

## THE WOLF'S CALL

### Two-Natured London 1

### Susanna Shore

The Wolf's Call. Two-Natured London 1.

Copyright © 2015 A. K. S. Keinänen

All rights reserved.

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

No part of this book may be reproduced, translated, or distributed without permission, except for brief quotations in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, dialogues and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, organisations or persons, living or dead, except those in public domain, is entirely coincidental.

Published by Crimson House Books at Smashwords.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes:

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover © 2018 A. K. S. Keinänen

Editing: Lee Burton, Ocean's Edge Editing

Twitter: @SusannaShore

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# Two-Natured London Series

The Wolf's Call

Warrior's Heart

A Wolf of Her Own

Her Warrior for Eternity

A Warrior for a Wolf

Magic under the Witching Moon

Moonlight, Magic and Mistletoes

Crimson Warrior

Magic on the Highland Moor

### P.I. Tracy Hayes Series

Tracy Hayes, Apprentice P.I.

Tracy Hayes, P.I. and Proud

Tracy Hayes, P.I. to the Rescue

Tracy Hayes, P.I. with the Eye

Tracy Hayes, from P.I. with Love

Tracy Hayes, Tenacious P.I.

### Thrillers

Personal

The Assassin

### Contemporary Romances

At Her Boss's Command

It Happened on a Lie

To Catch a Billionaire Dragon

Which Way to Love?

# Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

About the Author

Warrior's Heart, Excerpt

Also in the Two-Natured London Series

Also by Susanna Shore

# Chapter One

It was surprisingly quiet in the vast open office of Latimer & Holby Solicitors considering that six lawyers were doing their best there to keep the firm at the top of their game. Only the occasional shuffling of papers, clicking of keyboards, and quiet murmur of a low male voice having a phone conversation at the other end of the room broke the silence.

The unobtrusive atmosphere sprang partly out of respect and partly from a clever office design that made a traditional City chamber out of a modern Canary Wharf business hotel. The workstations had enough space between them to make each of them a small island, three on both sides of an aisle that cut through the office from the front door to the back. Freestanding hardwood bookcases and filing cabinets surrounded each islet on three sides; on the fourth, large potted plants covered the view to the aisle.

The only potential source of noise was a huge flat-screen TV mounted on the wall by a sofa group near the door, high enough for everyone to see what was on. Today, a twenty-four-hour BBC news channel broadcasted live from the House of Commons, where a heated debate seemed to be going on. The sound was muted, however, so the exact content was unknown to the people in the office.

Charlotte Thornton, Charly to herself, didn't need to hear the discussion to know what it was about. The debate on whether or not the two-natured races—vampires, shifters, and sentients—were eligible to stand for elections had been going on for days. The same debate sprang up every now and then in the Parliament, usually after some other country took up the issue.

The arguments for and against remained the same too. Vampires and shifters weren't human, so humans couldn't allow them to decide on national issues; however, they were allowed to vote so they should be allowed to stand too. It would be dangerous to let vampires in the Parliament because they could influence humans unfairly with their magic. On the other hand, vampires had influenced politics and politicians for millennia as grey eminences anyway and it was high time they were made to do it openly. Shifters were violent brutes unable to grasp the finer points of politics; yet shifters were perfectly capable of getting PhDs so they could handle politics just fine.

Some clever person had even argued that if vampires and shifters got a say in human matters, humans should get a vote in vampire courts and shifter clans. This was countered with the traditional argument about taxes: the two-natureds paid human taxes so they should get to decide where the money went. Of course, if humans didn't want their money... Since everyone knew vampires were rich beyond imagination, the argument usually died right there.

All six lawyers in the office knew that the debate wouldn't lead to a positive conclusion for the two-natureds this time either—it would be a political suicide for any MP to vote for them—but in deference to their profession they kept the TV on. Who knew, perhaps something new would happen this time round.

Already, one MP had suggested that sentients, a two-natured breed that was almost absent from the UK, should be invited in the Parliament to monitor the other two races, but that had been met with fierce opposition from vampires and shifters alike. They had a living memory of the last time sentients had colluded with humans to control shifters and vampires. It had led to a reign of terror during which sentients ousted what was essentially their own kind for execution. A devastating war between the two-natured people had followed that only ended when vampires banished sentients to the Americas in 1827. To humans that was ancient history and, in their opinion, wounds should have healed by now. But it wasn't so for the long-living two-natureds. So the debate went on.

Charly had stopped paying attention to the debate a while ago. Secretly, she thought that most two-natureds didn't even want to become openly involved with human politics and that they were only arguing for the argument's sake. But she also believed that times had changed and vampires and shifters couldn't hide behind the scenes anymore, as if they didn't exist. In a world of instant information, with a press that tended to dig out every little detail about their leaders, a known association with vampires could topple a politician. It would serve everyone better if things were done openly.

Then again, she didn't really know what those with a second nature thought of the human-ruled world around them. Her father had made sure that she went to an all-human school, joined humans-only clubs in Oxford, and didn't take any courses in two-natured law there or during her pupillage in Lincoln's Inn prior to being called to the Bar. If there had been non-humans around her, she hadn't been privy to it, let alone to their way of thinking.

Her father's meddling hadn't ended there. He had recently made the chambers in which she had been practicing terminate her tenancy when he learned that the QC there allowed them to take cases that involved non-humans. She still didn't know how Wilfred Thornton had managed to pull that off, but it infuriated her to no end.

In an act of defiance, only one of many during her thirty-two-years' war with her father, she hadn't accepted the position he had arranged for her as a lawyer in one of the bigger banking firms in the City, but had chosen Latimer & Holby Solicitors instead. It lacked the excitement of criminal law, but at least she was fairly sure her father had no influence here—for the moment anyway—so she was trying to enjoy it for as long as she could.

The only reason her father hadn't interfered yet was because her new employer didn't have any known associations with the two-natureds. How he could always tell, she had no idea, because the one-natureds had no means for detecting those with the second nature around them.

She sensed someone pause by her desk. Annoyed for the interruption, she looked up from a complicated contract she had been perusing the whole morning to see her boss. She was on a tight schedule so she hoped Mr Latimer, a stocky and autocratic man in his early sixties, would state his business quickly.

Then his aftershave hit her senses and a sharp pain stabbed her behind the eyes, a prelude to one of her migraines. She was oversensitive to scents, something she had suffered from all her life, to her mother Great's great displeasure, because it had prevented Greta Thornton from wearing her favourite perfume while Charly still lived at home.

