AlphaMountie (10 page)

Next, the talons raked his nose.

He couldn’t see it coming—he couldn’t smell it coming—and
the mad caws of the murderer they’d been tracking echoed off the cave walls. His
only sense left was hearing, and it was useless.

Cam’s wolf self took over. He howled. He rubbed his head along
the dirt ground, grit nestling into the scratches on his eyes like sandpaper. He
snarled at the air and snapped his teeth at nothing. All the while the jay laughed
at him. The wolf flattened himself to the ground, almost submissive, crawling on
all fours. Forward, forward—sensing the wind in his fur. His tail between his legs,
the wolf crawled as the jay laughed. Every instinct in his body told him to be dominant—he
was an alpha, damn it! He could eviscerate a tiny bird.

But the human part of his soul that was still left thought
of Noire.

Eventually he reached the opening to the cave again. The cold
night air numbed his pain. For a moment, he let himself lie there in the dirt,
wolf chest heaving, sucking in giant breaths of air.

He couldn’t hear the jay anymore.

His human self knew that wasn’t a good sign. He’d seen the
pile of pelts—dozens, so many more deaths than Cam and his team of detectives had
realized, and Page had access to all of them. Any animal he could imagine might
attack him next.

Cam rolled onto his back, whimpering, showing his belly at
the air. He shut his eyelids, trying to take stock of his ruined face. The eyes
were gone, destroyed. The nose was useless. His only hope was to change to human,
speed up the healing process. But he’d left his pistol in the woods. His human body,
naked, would have no defenses.

With a scream Cam changed. Fur melted into flesh, front legs
molded into arms, his tail pulled up against his body, and what was left of the
flesh of his eyes reshaped itself. He lay in a fetal position, pink flesh exposed
to the world like a newborn.

And then he opened his eyes, and he saw the black bear coming
toward him.

Nearly eight feet tall and over five hundred pounds in mass,
the bear roared. Before today, Cam thought he knew what teeth were—he’d had many
a fight with young wolves challenging his position in his former pack. But he’d
never seen a bear’s teeth this close before.

Cam the human stood, naked and vulnerable, and met the bear’s
attack. There was simply nothing else to do.

When Noire found the clearing by the cave again, her worst fears
were realized. As she saw the bear—her sister’s killer—attack her nude, defenseless
lover, raking claws down his chest, Noire raised the shotgun to her shoulder and
fired.

Her shot went high. She’d been sloppy, so distraught by seeing
Cam in danger that she hadn’t braced herself for the recoil. The shotgun hit her
cheek and she knew there’d be a large bruise the next day, if she survived. If
they
survived, for she knew that if Cam died, she wouldn’t make it out alive either.
This creature was not killing both of the people she loved more than anything in
the world.

The bear roared in pain. Noire had struck the top of his head,
just a graze, but enough to throw him off balance. Cam darted to the side, changing
as he went—Noire could see his body slipping out of humanity, growing fur. She raised
the shotgun to her shoulder again, reloading as she went. She aimed and fired.

This time, the bear ducked, but she’d scared him. He squealed
and roared and turned, heading back not to the cave but behind a thicket of bushes.

Still carrying her weapon, Noire ran to find Cam in wolf form.
He lay on his side. His right eye was oozing something horrible and the skin on
his chest beneath the fur was made up of red ribbons of flesh. His chest rose and
fell with his breath, out of time, not steady like a healthy animal’s should. She
crouched over him, protecting the wolf with her body. She leaned down, pressing
her face to his, and kissed his snout.

“Please don’t die,” she said. “I love you.”

With that the wolf whimpered and rolled onto his feet. Noire
felt the coldness in her heart warm and fill, and with that her own strength grew.
The wolf whimpered and she looked up, readying her shotgun to meet the bear again.

The bear was gone.

Instead, a beautiful young doe stood in front of her. The white-tailed
deer was graceful and perfect. She stood less than four feet from Noire and the
wolf. Everything about her matched Noire’s sister Fawn perfectly. The tan firmness
of her back, the skittish stance of her legs, the big, brown, guileless eyes.

But she knew it wasn’t Fawn. This thing had killed Fawn, skinned
her alive, enjoyed her screams and then came after her lover.

Noire raised the shotgun and fired point blank into the face
of what used to be her little sister. Then she reloaded and fired again.

By the time Cam had changed again, wolf to human and human back
to wolf, his flesh had finally started to heal. Noire couldn’t look at him. She
was seated on the ground, weeping helplessly. She barely noticed when he rose on
four legs and limped to the dying body of the white-tailed deer. He leaned down
and ripped out Page’s throat.

She felt Cam lick the blood off his snout, willing it to fill
him, warm his belly and give him strength. Some of that strength made it to Noire
and she held it close, deep inside her. When the wolf placed his head gently in
her lap, she cried into his fur.

Later at the campsite, Noire finished cooking their supper—soup
from a freeze-dried packet. She didn’t have the heart to kill and skin a rabbit
tonight.

Her heart lifted as she heard Cam’s footsteps—or rather, she
sensed them even before he reached the site. She kept her eyes lowered at first,
scared of what she might see. He’d sent her back alone, knowing she couldn’t watch
him dispose of the body of her sister’s killer wearing the flesh of her sister.
He must have burned it; she didn’t want to know.

“I’ve got it.” His warm, deep voice soothed her and she managed
a small, wan smile. She raised her head, looking him in the eye. “Here,” he said,
and held out his arms. He carried a small tan piece of fur—what was left of Fawn’s
pelt after Noire’s shotgun had torn a hole in it. On his back was his pack, and
his clothing seemed whole, with no blood seeping through. His eyes were gray like
his wolf’s, healed, and looked straight at hers.

Relief shook her whole body as she took him in an embrace.

