Animal Behavior (13 page)

“Like I have no choice in the matter?”

“No, frankly, you don’t.”

Alex leaned in and brushed the hair from Gwen’s face. He
kissed her and kept his mouth pressed against hers until she returned his
advance. Gwen couldn’t help herself. Her body thrummed with energy the moment
their skin met. She didn’t wait for him to undress her. She wriggled from his
embrace, stood and stripped off her clothes. He’d already seen her in all kinds
of naked. Alex stood and followed suit. He pulled her into an embrace and his
hands roamed over her body.

“Are you going to—change—again?”

“Probably, but remember, Gwen, it is still me.”

He kissed her neck and massaged her breast. With his other
he hand petted a twisting path down her belly and paused to play circles in the
hair between her legs. Gwen’s body responded with hardening nipples and flowing
juices. He pushed his fingers between her pussy lips and ground her clit under
his thumb. She felt his cock stiffen against her and groped hungrily, wrapping
her hand around the rock-hard shaft. It was thick and hot and she couldn’t wait
to have it inside her.

“Fuck me,” she pleaded.

He turned her body and pushed her down so she was kneeling
on the couch with her arms draped over the back. When he dragged his
fingernails from her shoulder to her tailbone, her skin tingled and broke out
in goose bumps. She felt him crouch behind her and caught her breath when his
face pressed between her legs. He began lapping at the sweet cream and Gwen dug
into the upholstery.

Reaching under her, he grabbed a breast in each hand. She
looked down at herself and the sight of his long fingers pinching the nipples
into hard peaks sent a thrill through her body. Arching her back, she pushed
against his hands and mouth. A sharp pain brought her attention back to her
breasts. His hands had elongated and his nails had become claw-like. The tongue
that lapped at her sex seemed to probe more deeply and she could feel his
thickening beard grazing her inner thighs. She contorted her body to see what
Alex had become.

He lifted his head and glared at her. Through his
transformation he’d grown much taller, his muscles were noticeably bigger and
his cock had grown to an almost frightening size. It looked like the penis of a
man, with a hard, veiny shaft and a smooth, bulbous head, but it grew out of a
pelvis covered with thick coppery hair. She was terrified and thrilled and
overwhelmed with longing.

She slid her gaze up his body and back to his man-wolf face.
He was somehow beautiful and she could see Alex behind the huge, amber-colored
eyes. He squinted as if trying to read her thoughts. She responded by jutting
her ass backward, bumping into his enormous erection. One corner of his mouth
tugged upward and the sinister smile revealed elongated teeth. He slid his
hands from her breasts to her hips then centered the head of his cock against
her opening.

“Please,” she whispered.

The growl was deafening. He inched forward slowly at first
and Gwen rested her head on the back of the couch, preparing herself for him.
Her clit was engorged and throbbing.

“Please, Alex!” He thrust into her, pushing her breasts
against the rough back of the couch and causing her to cry out in pleasure-pain
as he filled her. He began pumping wildly and each punishing stroke rasped her
stuffed inner walls and stretched her so the hood of her clit was tugged,
massaging the sensitive nub. His fingers dug into her flesh and the pinpricks
heightened her desire. The rough upholstery teased her swinging tits and grazed
the tight nipples.

Her thoughts were disjointed as her mind tried to focus on a
million points of sensation. The orgasm rushed over her and she threw back her
head and called out his name. When her pussy spasmed and clamped down on his
marauding shaft, he rammed into her again and when he was buried to the hilt,
he ground his hips against her ass, drawing out her climax until she was
gasping for air. She couldn’t take any more. Her sodden pussy was a mass of
electrified nerve endings, but he was merciless. Even as her spasms were still
subsiding, he resumed his frantic plunges. Every stroke was agony and ecstasy.

He suddenly withdrew from her. “I want to see your face,” he
growled, then sat back on the sofa and guided her until she was kneeling over
his lap. His hands dug into her hips and as he lowered her onto his thick
shaft, her raw canal registered every inch of him. She thought she could even
feel the deep ridge behind his cock head. The instant the notion crossed her
mind, he lifted her until the collar was positioned directly over her G-spot.
She held on to his muscular shoulders and allowed him to take full control of
her movements.

The thrusts became shorter, concentrating on the magical
internal bundle of nerves. This time when her orgasm built, it came from deep
inside her body. Her focus turned inward and she pressed her cheek against his
face, wanting to impale herself on his huge cock, but afraid of moving him from
his mark. She felt his long, rough tongue snake up the side of her throat and
probe her ear. Her entire body seemed to contract around him, pulling him into
her, and when her climax came, it radiated out from her center like the
explosion of a firework.

