Playing Wolf Read online

  “O … kay, that was weird.” Cat padded on bare feet over to the two brothers. “What’s the matter, did you get bitten? I knew I should have brought some flea powder,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood.

  Then they lifted their hands and her mouth dropped open. There, on their rib-cages, was the mark of the phoenix.

  * * * *

  “I can’t stay with her.” Ryder argued a few hours later, crashing through the undergrowth and into another clearing away from the one Cat was sleeping in just before Jayce shifted again.

  “So, patrol when she wakes up and stay out of scent range.” Jayce grunted in reply, pulling at the skin on his bare stomach as he examined the scattered, shallow scabs. It looked more like he’d taken a slide across some asphalt than a gunshot wound.

  “Leave them alone and they’ll be healed in a week,” Ryder ordered automatically. Jayce had a bad habit of picking scabs, one of his less endearing traits. “You do realize she’s about to go into heat?”

  Jayce closed his eyes and dropped his head back. His lips moved, very much like he was praying. “Yeah, I know. Why do you think I want to put as much distance between me and her as possible?”

  “Oh great, and leave me with her?” Ryder blinked in surprise. If anything, he had even less control than his brother. Jayce turned and gave him a hard look.

  “This is Cat we’re talking about. Not some two-bit whore or floozy looking for a quick fuck. Caitlin. Sweet, innocent and oh-so-we-are-not-touching-her Caitlin.” Jayce sighed heavily as he shucked out of Ryder’s leather pants.

  Pants Ryder instantly decided he was going to throw out. He loved his brother and he’d happily share a woman with him but putting your dick in the same pants as someone else? That was just sick.

  “No, you’re okay. Keep them.” He shook his head as Jayce held them out to him, his eyebrow disappearing up into his shaved hairline.

  “Thought these were your favorite pants?”

  “They were until they had your cock and balls rubbing about the inside of them.”

  Jayce barked a laugh. “Okay, so we can share pussy but not pants? That’s weird man.”

  Ryder shrugged. It was and he knew it but there were just some things he wasn’t prepared to do, some lines which couldn’t be crossed. The sanctity of a man’s pants was one of them.

  “So what we gonna do? About Caitlin? About mom?”

  Jayce rolled his shoulders, easing the heavy muscles across his back as he stepped into the middle of the clearing and shuffled his feet. Recognizing his brother’s pre-change ritual, Ryder stepped back.

  “Cat … I dunno. You figure it out, I need some decent clothes and food before I go stir-fucking crazy. Mom? We find the bastard who killed her and make him pay. In blood,” Jayce said over his shoulder and launched into a run, changing forms mid-air and already in wolf form by the time he disappeared into the darkness.

  * * * *

  Cat woke suddenly. One moment asleep, the next, her eyes flicked open in sudden awareness. She blinked, not moving a muscle, as she tried to work out what had pulled her so quickly out of sleep. That wasn't like her. Normally she took her time about waking, unwilling to leave the comfortable area between true sleep and consciousness, but not this time.

  She lifted her head, all her wolf's senses on alert. Hikers perhaps? What hikers were doing out this late at night she didn't know but stranger things had happened. She looked a sight so she could really do without company. One look at her, scratched up with ripped and bloodstained clothes, and they'd be calling the emergency services.

  Sitting up, her movements slow and deliberate, Cat kept her attention on the forest. It wasn't hikers. When humans were around there was noise, movement as nature avoided them. A subtle movement away from those who considered themselves the “apex” predators, predators with no clue how the rest of nature played them for fools. There was nothing.

  Suppressing the shiver which raced the length of her spine, she rose into a crouch, her legs under her. Something was wrong. The whole forest was silent. Silent and dark, with an overlying presence that caught her breath in her lungs.

  Someone was watching her.

  Not moving, Cat scanned the shadows for the source of danger. Her heart pounded behind her ribcage and she opened her mouth to shout for Ryder or Jayce. Then she closed it again. Jayce was off looking for a town to lift supplies from and she had no clue where Ryder was. Gone off on patrol or something.

