Page 11 of Her Wolf Protector

"What in heaven's name are you doing?"

"There's more space outside for shifting. I'll do it with you the first time, and it's cold, so I'm bringing the blankets. I'm used to stripping naked with the rest of the pack, but you're new to this, so the blankets will give you a bit of privacy until everything's covered in fur." Carefully, he set her down on the patch of grass that caught the last afternoon sun, beside the stream.

But even as he stepped back, he could still feel her. There was a bond between them, and her emotions were galloping across it into his brain. Fear and nervousness and disbelief and hope, all mixed up and twisted like a million year old river fighting its way through rock to the sea.

Tate stripped off and got down on all fours, like he had a thousand times before. He'd coached countless kids into shifting smoothly, usually under blankets because that took the pressure off being watched, and all that was practice for his mate.

His actual fated mate.

He'd shifted in front of her three times before he'd even realised she was there, but this time, he did it slowly. "First, I reach deep inside, for the animal, instinctive part of me that wants to run and hunt in the woods. Then I concentrate on the feeling of it – standing on four limbs, not two, and the scents of everything around me, because that's the most important sense to a wolf. Then I close my eyes and...shift."

It was nothing like the movies, with bones cracking and all kinds of agony. No, it just felt right, at effortless as sliding into a flow state, like letting the river carry you over the falls into a deep pool, then surfacing as someone who was still yourself, but changed, with all the unnecessary human bullshit washed away. There was instinct and that was all.

Tate stood before her, ducking his head so it was on a level with hers. She reached out to touch his muzzle, and he allowed it, closing his eyes as she stroked his fur. Unlike Sienna, his mate had known about the secret supernatural world. She didn't wonder at his transformation – no, she was sending signals filled with hardening resolve.

Tate morphed back to human. "See? It's easy. Want me to talk you through it again or...oh."

She shook off the blanket and stood on her four paws, proud as any pack leader. His mate had no intention of lowering her head in submission to anyone.

Tate dropped to his knees, the better to be at her level. Or lower. Fuck, his mate was beautiful. Yep, he'd fallen head over heels in love with her, and there was no saving him.

NINE

Huh. What did you know? Drinking a drop of a werewolf's blood while he drank a drop of yours did forge some sort of link between them. Arwen could feel him in her head. Not hear his thoughts, just...feel. It was more intimate than sex, but also...not. Because she was wrapped in a bunch of bedding, parked on her arse on the grass, and he was a metre away, stripping off his shorts. Not touching her at all.

And yet...when he dropped to all fours, she could almost feel the grass beneath his palms. Smell the stuff as his weight crushed it, growing stronger and stronger as he seemed to blur and then the wolf was there, so close she could reach out and touch him. Real, as she knew all shifters were, even if she'd never seen one shift until today.

Okay. She could do this. It might take a few tries, but her mother would be so proud if she managed it. The one thing her mother had never been able to do. And if Arwen could shift, then she could heal, and Ravenna wouldn't win.

Arwen took off her borrowed shirt, and her underwear, too, glad the blankets kept the frigid air from her bare skin. Her nipples were chips of ice even with the blankets. At least when she shifted, her fur would keep her warm.

She dropped her nose to the grass beneath her hands and inhaled, just as he had. Another deep breath, feeling her spine lengthen like the most glorious stretch. Another inhalation, even stronger now, as she shook off her fears and worries and became the wolf her mother had always wanted. Arwen shook of the blankets and stepped into the golden afternoon light. She'd never felt so free.

She inhaled the scent of Wolf Man, familiarising herself with it for the first time. Romance talked about heroes smelling of man, but the reality in this form was so complex, so nuanced...Wolf Man smelled of Wolf Man, a unique scent she'd recognise again anywhere. But there were other scents, too.

Something faint but delicious tempted her from beneath the trees. No, in the undergrowth...

Arwen bounded over to the bushes, snuffled at the base of the nearest tree, and then...SNAP! The scent was in her nostrils, but the taste was also in her mouth as she dropped the small corpse on the ground to see what she'd caught. Huh. A squirrel. Well, it was definitely dead, now, which made it dinner. She crunched through her snack, before heading over to the stream to wash it down with some of the cool, clear water.

She'd never realised water had a scent before. Earthy and crisp, but with a hint of apple. Weird. She drank some more, and found it even tasted of apple. Or maybe wolves didn't taste things in the same way humans did? The squirrel had tasted like rare steak, or at least tartare, which was as she'd expect, but the water...perhaps there was an apple orchard upstream, and some of the fruit had fallen into the water? It couldn't have been just one or two apples, though. It'd have to be a decent chunk of the harvest, for her to be able to taste it this far downstream, where there was no sign of an apple tree, let alone a whole orchard. She'd have to ask Wolf Man.

Of course, in order to do that, she'd have to shift back to human form, which she wasn't sure how to do yet. Wolf Man would know. So she took another long drink from the apple stream, before padding back to Wolf Man. She sat down by his feet and looked up expectantly.

"How are you feeling?"

Amazing. Invigorated. Like she'd just eaten a gourmet meal, instead of a whole squirrel, bones, fur and all. Suddenly, travelling to the fae realm was less daunting. She wouldn't need to be as reliant on the hospitality of its people and whatever passed for currency over there. She could easily shift into her wolf form and hunt for sustenance. Not to mention sleep in the woods – with her thick fur, she didn't even feel the Scottish winter chill in the air, which she knew from experience could get the better of most down jackets, including the ones that were rated for snow.

Wolf Man must have had plenty of experience reading wolfish expressions, because he grinned. "Nice to know you're feeling better. Do you think your heart is healed, or do you need a bit longer?"

Arwen tilted her head, considering. Her heart wasn't fluttering like it had been before, but perhaps her wolf form wasn't attracted to Wolf Man the same way her human form had been. As for being out of breath...she took off, racing around the clearing. Once, twice, three times, until she found herself panting, but she felt fine. Not lightheaded at all. She let her tongue loll out of her mouth as she grinned up at Wolf Man.

"All right, then. I imagine hearts are harder to heal that a bunch of bites, though, so you'll probably need dinner and some rest. Are you ready to shift back so we can go inside and heat up dinner?" Wolf Man asked.

Arwen nodded.

"Right. Shifting back is usually easier, because you've spent more time in human form than wolf. I usually try to focus on something I want to do that requires human hands or height or something, and the need to stand up. Can you think of something human you need to do?"

Arwen nodded again. Dinner. A warm meal sounded wonderful. Of course, so did the scrabbling in the undergrowth, where a whole smorgasbord of squirrels were waiting to be devoured...