They burned Fawn’s pelt and said a small Native prayer, wishing
her safe passage to whatever lay beyond. Then they ate the soup, warming their insides
and recovering their strength. They couldn’t stop touching each other and Noire
sat in Cam’s lap while they ate, feeding each other from a single spoon, licking
chicken flavoring from each other’s lips.

Noire, the consummate loner, never wanted to be alone again.

“There’s something I want to show you,” Cam said hesitantly.

“What is it?”

“It’s… I’m not sure how you’ll react. So I’m asking you to please
keep an open mind.” She’d never seen him looking this shy before. His long black
lashes hid his eyes and his left cheek dimpled as he smiled.

“Don’t I know all your secrets by now?” she asked. What could
be stranger than knowing the man she loved turned into a wolf?

“This isn’t my secret, Noire.” Cam reached into his pack now
and pulled out a patch of fur—black as the night sky. He held it up to Noire’s hair.
“It matches,” he said. “I think it’s meant to be yours.”

She knew what it was right away. The bear’s pelt. His original
pelt, she supposed, from whatever creature he was before he sold his soul for immortality.
But what was she supposed to do with it?

Cam answered her unspoken question. “You’ve got shifter blood
in you, sweetheart. The legends say, if you kill a shifter, and you take their pelt,
you can become them. This was your kill, Noire. I merely finished the job.”

She took the bear’s pelt in her arms. It was soft. Softer than
she ever would have imagined. It should have disgusted her. It was the torn skin
of the creature that had murdered her sister, and tried to kill her and Cam. But
as soon as she touched it, she realized the fur felt…well, it felt like home.

“I want to lock you away somewhere,” Cam said slowly. “I thought
sending you back to the campsite would protect you, but instead my foolishness almost
got us both killed. You’re a warrior, just like I am. And, Noire, I don’t want to
lose you. Come with me? Or let me stay here, in the forest, with you. Wherever we
are, we’re fighters. I’ve made a pledge to fight against evil and restore nature
to the world. You can help me with that. This pelt will give you strength you never
imagined.”

She stroked the pelt with her hand, then held it against her
cheek, breathing deep. It smelled of the woods, the depth of pine needles, the pungent
scent of animal dung and sweat. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was hers.

“So, you want me to change, like you? Become an animal?” she
asked.

“Well, no. I mean, I can teach you how not to lose your human
self. You’d never become like him.”

“Oh I know. I have no fear of that. I was just thinking. If you
want me to change, like you, well, I suppose I’d have to fuck like an animal too.”
She placed the pelt down beside the fire and lifted her shirt over her head.

His eyes warmed with understanding and he began to unfasten his
belt. She leaned forward, crouching onto her hands and knees like a wolf (or a bear),
pressing her limbs into the dirt. She felt his warmth against her back and he kissed
the nape of her neck. His tongue trailed, hot, down her spine, sending her into
shivers of ecstasy. His hand found her clit through the fabric of her jeans, teasing
her until her cunt grew wet with need. With a moan of frustration, she pushed
his hand away and removed her jeans and panties on her own, kicking off her
shoes and tossing them aside.

When he came up behind her and pushed his cock into her cunt,
she was ready—beyond ready, she’d been waiting for this all her life. He filled
her up and she whimpered, leaning into him, pushing him in as far as she could take
him, embracing the pain. She murmured, “I want it fast this time—fuck me fast and
hard,” and he slammed against her, balls hitting her wetness in time to their thrusts.
They rutted like animals next to the fire and she loved every minute of it. She
embraced it and him, letting him into every part of her body and soul.

Of course, an alpha bear like Noire couldn’t let a wolf totally
dominate her, so just as she sensed he was about to come, she flipped around, grasping
Cam’s face between her hands, pulling his mouth to hers. Her tongue invaded him,
kissing him so hard she couldn’t tell where he ended and she began, and she lowered
him onto his back. He pulled her down to straddle him and she placed herself over
his cock, teasing him, taking him inside slowly, more slowly, and finally in one
fast, sharp movement that had him gasping with pleasure.

It wasn’t long before he came inside her and she raised her body.
He dripped down her thighs and she dipped her finger in her own come, wiping the
juices down his chest, on his forehead, between his lips, marking him as her own.
They kissed, mixing their bodies together, and she had never before felt such love.

After making love, they lay together in the dirt by the fire
and watched the sky. Neither of them knew any constellations other than the Big
Dipper, but they were content to look and imagine their lost loved ones looking
down.

Once Cam fell asleep, his silky head of hair resting on her breast,
she slid out from underneath him. She thought about his offer—partners, as weres
and as hunters, ridding the world of evil. How could she say no to that? How many
innocent girls like Fawn could they save? And with this man by her side, she knew
that even in the darkest of nights, she would have joy.

She picked up the bear’s pelt, black like the hair on her own
head, like the curls between her legs, like the name her shifter mother had given
her. She placed the pelt around her shoulders like a shawl.

And then Noire Pelletier began to change.

Lena Loneson is pretty much a Canadian cliché: she complains
when the temperature rises above zero, says “Eh?” far too often, and loves her beer
and poutine. However, she somehow missed the memo on learning to play hockey, so
she constantly lives in fear of deportation. Please don’t report her to the Mounties
so she can continue to write stories about love and sex in snowbanks, forests, canoes,
and maybe one day (if she gets a chance) atop the CN Tower.

Lena’s favorite erotic romance stories are those with a bit of
the unusual: you’ll see her reading and writing a lot of paranormal, sci-fi, fantasy,
and horror. Other hobbies include playing piano, walking large dogs, searching the
forests for unicorns (they *must* exist!) and anything outdoorsy.

Lena loves to hear from readers, so please check out her website
or drop her an email!

Lena welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website
and email address on her
author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.

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