  Patrolling. What would Ryder patrol? The little clearing they'd staked as an impromptu lair? Why bother? She swore under her breath as the shadows to her left caught her attention. With a nonchalant air she looked away from it, the skin between her shoulder blades crawling as she checked it out again from the corner of her eye. Yes, there was definitely something in the shadows there. Something big.

  Fear quivered through Cat's slender frame as the need to run filled her. But she fought it back, shame rising high in her throat. What was she, a bloody mouse? She was a wolf and proud of it. Wolves didn't run. Ever.

  She reached down inside herself, past the physical and right into her soul, seeking the place which smelt like the woods after the rain and felt like silky fur against her skin. Her power welled within her, building in her core until it spilled out from her center and raced across her body. A tiny muscle in her jaw twitched as she deliberately held the change in check, just under her skin. In her head her wolf yipped and yammered, desperate to be free and protect her soft human body within the more dangerous form of the wolf.

  "You may as well come out, I can see you over there." She was surprised at how level and commanding her tone seemed. She didn't feel like that inside. Inside she was less dominatrix and more marshmallow. The branches rustled, parting as … Ryder stepped out…

  Chapter Four

  A town, to Jayce's surprise, was relatively easy to find once he'd located the road. Running parallel in the cover of the forest it wasn't long before the lights of civilization lit the night sky up ahead. Slowing he trotted to the edge of the trees, parked his furry butt and looked out of the shadows.

  He wrinkled his nose at the scene laid out in front of him. Small town America in the ass-end of beyond. Worse, in mountain country. He wouldn’t be surprised if half the inhabitants were married to their cousins and played the banjo. This early in the morning most places were shut up. Just the all-night diner was open, a hint of movement through the windows telling him there was someone at home.

  Still in wolf form Jayce broke cover and padded around the back, staying in the deeper shadows as much as he could. At this time of the morning he wasn't as bothered about being seen as he would’ve been in broad daylight. Most people were in bed and if they did happen to look out their windows and see a large wolf skulking about, they tended to dismiss it as an ordinary wolf scavenging for trash.

  Food, he needed food, and clothing. Some form of vehicle. Nothing flashy though, he thought as he eyed up the options. He needed something nondescript, something that wouldn't stand out to the cops even if the owner did report it missing.

  Clothes were easy to find. Jayce padded into the street past the diner and made his way around the back to peek his wedge-shaped head over into the first backyard. Bingo. In front of him was a clothesline laden with all sorts of fabric goodies. Thank God for people too tired to get their laundry in before night fell. He backed up and launched himself at the top of the fence. A study in lupine elegance. Not. His body slammed into it with a heavy thud and, as it squeaked in wooden protest, he scrambled over the top with more determination than elegance.

  Landing heavily he shot a look up at the house, expecting a light to snap on at any minute. He'd made enough noise. Seconds passed and nothing happened. No lights, no curtains twitching.

  Owners must sleep at the front.

  Jayce breathed a sigh of relief. At least no one had seen that. His usual grace had deserted him thanks to the injury yesterday, and the run hadn't done him any favors. He needed to eat and
eat soon. But food meant breaking in someplace unoccupied and paws weren't so good for opening fridges. No, opposable thumbs were the order of the day which meant he needed clothes.

  Jayce approached the line, checking out what was on offer. There was enough here to provide a change for both him and Ryder and a couple for Cat. He pulled jeans and shirts from the line, the pegs snapping and pinging off to disappear into the darkness. Quickly he amassed a pile and rolled it into a ball to be carried.

  Now, underwear. Women were funny about the stuff. No doubt Cat would like another set. He moved along the line and sat under the lingerie that was pegged out, his eyes widening. He'd never seen so much underwear in one place. Black silk, red satin, a set in innocent white lace which reminded him of Caitl … then his eyes went from wide to bugging out of his head.

  Screw innocent! The white lace panties were crotchless.

  Holy hell, what I'd give to see Cat in something like that. Can I get away with taking them and pretend I didn't know what they were? Jayce jittered from paw to paw as he thought. All other considerations aside, the white set were the only ones which hadn't been worn yet, his sensitive nose easily picking up traces of scent on the others, even after washing.