She had only been with the firm for a month, so her colleagues hadn't got used to her requirements yet, and the onslaught of various scents hit her every morning when she came to work. It had forced her to adopt a schedule where she arrived before everyone else and was the last to leave at the end of the day, the idea being that the air-conditioning would clear the air before she had to walk through the office again. For a further measure, she had a small air-cleanser by her desk that kept her immediate workspace scent-free.

Struggling to contain the growing pain, it took her a moment to understand what Mr Latimer was saying to her. "There's a new client coming over in ten minutes and I need you to make us some coffee."

If ever a mere sentence could end a budding migraine, this one was it. "I'm sorry, what?" She might be the newest lawyer with the firm, but she wasn't a pupil. She didn't take photocopies for others, run errands, or make coffee on command.

"You heard me. Mrs Jones is at a dentist's and there is no one else. So hurry up, there's a good girl."

She looked around the vast office the six younger lawyers shared. Even if she hadn't already known they were all present, she was able to see with one glance that she wasn't the only person in the room. Then the last word Mr Latimer had used registered and she knew the difference between herself and the other five lawyers. She was a girl as opposed to men, judging by his patronizing tone.

Her always-ready temper flared. She would have none of that. All her life she had struggled against her father's old-fashioned ideas about women and their place in society, and as her life as a working woman—instead of a housewife her father wanted her to be—testified, she had won. Mr Latimer, while undoubtedly formidable, had nothing on her father as an opponent. He would learn personally why he had hired her in the first place.

She straightened her spine, glad that she was closer to six feet tall and that her mother had insisted on modelling classes when she was a teenager, thus ensuring that she was never ashamed of her height. Sitting down, she cut a commanding presence; standing up, she was hard to dismiss, something she used to her full advantage in courtrooms.

"No," she said calmly, looking at him squarely. Inside, she was far from composed. She had a quick and furious temper that had manifested in uncontrollable rages when she was a child, but she had been taught to control herself to an extent that outwardly no one would be able to tell how angry she truly was. By now, the techniques she employed were automatic and she was able to concentrate on her boss's reaction.

The grey bushes Mr Latimer had for eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?" His affronted expression was a poor imitation of that of her father's and she had no trouble facing him. She just cocked a brow of her own, black and well groomed.

"I'm busy. Ask someone else to make it."

Her boss was genuinely taken aback, as if it hadn't even occurred to him that she might refuse. "But it'll only take five minutes."

"Then you'll have time to make it yourself."

She would not back down. She was the only woman in the office apart from Mrs Jones, the secretary. If she didn't stand her ground she would be reduced to being a woman instead of an equal, let alone the superior she one day intended to be. She had experienced this before; luckily, she had backbone to deal with it. She waited for her boss's reaction, and wasn't disappointed.

"I'm ordering you to make the coffee, Miss Thornton."

"I'm afraid you can't do that, sir." She kept her tone dry and official. "You can only ask politely and then turn to someone else after I tell you I haven't got time for a task unrelated to my job description." She nodded towards her colleagues.

"But they're..." he paused, realising the slippery slope he was on. But she wasn't about to let him off easy.

"They're what, sir?" This time she let some of the steel inside her come through in her voice.

"Busy too," he finished feebly.

She glanced at the men who were all suddenly trying to pretend they hadn't been listening to the argument with great interest. This wouldn't make her popular with them, but she was used to that too. Men didn't like women who were stronger-willed than them and who weren't afraid to show it. That she had a stronger will than these men, they had established already during her first two weeks with the firm, much to the men's dismay.

She didn't care. She had strength in abundance. It had put her through the Lincoln's Inn when her father had refused to give her a place in the family firm after she'd finished her studies in Oxford. It may have wreaked havoc on her love life that she refused to submit to a man's will simply by virtue of his gender, but one thing was certain: being only a woman would not be part of her repertoire. That included being asked to make coffee simply because she was the only person around with breasts.

"Oh, well. I guess you'll have to make the coffee yourself after all." She shrugged, as if it wasn't such a big deal.

"I am not here for making coffee," Mr Latimer practically growled, but she wasn't impressed. She looked him straight in the eyes, letting him see her resolve.

"Neither am I, sir."

Understanding flashed in his eyes, but he wouldn't just give up and she actually respected him for it. "What would it take to get you make the coffee here?"

She had an answer ready. "Thousand pounds more a month and a contract where it states that making coffee is part of my responsibilities."

Mr Latimer practically spurted in surprise. "Thousand pounds a month for making coffee?"

Charly smiled slowly. It was time for the coup _de grâce_. "No. I'll make coffee for free. You pay five hundred pounds for assigning me a demeaning menial task even though I'm the best-educated and most experienced younger lawyer here. The rest is compensation for being forced to submit to out-dated gender stereotypes."

Mr Latimer blinked a couple of times. Then his anger rose. "I could fire you."

"And face the lawsuit that would follow?" She held her gaze steady. She was not afraid of being fired. She thrived on challenges like this. If she was given smaller clients for a while as punishment, it would only leave her with more time on her hands to set things straight around here.

Mr Latimer must have noticed the excited gleam in her eyes, because he harrumphed in anger and turned to the man across the aisle to her. "Mr Brooke. You make the coffee then, and be quick about it. Don't think I didn't notice the solitaire you hid when you saw me coming." Gary Brooke shot up to fulfil the command and Mr Latimer disappeared into his office.

She stretched, satisfied. This new job might not be as exciting as being a barrister had been, but for the first time since starting, she'd had a chance to stretch her metaphysical claws. She needed a good battle every now and then or she became impossible to be around.

She took a deep breath and a new scent hit her senses, overriding the aftershaves the room was saturated with. Pure wilderness invaded her entire being, as if the scent had a physical presence. It was intriguing, commanding, and sexy as hell. For the first time ever the scent didn't trigger a headache. Instead, an entirely different physical reaction swept over her, no less overwhelming in its pervasiveness. She got thoroughly aroused.

# Chapter Two

Raphael Green let his body sag heavily against the wall outside the door to Latimer & Holby Solicitors, his legs unable to support his weight anymore. He had been about to enter the premises of his would-be lawyers when he had overheard the battle of wills between Mr Latimer—judging by his voice—and _her_.

