge of the tease. A whole lot of ass-kissing. And licking. Weremen have long tongues, and know how to use them. And those who don’t? They don’t last long. The last time Kayty and Leer did the deed in front of us, she pounced him. He was lying on his back, fully asleep, having what looked like a really good dream. His cock had turned into a rock rod. She stood over him for a few seconds, hands on hips, then looked around at the rest of us. Just her walking in had our attention. A smile on her face, she asked in her soft, husky voice, “How many people think this man should not be left to rest in peace?” We just chuckled collectively. 18

Carys Weldon Kayty’s pregnant. Did I mention that? So, she’s standing there, naked, her body round with the pups she’s carrying. Er, babies. Sorry. Definitely babies. Lot of kicking going on in there. Anyhow, she steps over Leer and looks down. She mumbles something about, “I gotta train him better. When I stand over him, he’s supposed to rise up and offer a little lip service.” You could tell she was thinking about calling his name, which would have made him sit up and, most likely, bump his face in her hootch. But she surprised us all. She dropped, rather lithely for a pregnant woman, I must say, onto her knees and hands. His shoulders and arms between them, if you can picture that. Her breasts, which are getting larger, hanging a little more with the weight of milk and pregnancy, or whatever, were barely missing his chin and cheeks. She rocked over the top of him for a minute, then hunkered her lower body down into position. Then, without warning or another word, she did a move that impaled her own body with his member. So, uh, that got his attention. I think Leer has nightmares that another woman will pounce him like that—and don’t think we haven’t all toyed with that idea. Anyhow, he absolutely pops his eyes wide open, automatically reaching out to get a hold on his assailant. Only she laughs, and he knows instantly that it’s Kayty. And he rolls her to her back in one smooth move. Yeah. Then he fucks her brains out, asking her the 19

Pack City whole time, “Is this what you wanted?” And she’s absolutely, fucking screaming, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” He asked, “What’s it take to get you to come?” And she says, “You losing control.” Pump. Pump. Pump. Slick. Slick. Slick. Slap. Slap. Slap—of skin against skin, in wet, very fluid, rhythm. His hips yanked and cranked harder and harder. His ass tightened up, and there was no question he was on the verge. And that’s about the time Kayty yells, “Wait. I’m almost there!” She’s tensing underneath him, writhing left and right, trying to get the exact spot, and he loses it then. Spills into her with repeated concussions. He had his body propped up on his elbows, I guess. I registered that later. And he cleared his throat, dropped his nose to her neck when he was done, and said, “Honey, you make me lose control every time.” She laughed, and squirmed some more. So he draws back and asks, “You came, right?” “Oh, yeah. But I wanna do it again.” Scooping her up with one arm slid under her back, around her waist, he rolled her again, kinda helped her up into a sitting position and said with his eyes closed, “This time, you do all the work.” Kayty wiggled around for a few minutes in an upright position, giggling. Guess he gets all tickly after he comes. She knows it drives him wild. He peeked. “All right, already. Stop unless you’re serious.” She bit her upper lip for a minute, merriment all 20

Carys Weldon over her face. She rubbed her nose. “Do me in crinos.” Leer laughed. He wasn’t doing anything but trying to sleep, and ignore her then. “No. Seriously. Do me something special.” “That wasn’t something special?” His hands rested on her legs. Huge hands, he’s got. Shrugging, Kayty played with him. “Well, I’ve had—” He thrust once, nearly unseated her. “Had what?” “Had bet—” Leer thrust again. His fingers tightened, massaged, kneaded, I guess you could say. “Tell me you love me.” She’s bossy. He laughed. She must’ve tightened her kegel muscles, because he winced. She asked, “You like that?” She did it again. I could just tell, by the way her ass muscles bunched. So, by now, we’re all smiling. We’re all turned on. There was no doubt that she was going to mercilessly make him come again by squeezing his cock until he couldn’t help but let loose with more of his precious body fluids. At this rate, he’s gonna die a happy man. I looked to the left, seeing a woman on all fours, commanding the guy behind her to lick. To go deeper. His cock hung to the dirt, leaking, and she made him keep it up until he literally came like that, screwing the air, pressing his face against her with all he was worth—laving to her urging. And then, to the right of me, a woman stood upright, one leg up on a rock, a man on his knees in front of her. You got it, his tongue was in her, too. Her 21

Pack City fingers ran through his hair while she watched. You could see when he got her close. Her ass tightened up, her fingers clenched. She wrinkled her nose. Why do these men service the bitches like that? Because, in a pack, females are fierce. If they make a man an outcast, he’s done. At least, that’s how it is at Pack City. But I hear tell that other packs are different. As you may have guessed, in Pack City, inhibitions just aren’t there. I hear I’ll have to learn some—if I want to live among humans. We’ll see how that goes. It sounds kind of fun, you know, to push the edges of what’s acceptable. I understand that the humans downtown are nothing like those I know. That the men actually, sometimes, manhandle the women. I’d just like to see a man try that with me. I could give him what for. Pin him on his back and grab him by the balls. Yeah, I think he’d be sorry he tried that. I wonder why human females don’t go for the goods. Hm. Maybe something I should ask Kayty sometime. Anyhow, most of my daydreams are pretty much re-enactments of things I’ve seen in Pack City. Like, just the other day, I had a tummyful—just eaten—and had stretched out in the shade, had my eyes closed, thinking about a nap, kind of drifting in and out. The sounds of licking perked up my ears, made me peek. This guy, who will remain nameless, had crawled on his belly—yeah, that happens a lot in Pack City. Sneaky suck-ups, that’s what I call them. It surprised me to see that they were in human form. Him and the woman he was with. I mean, you see it both ways in P.C. but it just caught me by 22

Carys Weldon surprise. Hunts are usually done in wolf form, didn’t notice anyone change back after. Oh, well. I heard her purr, which I think is what made me open my eyes in the first place. Okay, not like a cat purrs. Duh. But there’s a moaning, guttural sound that comes out of a female’s chest when you know she’s definitely liking what’s happening. She was doing that. So, I opened my eyes, kinda snoozy like. Yeah, I’m a voyeur. What can I say? I’m not apologizing. It’s the life of a dog. The life of a pre-change shifter. Anyhow, the chick rolls onto her back. She’s lying on a packed earth flat spot under a tree across the clearing, not really too far away from me. We have good eyes. I could see it all. Sun’s coming in through the leafy boughs above her, spreading dancing lights across her skin, made her look almost speckled with shadows. Drew attention to her nipples, which had puckered up. She wasn’t exactly beautiful, but she was sexy, the way she was laying there. Guess that’s what he thought, too. Makes me kinda smile. Smirk, you know? He had a look in his eyes, worshipping her, hoping she wouldn’t turn him away. Very subservient. Watching for any sign of her displeasure, all the while licking up her leg. I thought it was cool. I think he worked his way up from her insole. I opened my eyes about the time he got above her knee, on her inner thigh. 23

Pack City She made a little noise, a squeak of pleasure when he got about four inches from her crotch. My nose twitched. I guess that’s the point when he turned her to liquid. His tongue strayed upward while I watched, and moisture formed, slid out of her, wetting the curly little pelt of hair she had surrounding her womanhood. I saw her reach down and put her hands on the sides of his head, lift him up so she could look him in the eye. That kind of surprised me. I thought she would just lie back and enjoy it, let him dive in. But she took a minute to get eye contact with him. That’s a lesson for me. I think she read his intent, searched his eyes, waited to see the begging hope. I felt the first stirrings between my legs then, because I could see it, too. And I wanted, more than anything, to see that in some guy’s eyes. His throat convulsed a little and he finally managed to say, “Please.” That bitch smiled and then dragged his face to her crotch and said, “Better fucking do it right.” He lapped her lower lips, sucked, and slid his tongue in repeatedly. I sat up to watch. I think she reveled in the show, that I would think it was cool to watch her get this. She urged him several times. “Deeper, harder.” Once, she said, “Faster, you fuck.” And I saw her squirm then. She was holding his head to her, not letting him up for air. I could smell that she was close. And that’s when she pushed him away. Told him, “Hold up.” I don’t know which one of us was breathing 24

Carys Weldon harder. Definitely had a tingling going on through the center of my being, spiraling down from my navel to my cunt. And I was wet. Holy hell, was I wet. She had her head back, eyes closed, and her hands on her own nipples, tweaking them more. And suddenly, both their heads came up, and turned toward me. Guess they smelled my interest. The bitch clawed him up, sort of pulled him atop her and told him, “Fuck.” He plunged into her without a second thought, ramming her, really, but he was watching me. It lasted all of about two seconds before he grunted out his business. I had to get up and move then. But the thing about Pack City, when it’s in the air, it’s in the air. You can’t turn a corner without seeing something like that.

25

Pack City

Chapter Two verybody’s seen two dogs fucking. They sniff. They lick. She backs up and he climbs on. There’s a little bouncing action and then they’re stuck together. That’s because a canine’s cock head swells after he comes. I think it happens to help guarantee that the sperm go up inside, instead of leak out. Bitch almost always gets pregnant. When a werewolf is in wolf form, it seems that it always happens. He swells. They’re stuck. At least for a few minutes. When a wereman is in human form, it rarely happens. Almost never happens. But hell if it ain’t funny when you turn a corner and see it. It’s about the most perverse form of penile dysfunction you can get, I think. So, I leave the main clearing at P.C., slip through a few trees, skirt the council cave, thinking I’ll go and find a drink. Maybe cool off in the creek or something. But there, at the edge of the water, is the funniest thing I ever saw. I guess I should back up and explain something. Shifting forms is an art. Some of us just do it, with no

E

26

Carys Weldon conscious thought. We don’t know how it happens. Emotions, usually anger, tend to set the shift into gear. Some can control their shifting. That usually comes with age. Except, like I said, most of us don’t live that long. Every now and then, ya get lucky, and just know how to do it. But our emotions totally rule us. And our base nature, I don’t care if we’re born human or in wolf form, is to be a dog. But that’s my take. Anyhow, I loped toward the sound of water splashing, people yelling. At first, I thought they were just having fun out there, ya know? Several other people and wolves were lazing around, laughing. I sat back on my haunches to watch the show, figure out what was happening. “Fera,” my brother says to me. “You see that?” “Yeah.” But I wasn’t sure what it was. A man and a woman thrashing around in the water. “That’s what you get when you fuck the imbeciles.” My brother is a supremacist. Believes in separation of the classes. An order to all things. Thinks that those born wolves, who can shift, are the highest race on the planet. I like his logic. Trying to be clever, I asked, “What? Water sport?” “Yeah.” My head swung back toward the water. I moved my tongue around inside my cheek, trying to figure out what was so bad about what they were doing. “First, he tried to urinate on her.” I arched my neck, stretched out, kept watching ahead of me. Lots of people like that sort of thing. I 27

Pack City hadn’t quite decided yet, but I narrowed my gaze, tried to picture the beginning to the now-alligatorrolling couple. They were definitely thrashing around. She was trying to get free of him and he was hanging on, I think. It was hard to tell. “Aimed at her mouth.” I wrinkled my nose. Finally, I turned my head and asked, “Standing up, human?” He laughed. “Yeah.” The picture in my head really was kind’ve funny. I asked, “So, she didn’t really like that or what?” “She put up with it.” There are some rules at P.C. No sex without consent. “Well, did she open her mouth or not?” I shook my head when he didn’t answer right away. Like that was something I wanted to be held in suspense over. I grumbled, “Never mind.” Then I mentioned, “I’ve seen them together before.” “Everybody has.” The girl in the water came up spluttering, found her footing. And her partner yelled, “Thank Gaia! Will you just stand still for a few minutes now?” “I think they just like the attention. They are having a good time.” I really did think that. I saw no reason not to say it. “Maybe. But he’s a loser, Fera. Stay away from him.” “Why does he want her to stand still?” “Dolt half-shifted, told her to shift in the middle.” That made me gasp…and narrow my gaze a little more. Sure enough, I could see some tell-tale signs of 28

Carys Weldon half-in, half-out on both of them. My eyes popped. I stuck my lips out. “Yeah. Freaks.” That never cuts it in Pack City. Does something to the genetics, like the seed itself is in half warp. It’s almost like interbreeding within the breeding. But, the two of them were out there in the water and she leans forward, screaming, “Get it out!” “I can’t, baby.” The guy’s coaxing her. “Just relax.” “I can’t relax, you moron! There’s a crinos head inside of me, swelling up.” “You’d think that would feel good, to a point. I mean, the slow pressure building up inside,” my brother explained to me, “But it’s painful. Too tight. Too dry. And they’re in water, to boot. Natural lubrication is ruined.” Again, I looked over at him. “How do you know so much, you try it?” He laughed, hoarsely, like the dog he was, but he shook his head. “Nah. Seen it before.” “Oh.” “The biggest problem with the whole thing is, well, just watch. She’s fixing to get mad.” And she was. A minute later, the hair on the back of her neck stood up, and sprouted out. Her nose started to stretch. I saw her claws extend. And probably the funniest thing was the expression on his face. It was a definite, “Holy Shit.” He started backing up, dragging her with him by the connection they had at crotch level. Oh, was he backpedaling fast. And that just pissed her off more because she couldn’t get her balance. 29

Pack City Now, you’d think that her going crinos would help the situation. She’d grow in size, maybe be able to accommodate him better. And that may be, but more importantly, a bitch in crinos is fury unleashed. Muscled monster. She was just as likely to do a kegel and lop off his scrawny little head—inside her—as she was to turn around and swipe off his stupid look—at the neck. Either way it looked like he was screwed, in the full sense of the word. I had to ask, “Was it good, before it turned? He came, didn’t he?” My brother laughed. “Yeah, but she didn’t.” That made me wince. No wonder she was really pissed. That’s one of the first rules of sex. See to your partner’s personal pleasure before your own. Even I knew that. So, they were backing up, and both were getting mad then. And they kind’ve trampled over another couple that had been oblivious, or ignoring them. And then all hell broke out. Imagine these connected…people…spinning, trying to defend themselves from fang one and fang two. I decided that slipping out was a good plan.