Her feral response seemed to spur him on. He dug harder into
her hips and yanked her body down against him. As her awareness returned, she
could feel his pelvis thrust up to meet her bruised sex and could hear the
sucking of her dripping pussy as he pummeled her. The orgasm crashed over her
in unrelenting waves and she thought she would go mad from the glorious mix of
pleasure and pain. She gave herself over to it and felt as if she were floating,
tethered to the Earth by the place where their bodies met. Alex’s quickening
grunts and growls called her back, then it was over with long spurts of hot cum
and an otherworldly howl.

Several Weeks Later

Alex steered the golf cart through the cars and motorcycles
parked in front of his house and glanced over at Gwen. The nervous energy was
rolling off her. It was the morning of first moon week since she’d learned
about the pack and her role in it. Today they would make it official.

For the past few weeks she’d spent nearly every daylight
hour down in the fledgling cave poring over the battered leather journal. Each
morning after breakfast she would pack a lunch, kiss Alex goodbye then head out
the door with her dog in tow. They had dinner together every evening and spent
the nights making love. Her draw was irresistible and Alex thought he’d never
get his fill of her.

Swinging the golf cart into a spot at the base of the
stairs, Alex cut the engine and turned to her. “Ready?” he asked.

She shrugged. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Are you sure I’m
dressed okay?”

He swept his gaze over her. Despite assuring Gwen that this
get-together was casual, she’d spent the better part of an hour trying on
everything in her closet. In the end she’d settled on jeans and a red cashmere
sweater. The top hugged her curves and the low neckline framed her cleavage.

Alex couldn’t wait until this party was over so he could get
her back into bed. He’d be sure to get rid of the guests long before sunset so
he and Gwen could spend some quality time together. After moon rise she could
sleep while he ran with the pack. He had a feeling she’d need the rest after
the ceremony.

“You look great, Gwen. Like I said, there’s nothing to be
nervous about. Now, do you have your speech ready?”

A look of horror overtook her pretty face. “Speech? You
didn’t say anything about a speech!”

Alex chuckled. “I’m kidding. Just relax and enjoy it. This
is your moment. Now let’s go in. Everyone is waiting to see you.”

As they climbed the stairs, Gwen squinted toward the shadows
in the tree line. “Is that a horse?”

Following her gaze, Alex spotted the animal hitched to a
sapling at the edge of the lawn. “Jeremiah is here.”

“Jeremiah?” Gwen asked.

“The pack shaman. He founded the enclave with your great,
great…honestly I don’t know how many
greats,
but your ancestor Mathias
Chaney.”

Gwen nodded and followed him up the stairs. As soon as he
opened the front door, the sounds of music and laughter spilled out of the
house. The entire pack had gathered in the spacious great room and it seemed
everyone had a drink in hand.

Several members had gathered around the pool table. Henry
Wagner was bent over the green felt, his cue drawn back to break, when he
spotted Alex. The barber quickly stood, laid the stick on the table and bowed
his head. In an instant all eyes were on Alex. His skin tingled as, in unison,
they all dropped their gazes to the floor. Alex silently released them and they
queued up, in order of seniority, to greet their new alpha and human consort.

After Tiny Wainwright had said his helloes, he crossed to
the jukebox and switched off the music. The last in line, behind even Henry,
was Sergei Markov.

The tension in the room was palpable as the Russian
approached slowly, staring at his enormous feet. “Greetings, my alpha.”

Sergei’s arms hung at his sides and Alex had to reach out to
initiate a handshake.
You are welcome here, Sergei. No hard feelings,
Alex telepathed. It wasn’t until Alex placed his left hand on his predecessor’s
shoulder that the big man met his gaze.

Guiding Sergei to his side, Alex looked at each of the other
guests in turn. “The transfer of power has been made peacefully. The strength
of this pack depends on inclusion and cooperation. Sergei Markov remains a
valuable and trusted member of our community. Understood?”

The new alpha’s statement was answered by nods. Alex patted
Sergei between the shoulder blades, then held out his hand to Gwen. She joined
him at his other side, and Alex smiled out at the group. “This is a party,
folks! We’re here to welcome our new human consort. Most of us don’t remember a
time before John Chaney. He served us well and now his granddaughter will
uphold his legacy. With that, I’ll turn the proceedings over to Jeremiah
Morgan.”