An emotion unlike anything he had felt before had taken control of his body from the first sound of her voice. He had simply frozen, just standing there holding the door-handle, unable to push the door properly open or let it close, mesmerised by her voice, impressed by her strength of will. With her voice gone, so was his bodily strength, as if drained by her. His listless hand fell from the handle and the door closed. It didn't matter. He needed a moment to recover anyway.

When was the last time he'd had such a strong physical reaction to anything? His heart was beating erratically and his breathing was laboured, as if he had run up to the fifteenth floor instead of taking the lift. Hell, a marathon wouldn't have left him this shaky. His clothes felt stifling all of a sudden and he pulled the tie off so that he could breathe. He had gone rock hard too, adding to his acute discomfort. It was as if he had been through a battle.

One thing was sure. He had to have her, and he didn't mean as his lawyer. He needed to have her in his bed so that he could bury himself deep into her until that beautiful low voice like molten chocolate moaned his name in ecstasy. The image made his cock jerk and he inhaled slowly to gain control of himself. The need to see her was pulling him forward with an irresistible force of a locomotive before a freight train, but he was old enough not to let his instincts rule him.

This wasn't the first time a woman had excited him during his hundred and thirty-four years, but for the first time he was aroused by a woman he hadn't even seen. It was also a first that he was drawn to a woman so dominant. He tended to go after docile, submissive creatures that were fun for a while and then didn't bother him after he was done with them.

Yet it was undoubtedly her strength that had got him so worked up. A dominant female with a strong alpha streak, who could have thought he would find one here? There were some dominant shifter women, but not all of them had the alpha quality that could raise them to clan leaders over physically stronger males.

To win such a female, a male had to be truly worthy. And it was the notion of being worthy of her that had him so excited. It was a challenge.

Please, gods, let her be a wolf.

Rafe had seldom uttered a prayer more sincere to the twin deities governing the spiritual wellbeing of the two-natured people. Another predatory shifter would do as well, but a wolf would be perfect.

Then he shook himself. He couldn't stand outside the door all day, dreaming about her. But he couldn't go to his meeting with Mr Latimer sporting a raging hard-on either, and so he forced his body under control with the ease of a truly strong alpha shifter. Only, he couldn't control his heart, and it raced in anticipation as he pushed the door open and entered the office. He was sure she heard it, but he didn't care. She should know he intended to have her. That was part of the chase too, the anticipation.

The office didn't match the image he had got from the outside. The firm was located at the London's newer business district of Canary Wharf, so he had expected chrome and glass and the energetic atmosphere of making money fast. Instead, it more resembled the traditional chambers around the Inns of Court, its décor like a copy of the firm he had dealt with since 1910. The family-run firm had recently ended its operations when there had been no one to continue it, putting him on the market for a new solicitor. The hardwood and antique leather furniture, heavy drapes, and oriental carpets with which the vast office was decorated represented the unhurried excellence to which he was accustomed.

As he made his way along the aisle towards the back of the room, he took in the six groups of desks with their occupants, seeking the one he wanted. Air-conditioning was working against him so he couldn't get a scent, but as five desks were occupied by men, his task was easy. His eyes shot to her and met a gaze exactly as strong as he had hoped.

To his utter relief, she was a gorgeous young woman. He had been half afraid that she was an older matron, her strength of will accumulated over a lifetime, but she looked about his age—the age he seemed to be anyway, somewhere between thirty and thirty-five.

He could tell by the long stretch of stocking-clad legs neatly folded under her chair that she was tall, but that she wasn't ashamed of her height, judging by the way she held herself straight even when sitting down, and by the three inch heels of her black shoes. Standing in them, she would be close to his six foot five. He usually dated short women, but now he couldn't understand why. Of course his woman would be tall.

Suddenly, an image of the two of them stretched naked on a bed flashed in his mind. He would be able to kiss her and thrust into her at the same time. The fantasy was incredibly vivid, transporting him to another place. He could practically smell the scents of their lovemaking and from a half a floor away he saw her nostrils flare too.

She clearly had the scent of his arousal. Good. Her nipples were growing hard in response, pressing against the fabric of her expensive white blouse. The blouse was deceptively modestly cut, but it couldn't hide the shape of her nicely-rounded breasts that would more than fill his large hands.

The only thing missing from her perfect chest was the aura of her beast. The translucent, full-colour 3D image of her animal protruding out of her like a figurehead of a ship would have allowed him to see what kind of a shifter she was from afar, but he wasn't surprised by its absence. He had hidden his wolf too, as it tended to dominate everyone. Moreover, this wasn't his clan territory, so the locals would take it as a sign of aggression.

However, judging by the onslaught of aftershaves that was clogging his delicate scent receptors, everyone else in the office was human, so hiding the aura was unnecessary. No one here would know. Besides it was illegal to discriminate against those with second natures; in theory anyway. But sometimes the aura's independent observations were distracting when one needed to concentrate, so perhaps she had asked it to retreat.

It didn't matter. Only a couple of steps and he would be close enough to have her scent, unhindered by the artificial scents and ventilation. She simply had to be a wolf. It would be a crime if a woman so gorgeous were, say, a panther, like her dark colours suggested.

There was something feline about her though. For a woman so tall she was delicately built, and very feminine, with only enough muscle tone to prevent her from looking gangly. Sometimes taller women seemed to lose their curves, which was why he preferred the short ones. Her features were finely sculpted with refined cheekbones and a stubborn jaw, a straight nose, and arching black brows over dark brown eyes. Her cherry-lipped mouth was, in a word, generous. To top it all, she had a long black hair she had tied neatly in a bun at the back of her head. He yearned to see it flowing free.

Then he was within range of her scent and he drew it in deep, filling himself with it. She wasn't wearing any perfume—no shifter would—so he got a lungful of pure her. Her scent was strong yet delicate like he had known it would be, with a heady mix of fresh, citrusy scents adding sweetness and sharpness to it. And she was...

Human.

His disappointment was so profound he couldn't comprehend what his senses were telling him. Almost disgusted with her now for causing him such a blow, he walked past her desk, barely giving her a second glance in his stupor.

Mr Latimer, he presumed, as he was unable to pay attention, came to meet him and he shook his hand mechanically before following him to his office. Only one thing filled his mind. She could not be human. Gods could not be that cruel.

# Chapter Three

One by one, the lawyers returned to their tasks after having paused to watch _the_ man cross the room. All but Charly. She was sitting perfectly still, hoping that no one would notice how strongly she had been affected by him. She was feigning calm, but she was squeezing the edge of her desk so hard her knuckles were standing out in white relief.