30

Carys Weldon

Chapter Three

I

hope I’m not boring you, but I had to explain how things are done in Pack City, so you could understand what happened to me next. It seemed like I should get out; maybe run a bit, clear my head. Too many visual aids for sex, and no partner to do it with. And I’m telling you, my hormone levels were going whacko. As I passed some males discussing world affairs, their heads came up. And I mean, all their heads. I had a sudden frisson of fear climb over me when one called out, “Hold it, right there.” I suppose it’s the smell of arousal in the air. Tensing, I tried to tell myself, “Relax. This pack of dogs isn’t scary. They’ve never bothered you before.” But I’d never been at first shift prime before. Didn’t even realize that it had started. Very slowly, I turned my head, tipped it sideways and asked, “What do you want?” The one talking was a wolf of medium build. Did I mention that they were all in lupus, looking like wolves? Mostly, they were a shaggy lot. A little mangy. The single contingent of the pack. Good 31

Pack City backups, not outcasts, but definitely not of the ilk my brother and Leer were. They wouldn’t have said a word to me, if my brother had been anywhere around. These were among the imbeciles in my brother’s estimation. They laughed. All the hoarse little humor of true dogs. It irritated me. Probably the shift coming on. Moodiness is one of the first signs. Mr. Vocal says, “Where you going?” I squinted, wondering, what does he care? But I didn’t say anything, just tried to judge their mood. That wasn’t really hard. Their cocks were hanging, pink and stiff, moist and ready. Now, I don’t want to sound like a snob, especially since I was born a wolf—but I’m a woman. And at that moment, my entrapment in wolf form was getting old. I didn’t like cheap thrill dogs. Correction, I didn’t want any cheap thrill from any of those dogs. But instantly, visions of them chasing me down, raping me, came to mind. They’d done it before—to others. Oh, nobody could prove it—but girls had cried about it. Sometimes for weeks. The thing is, with something like that, they say you can’t tell them apart; the faces all blend together. You try to put the nightmare out of mind. I knew that one of the mistakes most of the girls had made was running. We’re predators, hello. Want to stimulate that hunting instinct, offer up a little chase for a tail-sniffing type and you’re gonna run your legs off, until they outwit you, and cut you off. So, I really struggled with the fear of being raped. 32

Carys Weldon Tried not to show it in my eyes, but I was damn scared. Felt like a real girl. Somewhere in my brain, though, my wit managed to surface. Instead of running, I sat down and noted, “I see you’re all up for a little action.” “Politics always gets us going.” “Oh, is that it?” I didn’t believe Mr. Vocal. Guess he was the only one with a tongue. “Care to give us a run?” My nose wrinkled. I asked, “Care to give me a show?” They laughed. I didn’t move. When they stopped laughing, I asked, “Well?” Mr. Vocal frowned for a minute, then asked, “What kind of show did you have in mind, little one?” Now, I’m not that damn little, and it’s a total insult to be, in any way, told you’re a runt—especially when you’re anything but. It definitely pissed me off. Looking directly at his ready staff, I said, “Listen, ya little peckerhead, I’d like to see a little fucking respect.” That got their attention. They blinked over that. Honestly, what empowered me was probably the scent of my brother and Leer coming toward us. They were mind-talking. Leer asked, I thought you told her not to leave P.C. I did, dammit. I’m gonna wring her little neck. You smell that? They were talking about me. With my body ready to change, big brother had put down his foot. Told me not to get outside the perimeter. And technically, I 33

Pack City was still inside the limits. Just barely. And just because I’d been stopped. I need to explain something. When you’re ready to go into the first shift frenzy, you have a definite urge to smell some fresh air, if you know what I mean. Maybe take a little run, check out some new sights. Fuck your brains out with somebody you never met before. So, you can imagine my brother’s irritation at the thought that I might go out and get pregnant with some freak’s bastard. Or worse, a human of no breeding. Not kin, like Kayty. Did I mention that my brother is Leer’s right hand man now? Or that his name is Hood? Got a really nice set of markings when he’s in lupus. Almost perfect. Well, about as perfect as you can get, really. And he’s bigger than Leer. Some say he should take over the pack. I’m sure he’s thinking about it. But, for now, he and Leer are cool. Mr. Vocal prompts, “Thinking up something good?” “Yeah.” I kinda smile. “Something real good.” Thinking on how to get you rapists crying. More of that damn hoarse laughing rose up. Jackals, they sounded like. I almost wanted to run, now that I was pretty sure Leer and Hood were on their way. Probably end up in all the dogs being put down. Don’t think I didn’t look to the woods outside of Pack City. Thought I saw something move, too. Narrowed my 34

Carys Weldon gaze. “I’m game. How about you?” The others agreed. For some, there’s not much they won’t do. It was easy to peg those bozos. “Shift.” It was an order. “Ah, not so easy,” Mr. Vocal apologized. “Some of us, ah, we need to get mad to do it.” “Fine.” I turned up my nose. “Just fuck yourselves, then.” Apparently, that irritated Mr. Vocal, because he freaking changed in a heartbeat. And maybe his sudden change made the others nervous. The next thing you know, the woods were filled with the sounds of all of them popping and grinding. Some of them had on some painful expressions, took way too long to change. I jumped at a few of the bone crunching snaps. They have to shift through crinos to get to human, so the view of this gruesome scene was pretty ugly. And, like I said, these were not prime specimens of the species to begin with. And most of them, as humans, were ugly as hell. Definitely a bunch of scrawny cocks. Though, I think they felt bigger down there as humans than they did in the previous form. I laughed a little. I knew I could outrun them all if they were on two legs and I got a head start. Even if they took a minute to change. It would be enough. Too easy. Really. What I didn’t realize was that the losers had been waiting for me. Pre-shift behavior, I guess, is pretty predictable. And honestly, I probably should have 35

Pack City mentioned…I’m like a princess in the pack, not that we have royalty per se. But I am one of the few clean blood descendents left. Makes me a good breeder. Since I felt pretty safe, I dropped to my stomach and said, “I was serious about fucking yourselves.” Okay. I’ll tell you now, even though they were lying in wait for me, they were carnal beasts first and foremost. Just having me say the words out loud made their cocks reach, throb, and ache. I took my turn, looked them in the eye, one by one, and said, “Go ahead. Stroke yourself. I want to see.” What I really wanted to see, suddenly, was them all coming at the same time. Or maybe servicing each other. I couldn’t make up my mind. Pictures floated quickly, in and out. But, again, something in the woods, the slightest movement, caught my attention, stole some of my enjoyment. So, with one eye on the troupe, and the other on the woods, I commanded them, “Squeeze your balls. Harder.” Yeah, I had to grin. “Harder.” Talk about pinching the blood flow. I think they liked it. “Now stroke.” It was pretty funny. I mean, really. Just picture it. Mr. Vocal asked, “And what do we get for this?” “Self-satisfaction?” I smiled bigger. “Or, you want something else?” “What I’d really like is a little piece of your ass,” Mr. Vocal, I think, wanted to talk dirty to me. You know, interactive like, instead of me just telling him what to do. Leer and Hood were a lot closer now. Hood said, 36

Carys Weldon Remind me again why you didn’t want me to lock her up. I made a face at that. It was common practice to lock a chick in a safe little place until her first change is over. Maybe keep her there for a bit until she gets a grip. Leer said, Kayty insisted. She really likes Fera. And she’s got her own ideas on how women should be treated. She has no idea what Fera’s capable of. Oh, I think she’s got a good idea. She went through it herself, you know. Not that long ago. She’s not wolf born. She has no idea. Hood’s voice had a guttural edge to it. Again, it was all mind talk. They were slinking, I bet, with every plan to sneak up on me and catch me doing something wrong. Seems like it doesn’t matter what I do, it’s wrong—leastwise that’s what Hood tends to think. Or so he tells me. He’s such a prude. Uncommonly private. Ya can’t trust a guy like that, can ya? “Why don’t you come over and give us a lick.” Mr. Vocal had no idea how un-fetching comments like that are. He waggled his stupid little spindle toward me. I said, “Why don’t you drop to your ass and lick yourself? I’m sure you’ve done it before.” Of course, he couldn’t do it in human. He’d have to go back to lupus. I immediately took it back. “I mean, wait.” His fingers stilled. I know he was a little confused. I mean, after all, I was talking dirty to him, but being bitchy. And I kept my distance. So, that was one of those deals where he wasn’t sure if he was doing 37

Pack City good or not. Stupid fuck. “I really would like to see something unusual.” He and his friends rubbed themselves harder. Guess they couldn’t help it, what with a female saying she wanted something more. “Why don’t you taste your own juice?” I batted my eyes. Hood asked in mind talk, Fera, if you can hear me, you better let me know where you are. Answering him would have stopped my fun. I couldn’t wait for him to find us on his own. “You mean, like this?” Mr. Vocal slid a finger over the hooded end of his cock and then put it to his lips. I asked, “You like the way it tastes?” I know he was thinking this could be one of those damned if I do, damned if I don’t situations. He took a gamble and said, “Yeah.” “Good. Lick his cock, please.” I let my nose dip toward the guy next to him. “All of you, pick a friend.” They weren’t sure if they wanted to do it. I mean, you could tell some of them were up for it. They’d turned to the guy next to them. That’s when Leer and Hood found us. Hood exclaimed, “What the fuck?” I tried not to laugh. Leer turned a sorry eye on his pack brothers, breathed out through his nose a few times, and, I’m sure, struggled for words. See, two dogs fucking is fine. Many dogs fucking is okay. But no females in the party, that smacks of straggle packs. No breeding. I’m not saying it’s bad. Just…not our deal at Pack City. 38

Carys Weldon Now, I didn’t realize it, but the little bit of excitement there had really started to get my juices flowing. So, you could say that, even though I don’t really go for it, it did kind’ve turn me on. In fact, I was a little disappointed I didn’t get to see a little more action before the others showed up. But my scent had definitely caught a little wind. Bitches started to circle in. And I think Leer forgave that sorry lot, just on basis of the fact that I was to blame. Irritated me a little. I mean, well, I don’t want to get into that. But mark my words, you don’t want to make a bitch mad. We tend to carry grudges. Kayty arrived, took a look around. Did I mention that the sudden arrival of everybody else didn’t make those knotheads take their hands off themselves? They kept on stroking, and started releasing in spurts. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Mr. Vocal dump his seed, then lick his fingers. And yeah, he was watching me the whole time. I pretended not to notice. The smell of fresh semen had everyone’s nose twitching. Again, though, I felt more than saw, a movement in the woods outside the perimeter line. I sat up. But you can sure as hell bet my ass was on the ground. Whatever was out there, I think, had come for smelling me. And it scared me, not knowing what it was. I peered toward the shadows, and that’s when I saw him. 39

Pack City

Chapter Four Hood’s voice had me snapping my head “Fera!” around in a quick swivel. “I thought I told you to

stay close.” That annoyed me. “I needed to stretch.” Hood’s gaze strayed to the losers. “Some stretch.” “I need to run.” Kayty said, “It’s coming. I can smell it.” She meant my change. Leer agreed. “Everybody in P.C. can smell it.” “Fera, why don’t you come back to the council cave? It’ll be safer for you there.” Kayty’s compassion almost suckered me in. But the eyes in the woods, I could feel them still. And I wondered who, or what, had smelled me and come. Come to make me come. That thought made me grin to myself. I wanted to come, go, out and see—and come. The thought kinda drumrolled through my brain, repeating itself until I forced it to quit, tried to gather my wits. “You think I’m not safe here?” I asked Kayty, but my gaze strayed around the circle. I’d just unloaded half the loser guns in Pack City. Most of the others 40

Carys Weldon were mated already. Not that it wouldn’t have stopped them from doing it doggie style with me, if I wanted. But I wasn’t yet primed. You know how it is with a dog bitch, when she’s not ready? Or a woman who doesn’t want sex, but has an ardent pursuer? We just ain’t backing up for it, ya know? I assured them all, “I guarantee you, I won’t be taken before I’m ready.” My voice rose. I wanted it to carry to my stalker. “Nevertheless, why don’t you come inside?” Kayty practiced her crooning voice. She used it on small pups, Leer, and now me. I wanted to roll my eyes. But that would have been disrespectful. Instead, I dropped my gaze to her feet and got up, shoulders hunched, and said, “Fine.” It wasn’t fine, though. I took a few steps and looked back over my shoulder. Something in me wanted it to leap in and steal me away, or fight my whole damn pack. I know, there’s no sense in that sort of thinking. But then, that all goes out the window when it starts. And my shifting had started. As I walked behind Kayty, listening to the grumbled complaints of others—some whining because they’d missed the loser’s twenty-gun salute—so to speak, there weren’t really that many of them. Some complained because they wanted to see me endure a little pain. Blood envy. Did I mention that some don’t survive the first change? It can be pretty horrific. I think maybe some of my kin were half hoping that would happen to me. Not because they didn’t like me, really, but it would 41

Pack City kind of put Hood in a different place. He wouldn’t be able to lift his head up, because everyone would wonder if our blood was tainted. And, like I said, he’d run his mouth pretty good on that matter. I wasn’t worried about that, though. I started to walk, heard the mutterings, and suddenly started to feel my muscles stretch, tighten. I reached out with my neck, let out a little whine, had to stop. Kayty looked over her shoulder at me. “You okay?” “Yeah.” She waited a second, watching me. I saw her nose wiggle. Then her head whipped around. Mr. Shadow wasn’t, apparently, a secret any more. They all smelled him about a second later. But—no one moved. The only way you could tell was by that stillness, a sudden silence. Leer flicked his left hand in a simple gesture. Two bitches slipped away. He said, “I think the den is too obvious. Take her to the other place.” “Right.” Kayty grabbed my collar. Gaia-damned collar. Stylish little piece of human apparel. I thought it was cute. Now I knew why my brother had groaned and promised, “You’ll be sorry about that little piece of rebellion.” I dug in my feet. Let my eyes flash. This other place had to be the lockdown. A garrison. A hellhole. She assured me, “Just until. I promise.” Now, Kayty’s word had always been as good as gold. I had no real reason not to go. They were looking out for me. I tried to tell myself that. But curiosity, and raging hormones were really 42

Carys Weldon ruling my brain and body. I whispered, “I don’t want to be locked up.” She’d been studying up on history. She whispered back, “Just be glad they’re not cuffing and shackling any more, Fera. Come on.” We took a few steps toward P.C. main. Now would probably be a good time to talk about the one type of werewolf that I think you’re most familiar with. The ones that are bitten. Mutants. The unnaturals. We really have laws against making that happen. But, you may have guessed, the losers sometimes get bested. They attack with intent to kill, but get run off before the job is done. Usually, if we hear about an unnatural, the pack takes a trip to the city, does a quick and efficient hunt, takes care of the problem. No one wants to report an unnatural. At least, in any way that would suggest they’re responsible for the creation. Sloppy half-kills are worse than massacres in our opinion. So, sometimes losers make mistakes. Who doesn’t? But their mistakes become nightmares; confused beasts whose hunting and killing instincts have been heightened, as well as their night vision and other senses. Their instincts also draw them to us. Sometimes they steal our weaker members. Believe it or not, they terrorize us. They certainly have a heightened urge to mate. I should also say here that we generally don’t go after the human population for our meals. Oh, we kill them plenty—when we interact in the business world and they get in our way, or that sort of thing. But we 43

Pack City are pretty selective in our ‘prey.’ And honestly, humans can’t run fast enough to give enough thrill for a hunt. And they tend to paralyze somewhere in the brain section when they’re under extreme stress. We are, above all, predators of the highest order. We like a challenge. Sorry, average humans just don’t make the grade. ~snicker~ A deer provides a better challenge than most people. So, you’d think that an unnatural would be the ultimate in prey, especially after they go crinos. Some think so. Most of us are a little smarter than that, and recognize the personal risk. When it comes down to it, we’re not half the beast that you might think. We think rationally, weigh our odds. But we can’t afford to let an unnatural roam free. Well, roam at all. If they go and half-bite people, we’d have a zombie-type nightmare on our hands. They’d maybe start a pack of their own. And then we’d have real trouble. I probably should have mentioned that it was late, late enough for the early rising moon to be up. Dusk had fallen while the losers did their deal, and yeah, the moon was full. Hood saw me balking. He snapped, “Go, Fera,” like I was a domesticated dog. Talk about making me see red. I mean, I am the prime pussy of the moment. And I’m not talking about cats. Leer shook his head, even he was having trouble 44