The crowd parted as the shaman strode from the back of the
room. Jeremiah looked like a middle-aged man, but Alex had been told he was
centuries old. His silver hair hung over his shoulders in two long, neat braids
and he was dressed from head to toe in buckskin. When Jeremiah stopped in front
of them and smiled, Alex felt a deep peacefulness.

The shaman looked Gwen over then turned back to Alex. “Do
you present this human to the pack in full confidence in her merit as a
candidate for consort?”

Alex squeezed Gwen’s hand and was so overwhelmed with pride
that he could barely find his voice. “I do.”

A jolt of energy coursed through Gwen’s body when Alex
placed her hand in Jeremiah’s. The shaman led her across the room and
positioned her beside a large copper bowl that had been set on a wooden stand
in front of the fireplace.

The guests quietly gathered in a semicircle facing them.
Gwen recognized several people from the garage sale and nodded at them. Their
faces remained expressionless and fear knotted in her belly. She had an
overwhelming urge to turn her head, and when she did, Jeremiah was staring at
her.

“Gwen Chaney, granddaughter of John Chaney, direct
descendant of Mathias Chaney, do you understand why you have been called here?”
Jeremiah asked.

Gwen nodded. When he did not continue, she understood that
she must speak. “I do.”

“Do you accept the duty of your legacy with free will and an
open heart?”

“I do.”

“Have you carefully read the instructions left to you by
your ancestors?”

“I have.”

“Do you swear to guard with your life the secrets of the
moon people and the mysteries you shall witness?”

Guard with your life?
Gwen swallowed hard before
answering, “I do.”

Jeremiah moved behind the wooden stand and slid open a small
drawer below the copper bowl. He drew out a knife and Gwen’s heart thundered.

The shaman grabbed Gwen’s wrist and held her hand, palm up,
over the bowl. She glanced out at the two dozen or so people between herself
and the exit and realized that escape would be impossible. Turning back to
Jeremiah, Gwen took a deep breath and awaited her fate.

Tightening his grip on her wrist, Jeremiah held the knife
over her hand. “As you have promised your loyalty to us, so we give you ours in
return. Human you remain, though none on Earth will be held in higher esteem.”

Gwen fought the urge to squeeze her eyes shut and watched as
he lowered the dagger. Though she was prepared to have her wrist slit open, he
only pressed the cold blade into her fingertip. He made a tiny incision, less
than a quarter inch, and milked a few drops of blood into the bowl.

Jeremiah swept his thumb over the wound and it instantly
sealed shut. He then held his own hand over the bowl, pricked his finger and
squeezed his blood into the vessel.

The shaman didn’t speak and Gwen didn’t notice him give any
signal, but the group fell into an orderly line and each guest stepped forward
in turn with their hand extended, awaiting the prick of the dagger.

Alex was the last to add his blood to the bowl. He met her
gaze and winked at her, then stepped back into the crowd of onlookers. Jeremiah
licked the blade clean, placed the knife back in the stand and nodded to the
group.

Tiny Wainwright stepped forward and bowed to the shaman. The
biker grabbed Gwen’s left wrist and pushed up the sleeve of her sweater. The
thick fabric bunched up above her elbow but wouldn’t advance any farther. Tiny
glanced at the shaman as if looking for direction.

One corner of Jeremiah’s mouth quirked up. “Miss Chaney, if
you’ll please remove your sweater so we may complete the ceremony.”

Gwen hesitated for only a moment, then slid the cashmere
over her head and let it drop to the floor. She’d worn her lacy red pushup bra,
knowing how much Alex loved it, and when she glanced over at him, she could see
the passion in his eyes.

The feeling of dozens of admiring eyes on her was
intoxicating. Her nipples hardened against the silky fabric and her pussy
tingled and creamed. Gwen couldn’t wait for this little ceremony to be over. As
soon as the last guest was out of here, she was going to be all over Alex.

Tiny Wainwright stepped back up to Gwen and looked over the
length of her arm. She glanced at the front of his jeans and saw the hard line
of an erection pressing against the faded denim. His hand was shaking as he
dipped a finger into the copper bowl.

Holding her at the elbow with one hand, he quickly traced a
design on her upper arm in blood, and stepped back into the group. When Gwen
saw the spiral within the inverted triangle—painted in the blood of everyone
gathered there—the sense of pride and belonging overwhelmed her.