She hadn't lost control of her body so completely since childhood, when her rages had made her disregard her physical safety. Yet with his mere scent that man had managed to override all her careful restraints, releasing sensations she wasn't ready to feel. Couldn't afford to feel. A bone-melting arousal had glued her to her chair and she could only helplessly watch him cross the room with a confident stride, his scent growing stronger and more compelling as he drew closer.

She had known she was sensitive to scents, but never in her life had she been attracted to a man based on how he smelled. She more tended to be repelled by the fashionable products men used that had all her girlfriends in a swoon. And the oddest thing was, he wasn't using any artificial scent. Her arousal was triggered by something that was essentially him. How she was able to tell the difference, she had no idea.

She turned the air-cleanser to full blast with the hopes that it would banish any lingering remnants of him, holding her breath to prevent his scent from overtaking her body again. But then she remembered what he looked like. She inhaled sharply for the memory and almost whimpered when a jolt of arousal shot through her again. She had seen handsome men before, but something about him just spoke to her.

He had been a picture of a powerful and self-confident man. He was extremely tall, around six foot four or five, but he carried himself well; a man comfortable with his height. His body was visibly strong, but he wasn't brawny or overly bulgy. Rather, his trimmed torso indicated stamina instead of empty muscles acquired by pumping iron. The buttons of his well-cut suit jacket had been open, hinting of washboard abs, as his broad shoulders narrowed to a waist that didn't show an ounce of extra weight. Then there had been his long legs, their strength obvious in jeans he had worn in deference to custom. But they had suited him perfectly. A suit represented tame and institutionalised power. His was wilder, raw power that shouldn't be restrained by propriety.

His face had untamed savageness about it too. It was strong and chiselled with a firm-lipped mouth set in determined lines, and a slightly aquiline nose with wide nostrils; an arrogant nose for a fierce face. His eyebrows were straight and sandy, and his deep blue eyes had been sharp as he'd studied the office as if scanning it for dangers. His complexion was slightly tanned, contrasting with his eyebrows and sun-kissed dark blond hair, giving her a notion that he spent a lot of time outdoors. The thick hair was a bit overgrown and tousled as if he had recently battled with wind or had only run his fingers through it upon waking.

Watching him approach, she had imagined him lying in bed just after waking up and another jolt of arousal had shot through her. His eyes would be drowsy, his hair even bigger a mess, and his chest would be bare and hopefully dusted with light hair.

Just at that moment, he had looked directly at her. More, he had known exactly how he affected her, judging by the smug quirk of his upper lip. Not a great surprise there. Men like him aroused women wherever they went and they knew it.

And then ... he had simply walked past her as if she were air.

The shock of it had jolted her to her senses. She was just one of many swooning women on his path and didn't even merit a second look. But the impact of him was so enduring that for once she wasn't strong enough to control her body. That brought on a genuine fear that if she failed now, she wouldn't be able to control herself the next time she got angry. So she set out to go through every technique in her repertoire, from meditation to mind games, in order to become her own master again.

It spoke volumes of how he had affected her that it took almost a half an hour before she was calm again and able to concentrate on her work. The loss of time aggravated her. She had to finish her case by the end of the week and it was Thursday already. She couldn't afford to let her mind wander.

And then Mr Latimer returned. "Miss Thornton, could you come to the meeting room, please. Mr Green would like to speak with you."

There went her equilibrium. Controlling herself with an effort, she got up to only slightly shaking legs, her heart pumping wildly. She spent a moment straightening her pencil skirt, wishing she had worn something less form-fitting. Then she put on the suit jacket she had wrapped over the back of her chair and headed to the meeting room.

Gary shot her a mischievous smile when she passed his desk. "I bet you wish you'd made the coffee yourself now."

His words stunned her. Not because they were an indication of a gender stereotype, but because they were true. She would have loved to make coffee for that man. What was wrong with her?

Mr Latimer was holding the door to the meeting room open for her and she took courage from him. With his grumpy presence, she would be able to go through the meeting without embarrassing herself. But then the door closed behind her and she realised to her horror that Mr Latimer hadn't followed. She was alone with that man.

The half an hour interview with Mr Latimer had given Raphael enough time to get over the worst of his disappointment. He didn't even know why he had reacted so strongly to her being a human. In general, he didn't date humans if he could avoid it; they were so fragile and he had to hide what he was from most of them so that he wouldn't offend their delicate sentiments. Then there were the human women who wanted to date him only because he was a shifter, which he found even worse. He had had enough of parties where he was exhibited like a curiosity item to his date's friends, or family gatherings where he was used as a weapon to hurt parents' feelings.

And that was only the casual dating. Mainly, he wouldn't date humans because there couldn't be a lifelong commitment between them. In the best-case scenario the relationship would last as long as the human's pitifully short lifespan, leaving the shifter to mourn the loss of a partner for who knew how long. In the worst case, things went the way they had for his brother. That, if anything, served as a warning against committing to a human. It was best to leave them alone.

Then he remembered how she looked and especially how strong she was, and he got excited again. He might give her a try anyway. Therefore, when Mr Latimer asked if he preferred to choose his solicitor himself, Rafe implied he wanted someone like her without asking for her directly. He had a feeling Mr Latimer wouldn't react favourably if he had.

"As you know, our firm is on the lookout for a long-term partnership. However, for this one I'd like someone with the spirit and tenacity of a pit bull terrier." He'd wanted to say 'with a spirit of a wolf', but the poetry of that would have been lost on Mr Latimer who had no idea he was dealing with a shifter. With the debates that were going on in the Commons, it would be unwise to stir that particular pond.

To his delight, Mr Latimer immediately suggested Miss Charlotte Thornton for him. There was such a smug look on his face though, that Rafe suspected he only did it to add to her already heavy workload to get even with her for their battle of wills. Rafe didn't care. Her mere name stirred him.

"That is, if you don't mind working with a woman," Mr Latimer then added, plunging Rafe's estimation of him even lower. If it hadn't been for her, he might have ended the talks then and there and looked elsewhere for his representation. "Miss Thornton is a barrister too, and she is used to winning her cases. She'll put her whole attention to solving your problem, I'll guarantee that."

Rafe just bet he would. He hid his annoyance and simply nodded. "Then she's exactly who I need."

He requested a private meeting with her, and although Mr Latimer wondered about it, he didn't want to alienate a possible long-term client. He just escorted Rafe to a small meeting room across the hall to wait for Miss Thornton.