Carys Weldon trying to clear his brain. He said, “Kayty, get her put up now.” I thought that was interesting. I really balked, then. That was a new little tidbit of empowerment. I’d always thought there was just something that couldn’t be breached between him and Kayty. But his reaction, his body language, made me think…just maybe…there was hope. Kayty squashed that in one feral snap-and-pop shift to crinos. It’s like playing rock, paper, scissors. Lupus beats human. Crinos beats lupus. She said, “All right, bitch, I can smell your heat.” She dragged me off then. It was degrading, made me furious. And I could feel my inner self grinding its will to get out, to fight my cause. I started thinking like a real bitch. Thinking I could maybe slice Kayty once, in the belly, and it would be all she could do to slash back—her mothering instinct would have her dropping to a ball. It’s kind of ugly when you get right down to it. And I don’t like looking back at those moments when she was hauling me across the compound. But surprise of surprise, she didn’t toss me in the garrison. She threw me into the den and then scrunched down on her haunches like a Neanderthal. Her eyes flashed and her teeth gnashed, and I knew she was warring with a few inner truths of her own. She said, “Make no mistake, Fera. I’ll kill you before I let you near Leer.” I had to chuckle. After all, if Leer wanted me, she would be out, period. I’d have to watch my back forever, until she was put down, but Leer really made 45

Pack City the ultimate choice. At the moment, I didn’t take the time to realize that he’d just made that decision. He didn’t care that his instincts were to take the hot female. His heart and his brain had already made its pick. Kayty. I can see that now. And that makes me okay with the choices I’ve made since then—but I’ll get to that. Pacing the cave, thinking about tackling her, wondering how long before the change would be complete, I felt my bones stretching, knew I was growing, my legs lengthening, strengthening, becoming denser. I expected a body-numbing pain to hit me at any time, to drop me to the floor in writhing agony. “You think that’s funny?” She wasn’t amused. In fact, she was downright irritable over it. Clouds must’ve moved in the sky, because her form became illuminated. Her pretty head tipped up to look at it. Could’ve been a mistake, her taking her eye off me. But she said, “I hate pack life, Fera.” I knew that wasn’t true. She just didn’t like certain aspects of it. Kayty loved being part of the group. And her position in the pack made her feel connected, something she hadn’t ever had before. She’d told me that numerous times. Kayty sniffed. “You’re my friend. My best friend here, besides Leer.” She sniffed again. I couldn’t believe it. She was crying? Showing me her weakness? Yes, she was definitely crying. I slinked closer. Was this some sort of trick? 46

Carys Weldon She sniffed again and looked at me. Her jaw hung halfway open and I saw her tongue running along the bottom of her side teeth. She had a hand lying gently over her belly. The other reached up and pushed her hair back and she said, with another sniff, “I know what you’re thinking.” “You do?” I saw her babies move. My gaze must’ve darted noticeably. She moved her hand a little, protectively. She’s too big to be only having one. At least, that’s what I think. Her fingers soothingly smooth the flesh in a repeated motion. I think it was absentminded, that she didn’t even realize she was doing it. Kayty smiled, “You’re wrong, Fera. What you perceive as my weakness is my one great strength. You see, I don’t think I could kill a friend—if it weren’t for my babies. Kinda changes my perspective.” “Can you read minds now?” “No.” She got up, stretched her back, peered out into the dark. “It’s too quiet.” “They’re hunting it.” “You should be afraid,” she said. “He is coming for you.” “You are the only thing I’m afraid of.” She smiled again. I saw it in her profile. Then she shook her head, and I knew, if I fell to the floor, she wouldn’t pounce me. I sent a prayer up to Gaia. And I wanted to cry. Emotions up and all that. Maybe a little relief, probably a little guilt mixed in. Suddenly, howls went up. They echoed through the woods. 47

Pack City Kayty told me, “Bitches are coming in.” “That doesn’t sound like they made a kill.” “No.” She giggled. “But you’re starting to reek.” “Ah. They’re coming for the show.” “What did you expect, Princess?” She knew I didn’t like being called that. Hood dubbed me with it, back when I was a pup. “You know, after tonight, I think you won’t have to look away when others call you that.” She was amused. “Yeah. I think there will be a little respect when they say it.” It was always said with a sneer. I’d confided to Kayty, the first time she’d used the word on me, that I didn’t like it. She was the only one who hadn’t kept it up. “You’re really changing.” Kayty tipped her head, watching me. “It’s all good.” “It doesn’t hurt.” She let out a little laugh. “Good breeding, what can you say?” “It’s supposed to hurt.” “Who says?” “It always hurts. Everyone says so.” “Did Hood have any trouble?” “Who knows? He never talks about things like that.” Outside, a female voice asked, “Can we come in?” “I don’t think so.” Kayty—you know—she really is great. She pulled herself up to her full height and said, “The only person coming in here is Leer.” And, as an afterthought, she said, “And maybe Hood.” The voice said, “You cheat her. She gets this one 48

Carys Weldon night.” “She’s not going nuts.” Kayty put her hands on her hips. And, really, she was magnificent—everything I wanted to be. Standing there with the moon shining on her. I really admired her at that moment. “She will.” Snickers, crack comments. They couldn’t wait. Kayty asked, “Anybody seen Leer?” “He and Hood are setting up a trap…for the unnatural.” I told her that. Every now and then I got thoughts passing between them. Coming up from behind Kayty, I peeked out, and asked, “Have they figured out who caused it?” A bitch said with irritation, “One of the losers.” “Oh.” I sniffed the air. “That’s what I figured.” Everyone else put their noses up, too. “Hey,” the bitch that had been talking to Kayty said, “How come you’re—” She backed up, eyes bulging, like she was afraid. And behind her, all the rest backed up, too. That’s when I realized—I towered over Kayty. Well, not towered. Had her by an inch, though. She and I looked at each other. And you know what? She smiled again, and this time, she said, “Told you.” I don’t have a conscious recollection of standing up, human like. I won’t lie. For a minute, I thought, damn if I’m not gonna see about snagging Leer. And I knew, if I was gonna do it, that was probably the night. I had to give the bitches the slip. Like I said before, I hadn’t worked through the earlier scene, where he’d told her to put me up—like a dog. 49

Pack City “I need to relieve myself.” Kayty chuckled. “Right.” “And I’m getting hungry.” The other bitch said, “That’s the bloodlust coming on. It’s gonna get worse.” And then, as if she and Kayty were old friends, she said, “Remember the night you—” Kayty cut her off, though, “Yeah. Let’s not talk about it.” But we damn sure thought about it. “Why not?” Talk about your insistent bitches. I think she was looking for a little stimulation, to stir me up, maybe. “We need to pay attention, listen, keep our eyes out.” Kayty had a no-nonsense attitude. I asked, “So, you think I’m done?”

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Chapter Five

I

t looked like I’d gone through the change without any of the pain, or real mood swings. I’ll be honest, none of us could believe it. I felt a little let down. And part of me was angry. I wanted to shift all the way to human form. I also wanted, more than anything, to hook up with somebody that night. I was lonely as hell, and it seemed like my big night was all over. I was under watch. And I didn’t seem to be out of control. It was total bullshit. But I guess Gaia must’ve heard my inner complaints. All hell broke loose. The losers, in a band, ran past the council cave— like they were being chased. They broke through the trees, yelping, growling, leaping rocks—all in lupus. After the shock, all us bitches laughed. I mean, they were there, practically killing themselves, and then gone. “What the hell was that all about, do you think?” The bitch who said that went to the edge of the rocks at the left of the den’s opening, climbed up and tried to see. “Idiots.” 51

Pack City “Maybe they ran off the unnatural,” I shrugged. But that was wrong. Way wrong. The unnatural broke through the trees, too. And…Oh. My. Gaia. More man than wolf. Crinos with a high human input. Not so hairy. He flexed his hands, looked both ways. We were all speechless. Damn, he was fine. Oh my Gaia, he was fine. I know the moment was only that, a moment, but he looked through the dark, right at me, with green laser light eyes. Right past Kayty, and all the other females. And then the corner of his lip went up. Fucking confident smirk. That’s all I can say. Then he took off. A leap, a bound. Gone. It took the bitches about two seconds of looking back and forth at each other before they went after him. All I can say is—maybe there’s a whole lot more bullshit in the things we’d been taught about the mutants. I mean, we’d been told to stay away, to hunt them down, never to create them. But I was thinking, damn if that wasn’t all wrong. I turned to Kayty and said, “Okay. I’m rethinking what I’ve been told.” “Don’t.” I know what she meant. Don’t even think it. Don’t go against the pack’s rules. Don’t even think it. I couldn’t help it. I thought it. I stood there, looking her in the eye, letting his image run back and forth in my head. Leer mind talked to Hood. It’s set. Where is he? 52

Carys Weldon Bitches are chasing him. We could hear them. They were having a great time, it sounded like. Leer reached out with his thoughts to one of the better bitches. Bring him to me, baby. I told Kayty, “Leer’s telling them to bring the mutant his way.” “Thanks.” Kayty stepped out of the den’s opening, tipping her head so she could hear the nuances in the howls better. We lost him. When I heard that, I almost laughed out loud. A whole damn pack of bitches, and they lost one quarry. It was funny. Hood’s growling thoughts were broadcast loud and clear. So, find him. Use your damn noses. Fuck. Then, to Leer, he said, What do you want to do now? One of us is going to have to go after him, I think. I thought that was priceless. Superman Werewolf to the rescue. Hood asked me, Fera! How are you doing? I didn’t answer. I know, if he ever gets a hold of me, he’ll wring my neck. Instead, I turned to Kayty and said, “Leer needs you.” “What? Bullshit.” She bit the inside of her cheek and looked away. I know, I was lying through my teeth, but I had a real, sudden urge to get the hell out of Pack City. To see if I could hunt down the unnatural on my own. Wouldn’t that be about the best kill of the century? The perfect shift gift. 53

Pack City Leer might have to trade Kayty out, if I could catch the guy and kill him. “No shit. The bitches lost him. Leer and Hood are going to try and trick him around to their trap.” “What trap did they set?” I was itching to move, but I knew I had to do the chat to get her to do the walk. “They have that pit between the rocks.” They’d been prepared, just in case other werewolves from other packs got whiff of me. But for the most part, I’d been watched for awhile now, kept where the wind couldn’t pick up my scent and carry it too far. Pack City sits outside of a human town, in the middle of a wildlife reserve, in a canyon of boulders and caves. Entries are easy to guard. But, like any good fortress, there’s more than one way out. “I’m wondering how he found his way here in the first place,” Kayty was thinking out loud. “I mean, you damn near have to get directions to this place.” “Maybe he heard the losers talking, before they bit him.” “Maybe.” “Leer really thinks you’d be some help.” It didn’t really jibe. I mean, he was pretty protective of her, now that she was getting close to having her young. I had to be convincing. “You’re alpha female, Kayty. He thinks you’ve got what it takes to flush the guy out.” “It might take a little longer, but the other bitches will pick up his trail.” I was sure of that, too, and, in fact, was a little surprised they hadn’t set up a wail already. I said, 54

Carys Weldon “Seems eerily quiet, don’t you think? I mean, for a full scale hunt being underway.” “Yeah. I don’t like it.” I could tell she was getting nervous. She asked, with her eyes on the edges, “You sure Leer wants me out there?” I hesitated, pretended like I was asking him silently. “Yeah. He’s not real happy with the bitches. They’re taking too much time. Kinda scattered.” “Man, I wish I could mind talk.” She bit her lip. Prodding her, I said, “Have I ever lied to you?” “No. But I can’t leave you alone.” “I’m fine. Remarkably, irritatingly, fine.” She turned her head to look at me. “It’s unnatural.” “What?” “The fact that you’re not even moody.” “Believe me, I’ve been pretty bitchy today. Feeling a little irritable with you. You need to go.” Still, she refused. “Let’s go back inside.” “You’re supposed to be an alpha female, Kayty. You’ll lose respect if you don’t get in on this.” “No.” “He’s calling for you again.” Her jaw worked overtime. “Tell him I can’t come.” That was funny. I said, “Bet that’s the first time he’s heard that one.” She snickered, too. Then said, “Your brain’s in the gutter, Fera.” “I kinda like this gutter.” I sat down, stretched, arched, looked up at the moon. The cloud covering had run off. “I wonder if that whole myth about mutants and full moons is true.” “Moon’s full. My bet is yeah.” 55

Pack City I shrugged. I pretended not to really care, even though I was the one that had posed the question. Then, I pretended like I was going to pass out. “This night’s made me tired.” I closed my eyes. A few seconds later, I murmured, “He’s still asking for you, wondering where you are.” “Tell him I’m right where he told me to be.” I smiled. “He told you to take me to the other place.” “He didn’t mean that. It was a ruse, to confuse. We worked it out before, what to do with you.” Rolling my back to her, I said, “Figures.” Not very much time passed while we were having that conversation, but it seemed like forever. Finally, she said, “Tell me you didn’t go to sleep out here.” I thought about ignoring her, but instead I said, “I would, if you’d stop talking. I’m not kidding, I feel like I’ve been through—” “Go inside. I’d feel better. I wasn’t supposed to let you out at all.” Sitting up, I said, “Look. I’m fine. He wants you.” She held her ground. “Go inside.” I didn’t wait for her to order me again. Old habits die hard. But it grated. I slink-crawled into the cave, and slumped against the wall, wracking my brain for a way to get past her. Hood showed up, demanding, “Where is she?” “Inside. Why?” “She didn’t answer.” He was breathing heavy. He peeked in on me, muttered, “Bitch,” before he saw me. But I don’t think he could believe his eyes. A minute later, he stood in front of me. 56

Carys Weldon I don’t care if he is my brother. In crinos, he’s fucking fantastic. Guess he didn’t think I looked so bad, in my new form, either. He asked, “Do you hurt?” All I could do was shake my head. “I heard he came through here.” “Outside.” I shrugged. We both knew what had happened. The mind talk pretty much makes that kind of info easy to relay. “So, you were inside, didn’t see him?” I couldn’t lie about that. I just batted my eyes at him and smiled. Big brother reached down and grabbed me by my arm, lifting me to my feet. Dragging me to the door, he told Kayty, “She needs locked up.” “Why?” Kayty wasn’t breaking her plan with Leer without an explanation. “Because—smell her.” My smile grew wider. I liked knowing that the scent of me was an aphrodisiac of the highest kind, that my brother was worried, protective. “I can’t believe the losers aren’t back.” Kayty said, “Something is definitely not right here.” “That’s what I’m saying. She’s got the scent.” He pointed with his free hand. “It’s running down her legs, she’s so ready. So tell me, where are they?” She told him, “They came through.” “I know.” He gritted his teeth, hauling me hard toward the lockup. Leer grumbled in mind talk. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Hood asked, What? The losers ran into the trap. 57

Pack City Hood let loose with a few expletives, tossed me in the lockup, slammed the door, and said, “Losers fell in the trap. I gotta go and help Leer get them out. That trap’s no good now.” Sure enough, their howls were easy to hear. Kayty winced, “How could that happen?” I had a feeling. Call it intuition. I remembered the losers, sitting, talking politics—and the lurker not too far away. What if—they had brought him in? But why would they do that? Or ruin the trap? That was just stupid. Wasn’t it? Unless…the unnatural wasn’t defective. Maybe he’d marshaled them, like troops? Had them working on his side? Still, running into a trap, to redirect attention seemed silly. To what purpose? I figured I’d have plenty of time to ponder it. Hood said, “Ran right into it, from the sounds of it.” “Should’ve told the rest of us where you were building that new trap.” I had my face to the door, growled through the slats. “Be quiet.” Hood’s patience was thin. Kayty said, “What does Leer want me to do?” “Stay put.” “But—” I guess my comments had Kayty feeling like maybe she should get out and help. “I gotta go.” Hood bounded off. Kayty checked the triple locks. Only Leer had the combinations. And then she said, “Fuck this.” She disappeared, too. So, there I was, sitting in my stupid cell, thinking horrid thoughts about all my relatives. Plotting 58

Carys Weldon murder, actually. And then I heard something. I moved back to the door, pressing my ear, then my nose, sniffing. It was him. How he’d managed to slip them all, and circle back—after Kayty and Hood left—without them getting wind of him, I don’t know. The rattling of the locks was minute. I backed up, half afraid of what I’d see when the door opened. I mean, maybe I’d been dreaming earlier. And how did he get the locks off? Those were special locks. Expensive locks. Manufactured for werewolf containment. The door swung wide and we faced each other.