She was still admiring her wolf’s mark when Jeremiah sidled
up beside her, slipped his arm around her bare waist and addressed the pack.
“It is my great honor to present to you your new human consort, Gwendolyn Rose
Chaney!”

A cheer went up from the crowd and Gwen did a double take at
hearing her full given name. She laughed when she realized how silly it was to
be surprised that this group would know it.

Gwen was still basking in her official welcome when Alex
shouldered his way through the pack and swept her into a bear hug. He kissed
her hard then pressed his lips to her ear. “I’m so proud of you, babe! How
about a drink?”

“Can I put my clothes back on?” she whispered.

Alex winked at her. “For the time being, but don’t get too
used to it. I’m going to go circulate.”

Gwen had no sooner pulled her sweater over her head than a
glass of champagne was pressed into her hand. She looked up into Sergei’s deep,
dark eyes. He smiled down at her. “I have not had a chance to offer my
apologies,” he said.

“No harm done, big guy. Let’s just chalk it up to too much
wine, huh?”

The Russian bowed. “You are too generous. Thank you.”

Sergei slipped away and the solemn mood of the ceremony was
quickly replaced by a full-on party vibe. Gwen sipped her champagne and studied
the group. It was hard to believe that each and every person in that room would
become the kind of snarling, snapping man-beast she’d seen in her cabin just a
few weeks ago.

The females of the pack were outnumbered two to one and Gwen
wondered if they transformed into something as ferocious as the males. She
watched a tall, leggy redhead knock back a tequila shooter and supposed they
did.

Gwen glanced at the clock over the mantle. It was just past
noon. She drained her glass then made her way to the bar for a refill. Henry
the barber and a few others had resumed their game of eight ball. When Gwen
walked by the pool table, they stopped what they were doing and gave her a
deferential nod.

Tiny Wainwright passed between them, dialed up the volume on
the jukebox, then laid a beefy hand on Gwen’s shoulder. “We’re real glad to
have you here, Miss Gwen. I know you’ll do your granddaddy proud.”

She couldn’t help but glance at his crotch and was surprised
to see his hard-on still straining against his jeans. When she looked back in
his eyes he winked. “We werewolves run hot, ma’am. No disrespect intended.”

“None taken,” she said with a laugh.

Gwen finished her second glass of champagne and Tiny poured
her another. The excitement of the ceremony seemed to amplify the effects of
the alcohol. Alex had told her that the world she was now a part of was highly
sexual. She wondered exactly what the big biker was packing in his pants. She
tipped her wine stem in his direction. “Will you join me for one?”

Tiny shook his head. “No ma’am, I don’t drink. But I’d be
happy to sit with you while…”

He stopped and jerked his head toward the front of the
house. “Excuse me, Miss Gwen.”

Gwen watched as he hurried to the front door and peered out
the window. He laid his hand on the rubbed bronze handle, then looked back over
his shoulder and whistled. The crowd fell silent. When he was sure he had
everyone’s attention, he nodded. “Y’all, we’ve got company.” Then he turned and
locked his gaze on Gwen, “You’re on.”

* * * * *

Later the Same Day

Gwen’s hands shook as she turned the key in the cell door.
She’d read and reread every entry her predecessors had made in the journal, but
she didn’t feel anything like prepared.

Just a few hours ago she’d been the guest of honor at one
hell of a party. In her worst nightmares she couldn’t have dreamed that the
pledge she’d made so recently would be tested so soon.

She knew she shouldn’t be surprised. Alex had told her that
there were no coincidences in the shadow world. No doubt this weird universe
she found herself in had aligned to bring her first fledgling to her at the
first possible opportunity.

One minute she’d been sipping champagne, and the next some
young guy was collapsed in Alex’s foyer seeking refuge before the three-quarter
moon.

Dan Hunter, who turned out to be just two weeks shy of his
thirtieth birthday, said he’d been bitten a few days before while out hiking in
the forest just outside of Talbot. “I know I should have just got back to my
dirt bike and driven myself back home,” he’d said. “But it’s like, you know, I
couldn’t.”

He couldn’t explain why, but after wrapping his neck wound
with strips of T-shirt and subsisting on cattails and creek water, he’d hiked
over unknown terrain and eventually limped his way up to the huge log home.

Dan had passed out after recounting his strange vision quest
and Jeremiah Morgan had tended to the young man’s bite. The leggy redhead—the
one Gwen had witnessed knocking back tequila shots at the party—had copped to
the attack. “He just smelled so
fucking good!
” she’d offered by way of
explanation.