Left to his thoughts, the anticipation of seeing her again made the small room feel caging, and he began to pace it, unable to settle down. He was a tame wolf, well used to modern housing, but he preferred rooms that were a bit more spacious than one large enough only for a table for eight. Even the view from the window was cut by a high-rise across the canal, the stretch between so narrow that he could see the faces of the people in the office opposite. If his business hadn't required privacy, he would have suggested that they talked by her desk. There would have been space there.

Moreover, he couldn't wait to be alone with her. His excitement baffled him, considering that he didn't like human women, and that she was hardly the first woman he had tried to pursue. But this time there was a difference to his chase. For the first time his wolf was showing interest in the woman too, pacing within him, wanting to be let out so that it could get a proper scent of her. It hadn't accepted yet that their quarry wasn't a shifter.

After what felt like an eternity but was less than five minutes, the door opened and she came in. Rafe paused in mid-stride and turned to face her. His brain ceased to function for a painful moment as all his blood flowed downwards, tightening his trousers again, indicating that his body hadn't accepted reality either.

She was magnificent standing up, her posture straight and her well-formed calves showing to their advantage in a knee-length skirt that hugged her curvy hips. She paused at the door as if offering him a chance to look his fill, and he obliged. He ran his eyes slowly upwards, not wanting to spoil the moment by being hasty.

She had put on a form-fitting jacket that was probably meant to make her look professional, but as it was cut to bring out her narrow waist and emphasise her breasts, its effect on him was something quite else. Her face, once his eyes reached there, was as beautiful as he remembered, and slightly flushed for his slow study, as if she wasn't used to being admired by men.

He wondered about it, but then again, human men, especially Englishmen of her class, weren't known for openly showing appreciation for women of their species. He couldn't understand such reticence. Shifters were creatures of emotions and instinct. When a shifter man was drawn to a woman, she knew it. And Charlotte was starting to know it too. Her heart was beating fast, making a pulse throb wildly at the base of her throat. He longed to sink his teeth into it and mark the slender white column so that everyone would know she belonged to him.

He closed the small distance separating them in a stride or two, noticing that her femininity became more pronounced next to his much larger body. She stiffened, but she didn't retreat. She simply drew herself straighter and met his eyes calmly when he paused in front of her. He kept their gazes locked as he leaned towards her, and she tensed. Stifling a smile, he reached around her and closed the door Mr Latimer had left slightly ajar. She startled at the sound it made when it hit home.

Nervous, are we?

"There. Now we can be more comfortable," he said, watching, fascinated, how she struggled to appear cold and unaffected by him. He wanted to prop his hands against the door, close her between them, and pin her down with his body simply to see her flush again.

But some civilised part in him made him gesture towards the table instead. "Shall we?"

For further measure, he walked to the table and held a chair for her. After only a brief hesitation, she walked to him, her hips swinging enticingly, and sat down. He got a good whiff of her scent again and she was still human. It didn't matter to his body.

He took a seat at the end of the table, diagonally to her, setting the chair sideways so that he could face her. He rested his forearm on the desk and stretched his legs before him. Long as they were, they reached all the way to her chair, right up to her legs. He wanted to lean his legs against hers, but resisted. "I'm Raphael Green, but please call me Rafe."

She frowned. "I'm afraid that is not very professional." Her velvety voice had the same effect on his body as earlier, adding to his arousal. This promised to be a very painful conversation for him. "You'll just have to deal with being called Mr Green."

Her refusal delighted him, even though he didn't generally hold to such formalities. "May I at least call you by your given name?"

She gave him a slow look. "No."

He grinned, he couldn't help it, and to his satisfaction her mouth quirked into a brief smile too. He knew her stiffness was only surface deep. He liked her name, but he needed to give her one that only the two of them would use, so he nodded.

"Very well, we'll be professional then. Here's the deal. My family owns a fairly large development firm that operates mainly in the greater London area. For a couple of years now, we've been buying land in one of the villages south of M25, which we believe will be the next Epsom in popularity for London commuters. The plan is to build an exclusive community of more-expensive cottages. These plans are never popular with locals, however, so we've been buying in secret." He paused and she nodded, indicating that she had been listening, even though her gaze kept dropping to his chest.

Stifling a satisfied smile, he shifted in his chair as if seeking a better position to sit in, offering her a better view. He didn't mind her looking at his chest. For further measure, he let his wolf peek out too. The aura stretched well out of him towards her, studying her with its better sense of smell. It agreed that she was human, but that didn't seem to deter it one bit.

Charlotte didn't react to the wolf at all. She couldn't see the aura. Humans couldn't, which in general made living side by side with them a great deal easier, because they could pretend everyone was human. If it bothered the one-natureds that generation after generation dealt with the same client, or that a CEO of a vampire-owned company stayed the same for a hundred and fifty years without growing older, they didn't let it show. But now he couldn't help being disappointed. He wanted her to see his wolf, and his beast wanted to be seen too.

"Someone found out about it though," he continued, not letting his upset show. "It could be a coincidence, but I think it's deliberate."

"What is?" she asked, lifting her beautiful brown eyes to meet his. Her gaze didn't waver at all, although humans tended to react to the alpha in him by lowering their eyes pretty fast. His wolf definitely expected it as its due and upped their presence. But she gritted her teeth when the impact of him hit her, and refused to submit.

He was pleased by her show of strength. "Someone sold us a piece of land that wasn't theirs to sell and then disappeared. We've got a long list of previous owners for the land, all of them fake."

"Have you gone to the police?"

"No, and we'd rather not. We don't want to draw any attention to our project until we've purchased all the land we need."

"So you want me to do what?" She straightened in her chair, perfectly professional now, his chest forgotten. He felt ridiculously upset for it.

"We want you to find out who sold us the land and also who actually owns it. We've been unable to do either with the means we have."

She nodded. "I've got an access to official records. Also, I've got contacts that I can use."

He was intrigued. "What sort of contacts?"

She gave him a sly smile that he took as a challenge, his blood heating all the way down. "Secret contacts."

He flashed a wolfish grin and, in a fluid move, got up from his chair to sit on the corner of the table. He was on a higher ground now and she had to lift her face to keep looking at him, which pleased his wolf. "Tell me more," he urged with a smile, leaning towards her, but she wouldn't budge.

"Are you trying to intimidate me, Mr Green?" she asked calmly, refusing to lean back.