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Chapter Six nce again, I had the brief thought: Oh. My. Gaia. I had never seen anything so…unique. I wanted to explore him right there. Well, actually, I wanted to throw him down and straddle him right there, in the cell. His eyes glowed neon green. They dropped immediately to my pubic area, and I know he was thinking similar thoughts—fuck me fast on the spot. Liquid did run down my legs. I watched his nose wrinkle in appreciation. His eyes flashed. My nose lifted, taking in all that it could, the change in his own body chemistry when he smelled me up close for that first time. Definite reaction. Sweet sweat, I’d call it. A clean scent. For all the hideand-seek he’d been playing, he had a remarkably fresh thing going on. Or maybe it just worked for me. It had a musk overlay that got stronger the longer he stood there. You can’t bottle that shit, werewolf pheromone. It seemed like the silence between us stretched. I waited for him to make a move. Honestly, I figured he’d go for the one fast fuck, despite the fact that he

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Carys Weldon was likely to die in the progress of it. Creatures of instinct, and all that. Right? Now, it never occurred to me to turn him down. Back to that whole senseless thing. I might not have looked out of control, but I definitely had a reckless thing going on. I blinked at him, just once. A quiet way to say, it’s your move. Guaranteed not to tip Hood and Leer off that he’d circled back to the den. Nothing so noisy as a sound. But, only briefly, I wondered…if Leer came and saw this new wolf on top of me, would he claim me? Would he slit the intruder’s throat, and be forced to take me as the prize of the win? He cocked his head, listening. The bitches were coming back, from the sounds of it. Next thing I knew, he reached in, grabbed me by the hand and pulled me from the cell. We didn’t talk. We just moved. In sync, ya know? When he went to draw me to the left, I shook my head, took him another way. There was something just ‘right’ about it, if that makes any sense. At least, that’s what I thought at the time. I didn’t want Leer forced into taking me. And I didn’t want to fight Kayty for the right to stay with him. I figured Gaia had her own plan for me and this was my destiny. So, I led him out of Pack City. Through some caves, things we had to crawl through. That probably drove him crazy—what with me leading the way and him sniffing up my butt the whole time. He showed remarkable restraint, I thought. I mean, he could’ve yanked me at any time, thrown me down, and climbed on, but he didn’t. Or 61

Pack City just got a hold on my legs, and climbed up over my back, and fucked me doggy style. But, like I said, he didn’t. There’s no way in hell you can tell me he didn’t think about it, though. I damn sure did. And a few times, I paused, with my legs spread, just so he could look up at and contemplate what he could be taking advantage of. Yeah. You could say I wanted him to suffer a little. For Gaia knows, I was freaking going nuts over the odd sensations rolling through my body. You see, I had no idea that my change was still going on. That I was metamorphosing as we moved. I thought I’d reached the end of my first shift. That I would have to learn to force a through-to-human change. There are exercises you can do, to get to the desired form. Painful sometimes, and involving hours of meditation and many more hours of prayer and supplication to Gaia. And there are things you can take into your diet that will help that, too. Fasting followed by—oh, never mind. The point is, I was still in the middle of shapeshifting, actually blipping a little—shifting a tad more human, and back again toward the more ‘wolfy.’ Hair came and went. My nails would extend, then retract. But I didn’t feel a thing. Except, maybe, that when I was more lupus, my urge to eat, to kill something, to get snippy-angry seemed to flash a bit more. And when my humanity rose up, I was more apologetic, and definitely coming around to stopping, rolling onto my back and saying, “For Gaia’s sake, just fuck me. Puhleeease just fuck me.” I thought of doing that—over and over again. But 62

Carys Weldon while we were in the vicinity of Pack City, within the perimeter, it wasn’t safe to indulge in sexual needs. By then, my urges had become a ‘gotta have’ more than a ‘want’. And I knew I needed more than a quick romping roll. And so did he. Maybe he could smell it? Or felt it in his bones? To me, it sure felt like it was all bone-deep. My pelvis literally ached. My thigh muscles convulsed from time to time. Now that they bulged more, and rubbed against one another, I realized the full implication of friction fucking oneself. That drove me to the edge, let me tell you. Made me cream more in anticipation. Made him drop his tongue out. Once, he grabbed my ankle, said, “Hold up.” I went still. I had no idea what was going on, ya know? Could have been a bug or a rock or something he needed to move. Something I’d missed. We were crawling through a honeycomb underground labyrinth, remember? So, I hear him huff. I feel his other hand reach up to touch my other leg, near the thigh, just above the back of my knee. The space was too tight for me to turn around and see. A minute later, I felt his tongue. Holy shit. Teasing, tickling, damn fine, motherfucking tongue. Sliding up my inner thigh—while I’m pinned— reaching, stretching, tasting. Niggling at my cunt until my eyes rolled back in my head and I thought, in. 63

Pack City Nothing more than that. Just…in. He definitely tasted me. I heard him slurp. I felt his head between my legs, and there I was on my belly, thinking, “Shit. Put it in.” But he growled, “Fuck. We need to get out of here. My cock’s getting downright painful.” That made me laugh. I crawled a lot damn faster after that. I guess we both knew that, to explore each other properly, we really had to get out of Pack City. Out of those damn caves. Honestly, we were leaving a trail of scent that a blind skunk could follow. The only reason we weren’t caught up with, I think, is that we really were moving at a fast pace. But even at that, it actually took hours to get to a point of safety. Hours of convoluted trail crisscrossing after we got out of the caves. Off and on, we heard the dogs, probably the whole pack, on our trail. Now there’s an adrenalin rush. I’ve been on the run ever since. I know, eventually, Hood will catch up with me, try to drag me back. But I can’t think about that. Not now. I’m too wrapped up in something I thought I’d never find. My crinos energy, enhanced by the whole first shift thing, was phenomenal, and he, too, felt that, I think. You could say, we adventured that night, with a sense of destiny in our bones, driving our muscles to explore the limits of what they could do. Leaping boulders, making incredible jumps from cliffs. Sucking water greedily when we came to streams and lakes. 64

Carys Weldon It felt like we’d been together forever. I know that sounds crazy. But, we didn’t really think. And we didn’t talk that much. We didn’t want to take a chance that the pack would hear us. I certainly didn’t have time to meditate about the coming dawn, or what would happen if he shifted back—and if I didn’t. Or if I shifted back to lupus. In crinos, we were perfect for each other. I don’t think either of us wanted to delve beyond the moment. Somewhere, not too far before the sun came up, we stopped, got our breath. Friction filled the air around us, between us. Total expectancy. You’d think we’d be too worn out to fuck. We’d finally gotten ‘off the map.’ I don’t think either of us had a clue where we were. Everything looked different. The rocks, boulders, canyon and caves had thinned out and then thickened up with woods, and finally, opened up into more and more clearings of huge size. We’d surely gone miles. Above us, the stars dotted the indigo sky with bold bits of light. No breeze wafted. And I just knew that it was the place where I would find my fulfillment. When I had my lungs full and had rested, I looked over at him. He, too, had taken in the change in scenery. His gaze dropped to the grass at our feet. High meadow. I know. You’re probably thinking, “What the hell’s his name?” Him. He. I was thinking the same thing. After all that adventure, and I still had no clue what to call 65

Pack City him. And I wasn’t sure how to go about asking it without sounding stupid. After all, here I was, having run off with him, spent most of the night playing chase and escape. And now we were looking at each other blankly, not sure what to say, or how to say what we were thinking. Our struggles were easily visible on our faces, I think. At least, his was. Finally, he blurted, “What the hell’s your name?” I pursed my lips, holding back a grin. “Fera.” “Pretty.” Obvious flattery. My gaze darkened, narrowed, and I said, “Beats being called bitch.” He made a face, then flicked his hand, as if dismissing a thought. “Well,” he grinned in an almost lyrical voice, “my little stolen bitch,” that turned to a growl, and dropped its playfulness immediately that he said my name, “Fera, I have to tell you—” I bent closer, watching his face, because he seemed so serious suddenly. “I have this indescribable urge to lay you down and fuck your brains out.” He stole my breath away with the guttural announcement. Our gazes kind’ve clung to one another, until I worked through the glint in his eyes, retraced his words. His little stolen bitch. Airily, I taunted, “Why don’t you?”

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Chapter Seven he had won me. With a little help, maybe. Honestly, But he’d secured me from the pack, had led me—

Okay, that part’s debatable, but you get the drift—he had me alone now. I’m sure he considered the whole fast fuck thing again. I know I did. Could see it happening, right there, with my eyes open. His nostrils twitched. And a sexy little smirk appeared on his lips. He lifted his eyebrows, and said, “Maybe I’m waiting for you to beg.” “Ha!” I turned my back. That had almost been a slap in the face. Felt like it at first. And it wasn’t what I expected. It made me mull over the words, his expression. And he waited on me to catch up, respond. He wasn’t some brainless twit running on base urges. Well, he might have been running on base urges, but he had a sense of humor, I could see that. And he wasn’t pouncing me like an animal. Not that I necessarily would have had a problem with that. But, apparently, he thought I’d taken it too seriously, was considering it too long. Only he was smart enough to 67

Pack City know I wasn’t, not once, thinking about begging him to fuck me. I am a princess. No way was I begging. My back went stiff. I honestly thought about chewing his throat open. You know, how I could turn, pounce, and rip him apart. Slash my heart like that, telling me to beg. Instant anger filled me. And fury. Fury for all the time I’d waited to pick a mate. And what had I done? All that destiny bullshit. Who had filled my brain with that? Kayty? Hood? He reached out and touched my shoulder. A light, almost non-existent prodding for me to turn back around. I just twisted my neck a little so I could look at him—reproachfully. “You should, you know.” Beg. I knew that was what he was talking about. Only this time, his eyebrows wiggled up and down, so obviously willing me to take the suggestion that it was laughable. That’s when I saw his nervousness, his desire to make me smile. He was waiting for it, hoping I was smart enough to get the fact that he’d been trying to break the tension a little. Damn, I felt slow all of a sudden. I rolled my eyes, smiled. Told myself, okay, he was being funny. But I’ll admit, for a minute there, I’d thought he was serious. It could’ve ended real badly. With all the charm I think a man could have, he said, “By the way, my name’s Jack.” Like spreading that name out there was supposed to impress me. Jack. What kind of name is that? A confusing one. One that made it hard to think. Or was it his touch? 68

Carys Weldon Or did he think I wouldn’t have asked? I skewered him with my gaze for a minute, trying to figure out where he was coming from. I blinked a little. His features appeared more human. Less hair, maybe. I wondered what he looked like in human form. Or what he’d look like if he shifted to full lupus. In crinos, he was definitely all that. He was pretty big, but not monstrous, like some oafs get to be in that form. And his hair had a silvery sheen to it. White with silver tips. Black around his ears. I looked at his hand, which had lifted from my shoulder, to flutter all the way down my arm, snagging my fingers. Powerful hands. Yet, tender. Tugging. “So, Fera, tell me what we do now.” “What? You need instructions?” My eyes bulged, I’m sure. A little shock and surprise, maybe? Then my brain kicked in and went off. I realized how silly my questions were. Crinos guaranteed our instincts. Super hormonal activity. Duh. But I wanted to giggle. I mean, holy shit, we could’ve been in trouble. I hadn’t ever had vaginal penetration. Certainly done nothing in that form. And I really didn’t think my voyeurism qualified me to direct the process. I mean, it looks simple, it is simple, but it didn’t seem so simple at that moment. Jack chuckled. “Not really.” He tugged on my hand again, entwined our fingers. I didn’t register that I had fingers. “But, since you didn’t drop to your knees—” My chin came up quickly. My lashes fluttered. Probably looked like an owl. 69

Pack City He tried another tack. The whole begging thing just wasn’t coming off. “I didn’t want to jump your bones without warning, though.” “Why not?” Sounded good to me. You can see, at this point, that the scent of the guy was making my brain into mush. But he was smarter than the average crinos jerk, because he respected me. A chick in crinos could do some serious damage to a guy who’s a little too pushy. I remember back at that moment and think, geez, Jack had amazing selfcontrol. Or maybe his instincts for self-preservation rode his brain harder than what was between his legs? The truth was, in fact, I was actually getting irritated with the ‘sudden wait,’ now that we were there where we could do it. All that conversation, as little as it was, was in my way big time. But something I’ve learned about Jack. He likes to tease. Doesn’t like to be rushed. He doesn’t fuck like a rabbit, or a dog. Or an animal. Though, I promise you, I have every intention of urging him to it. But what can you do? The man savors every moment. Guess that comes from being bit, thinking you’re dying, and surviving hell to wake up and find yourself a shapeshifting demon. Make no mistake. Werewolves in crinos are demons. Hellbent and hellacious. But we were calm. Unnatural. The thought occurred to me as it happened—that we were unnatural. That I, too, was somehow unnatural. I should have been rolling him on his back and 70

Carys Weldon climbing on, insisting that he do me the honors. But I was—just—mesmerized. His fingers reached, still tangled with mine, but I felt a soft tickle on my thigh. And his voice; rough, like suede, smooth and silky at the same time, had me slipping juice down my legs again when he said, “Because, Fera, I want a little more than a fast hump.” “Why?” Leaning toward me, he tucked his nose near my ear. I felt his breath on me. More, I heard him inhale. Very tenderly, he put his other hand along my collarbone, trailed over the musculature there, and said, “Because I’m a man who recognizes what he’s found.” Stupidly, I asked, “What?” Jack smiled, his lips grazed the top of my shoulder. And yeah, I swooned a little. My knees went weak. But that could have been from the fact that I wasn’t used to standing upright. If you recall, I’d been running on all fours until just before I met him. I didn’t want to give Jack the power of knowing he made my knees weak. I remember thinking that I had to be worn-out from all the events of the night. Funny, how you fight what you know is true, what you don’t want to accept. That maybe, just maybe, you’ve met your match. “When—” His voice cracked a little, “When I got bit, I thought—” I knew what he thought. That he’d never find peace, or sanity again. That he’d be lonely forever. That hung between us for several seconds. Kismet. Kindred souls. Destiny. 71

