Page 12 of Her Wolf Protector

"Okay, if you've got it, how about we do it together. I'll shift to wolf, and then on three we can both shift back together, okay?" Wolf Man crouched down.

Arwen took a deep breath as his muzzle came level with hers. He was bigger than her, and darker, too, and his scent...she forgot about the squirrels. Now she wanted to drop down, lift her tail and invite him to mount her. A little whine escaped before she closed her mouth. No, she was not going to beg this wolf to fuck her, no matter how hot he smelled.

His paw thumped the ground. Once, twice, three times.

What was she supposed to be thinking about again? His weight holding her down as he took her hard from behind, biting her neck as they reached their peak...

Wolf Man stood on two legs again, high above, his scent easier to resist in this form. He looked disappointed. "Oh. We can try again if you like. Here, you have to focus your thoughts on something that isn't instinct..."

Once. Twice. Three times he shifted from human to wolf to human again, and each time her desire grew stronger. But try as she might, she stayed a wolf.

Wolf Man sighed. "Oh, well. Maybe it's better if you stay as a wolf, and we can try again in the morning. You can still rest and do dinner, and you'll definitely be healed up by tomorrow. Come inside. You'll be happy to know that in Tarn Cottage, wolves are definitely allowed to sleep on the beds. That's why they're all king sized – including the singles upstairs in the loft. Good thing Sienna gave me enough food for a week – plenty to share. Wait until you try her Scotch eggs, though I think there's a few pork pies in there, too."

Wolf Man led the way inside. Arwen followed her nose.

TEN

When Tate woke up in the watery morning light, she was gone.

His mate was gone.

He dragged himself out of bed, choked down some breakfast, then got dressed for another day of sampling. Yesterday's clothes were too bitten and torn to be worn today, so he tossed them into the old clothes chest where he suspected his mate had found her Spice Girls shirt. Anywhere else, he'd have thrown them out entirely, but at Tarn Cottage, they got a second life with new pack members who had trouble controlling their shifts. Instead of exploding out of all their clothes when they unexpectedly changed from human to wolf or whatever other creature they turned into, they just shredded the pack's castaways. Not even the shredded rags went to waste after that, either – Ylva insisted they collect up the scraps, which she crocheted into rag rugs in the evenings here at the cottage, which she then gifted to the teenagers when they mastered their new abilities and returned home. Shaw had owned a rug like that for a while, if Tate remembered correctly.

Not because Shaw couldn't control his shift, but because when he did shift, he didn't always want to shift back. Ylva had given him the rug so he could curl up on it on his bedroom floor when he wanted. On the nights when Tate's own family had driven him to run away for good, he'd never gotten further than Shaw's floor and that rug.

Tate hadn't seen it in years, but he knew Shaw wouldn't have just thrown it out. Unless...oh, yes, now he remembered. Shaw's sister Carmen had left her hair straightener plugged in when she'd gone on a date, and some tissues on her dressing table had started smouldering, so Shaw had tossed the rug over the whole thing in an effort to stop the fire, but he hadn't turned the straightener off, so the rug caught fire and Tate had thrown open the window and tossed the whole flaming mess outside into the rain.

Only the smell of smoke had lingered, even with the window open, so Carmen's parents had grounded her for smoking, Carmen had pleaded innocence and blamed her brother, before accusing him of stealing her hair straightener, and Tate had seriously considered heading back to his parents' house where it might be quieter, until Shaw's dad had found the burned blanket in the garden and the whole story had come out.

Shaw had lost his rug, Carmen wasn't allowed another straightener as long as she lived at home, and Tate had been invited to join the pack in his own right, though he'd only been sixteen. Tate owed the Wuffingas Pack everything, which was why he'd be headed out to finish the water sampling this morning, instead of searching for his missing mate, like his heart longed to do.

This time, he only took the essentials – the empty sample bottles, a bottle of water, and a basic first aid kit, in case the otters struck again. He left the filled bottles for Couch Creek, Holt Tarn and Bubble Brook in the kitchen, along with the bottles of damp gauze from the otter bites. When he'd taken samples for Fairy Feeder and Circle Creek, he'd come back to do Wolf Tarn, take a break for lunch, then take all the samples back to up his pickup, drive down to Sanctuary Loch for the final samples, and take the lot into town for testing.

Or it would be easy, if his thoughts didn't keep straying toward his mate. He'd hoped to at least be able to share breakfast with her...but she'd crept out of the cottage while he was sleeping. Some enforcer he was. He hadn't even heard her leave.

If he got the samples off for testing early enough, he could come back this afternoon and track her scent...

Tate allowed hope to blossom for a moment, before he crushed it entirely. He'd promised that she could walk away, if she wanted. If he followed her, that would mean he'd lied to his mate. He would not become his father. If his mate wanted nothing to do with him, then that was his fate. At least he'd met her, and they'd spent one night together in the same bed. Sure, all they'd done was sleep, but for that one night, she'd been his and no one else's.

Now, he had samples to take. Tate stepped out of the cottage and took a deep breath. Scottish winters were so cold, the air burned his lungs, and it wasn't even Hogmanay yet. Pity. He would have loved to dance a Hogmanay reel with his mate. But it was not to be.

Something splatted on the ground at his feet. A rabbit, though it looked more like a rag doll than a living, breathing creature. Like someone had broken its neck and shaken it.

Tate's breath caught in his throat. She had. The gorgeous wolf with a black stripe from her ears all the way down her back to the tip of her tail. The rest of her was white and speckled grey, like a snowy owl, and she had the same honey-gold eyes. Eyes that regarded him hopefully as she pushed the rabbit closer to him with her snout.

He wasn't the only one who'd hoped to share breakfast this morning. "I already ate inside. It's all yours," he said.

She gave a sharp nod, snatched the rabbit up in her jaws and crunched it down. Then lapped at Wolf Creek until she'd drunk her fill, while he stood there tongue-tied, just watching her.

She hadn't left. She was still here. But she was also still a wolf.

"Want me to help you turn back to human?" he asked. It would only take a moment, and then he could head up to Circle Creek.

She shook her head, drooping. She'd already tried and failed, he guessed.

"Maybe later, then. I'm going on a hike to take some more water samples. Want to come with me?"

A sharp nod.