"Call me Rafe." But she just stared at him quietly, her arched brow challenging him to answer her question. It agitated his wolf, but he was so aroused he could barely breathe. He had never met a woman like her. "Yes, I am," he answered, his every word deliberate. He pressed his hands on the armrests of her chair and leaned closer to her face, never breaking the eye contact. "Is it working?" Closing in the short distance, he kissed her.

# Chapter Four

For a long, delicious heartbeat, Charly forgot how to breathe. She forgot how to think too. She could only feel, and the only thing she felt was the firm mouth of the sexiest man she had ever met against hers, softly urging her to deepen the kiss. With a sigh, she complied and leaned into his kiss, opening her mouth for him to explore.

His tongue dipped into her mouth. The sensations it evoked ignited her entire body, snatching it violently out of her control. It was such a shock that she returned instantly to her senses. She broke the kiss with a small shriek she was instantly ashamed of, and stumbled backwards in her chair. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded. She wanted to get up and put some distance between them, but his hands were still holding the armrests and she knew there was absolutely no breaking their hold until he allowed it.

"Kissing you," he answered simply and leaned back in.

She would not have it. He was all too easily able to override her restraints and she knew what would happen if she lost them completely. Not to mention what would happen if someone came in and saw them kissing. Right after the fight with her boss, it would get her fired. Furious now, as much for his behaviour as for her easy assent to it, she was determined not to let him compromise her standing with the firm.

Her self-control already weakened, she wasn't surprised when her anger manifested physically, something that hadn't happened in ages. Unable to prevent it, her upper lip curled as if in a snarl, baring her teeth, and she growled, the sound guttural but perfectly human.

She knew her feral expression twisted her face to something so ugly it made normal men back down, if only in disgust, and the humiliation of it finally curbed her anger. Breathing hard for the effort of seizing back control of her body, she stared at Mr Green defiantly. Let him deal with that.

But he didn't back off or look disgusted even. He looked positively intrigued. He leaned closer again, braving her anger and her teeth, and took a long, deep breath. Then he closed his eyes, as if savouring her scent.

When he opened them again, he shook his head, a curious look in his eyes. He pulled back, but kept looming over her on the edge of the table, studying her. Annoyed that it more aroused than angered her to have his huge body crowding her, she sat straighter.

He smiled and leaned back, finally giving her some room to breathe. "Well now, Charlotte," he said, as if nothing had happened. "I know you are the perfect person to solve my problem."

Still shaken, she wanted to tell him she would do nothing for him, but she held her tongue. Mr Latimer couldn't fire her for not making coffee, but if she said no to Mr Green, he might use it as an excuse. So she just nodded. "I am." She could only hope she didn't live to regret it.

The air-conditioning switched off at nine-thirty, plunging the office into eerie silence with the absence of its steady humming. Roused by the change in her surroundings, Charly straightened her back, groaning when the muscles there protested their new position. She spent a moment stretching her stiffened neck and then she looked around. She was the only person left, the still-mute TV her sole company.

The debates in the Commons had ended ages ago, but the protesters remained in place. They were gathered as close to the Palace of Westminster as they were allowed, keeping up the pressure for the voting the next day. There were only humans protesting against the two-natureds. Either those who had the most to gain from the vote didn't care enough to put pressure on the MPs or they had other means for lobbying. She suspected the latter. But despite the wealth and influence of the vampires and the shifter clans, the vote would go against them. It always did.

That wasn't her problem though. Hers was an overactive libido that threatened her self-control. She had been unable to put Raphael Green out of her mind ever since she'd returned to her desk after seeing him out of the office at the end of their meeting. At least the rest of it had gone smoothly and without breaches of personal boundaries. Then she had spent the afternoon fantasising about him instead of actually working, until she had forced herself to concentrate with sheer willpower. She had lost so much time however, that she was still in the office hours after everyone else had gone home, trying to catch up with her work.

Well, it wasn't like she had someone waiting for her at home, she thought a little wistfully—and then jolted with shock when she remembered that tonight it wasn't true.

_Bob_.

She sprang into action. She had promised to look after her brother's dog while he was in New York for a week. She and her four-years-older brother had never been very close; Jack had been brought up to be their father's successor in the family firm and he was too much like their father for her to respect him. But he couldn't be all bad if he had a dog like Bob, a drooling mass of fur that ate everything he found. The dog had made them spend more time together.

She hurried out, pausing only to lock the office for the night before heading to the lift. It would be a long ride to the other side of London to Mayfair where her brother lived in a luxury flat near Hyde Park. Bob wasn't fussy about walks, but if it got bored there was no telling what it would do to pass time. She hoped it was nothing messy this time round that would take a long time to clean up.

Perhaps she had best spend the night at Jack's. It would be late no matter what Bob had or hadn't done before he was properly walked and fed, so it would be more convenient. No point in heading to her own home in the dead of the night for a couple hours of sleep. She kept clothes in her brother's spare bedroom for impromptu stays, and since his housekeeper stocked the fridge whether he was home or not, there would be food as well.

She thought of her own small flat and its empty cupboards she had been too busy to refill, again, and had to stifle a pang of envy for everything Jack had been given simply for being a boy. He had held good positions in the family firm even before graduating, and at thirty-six, he was already running the show, their father having had to retire after succumbing to a stroke. But father's dictates continued to hold sway, especially the one about women and their place in society, and since she refused to condone, she had to make her own way.

And made it she had, she thought with pride, even if it meant she had no time for grocery shopping.

It was dark when she got out, but the business district never completely closed for the night and her path to the tube station was well lit and surprisingly busy. She ascended to the platform—the underground an over-ground here—and boarded the tube with other late-nighters, her mind occupied with the same thing it had been the whole day: Rafe and the kiss.

She could still taste him, and she remembered how his mouth had felt against hers, deliciously demanding. His chin had felt slightly raspy against her skin, as if he hadn't shaved that morning. It had only aroused her more, contrary to all her previous experiences with men. She didn't date very often, she was too busy and too afraid of ceding control of her body, but all her partners had been sophisticated and definitely well-groomed. And none of them had made her lose herself so completely with a mere kiss.

Her body energised by the memory, she walked the short distance from the Marble Arch station to Jack's building in record time. Every time she entered the grand lobby, its marble floor, high ceiling, and brass detailing made her pause and admire the craftsmanship of a hundred years ago. She waved to Jim, who was in security duty, as she went past the front desk. The highly exclusive building employed ex-military and trained bodyguards to keep its residents safe, and he looked every bit like an ex-soldier with his tall, lean body and clean-shaven head, his demeanour alert even though nothing was happening.