Pack City A sense of belonging. A sadness for him, and the fact that he’d gone through that first change on his own, feeling totally victimized. I could imagine the pain he must’ve gone through. The fact that he conveyed it to me by the way his voice broke, and the way he reached for me, tucked my head under his chin and held me, while trying to speak of how he felt—it did something to me. “I thought that my life was over.” He choked over the words. I slipped my arms around him. And I have to say, I reveled in that. Never had I had arms before. Legs, paws. Well, I still had paws, but they had a different feel to them, a new sensitivity. I spread my claws and held on. I closed my eyes and listened to the beat of his heart under my ear, felt the warmth of his body against mine. Maybe I jumped the gun a bit, but when he said that to me, I took it to mean, that with me, he felt there was something to live for. Call it the princess syndrome. The world revolves around me. You can’t help what you are. But you know what? It was exactly what I needed to hear. I whispered, “Shh. It’s just begun.” I took it as a sign, that he needed me. I clung to it. After all, I’d left P.C. for him, with him. I believe Gaia knew I needed him. I’d been so lonely. Never even realized it. I’d watched the others at Pack City with my puppy dog eyes, pathetically pretending that their affections were nothing but entertainment to me. Curiosities. 72

Carys Weldon But really, I had felt such a soul-consuming sadness, like I’d been left out by the whole universe, always on the fringes of everyone else’s lives. Gaia knows I lived vicariously through Kayty. Pretended to be the one in Leer’s arms, under his all encompassing masculinity. I think Jack smiled then, when I sort of promised him a life together, though I couldn’t see his face. I just sort’ve felt it, ya know? He practically purred, “But then, when I was at my sorriest, I got word. I mean, wind, of you.” I frowned, pulling back so I could look at him. “Word?” Call me wary. Something made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “Wind. Slip of the tongue.” He grinned, “Forgive me.” Then, he flicked his tongue out, traced my lips quickly, and sucked it back in before I could object. That had me scrunching up my nose, totally distracted from what he’d been saying, and dropping my mouth open in surprise, too. Thinking, damn, I’ll bet that tongue’s as good as Leer’s at— I didn’t get any further than that in my thinking. Because, Jack slid his hand up my back, grabbed a hold of my hair, and pulled my head back, rather forcefully, but not painfully. Kind’ve snapped my attention directly to his face. He searched me. That’s all I can say. And there was a hardness in the way he did it. His body felt tight against me, like every muscle bunched up. There was anger there, I could feel it. I chalked it up to pent-up frustrations. We all have them. And confusion. I mean, it had been one damn crazy night. 73

Pack City “Fera.” “Yes.” “Tell me that you wanted to leave that place.” Oh. He was feeling guilty for sneaking me out? Well, I didn’t want my lover struggling with guilt when he needed to be attending to me. I told him, ever so quietly, “I wanted to leave that place.” I exonerated him with those words. He kissed me hard. Like a drowning man whose only redemption is a drink from the deepest well, he slid his tongue into my mouth and sucked fluid in a kiss I felt clear to my toes. I can’t even describe the passion that he put into that. The all-consuming feeling that swamped me, that had me clinging to him, totally weak in the knees. Jack held me up and bent me over backward at the same time, laid me over his knee. How he’d dropped to one knee, I don’t know. I don’t care. I truly swooned in his arms. And I knew that loving him, being made love to by him, would be an experience that I would never forget. When he came up for air, his lips only rose about a half-inch. I felt his breath on me, heaving, as if he’d been running a marathon, and I thanked Gaia that I wasn’t the only one running a race of emotions. He asked, “What is it?” Again, he searched my features. And he released my hair, spread his hands on the back of my head, then took hold again. It felt like a brief massage. Lulled my eyes from the inside out, I think. Under hooded gaze, I watched him. The man had a reverence about him, like he was somewhere between respectful of me, and considering what was to come. Again, the word savor 74

Carys Weldon comes to mind. His nose slid around me, not touching, just sniffing. Very much the way I’d seen Leer do to Kayty—many a time. Teasing, the way his breathing warmed my flesh. Humbly, he asked, “What is it, this thing between us that makes me a madman, an insane wolf that would risk life and limb for it?” Kinship. I murmured, smiling, “Attraction, maybe?” That he felt a kinship straight up, made my heart flutter, drew me deeper into the snuggling center of his embrace. He pressed me to his breastbone. Hung on tightly. Almost crushed me. But I held him, too, in that desperate-feeling, thank-Gaia grip, for the space of several minutes, eyes closed, feeling how right it was. I could have fallen asleep like that. I definitely felt like he’d sucked the energy from my whole being. I went limp, considered letting myself drift into that restful slumber I suddenly craved, sure that I was safe in his arms. Except between us was something that we couldn’t ignore. Something making itself known to me by pressing into my hip. His cock. And that had me realizing the slathering fluidity between my thighs. Downright messy. Let me explain. It isn’t always like that, but sometimes, when you’re really hot, you’re just wet. I was feeling sensitized all over. Probably had something to do with the proximity of his pheromones, mingling with mine. I don’t really 75

Pack City know. Shifting in his arms, suddenly uncomfortable, selfconscious, I forced his hands to move. I don’t know that it was inadvertent, when his fingers managed to slip down over my hip, squeeze my ass, then ride up my thigh to cup my crotch. To slide a finger in. Again, I’m sure, my eyes rolled up inside my head. I clawed a little. And he helped me stand up, which, apparently, is what he thought I wanted. He never let go of me, or I of him. He said, “You’re ready for me.” I thought, no shit. I wanted to scream, just fuck me. I know he didn’t want to do it standing up, but he didn’t want to lay me in the grass, either. Too much a man. I had a terrible urge to pull out of his arms altogether and turn my back to him again and bend over, on all fours. And simply demand he climb on. Maybe that’s what caused the embrace to last for extra minutes after I became aware of the throbbing between my legs and the insistent rod pressing against my belly. He was thinking about where to do it, how to make the first time something less—animal. And I was just envisioning it every way I could think of, wondering how to initiate it. Now, remember, at that time, he had no idea that I had been born a wolf. We were both in crinos. But it was weird, more control than, I think, most crinos werewolves have. Both of us, I mean. We were thinking. And it’s odd, but at that moment, when I realized I was overanalyzing what was going on between us, 76

Carys Weldon that I finally understood what Hood had been trying to tell me—what the difference was between us, him and I, and most of the dogs in the pack. Thinking smart in spite of our instincts, our driving urges. It’s how Jack and I escaped the pack, I know that for damn sure. I know it’s an odd time to think about genetics, but suddenly, I wondered…was the pure line I descended from really…an unnatural line? I surely felt more human than wolf, in my thinking, at least. My hand, before me, seemed to be losing hairs as I watched it. Not that I was watching it on purpose, just, my eyes had glazed over and were refocusing…on a very human hand.

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Chapter Eight Jack pulled away from me. “We need to go Shit.” somewhere.”

I shook my head, stepped back and lay down on the grass, pulling him down beside me. “We need to do this first. I can’t think. The pheromones are fogging my brain.” Really, I had a fear that I would change over, and he wouldn’t like what he saw. At least in crinos, the pheromones between us would help the consummation process, keep up the attraction. Fear of what was to come, and what I had just, possibly, figured out, had me turning to my instincts in blindness, blocking out my thought processes. He chuckled. “Is that what it is? And here I just thought it was love at first sight.” I knew he was joking, or thinking it was a joke. Just being clever. But I blinked up at him, drew his hand to my lips, and kissed it, then eased my tongue out and sucked his fingers, one by one, into my mouth— watching his face the whole time. Slowly, he stretched out, shifted to spread himself along the side of my body, where our skin was 78

Carys Weldon touching. When I was done with that hand, I let it go, trailed it down my chin, and set it on my breast— which had become very human in the interim. I never looked down. Jack indulged in cupping. Little tickles, tweaks. Firm hand holds. Brief caresses that promised something to come. Investigating my whole body, every dimple, every bump, lump, and crease. Eventually, he worked his hand down to my pubis. That made me arch. I wanted nothing more than to feel his hand tighter there. Or his finger, or more, inside me again. But he kissed me instead, keeping up the same steady pressure with his hand. Just enough to make me buck for fulfillment. Before long, he was half over me, sliding his tongue inside my mouth, and his cock dripped against the flesh of my upper thigh. I couldn’t stand it any more, I reached for his manhood, literally pulled it, and him, until he lay atop me, ready to go in. Ripping my lips free, I said, “For Gaia’s sake, fuck me. I’ve waited a lifetime for this.” Jack grabbed a hold of my chin, made me look him in the eye. And, as you know, that wasn’t something I’d done a lot of before. “Fera—” His face seemed so beautiful to me, but definitely, his eyes had me sucked into their depths. I love the expressions he gets. So serious in his eyes, but his lips always twitch, always ready to smirk. “What?” I spread my legs, pulled up my knees and put my hands on his hips. I figured, if he was gonna take his time about it, I might just have to help him. 79

Pack City Too sincere, too serious, he said, “You drive me wild.” That made me laugh. “Could’ve fooled me.” He shook his head, though, and said, “You don’t get it, do you?” “What?” Yeah, I was having trouble concentrating. “The waiting, the wanting—it’s the best part. That’s why I—” Why he didn’t take me back at Pack City. Why he’d run all over hell with me. He’d been enjoying the anticipation. My night’s hell. I’d had enough of anticipation for one lifetime, or so I thought. “Bet me.” I pulled him up inside of me. One firm grip and yank. And, to be honest, I had a moment of such intense pain that my vision blacked out. My whole body went rigid. He groaned, “Sorry. Oh, shit.” And despite the fact that I was somewhere in la-la land, my head rolled back, eyes up in my head, there was no stopping him. Long, deep strokes. I felt him all the way up to my throat, from the inside. Well, practically. It didn’t take too many strokes like that to bring me around. “It’s my first time like this,” he said, as he got near the edge. All I could do was ride the ride, go with the flow. Hang on for dear life. Claw into his biceps. He never noticed. And he didn’t seem to mind afterwards, either. I left marks on him. Jack didn’t have to work too hard to reach my spot. 80

Carys Weldon I don’t know if it’s the way he’s built, or how hot I get when I’m near him, but I didn’t have any problems finding that orgasm. He rode me right to it. I hit it before he did, and that just sent him over the top, I guess. But I was definitely pulling him up into me deeper, had my hands on his ass, helping. He came in shivering thrusts. His whole body was into it. I felt his toes, his feet stiffening. And he said into my ear, “God, you’re everything I ever dreamed of.” So, okay, that made me laugh. “Oh. Oh. Oh.” I guess my shaking from the laughter was causing extra convulsions around his cock, almost painful in their tickling strangles. “Stop,” he begged. And that made me laugh more. But that didn’t last long. It just pumped all the jism from his body. His head started to swell, a noticeably filling sensation, even after the fullness of him just being inside, and I panicked, started pushing, screaming for him to get out. I don’t know how he managed to do it, but a second later he was on his knees, a few feet from me, a little panicked himself. My legs were still spread-eagled around him. I propped myself up on my elbows to look at him as he asked, “Did I hurt you, somehow?” When he asked that, I didn’t answer. The phenomenon of a swelling cock is worth watching. I’m sure my eyes were as wide as they could get, and narrowed in on that. His gaze followed mine. His dripping cock had 81

Pack City gone ahead and swollen up, still pulsing with fluids, semen. He seemed a little concerned. Squeezed along the length of his shaft, kind’ve pushing the liquid out the end. Wincing, holding it tight, closing his eyes for a few minutes. There, with the light of that full moon on him, hanging on, he looked like a sculpture. A great, wolfish sculpture of a man. I knew I’d found my destiny. Good or bad, this was the soulmate for me, a werewolf who struggled with who he was, what he’d become, and how to express himself. At least, when he eventually told the sky, “Help me, I think I need to go again,” I knew that this was going to work out. I pounced him and showed him how to fuck crinos. It’s definitely a rabbit deal. I had his hands pinned out, wide, at the sides of his head. I straddled him, lowered myself into position over his shaft, which, by the way, was a serious stretch, one that had me questioning my own sense. I mean, only a minute before, I’d been pushing that mushroomed bastard out of me. Now, I was drawing it in, sliding onto it with slow purpose, telling my new lover, “In a minute, I’m gonna show you what it really is to fuck someone’s brains out.” Once on, it took me a minute or two to get my breath, shake the double vision from my eyes. Long enough that Jack teased, “Any time. Go ahead, fuck my brains out.” So, I started riding up and down, slow and easy at first. I told him, “I’m working up to it. Give me a 82

Carys Weldon second.” Inside, I was nothing but nerves, sensitized bits, every single tidbit of me geared toward coming another time. But I realized I couldn’t get that rabbit thing going without his help. I think the position was—just—unnatural to me at that point. I definitely wanted an orgasm again, quick. I growled, “Pump, dammit. Fucking—fuck me.” He laughed a little at my ferocity, but got his hips moving. And he demanded, “Let go of my hands.” I did. A second later, his fingers were on my hips, pushing me onto his shaft in body stabbing, impaling yanks. It was great. It was fast. It was furious. I remember his eyes flashing and him asking, “Ya like that?” And me smiling back, saying, “Yeah. Is that all ya got?”

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Chapter Nine the thing…It didn’t take long to exhaust Here’s ourselves, or to experience multiple orgasms. We

ended up falling asleep in each other’s arms. Which, by anyone’s standards, should be a good deal. Except I didn’t sleep long. I totally panicked when I saw dawn slipping over the horizon. Not because of the change in him, but because I was afraid I wouldn’t change. Or I would. I was confused. Scared. I crept away from Jack and sat a few feet from him, watching him. As the night receded and the morn broke, his features shifted. The fur disappeared completely. Not that he’d been covered by that much of it. Revealed by the dawn’s light was a very handsome man. Dark, curly hair, not too short, not too long. Black lashes that fanned his cheeks in sleep. Beautiful lips. Kissable lips. Pale skin. Not sickly white. But definitely white. I rested my chin on my knee and wondered, when will I turn back to lupus? And would that be painful? 84

Carys Weldon Even though I’d done well so far, I was sure that pain lurked in the next part of the shifting. Examining my hands, I noted that the hairs were almost invisible, and short, that my nails weren’t really claws. They were still long, but not vicious looking, as they’d been in crinos. That had me crawling back toward Jack, to look at the marks on his biceps. Healed wounds, red lines. Tipping my head, I placed my hand in the air above them, matched them up—felt a little sad that I’d marked such an otherwise perfect body. Except, I noticed where he’d been bitten. On the back of his neck, like something had jumped him from behind. I scooted back against a rock, wrapped my hands around my knees and wondered how he got loose. And who had done that to him? One of the losers. The bitches had said that. But which one? Not that it mattered. Losers were losers. But still, I was curious. Not that I had any real urge to play detective, but I, once again, crawled close to Jack’s head and examined the bite marks. Scars, now, that included a second bite a few inches below the first. Apparently, Jack had been running, and kept on running. I looked at his legs. Strong legs. They made me smile, and remember the way he’d tipped me backward, resting me on his thigh, before he’d kissed me. I ran my hand through my hair, scratched. Then realized that I had gone human, full over. My hair curved around my cheeks, which were smooth, rounded, fleshy-feeling. I scrambled to my feet, and 85