  He couldn't … could he? Much as he had fantasies of Cat in revealing underwear, he knew deep down Cat wasn't the sort of woman who would wear crotchless panties. She was more strawberries and champagne. More slow romantic sex in front of a roaring fire. More virginal white satin, confetti in the hair he'd just removed a delicate tiara from…

  Longing slammed into him broadside and stole his breath. Jayce had always considered himself a “wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am” type of guy. Even though he’d fantasized about Cat before, it had never taken that particular route. Romance and marriage? With Cat?

  All the things he couldn't have. Shaking his head Jayce snapped himself out of it. Like his other daydreams and fantasies, that one was going nowhere and he knew it.

  In a rush of decisiveness, he raised up on his haunches to pull the underwear delicately from the line, trying not to tear it with his teeth. Fate though, had other ideas.

  The panties came off easily, dropped to the grass to be retrieved, but the bra hung on with the tenacity of a terrier. A low rumble filled Jayce's throat as he shook his head, trying to dislodge the damn thing, his paws backing him up across the lawn. The line bowed, the white lace bra pulled as taut as an arrow until, finally, the clothespin from hell snapped with a loud “ping”.

  Oh fuck. He didn’t get chance for more than a silent curse as the line twanged, the peg disappeared off into the bushes and the whole lot started to come down on his head.

  "Ooofff!" Jayce landed on his lupine ass in the middle of the lawn, the bra adorning the top of his head like an elegant hat. And, as if things couldn't get worse, a light snapped on in the back room of the house in front of him and the curtains twitched. Jayce stilled, channeling his inner “garden ornament”. Nothing to see here folks, just a big wolf sculpture some idiot left in your yard…

  "Maud, there's a dog in the back yard wearing your bra on its head. Big bastard as well." The voice of the guy at the window was sleepy, his puzzled expression visible even from where Jayce was sitting.

  Just a dream, go back to bed. He ignored the instinctive insult at being referred to as a dog. Couldn’t the idiot see he was a damn wolf?

  Another voice answered, clearly audible. Christ, are these people deaf or do they often carry on their conversations in shouts? "Don't be daft John, dogs don't wear bras. How would they do the clips up with their paws? Come back to bed, you gotta get up early in the morning."

  Yeah John, go back to sleep. Jayce held his breath as the guy at the window paused, frowning at him, then disappeared. The breath whooshed out of his lungs in a rush and he flipped the underwear off his head, rolled all the clothes into a ball and picked them up in his mouth. Now to find food.

  * * * *

  “Ryder?” Cat backed away from the advancing male. The look in his eyes was one she'd never seen before—hard and feral, focused intently on her. Cat couldn't work out if it scared her or whether the shiver running down her spine was excitement instead.

  A dark excitement she had no business feeling. She couldn't help it, she'd always had a thing for the Vanir brothers. Both of them. They were so alike, apart from the fact one was dark and one was blond, hardly a noticeable difference with how short their hair was. However, picking between them might not be a problem. Rumor said they shared everything.

  Another shiver hit Cat. The thought of having both their attentions did strange things to her insides. Her stomach churned but she didn’t feel sick. Warmth spread out from the cradle of her pelvis, softening her body even as every feminine instinct locked onto the man stalking towards her.

  Singly they were handsome, together they were devastating. She wanted that, she wanted them … both of them, to look at her as Ryder was now as he backed her up to the tree—like he wanted to take her right there up against the rough bark. But she didn't just want Ryder. An image of him on one side and Jayce on the other, both of them touching her, their lips on her skin, filled her mind… Oh God, I am one sick little puppy.

  "Yes?" His voice was as flat and hard as his look as he took another step towards her. His body was taut with tension and his skin rippled like heat rising off the hot sand. Cat recognized it. His change, held just under the skin and only just under control.

  "Are you alright?" Cat managed to avoid getting pinned between him and the tree, stepping around it instead, one hand on the trunk as she negotiated the tangled roots backwards.