"Bob's been getting anxious," he said, smiling at her, and she forgot all about Rafe and his kiss. Sometimes Bob howled forlornly if it was left alone for too long, annoying the neighbours.

"Thanks, Jim," she said, hurrying to the lift to get to the sixth floor.

The greeting she got the moment she opened the door to Jack's flat was enthusiastic. Whenever she wondered about Jack's decision to keep a Newfoundland, she only needed to remember how happy Bob always was to see her. It was nice to have someone waiting for you at home. Even if the said someone got slobber all over her second best suit.

"Calm down, Bob," she commanded the drooling mass of joy with her most assertive voice. Bob knew which one of them was the boss, but it still took a while before the dog got over his excitement and let her cross the combined living room and dining area—a vast space of sleek modern furniture and neutral colours—to Jack's spare bedroom he used as his office when he worked at home. It had a bed she could use—though she was probably the only person ever to use it—and the closet held some of her clothing. She needed to change into something more suitable for a late-night walk in early October. There wasn't much to choose from, but since the clothes she had left there were meant for walking the dog, she had what she needed. Soon she had put on a pair of jeans, a cashmere jumper, and knee-high riding boots. To ward off the wind that had picked up, she donned a trench-coat too.

"Come on then," she said to Bob, putting him on his leash. "It's late, so we have to be quick about it."

Down in the lobby, Jim halted her. "Are you sure you want to go out there alone at this hour, Miss Charlotte?" he asked sternly, too polite to forbid her outright. "If you wait a moment, I'll have one of the boys to escort you." Bodyguard services were part of the building's exclusive image, and as Jack's sister she apparently merited them too.

But she didn't feel like having someone trail behind her. "Thanks, but I won't need anyone. I'll be back well before midnight." Even humans knew that when Hyde Park closed for the night, shifters claimed it. And humans were not welcome among shifters when they were in their animal form.

Jim gave her a look that had probably made recruits quake in their boots when he was in the service, but after the strength of Rafe's gaze, it fell flat for her. "It's not the furry-ones I'm worried about," he said, reaching for the phone. "Tensions have been running high the whole day because of the debates, and some of the protesters are gathering in the park in order to march against shifters. You don't want to get mixed with them."

She hadn't known about it, but she held her ground. "I'll be all right. I have Bob with me," she quipped, making Jim smile. They both knew that Bob's greatest weapon was his amazing ability to drool, but at least Jim let the matter be. He probably hoped that since shifters weren't known to keep pets, the protesters would know her for a human. For her part, she was armed with a pepper spray and her long legs. She could outrun any assailant.

Once in the park, she was relieved to notice that if there were protesters around, they weren't anywhere near their usual round. Bob was in no hurry, and so it took them the better part of an hour to complete their walk, which brought them perilously close to midnight after all. Walking at a leisurely pace, Bob went about sniffing every bush and barking at every night bird and squirrel that got in his path.

That was how he usually behaved, so she didn't immediately react when Bob paused again as they neared their gate, staring intently at a bush bathed in darkness, unusual tension stiffening his body, his tail held low. _Danger_.

Perhaps it hadn't been such a great idea to come to the park alone after all, she thought, her heartbeat accelerating. She dug out the pepper spray, hoping that it was only someone wanting to expose himself and not a mugger. But she wouldn't count on it. So she fished out her mobile phone with her other hand, ready to hit the speed dial to Jim's desk if she was attacked. Security would be there in no time.

The next sensible thing to do was to beat a hasty retreat. She took a firmer hold of Bob's leash and tugged it, but Bob wouldn't budge. He just stared into the darkness, growling. The sound was so surprising coming from the affable dog that she got truly scared. Bob wouldn't growl at a mere human. But he might growl at a shifter in animal form. Her stomach dropped in fear.

She didn't wait to see if she was right. Taking a good hold of Bob's collar, she began to drag the heavy dog towards the gate. She didn't know if shifters reacted the way most predators did to a fleeing prey, so she took slow steps, keeping her face directed towards the bush. Once it was out of sight, she began to run, and Bob followed her at a surprising pace.

They reached Jack's building in no time and she paused at its corner to catch her breath so she could make a dignified entry. But when she tried to make Bob move on, he had frozen again, this time staring down a maintenance alley that ran towards the back of the building. It was well lit and monitored with CCTV cameras, but she wasn't stupid enough to enter it. She couldn't resist taking a look herself, however, and what she saw made her freeze too.

A wolf-shifter.

She had no doubt that the form standing in the middle of the alley was a shifter. It didn't look purely like a wolf. It was larger and much more muscular than a wolf, kind of how a Rottweiler was bulkier than a Greyhound. It had something of a male lion about it even, in the sturdy strength of its powerful build. Yet it was graceful. In the artificial orange light of the alley, she couldn't tell the colour of its thick fur, only that it was something light.

She stood staring at the wolf-shifter, transfixed. She knew she should be terrified, but instead she felt elated and exhilarated. She felt as if her soul had grown wings simply for seeing such a magnificent beast. Moreover, the creature wasn't hostile. It shot them a disgusted look and took off towards the back of the alley, disappearing from sight. She stared after it for a long time, until Bob got restless and started tugging his leash, snapping her out of her reverie.

So it took a wolf-shifter to banish Rafe from her thoughts, she mused—a state that lasted all of two minutes. Because as she entered the lift in Jack's building, he was there.

# Chapter Five

The wolf slipped under a gate into the car park beneath the building, the route familiar to them from many nightly explorations. There, they made their way along the dimly lit walls behind the cars to a dark corner where they had left their clothes, a convenient blind spot in the building's surveillance, left there on purpose. The wolf didn't want to release its preferred state, but the human was stronger, as always, and forced the shift.

Rafe groaned as his body assumed its human form, the feeling more like intense pleasure than pain. His wolf settled to a translucent aura on his torso to study the world with its own senses. After a shift, it stayed calmer that way. He didn't have to hide what he was, or his activities in the car park, because building security knew; the guards were either shifters or vampires themselves.

He hurried into his clothing: jogging bottoms, a T-shirt, and trainers he had worn for his jog in the park earlier. His evening's exercise hadn't been as relaxing as he had hoped it would be. The protesters against civil rights for the two-natured had been gathering at the Hyde Park Corner, preparing to march through the park. It was useless to protest against the shifters, as the two-natureds didn't have any say in the vote, but feelings had been running high among the demonstrators and they wanted to liberate the park for humans only.