Pack City turned in circles, looking down at myself. Squiggled my toes in the grass, dug them into the dirt. I didn’t know what to think, couldn’t stop touching myself. First, I squeezed my breasts, rubbed the nubs. I enjoyed that immensely, couldn’t wait to get Jack to do it, too. I had to pause for a minute though, because something in my brain was telling me that he had, already, and that my recall wasn’t completely up to par. No matter. This was the first time, in the light of day, that I could examine myself in human form. I delighted in running my hands up my arms. It was so different from when I was in crinos. No hair. My muscles didn’t bulge now. I was firm, but not—huge. Not that I have a problem with that. I think bigger is better, in men and women. It didn’t take long for me to reach down between my legs, or to rub the soreness away with some light stroking. We’d had some hard sex, and, it being my first time, had made me a little raw. I went to the water and stepped in, slowly, quietly, so as not to wake Jack up. I washed. His dried semen was all over me, down my legs, over my belly. He had definitely ‘taken possession.’ I liked the aching feel between my legs. I liked knowing that Jack had wanted me repeatedly. The creek was deep, the water cool and soothing, very refreshing. And the early sun was warming. I remember turning my face up toward it, closing my eyes, and thanking Gaia for the gift of a full shift. I lifted my hands, full of water, toward the sky, and let it fall in trickling waterfalls down my arms. 86

Carys Weldon “So, this is what I have to wake up to now.” Jack’s words had me blinking, twirling, and covering my breasts as I spun around to look at him. I sputtered. “How—how long have you been awake?” “Move your hands.” I did, but I ducked into the water first. Jack shook his head, planted a grin on his lips, and told me, “Stand up, let me see you.” But I bit my lower lip. I hadn’t yet gotten completely comfortable with my new self, and I didn’t know how long it would last. I sure didn’t know how it stacked up in a human’s world, or a man’s eyes. The sudden urge to explain that to him had me responding, “How much do you know about— garou?” He frowned. “Garou?” “You know, werewolves.” “Oh.” He shrugged, looked away, bit the inside of his cheek. “Not as much as I need to know, that’s for damn sure.” “There are some—simple things—that you need to know.” He glanced back at me. “Like what? That the full moon turns them into monsters? Believe me, I got that part figured out.” I flinched a little. What we’d shared, most of our night—we’d shared…in crinos. I felt a little confused on that. I mean, I remember that our embraces started while we were both in that form, but straddling him, I’d felt very—awkward. Very human formed. I asked, “Did you hate it?” He considered that for several minutes, before he 87

Pack City finally said, “No. Not exactly.” “But you like being human better?” “Don’t you?” he snapped at me. But there was no growl, or flash in his eyes. Honestly, I said, “I—I don’t know.” At this point, I realized that the unnaturals didn’t shift all the way to lupus. At least, this one hadn’t. Though his crinos had the best features of the wolf incorporated with the best of the human. “How can you not know?” He didn’t get it. “What do you think, Jack? That we’re all bitten, like you were?” Flinching, he got up off the ground, kept himself busy for a minute—brushing grass and dirt from his body. I watched him, thinking, Oh. My. Gaia. He is beautiful in every form. Well, the two forms I’d seen him in, and what was between them. Even at that moment, when his male genitalia hung limply, it appeared worthy of appreciation. His human muscles, though much smaller than his crinos form, showed definition, dents worth investigating. He asked, “By that, I take it that the entire pack wasn’t.” He really was too smart for his own good. Too clever. Getting information out of me. “No.” I didn’t want to tell him the rest, but I said, “Some were. But more of the garou at Pack City are breeders, born werewolf.” “Is that so?” He glanced over at me. “In what? Crinos?” I winced. “Yeah, a few.” I knew one thing; birthing a crinos infant was as painful as it gets. I don’t know 88

Carys Weldon why, but it had something to do with claws, oversizing of the baby, that sort of thing. “More in human or lupus.” “How many are born like you?” His tone sharpened, and his gaze narrowed, and I felt like it was almost a criticism. Swallowing hard, I tried to think. How many? I wanted to please him. Call that the canus in me. “Not very many. Very few, in fact.” I tried to make it sound good to him. “It’s considered very— prestigious—to be born in lupus.” “Why is that?” “Hood says—” His chin came up a little, and made me feel a little defiant, like I needed to show a certain amount of pride. After all, if my brother said it, it must be true. He was well respected in the pack, and no one ever contradicted him when he talked about breeding. “…that the lupus-born are the pure line, the original ones, that they are becoming fewer and fewer—which makes them precious.” That made Jack smile, but he didn’t ask who Hood was, if he was important to me, and he didn’t let me slack my end of the conversation. He pinpointed my discomfiture immediately. “So, what are you trying to tell me, Fera? That you’re a wolf?” Certainly, he’d seen the pack in various stages as they’d chased and circled back. Some wolves, some crinos werewolves, some even in human form. Very few like that, but enough for him to get the picture. And, of course, he was looking at me, in totally human shift. This was my first lover. I really didn’t want to 89

Pack City disappoint him. I didn’t want him to reject me, now that the light of day had come. Now that his human senses had all returned. I had no idea how much of his wolf instincts were at his beck and call. Could he still smell, see, and hear like a wolf? So, I didn’t answer him. I just watched him, fear on my face. Sadness in my heart. A true sickness climbing through my belly, promising me that he would walk away and leave me in that strange land, naked, human, and unsure of which way to turn. I had such a feeling of bereftness that I couldn’t think. But he came toward me, walked right into the water, reached out, took me by the shoulders and forced me to look him in the eye. He demanded, “Tell me.” His fingers bit into my flesh, and I wanted to cry. I sniffed. Letting my gaze fall to his throat, I nodded. “Yes.” “Yes, what?” I closed my eyes, and said, “Born a wolf.” It killed me to say it. I had never wanted to deny my birthright before. But at that moment, I wanted nothing more than to have that untrue, to be able to say that I was human, had been bitten like he was. Indecisively, we stood there, in the water, his gaze boring down on me. I think, maybe, he warred with all the things he’d been taught, about breeding, races, genetics. Perhaps his whole belief system was challenged at that moment. I know mine had been challenged in the short time we’d been together. I was now rethinking purism, and what, exactly, was unnatural, and what was not. 90

Carys Weldon Very rough, he repeated, “Born a wolf, and not very proud of it.” That made me wince. It wasn’t true. I’d been very proud of the fact until I met him. He had me all confused. His next oath, I didn’t quite understand. “Fuck. What have I done?” I don’t think it was a conscious thought, on his part or mine, to be in each other’s arms. But the next thing I knew, he had his arms around me, his chin on the top of my head, and asked, “What in God’s name have we done?” We both knew. We’d bred. We’d joined together two races. We’d done something unnatural. Something we couldn’t have helped. Something we had no way of taking back. But Gaia help me, I didn’t want to take it back. Many minutes passed. Gaia knows how many. And finally, he asked, “Do you have any idea when will you shift back?”

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Chapter Ten hen would I shift back? The one question I had no answer to. “I don’t know. This is my first time.” He stiffened. It was an infinitesimal thing, at first, and his grip tightened to the point of pain right after that. I think he was willing me not to shift back. He said, “My first shift back was absolute hell.” And that, of course, made me want to cry, made me afraid of what would happen. I buried my face against him, with little hope of reining in my emotions. It had been a very stress-filled night. I needed to work through them. I cried my eyes out. Maybe it made him feel responsible. I don’t know. But, before long, he was whispering things, like, “It’s okay.” Over and over again, he told me, “Don’t cry. It’ll be okay, Fera. We’ll work something out.” We’ll work something out. Should have comforted me. But it actually reminded me of something I’d overheard at Pack City before a hunt—for an unnatural. The plan was improvised with that one provision. We’ll work something out. That something

W

92

Carys Weldon had been a complete and utter destruction of the offending party, the troublemaker, the nuisance. I had to wonder, did Jack suddenly think I was a problem that needed to be worked out? Now, I have to say, paranoia is a bitch’s prerogative. Ya always gotta keep one eye on your back, else you won’t live long. Sniffing, I pulled out of Jack’s arms, and asked, “How do you—usually—work things out. I mean, handle problems?” He looked confused. “What do you mean?” “In a pack, when we have a problem…well, we don’t usually have a problem for long.” It took him only a second. I’m telling you, he’s clever. “You’re not a problem. Nah. Don’t think that.” He pulled me back into his arms. But this time, it felt different. Like, maybe, he was thinking of disposing, if you know what I mean. Maybe I was just afraid. I can’t blame him if it crossed his mind. Certainly, I thought about killing him. I even fleshed out a scenario where I went back to Pack City, cried kidnapping, rape, and then murder. No one would blame me then. It would be much easier than life with him would ever be. Yeah, I know. Horrible, horrible bitch. The world revolves around me. Making things good for me. Well, you know what? It really is a dog eat dog world out there. And anyone tells you any different is talking through their ass. You have to consider all the possibilities, keep your eyes open for betrayals, back biting, and, Gaia help us, unnatural things becoming acceptable. Or worse, us becoming unnatural. 93

Pack City I knew I was already screwed. If Hood ever caught up with me, and figured out that I didn’t slit my own throat before being had by a ‘mongrel’—Hood’s words, not mine—he’d likely kill me himself. I knew he had somebody picked out for me. Oh, he hadn’t said so much, but his protectiveness, his growls at the other males when he found them talking to me, it didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure it out. My brother’s a doctor. Did I mention that? Not a brain surgeon, but we have some garou that do that. Lots of garou doctors. In fact, that is probably the most common occupation amongst werewolves who live in human form most of the time. Hood wasn’t a regular doctor. He worked for a special company. Lobos International. Parent company to Wolf Enterprises. Yeah, we’ve got our fingers in some big pots. There’s a larger picture opening up for garou. We coined the phrase New World Order before anyone else did. Distributor for those T-shirts that say NWO? That’s a garou. Anyhow, I struggled. When to mention my brother to Jack? Then didn’t seem like the right time. I didn’t think Jack could handle the whole NWO thing. It wasn’t like that mattered much to him. He was very much living for the here and now. At least, that’s what I assumed. I mean, he’s an unnatural— somebody who bucked death, survived, and knows that every day he could be hunted down. He didn’t seem to be too worried about that, despite the fact that we had been hunted most of the night. So, if that wasn’t a problem for him, and I 94

Carys Weldon wasn’t the problem, and Jack wasn’t a problem, then we definitely had to face the reality that Hood was. He had nothing better to do than track me down. And kill Jack. And maybe me, too. Or so I thought. Remember? The world revolves around me. If Hood had nothing better than to take hiatus from work (which he did often, by the way—I don’t really know what kind of doctor he is, but he flies all over the world—on call. It’s very cool.) then Hood probably didn’t have anything better to do than—you can see how my mind tried to connect dots, some that weren’t even there. I was afraid of my big brother. More afraid of him than any other thing in the world, except, Jack leaving me: weighing me, finding me wanting, walking away from me. Yes, I have abandonment issues. You don’t see me talking about my parents, do you? All I ever had was my brother and the Pack. And now, by choosing to be with Jack, I had given up all that. And it felt like Jack was having second thoughts. My paranoia, I know, but I was shaking through and through, scared of the conversation we were having, and horrified by my internal thoughts. Killing Jack? Just to keep Hood and the Pack happy? Don’t get me wrong, I’m a hunter. Do real well at it, but the sure knowledge that putting the unnatural down, like a bad dog, say, with a terrible disease—no one could fault me for that. Again, I put a few inches of distance between us, backed up a step. He kept his hands on me. I looked down at the water. We were up to our chests. My 95

Pack City breasts were just barely covered, but you could see them, distorted. I touched the nipples again, wondering where my others had gone. I felt down the length of my body. Sure enough, there were slight nubs—invisible little scars, like they’d been sucked into my body. It was an abrupt change of thinking, but I needed to stop the second-guessing, had to redirect myself. I said, “I wish I knew how long this was going to last.” My shift. Our little romance. And if I’d conceived during our lovemaking. And if that had been in crinos. Why did that question keep coming back? The wolf in me knew that a crinos delivery would be horrible, worse than a human one. The best way to go was in lupus, but that couldn’t happen if he never shifted that far. And I hadn’t seen it, couldn’t remember it, felt a definite fogginess over some things. I kept thinking…part of the night is missing. Had I endured pain in the final shift, and put that little episode out of mind? I asked, “Did you—see me shift to this form?” Jack smiled, “Yeah.” He tucked some hair behind my ear. The water from his hand dribbled down my cheek. “It was amazing.” “I don’t remember it.” He kissed me, reiterating, “It was amazing.” “I wish I could remember.” His hands disappeared under the water, took hold of my waist, dragged me to him. His cock was hard again, only this time, its proportions weren’t 96

Carys Weldon humongous. He told me, “I don’t normally like to do it standing up.” “Really?” I would have thought humans did it standing up all the time. Jack’s lips pressed against the skin just under my earlobe. He whispered, “Really.” I felt myself melting at each successive little peck he placed, in a trail that ran down my neck, back up, along the edge of my jaw, back to my ear, and downward. Down to the upper curve of my breast. By the time he got there, I had my hands on the back of his head, and urged him toward the shore. He wouldn’t budge, though. Not more than a few inches. Just enough to get my breasts out of the water, so that he could bend a little and suckle them. All the while, he looked up at me. You really can’t help who you are. My eyes flashed. The feral beast in me came to the fore. I didn’t shift, exactly, but I did change. I felt a conscious urge to keep the shift from happening. Beat it down, so to speak. Oh, my Gaia. I had never had a creature, nor any man or wolf of any kind suckling from my breasts. I could have gone on with that all day long, I think. Jack certainly spent a fair amount of time doing it. I wonder how he knew what that would do to me? Here’s something that bothers me a bit about Jack. It’s like he knows how to maneuver me. I didn’t even remember lifting my legs, but the next thing I remember is my legs wrapped around his waist, and him fucking me in the water, sucking my nipples the whole time, gripping my breasts, turning them 97

Pack City upward. Of course, I couldn’t reach orgasm like that. I don’t know why. But, when I realized how close he was, I started insisting, “Stop. Stop.” I even grabbed him by the hair and lifted his face, so I could kiss him—stick my tongue down his throat. He stumbled backward, and somehow we landed on the shore with him flat on his back. That didn’t last long, though. He rolled me. Talk about intensive penetration. The thrusts of his tongue mirrored what he was doing with his cock. His fingers cradled my face, and I felt him grunting into me. I think he was putting the force to me, because I’d liked it before. Funny, but in human form, roughness seems…overdone. Too much. I think he realized it, too, because he gentled his thrusts and his kisses, withdrew his tongue, and returned again to the little pecks, the trailing puckers that made my skin shiver. He’d withdrawn from me, and teased us both with the head of his cock knocking gently at the door of my womanhood. My swelling lips. I gloried in the lovemaking between that man and me, as a woman. I didn’t care that we were in the mud by a dirty stream. At least, it was dirty after we kicked up the bottom. What I cared about was the tenderness he showed me. The sensitivity to me. And, oh my Gaia, when his lips worked down past my breasts and nipples again to my navel, I writhed beneath him. First, I felt the abandonment of his cock 98

Carys Weldon from my cunt. And that, I had a real problem with. Second, the urge to feel his kissing lips lower—that simply drove me. I think I pushed his head down further. But he obliged me. Buried his nose. Reached in with his tongue. Had me tip my pelvis so he could get in better. Deeper. He knew when he hit the exact spot, grinding his upper teeth against my pelvis—not biting, but trying to get an angle where his tongue could reach that place—because I went wild. I’m sure I howled with pleasure. I know I bucked with the spasms of orgasm. And I know that he couldn’t help eating that up. After all, what power there is in making another person oblivious to the real world, if only for a few seconds, or a couple of minutes. Before I could recover, he was upon me, in me, fucking out every drop of his juice, coming inside, deep, deep inside. He collapsed atop me. And that was fine. Not like I had any energy to care with. So, Gaia knows how long we laid like that near that creek. But, I heard something. Could’ve been a rustle in the trees. Could’ve been nothing. Whatever it was, it had me wide awake, looking up and around, afraid to move, afraid to wake Jack. I knew if Hood had caught up with us, Jack would end up dead in that position. But how to wake him up without him making a noise? I didn’t want to be attacked. And I surely felt eyes on me. On us. 99

Pack City Whispering, “Ja—Jack,” I prodded him in the waist. He groaned a little but didn’t really move. Very quietly, I said, “Company. We have company.” That got his attention. I felt, more than saw, his eyes open. Probably the fluttering of his eyelashes against my cheek. His nose had been buried in my neck. His body tightened, all except the flaccid manhood that still clung to the insides of my vaginal walls, wallowing in the fluids we’d produced. His throat worked a couple of times before he managed to ask, “Who? Can you see?”