  "No."

  "What's the matter, are you hurt?"

  The thought hadn't occurred to her before and instantly Cat kicked herself. What if he’d been injured in the bar fight as well?

  "Yeah."

  He didn't stop moving, following her around the trunk with nothing human in his eyes. Amber leached into the green color and Cat knew she was looking at Ryder's wolf, speaking to the beast within. Swallowing, she kept moving. She'd never heard of anyone but an alpha or a feral do this before … channel the wolf without changing form. Her body tensed, her instincts torn between the sexual potential of the situation and the fight or flight instinct. The human in her recognized a predator when she saw it and demanded she run but the wolf inside recognized a virile male, a potential mate. The beast zipped and struggled to be free, to slough off the human form and rub herself up against Ryder, to entice him into claiming her.

  She didn’t know if the Vanir brothers, wolves without a pack, had gone alpha being on their own. The former was the better option because if he was feral she was in a world of trouble, one that ended with her throat ripped out.

  “Where? Where are you hurt?” Worry raged with indecision as she slowed down. If he really was hurt that could be the reason she was seeing the wolf in his eyes. But her granddad had always told her to run, and run fast if she ever saw amber in a man’s eyes.

  He won’t be in control sweet-pea, it’ll be his wolf. And the wolf don’t care about nothing apart from its own needs.

  Needs. Oh my God, what sort of needs? She had her own needs. Just thinking about those sent liquid heat surging through her body to pool low in her stomach. Even worse … she felt the dampness between her thighs at the same time Ryder took a deep breath. His lips curled back as he drew the air over his tongue, tasting it, tasting her.

  “Here … I hurt here.” He sidestepped abruptly to trap her between the rough bark and his bigger body. His hand dropped to his crotch and cupped the massive erection there.

  “Oh.”

  He was too close. Way too close. So close Cat could feel the heat from his skin burning through her … his shirt. A loose shirt which was, somehow suddenly too tight and itchy. Locked in Ryder's amber gaze she couldn't move, not even to pull at where her top was stuck to her sticky skin.

  Pressing closer, the muscled wall of his chest brushed her breasts. Cat's heart pounded as he lea
ned in. He was going to kiss her, he had to kiss her. And she needed that more than she needed air to breathe.

  "So little wolf, you going to take care of me? Play nursemaid like you did for Jayce?" His voice was a dark temptation, the words whispered bare millimeters from her lips. Cat followed as he moved, pressing her back against the rough bark, as though her lips were connected to his by an invisible cord. Ryder lifted a hand and planted it beside her head, leaving a gap for her to slither out of if she wanted.

  Never run from a wolf. They liked to chase.

  Cat looked into Ryder's eyes and knew she was caught between a rock and a hard place. He had no intention of letting her go. Running would only inflame the situation, and the arousal pressed against her soft belly, more.

  She didn't want to run. In fact she wanted everything he had to give and more. The trouble was, she wasn't really sure what his everything was. The women in the pack who'd known them—known them in the biblical sense that was—before they'd left went all dreamy-eyed or hot and bothered whenever the Vanir brothers were brought up. The dark pleasure to be had in their arms was only hinted at, with no details given. So Cat's imagination had run wild. Every fantasy she had revolved around these guys, kept safely under lock and key in her head so people wouldn’t realize how deviant she was. Now that door was unlocked and wide open.

  She opened her mouth to reply but didn't get the chance. Ryder leaned down and claimed her mouth, blowing away the last of her defenses the instant his lips touched hers.

  Cat moaned helplessly, her body welcoming as he pressed her back into the tree. His kiss was hard and ruthless, plundering her lips as he caressed her curves. Down and then up, his hand sliding under her T-shirt. A rumble of surprise vibrated through the solid chest against hers as he remembered she wasn't wearing a bra. She whimpered as his fingers brushed the sensitive skin of her breast. She wanted more, always more.

  “Mine.” His voice was a dark whisper against her neck as he placed feverish kisses along her tender skin, fire following his lips. His thumb swept the curve at the underside of her breast making Cat gasp in reaction.