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Chapter Eleven

I

felt immensely vulnerable. Naked. Human. That moment made me appreciate my wolf form more than any other in my life. I had never known fear before. I’d had frissons of worry, a few moments of discomfiture, but never had I felt so unprotected. Oh, I knew that Jack’s body would shield me, if nothing else, for a few minutes. Long enough for my emotions to send me into my natural form. But I envisioned everything terrible. Humans finding us. Wild animals attacking. Hood stepping up, to tower over us. Even Leer and Kayty’s disdainful stares, and the bitches’ snickering insults. I felt many eyes. I couldn’t see them. I couldn’t smell them. But my instincts, my sixth sense, it was still intact. I wondered if they were all downwind. Surely I should be able to get a whiff? But my nostrils were full of Jack’s scent. And while he was on top of me, and in me, I don’t think I could have noted anything but him. Freaking pheromones—is all I can guess. Perfect chemistry or something. Definitely hard on my thinking capacity. He eased off, rolled onto his back beside me, and 101

Pack City promised, “I’ll protect you, don’t worry.” “Sh. They’ll hear you.” “The full moon’s still up—somewhere else. I’m sure of it. I could probably go crinos if I got angry.” He winked at me. I wanted to tell them, whoever was out there, that I was pretty sure he couldn’t do that, even if he tried. Instead, I said, “It’s not funny, Jack. Stop screwing around.” He made a face, then smiled, tweaked my nipple and said, “It’s been fun. Never think it wasn’t.” That confused me. And then he rolled up into a sitting position and called out, “Fucking time.” The rustling in the bushes got louder. “Show yourself, ya freaking little voyeurs.” “Who are you talking to?” I could not even guess— but it sure sounded like he knew who had found us. I was still afraid to move. As if he didn’t really care, Jack got up and went into the water, rinsed off. His eyes were on me the whole time. “Show yourself off, princess. Apparently, they want to see what you’ve got, first.” “How do you—?” I sat up, looked around. “Who’s out there?” That’s when I smelled them. You could have knocked me over with a feather when the losers started coming out of the trees, sitting on their haunches a distance away from us, ogling us both. I jumped up, ran into the water, stood behind Jack, screaming, “Holy shit! How did you find us?” Jack said, “Shh. You want the whole pack to hear?” 102

Carys Weldon My lips clamped shut immediately. I closed my eyes, willed myself to shift to lupus. In that form, I felt a certain sense of control. I needed to shed my newfound vulnerability before it got me gang raped…by a bunch of damn mangy wolves. They circled closer. I cowered more—behind Jack, under the water. I asked, “You think the others are near, too?” My mind hadn’t even begun to address the fact that Jack seemed to know who was out there. “Probably on their way. I think that was the overall plan, anyway.” I assumed he’d just worded it funny. Like, it was obvious that they were all chasing us, and if the losers had caught up, then surely the others would, too. That did seem to stand to reason. “I guess you’re right. We probably wasted too much time here.” Jack didn’t say anything to that, but I felt tension rolling off him. I figured it was our company. That’s when I spotted Mr. Vocal, the loser that had stopped me from leaving Pack City’s perimeter the night before. I specifically recall thinking that if he’d let me out then, none of that chase would have happened, or so I told myself. The impending embarrassment would not be hanging over us. That stupid wolf seemed happy. A little too happy. His tongue lolled, and slobber dripped, but he sat on his haunches from a fair distance. Jack said, “Go away. You’ve done your job. Twice now. I’d say that it won’t go unappreciated.” Mr. Vocal shook his head. “Don’t think so.” 103

Pack City I whispered, “In human, we can’t outrun them. And we can’t fight that many. Not like this.” “I’m a lover, not a fighter, or hadn’t you noticed?” Jack had cleaned himself, spent a few minutes posturing protectively in front of me, made that smug, mind-numbing comment, and then, like a fool, stomped out of the water. I wasn’t sure if I should go or stay. The water seemed colder without him warming it, but it made me feel like my core was protected. I stayed put. “Get!” Jack waved an arm, like he was talking to bad dogs, not speaking, thinking creatures. They thought it was funny, that was obvious. And, honestly, it was, a little. But I had to wonder where he got his nerve from, all naked like that, manly, but no match for wolves, let alone werewolves. “Honor is a crooked thing, don’t you think?” Mr. Vocal stretched out onto his belly, as if he planned to stay and watch us for a long time. “What’s he talking about?” I asked Jack. I don’t know why I thought he’d know. “Some say there is no honor among the degenerates of society.” Jack didn’t seem to be worried, much, about the intrusion. That had me tipping my head, watching closely, wondering, what the hell? Was he trying to hypnotize Mr. Vocal—in a way I couldn’t see? Or did he really not seem concerned about the audience we had? The wolf clucked his tongue. “Come now.” And that very short phrase set all the dogs into hoarse laughter. Apparently pleased with himself, Mr. Vocal added, “Show us your manly honor.” 104

Carys Weldon I’m sure we all looked at Jack’s cock. There was enough honor in that not-so-little tool to keep me happy for a lifetime. Jack shook his head. He also put his hands on his hips. Despite the fact that he had looked at his shaft, too, he said, “I don’t think I want to examine myself in front of—you.” “You were more than willing to make the deal when your life was at stake.” Jack’s spine hardened. I remember thinking, he’s very tall, a lot taller than me. Has a great back. Yeah. I was having a little trouble getting my mind off sex. And the idea that the loser had philosophical thoughts, or riddles—that meant anything to me, just made my mind spin. I asked, “What’s he talking about?” “I’m talking about a deal we made with the unnatural.” “What do you mean, a deal?” “Just that. His life in exchange for certain…honors.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You—you made a deal with these losers?” Jack looked over his shoulder at me, then. The expression on his face is one I’ll never forget. Inscrutable. Hard. He said quietly, “Come out of the water, princess.” I shook my head. He held out a hand. I shook my head again. “No thanks.” I was beginning to feel betrayed. Like something bad was going to happen, that Jack had already made his 105

Pack City choice in the matter. That I was somehow part of a payment on a bad deal somewhere. Very surreal. I had to ask again, “What’s he talking about?” As if it were of no consequence, Jack said, “They let me live, once.” A little surprised to realize he’d made a deal, I croaked, “You mean, you begged?” I would have pegged him for one of those guys that would have taken death like a man. Like a warrior. Jack’s lips slid into a smirk. “Claws holding you down, fangs ready to dip in for a third time, makes you lose your dignity. I can speak from experience. Makes you rethink your priorities.” My hero was crumbling before my eyes. He’d made a deal with the losers? I couldn’t quite process that. “What—what was the deal?” “You can’t guess?” He was looking me in the eye. I felt like he was trying to tell me something, maybe willing me not to believe what I was hearing, what was coming out of his mouth. He shook his head, “All I had to do was fuck the princess.” That’s why he’d been calling me that. To suit them…? Definitely betrayal. I let my gaze drop to the water. My reflection blurred. Then rippled as a tear hit the surface. I questioned all that I’d thought I’d found. I couldn’t swallow, the bile was rising in terrible waves, giving me the need to clutch my stomach and fight the nausea as it attacked me from within. I managed to get out, “Just—fuck me?” I saw my face, 106

Carys Weldon close to the water, and I thought, this is what I’ve been reduced to. A crying, fucking girl. Defenseless. I wondered, what does it take to change back? I closed my eyes, willed myself to shift. But a rebellious part of me said, he fucked you over and over again. He enjoyed it. It wasn’t a hardship. Mr. Vocal laughed. “Not just to fuck you, but to do it well.” I groaned. He’d done it well, all right. Well enough to have me remembering, easily, how it felt to have him inside me. Well enough to nearly rub me raw in places. And well enough that I still wanted more, despite the other. Well enough to make me fall in love with him. I gulped. That was the worst gall. Our intruder said, “I was a little disappointed that he didn’t do it doggy style.” “How—how do you know—how we did it?” My every tremor felt jerky. Every word seemed wrenched from my gut, hard to form. The wolves laughed. I surmised that I had been more than oblivious for part of the evening. How could they have watched and I not known? The missing moments that I’d instinctively felt. Thoughts about gang rapes came to mind. How girls had blanked things out. I wondered, was that why I was so sore? Had Jack somehow…inconceivably…let them at me? Was it some price? What he’d exchanged for his life? A pre-planned night and rendezvous, here, at this far away creek spot? 107

Pack City I can tell you, there was never a more devastated being than me, at that moment. Crushed. Heart shattered. “Don’t listen to him.” Jack finally said something, but it wasn’t convincing enough to me, to make me think that I had it wrong. Seemed like he said it from down a tunnel, just to placate me. Mr. Vocal said, “He never does it doggy style. Not to save his life, even. Right?” The muscles in Jack’s back rippled with restraint. Fury. But I knew, the bitten couldn’t bring their crinos on by sheer will. He said, “I don’t do it with dogs.” I flinched. Technically, I was not a dog, but I knew what he meant. He added, “Male dogs. Losers.” “Careful,” Mr. Vocal said. “I’m pretty sure we could rip your throat out at this juncture.” Hoarse laughter followed, before he added, “Just like old times, eh, Jack?” Jack wasn’t backing down, though. He said, “You’ve had your fun. You got what you wanted. Now go. You’ve done your damage. I took her. Hood’s on our trail. That’s enough.” Turning his back on them, he faced me. There was remorse there, in his eyes, but it didn’t make me feel any better. I didn’t process his use of my brother’s name, like he knew him well. I knew the losers had wanted to put me down, break my spirit. I focused on that. But Jack’s words made me feel safe enough to know I hadn’t been raped by the lot of them. I didn’t understand why they hadn’t just raped me, 108

Carys Weldon though, instead of employing an unnatural. Either way, I was tainted for a pure wolf. I asked, “So, what? They paid you?” “Not exactly. Well, yeah. They let me live.” To my utter surprise, he went behind a bush, picked up a bundle and started putting clothes on. I demanded, “What in hell are you doing?” “Look. I don’t really feel comfortable. This ain’t a nudist colony and I’m sure you don’t want me around for what’s going to come next.” “What do you mean, what’s going to come next?” My eyes popped. Rape came to mind again. I backed up another step in the water. The losers laughed some more. They didn’t have to read minds to get wind of my fear. Like I said, I was totally at mercy in that girl skin. Jack buttoned the front of his jeans. I’d have given an arm and a leg, easily, for a pair of jeans like that, ones that were hard to undo very fast, that fit like a skin. Even then, I remember thinking that he was sexy. He said, “Don’t worry. They won’t rape you.” He gave them all an intent look. “They’re just going to keep an eye on you until your brother, and Leer, pick up your trail again. They should be here pretty soon.” Words. Meaningless words. Words for whose benefit? They numbed me. And there it was again. Absolute, beyond belief, deafening betrayal. He was abandoning me? Blood rushed through my ears. Numbness pooled in my legs, weighting me like cement blocks. I asked, “You mean, you’re leaving me…for Hood and Leer to 109

Pack City find?” That might be all it took to turn over the power in Pack City again. Hood’s rage would surely provoke a fight between him and Leer. Leer had turned me down, er, turned his nose up. And it was Leer’s cell that hadn’t held. Leer’s mate as guard when I was stolen from Pack City. Never mind that I’d gone willingly. Or that Hood had come before that. He’d left her, Kayty, still on watch in crinos form. She should have been able to head off the intruder, and surely to set up a cry that would bring everyone in, but she’d left her post. Oh, my mind was working fast, trying to see the whole damn picture. Only, my heart kept trying to back up, to tug at strings that Jack had placed around it. Little sweet things that couldn’t have been faked, or acted out for the sake of an audience’s pleasure. He’d truly enjoyed making love with me. And as much as we’d hard fucked, we’d had that sensual connection. His eyes had romanced me. His lips had teased me. Oh, I was sick. Confused. But I asked, “So, you’re leaving me…with all these losers, like this, knowing that Hood is on his way.” More a statement than a question. Jack pulled a shirt over his head, a black T-shirt, and tucked it in. Leaning on a rock, he slipped socks onto his feet, and then pulled black boots on. In the middle of that, he said, “Don’t worry, the pack won’t shun you. Hood will see to that.” “How do you know what Hood will do?” My voice slid up the octave scale quickly, “He’ll probably slash my belly open before I can get out of the water, as 110

Carys Weldon soon as he smells the air. Just to make sure I don’t birth your offspring.” The scent of us was everywhere, for those with good olfactory nerves. “Come out of the water. Apply yourself to shifting.” He sounded confident, unhurried, absolutely sure I could do it. “Why last night? Why you?” I was putting two and two together. Had Hood hired this—man—instead of the losers? Did I have the story completely wrong? I’d originally assumed that the losers had bitten him first. Had they gotten in the middle of another deal? How could I have been so wrong about destiny and finding my soul mate? “Last night was perfect. You were perfect.” Jack was standing now, looking straight at me. Looking too damn sexy. Looking unapproachable. And I may be stupid, but I really believed he was sincere at that moment. Of course, the wolves started to laugh again. Gaiadamned hyenas. I felt like the butt of a joke. And one more time, I felt a doubling pain in my midsection. Wincing, leaning forward, I said, “I can’t believe this is happening. That you lied to me.” He rubbed his face, squeezed his nose between his thumb and forefinger, covering his mouth. I had to stagger from the water, drop to one knee, then to all four. Puke. He said, “You’ll be all right. Don’t fight the shift.” 111

Pack City Mr. Vocal said, “You sure you don’t do it doggy style, Jack? She’s in position.” “Shut up.” Jack sounded angry, and maybe a little concerned, but he didn’t close the distance between us. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t look up. I couldn’t do anything but hang on. I was shifting back. Holy shit, I was shifting back. My eyes rolled up into my head, I heard popping, grinding, stretching— I phased through crinos with no control—right into lupus. But fuck that shit, it hurt like hell, and when I was done, I felt weak, almost crippled. Definitely like I was dying. I took a few steps and fell at Jack’s feet. Crawled to his feet, to be more correct. Not that I’d been going to him. At least, I don’t think I was. Yeah. Maybe I was. Before I passed out, I heard Mr. Vocal say, “Shit! Here they come! Get the hell out of here before—”

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Chapter Twelve

I

woke up in a strange place. A place I’d never been before. An apartment in the city. I didn’t recognize anything, felt totally disoriented. It took me several minutes to struggle up to a sitting position. Jack sat across from me, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped. My gaze strayed to the window, dark was setting in again. That answered my first question, about how long I’d been out. Obviously, all day. He smiled. Mr. Crooked Lips. And he said, “You’re one pretty wolf, Fera.” I flashed my eyes at him and pulled back a lip. I’d show him pretty. “So, this is what you’re really like when you wake up. I should’ve guessed.” He shrugged, sat back, cradled a glass filled with an amber liquid. “I mean, you gotta have some of the same blood that your brother does in there.” “What do you know about my brother?” Yep. You could say I was irritable, distrusting, manifesting all the signs of a street dog—ready to bite. “I know that he’s working two sides of the fence. Got plans of his own.” He took a sip. Must not have 113

Pack City gone down smooth, because his face jerked a little in reaction. “How did you get me out of there?” “Let’s say, now that I know what I’m up against, I’m not all that outmatched.” I didn’t trust him. It didn’t make sense that he’d gotten past that many wolves. And I didn’t understand what he meant about Hood working two sides of the fence. I don’t care that he had me out of there, safe and sound, and that I didn’t seem to have any new marks or pains. He’d hurt me. And he’d revealed something awful to me. A bitch is used to the other bitches plotting against her. She knows that that’s part of life in Pack City. But to find out that the males used you as a pawn, that hurts. And to think my brother was the asshole that may have set me up, that was, well, unthinkable. And it’s even worse when you may have made a fool of yourself on top of all the rest. I tried, desperately, to remember if I’d stupidly declared undying love, or anything else remotely close to it. Yes. Pride, saving face, that was pretty much all I had left, and not too much of that, mind you. I called him a “Prick.” And I got up, stretched my aching body, went nosing around. No female scents. No scents but his. At the entry to the kitchen, I announced, “I’m thirsty.” “So, shift and get yourself something.” He pretended to be interested in a magazine at his elbow. I knew he was testing me. I didn’t want to play his game, or give him any more information about what I 114

Carys Weldon could or couldn’t do. And at that moment, I was pretty sure I couldn’t have shifted for my life. But I was wrong. His patience out-waited my thirst—because you know I wasn’t asking that man twice. With a loud, “Fuck you, I promise you’ll be sorry for this,” I concentrated. And lo, and behold, my body did its thing. There was no ugly sound. Some moans from me, maybe, but nothing like popping. I went straight to the sink. Oh, I’d seen people use them before. Kayty had given me some trips to town, shown me how things worked. Yes. Walked me like a dog. That’s why I picked out the damn collar. I don’t look enough like a German shepherd or a husky to get away without a collar. Pure wolf, remember? I turned the sink on, leaned over, and put my face under the running water—drank my fill. I know he watched me. Wanted me. Because his next words were, “That loser was wrong. I’d do it doggy style with you, if it pleases you.” I didn’t like the twitter that slithered through to my groin immediately. Zinged right through my back, straight from his gaze, spiraled down to my crotch, and homesteaded. I took my time turning off the water, wiping my face with the back of my hand. There was a window over his sink. I looked out, and asked, “What was he talking about?” “Come here. We need to talk.” I liked the distance, but he held his tongue until I padded back into the living area. I flopped down on 115

Pack City his sofa, pulled the closest thing over me, a pillow. Not that I was self-conscious, just felt like protecting myself. Didn’t want him to smell my reaction to him. He swallowed the rest of his drink and set the glass aside. Leaning forward, he said, “I have to explain some things to you that you’re not going to like.” “So, don’t bother.” I looked toward the door. I could shift out, and leave. Maybe not go back to P.C. Maybe find my own way. There’s a ton of lone wolves out there. Now that I’d shifted to human, and knew how to do it, I could handle it. Maybe. He touched me. Just a finger to my knee, to get my attention. “Fera—” So wonderful, to hear my name from his lips. Coremelting. Honest. That thought made me jerk away from him. “What?” I hopped up off the couch. “I’m becoming an expert on werewolf behavior. Masters of avoidance.” “Right.” I paced. “Want to know who bit me?” “Does it matter?” “You might find it interesting.” I stopped the pacing. Putting my hands on my hips, I said, “Okay. Who? I thought it was a loser.” “Nah. That would have been easy to avoid.” “But you said—” “That they had me down, pinned, ready to bite me again? Yeah. It’s all true, but that was when they were hunting me down, to exterminate me.” “Funny. You seemed on pretty good terms.” 116

Carys Weldon “Let’s just say, I taught them a little respect.” “So, who—?” Apparently, he had a sudden thought. “You know what? Let’s play a game.” “I don’t play games.” “If you’re surprised by my answer—on who bit me—we do it.” “Do what?” “It. Doggy style, even.” “It doesn’t really matter to me. The Pack will deal with the culprit. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m outta there.” “Love me, Fera. Let me love you.” Okay. That got me. Had me flinching, backing up, instantly even more wary. “Don’t start that bullshit on me, Jack. I know your game now. I was a play, part of a deal. That’s over.” He shook his head. “Nothing’s over. Not until I say it is.” “You think that Hood won’t follow us? He’s probably around the corner as we speak.” Jack wrinkled his nose, shrugged, “I think the losers have muddied the trail a little more than that.” “So, what? They’re playing rat pack for you?” He shrugged again. “They’re fucking losers, and you are, too, for doing business with them. Fucking me for a price.” That’s what really made me mad. Jack had me by the elbow, nose to nose, a millisecond later. Standing there, toe to toe, I could barely breathe. His leashed tension was palpable. “For my life. You don’t think you’d roll over for that? It was 117

Pack City a fair trade on their initial request.” He didn’t have to say it. I knew the losers were bisexual. But this told me, unequivocally, that Jack wasn’t. His fingers pinched a little. I may have winced, but I didn’t cry out. Flipping my head so my hair would fall backward, out of my eyes, I said, “Your deal is done. Let me go.” “Hood bit me.” “Impossible.” He stared me down. He stared me down until I couldn’t doubt it. “Not only that, but he bit me and let me go on purpose.” “That’s a lie.” His brow went up. Just one. And I thought, please tell me you’re joking. Please smile, say you were teasing. Oh, Gaia, please be— Jack cut through my thoughts, my spiritual begging, by saying, “Fera, he chose me for a reason. To prove a point. Except, I disproved it. I answered a question.” I didn’t want to ask, but my tongue formed the words. “What question?” “Where do the pure ones descend from?” “That’s not true. I was born a wolf, raised a wolf.” He kissed me then, hard, and said, “Do you know what Hood does, out in the human world?” I blinked. My mind raced. “He’s a doctor.” “Correction, sweetheart. He’s a geneticist.” “A gen…geneti—” “Studies how—” “I know what a geneticist is.” I yanked free of him. 118

Carys Weldon “I work for a firm called Wolf Enterprises. In connection with Lobos International.” His voice went into a tunnel then. I was struggling against fainting. My vision blurred as he explained, of all things, Wolf and Lobos to me. “National and world organizations, consortiums for werewolves and garou kin.” Several members of Pack City interacted there, or traveled for the cause, in the name of one company or the other, or one of its many subsidiaries. I wondered how they could not have recognized him when he came through P.C. Or he them. I insisted, “But you were human. Not kin.” Confused, I said, “You said you were bit. This doesn’t make sense.” It didn’t make sense because Wolf and Lobos only hired garou. Unnaturals weren’t even on the scale, because they were all supposed to be terminated upon discovery. Or so I thought. “Try and forget what you think you know. And consider this—Humans are being selectively culled, bitten, added to the race of the garou.” “But that’s…unnatural. Hood, of all people, is against that.” “He sure talks the talk, doesn’t he?” Jack smiled, then, and added, “Sweetheart, I’m telling you, there’s a secret organization within Lobos that is breeding a new, stronger race. A genetically enhanced, random code, widening the gene pool—eliminating the losers by strengthening the DNA. You’re a product of a union between a garou and a bitten.” “But—” “Always, the garou must be wolf born. Or the 119

Pack City random code gets screwed up. Lines up wrong. Stacks the brain cells on top of each other. Thus, the rogue unnaturals that you all fear.” It was too much to take in. My brother, the great supremacist, was actually a revolutionary in genetic engineering? Why had he preached so hard to me, when I had the ability to help in the very experiments that he seemed so involved in?

120

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Chapter Thirteen go to such elaborate lengths to have “WhymedidbredHood and disgraced?” I didn’t understand.

“Why not take me into the city, introduce us normally?” Jack waited a minute before forcing himself to relax, to smile, and ask, “You think you would have fallen for me without the added intrigue?” “Yes,” I frowned. “No.” Confused, I said, “Maybe.” Who could know? Why had Hood not confided in me? Before I realized it, Jack had led me to the sofa, had me down on it, and was stroking the back of my neck, helping me to relax, too. My brain was stuttering through all that he’d told me. I asked, “How did he pick you?” Jack shrugged, grinned. “You’ll have to ask him, but I don’t think your brother is at liberty.” I squinted up at him. “What do you mean by that?” “I happened to overhear some of his long range plans.” “Where?” “At Lobos.” 121

Pack City “No. Hood works for Mark Wolf Enterprises.” “Which is a subsidiary of Lobos.” He clarified, “I don’t think your brother is really at liberty to detail all he does.” “So what were you doing there, before you were bit?” Jack laughed then, leaned back, looked up at the ceiling. There was a fan above us, lazily spinning, keeping the air from feeling stagnant. “I thought I was doing a demo on tri-athalon fitness. Possibly working up a commercial deal for that new protein drink they’re peddling.” My mind hooked on the tri-athalon part. “You’re an Olympian?” I’d heard about them, but never seen one. Many of the garou in Pack City followed the Olympics. Now I knew why it fascinated them so. Possible breeders? Jack’s hand kept up its deep tissue massage. I could feel the stress leaving my body, virtually melting out of me. And his voice, closer to my ear, soft, sexy, sensual, asked, “That’s where my stamina comes from. Hours of training.” It made me giggle. Holy shit. He had me again. Trusting him, wanting him to hold me. Thinking about how many times we’d done it already. Not noticing at the time—just how fast he moved. Blink of an eye fast. Unbelievable reflexes. Total knowledge of the pressure points of a body. I asked suddenly, “What the hell happened last night? I think I’m missing things.” “First crinos is like that.” 122

Carys Weldon “How would you know? How long have you been changing?” “Long enough.” I hated the runaround. I bit my lower lip, “What happened while I was delirious?” He chuckled. “Ah. Now you want me to talk dirty to you.” I started to say no, then stuttered, and shut my lips. But a second later, I accused, “You let the losers watch?” “I was a little wrapped up in the event. You could say that you had me totally enthralled.” “But—” “You were a bitch in heat, all over me, and I had no will to protest.” “Still—” His lips were on my collarbone. “Still,” he kissed me, “Some things, things I know are not anything to worry about, are not more important enough to stop my lovemaking…with you.” That whole spiel was punctuated with multiple, tiny kisses all across my collarbone. I pushed him away. He was making it hard to think. Hard to stay mad. “Don’t tell me that you fucked me with an audience, and it didn’t turn you on more.” He chuckled. “I never would say something like that.” “So, what did they do?” “Hm?” He frowned, drew back, then shrugged, “Beat their own sticks while they watched, I think. But that’s just a guess. I really wasn’t watching them.” 123

Pack City “Why can’t I remember?” “Too heavenly,” he suggested with a smirk. “Or too…insanely phenomenal that your brain has relegated the memory to another realm?” That made me laugh. “You’re full of yourself.” “My new position at Lobos has me a little selfimpressed.” “What is it?” “Top breeder.” The oafish grin on his face should have tipped me off that he was teasing me. But, honestly, I pretty much felt my heart stop. Break, actually. Visions of him doing the gigolo act all across the world, flying in, fucking the world, traveling on—rushed my brain. How many times can a heart shatter and be put together? It was a cruel joke. It scared me. Instead of laughing, like I think he wanted me to do, I choked out, “So, who’s next on your list. Do I know the lucky girl?” That made him blink. Putting his nose right up to mine, he said, “Fera, you and I are the top choice for an offspring. Lobos is counting on us to prove their point, to strengthen the lines.” “So, all my worries about Hood slitting me open...” “Made it easier for me to extricate you, for him to put on the hunt without loss of pride. Kept other mutts off of you until I was able to come for you.” “How long will it go on, this hunt?” “How long will it take for you to give me children?” “What if I don’t want to have babies? Or if I can’t?” 124

Carys Weldon At that moment, I had a desperate need to confide in a female. To word my fears to Kayty. To get some direction, hear some motherly advice. I knew she wouldn’t judge me. And she was pregnant. She could help me through the ordeal ahead of me. Frankly, I hated the focus our kind had on procreation, and purification. I hated the idea of being a laboratory rat. I asked Jack, “How do you feel, to be pulled into this whole thing?” “I should lie. I should say that I’m thrilled to fuck a princess, to father her children, but honestly, it’s been hard to work through.” I didn’t expect that kind of straight up truth. “But?” “But I’m an Olympian, Fera. I’d rather stand on the top block than not stand at all.” Okay. I readjusted on the sofa, so I could face him. “So, when the losers caught you, you were totally not expecting that. It wasn’t part of the plan.” “I don’t think so.” “But you used them.” I put a hand to Jack’s cheek, “What block are you aiming for now?” Jack kissed me. “Sweetheart, they picked us for prom king and queen. The least we can do is oblige them by stepping up to rule the kingdom. What do you say?” “You don’t mean…Pack City.” “No.” “The world?” “One rung at a time.” He kissed me. “One rung at a time, sweetheart.” He kissed me again. 125

Pack City Call me crazy, but the thrill of his sureness that we could do it had me going for it. Going for him. Diving onto his body, pressing him back with the fervor of my acceptance. It took him all of about two seconds to grab a hold of my breasts, and squeeze. To free his lips and ask, “Then, you’re with me?” I tried my hand at teasing. “You sure you want me as your queen?” He rolled me off onto the floor, freed himself from the pants he had on, (just undid the closure), slid his cock inside me, and asked, “Is there any doubt?” Closing my eyes, I murmured with pleasure, “Mm. You may have to convince me.” But then, I had to bite my bottom lip, because he was very thorough, and very serious in his convincing. All I could do is hang on, wait for our explosions. Or implosions. Furious proving. Definitive depth plummeting. Satiating end all. A thought struck me, as I curled up against his chest later. “Alpha female, Jack. Not queen.” I felt his chest rumble. I knew he was amused. I propped myself up, looked down at him, “And I need some clothes if I’m going to live in this city.” “We’re going to have to move around a lot, I think. Hood’s obligated to put up a good effort at hunting us down.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “In fact, we have a plane to catch pretty soon.” Getting up, he led me to the shower. That was an experience…in Olympian stamina. I rubbed soap all over him, a few times. All under. In every crack. Around every…thing. And then he 126

Carys Weldon did it to me. Talk about your sensual experience. I loved it when he ran the soap over my midriff while he rubbed against my back with his body. But this is funny…I dropped the soap on purpose, got down on my hands and knees to find it. We had a lot of suds. And, for the first time ever, he said, “I don’t know if I can do this.” Too big for the tub, and that position at the same time. Ever do it on the bathroom floor, all suds’d up? Doggy style, like that, is a bitch. Your knees slip. You slide. You get giggling. He gets laughing, trying to smooth the bubbles off of you, trying to hold you in place. That’s the great thing about Jack; he laughs a lot and he gets a grip when he needs to. Never say die. Thank Gaia, Jack’s in the pack.

THE END

127

About the Author Weldon is a great fan of the White Wolf Carys Gaming system, especially shape-shifters. She

writes her horrific romance from a haunted hollow in the Missouri Ozarks, not far from Branson.