Good luck with that, he thought grimly. Since he didn't want a confrontation, he had ignored the protesters, but at this point anyone who hadn't immediately agreed with them was held to be against them, and so got heckled. The racist slurs or calling shifters to disgusting beasts was just part of their repertoire, none of which had bothered him. It went against his nature to pretend to be human in such a situation though, but there had been too many of them for him to face alone and he had thought it best to return home.

To his shock, he had almost run into Charlotte there. She had just exited his building with his neighbour's dog in tow, and Bob had claimed all of her attention. He had spent the day thinking about her, and it had stunned him to see her so unexpectedly. It felt like he'd conjured her out of thin air, and made him forget every rule of civilised behaviour. Instead of going to her and greeting her, and maybe joining her for her walk, he had retreated into the shadows as she walked past. Then he had slipped into the car park and shifted.

In wolf form, they had followed her to the Hyde Park, glad that they had. The reckless human needed to be protected from herself. Did she think shifters were the worst of what she might encounter in the dark?

A shifter in animal form was just about the greatest predator there was, but they seldom attacked humans. One-natured monsters, however, wouldn't hesitate violating their own. Not to mention the protesters who were ready to release their mob mentality at the slightest provocation. A dog wouldn't help her much against them, especially one as friendly as Bob. Bob liked even him, even though dogs were naturally wary around predatory shifters.

He and his wolf had miscalculated Bob's friendliness though, and he had spotted them under a bush where they had been checking Charlotte's path ahead of her. But had the foolhardy woman ran like any sensible human would when her dog indicated danger in a known shifter park? No, she had stayed to investigate.

He shook his head, his anger rising as he walked to the lift and called it down to the car park, entering it impatiently when it arrived. Only when they had growled had she realised she should flee, and even then she had retreated slowly.

They had followed her to make sure she got home safely, and that was when they had become careless again. They had thought she would run straight inside, but instead she had paused at the mouth of the alley and had seen them. And she had stayed to look. It made him furious. What if he had been a shifter less in control of his beast? Generally, shifters didn't attack humans, but there are exceptions to every rule.

The lift cage paused at the lobby, adding to his aggravation. The doors opened—and there she was again.

He didn't think. He reacted with all his anger and worry for her. Reaching out, he pulled her into the cage, dog and all, and pushed her against the wall, pinning her down with his large body. She opened her mouth in protest, and he sealed it with his own.

As their mouths met, his firm pressure against her soft acceptance, his anger turned to lust so intense he thought he would come then and there. He wrapped his arms around her hips and pulled her against his erection, the contact shooting a shockwave of pleasure to his brain, shutting it down for good.

Fortunately, she didn't struggle against his kiss. He wasn't at all sure he had the willpower to stop if she wanted him to. She was as aroused as he was. Deepening the kiss, she wrapped her arms around his neck and folded her long legs around his waist, bringing him in direct contact with what he wanted, only their clothing blocking his way inside her. He growled and ground harder against her, never breaking the kiss. He devoured the warm moistness of her mouth, her taste so exquisite he could have drank her forever.

A distant ping signalled the cage's arrival at their floor and the doors opened. A quiet clicking of claws against marble indicated that Bob had exited the lift, pausing when his leash didn't let him go farther. But Rafe didn't break the kiss. It wasn't until someone cleared his throat into the lift's loudspeaker that he remembered the constant surveillance the building was famous for.

"If you could take your lady indoors, Mr Green..." an amused voice admonished.

He ended the kiss and smiled when she protested with a small mew, her eyes half closed with lust. He didn't let go of her but just carried her out of the cage, hailing the camera with a two-fingered salute as he went. He heard the bloke chuckle as the doors closed again behind him.

He couldn't wait to get her into his bed where he would keep her for as long as he needed in order to get the human woman out of his system. Then he could concentrate on other things. Like having her again.

But the small delay had been enough to sober her up. She struggled, and even though it pained him to let her go, he set her on her feet. "Don't ever go into a dark park alone again," he said sternly, remembering his earlier aggravation. "Do you hear me, woman?" His voice was gravelly for anger and worry, and for lust.

She recoiled as if he had thrown cold water on her. "Excuse me? Are you giving me orders?"

"Bloody well I am. Don't you know how vulnerable human women are? From now on, when you're walking Bob this late, you take me or someone from security with you." Then a very worrying thought occurred to him. "And what are you doing with Bob anyway?" If she was Jack's girlfriend he would have to kill him. Or something.

Her eyes flashed and she lifted her chin, facing him squarely. His anger subsided as he admired how wonderful she looked when this animated, her face flushed and her breathing hard. "Who the hell do you think you are, accosting me and giving me orders? You are not the boss of me and I am not your woman." She spat the last word as if it was a foul one.

He was surprised by her vehemence. Thinking of her as human, he had forgotten how much of an alpha she was. She wouldn't respond to orders very well, especially since she constantly refused to recognise that he was the more dominant of them. She was unlikely to recognise the power structures the shifters took for granted as well.

He had gone about this all wrong, assuming she would simply obey. A woman like her had to be won over in a fair challenge. He had to prove himself to her. His blood heated again as he thought of how he would win her, his cock twitching as more blood pulsed into it.

Forget the fair challenge. He would have her, whatever it took.

Charly stared at Rafe, angry and disappointed. She didn't know why she had thought he would be different, that he would be a man who didn't need to dictate to women all the time. Someone self-confident and assertive. Did he think a kiss gave him a right to start issuing orders to her?

Although ... what a kiss. A wave of heat surged through her when she remembered it, only to turn into an embarrassed flush when she thought of how she had behaved. She had answered his kiss with a ferocity she hadn't known she had in her, grinding against his hardness like a cat in heat, completely out of control of her body.

What was wrong with her? Just because it had felt as if one of her fantasies had come to life when he'd pulled her into the lift cage and started kissing her like he'd been starving, it didn't mean she had to behave like a hussy. And in front of witnesses even. Her blush deepened when she imagined what the security guards must think of her. She could only hope they wouldn't tell her brother. She did value his good opinion of her, if nothing else. That he had managed to compromise her standing again angered her and she stepped away from him, retreating towards Jack's door.

Only then did it occur to her to wonder why he was there. She took the first good look at him—she had barely had time to recognise his scent down at the lobby when he was already on her—and saw that he was dressed in jogging gear. The slightly damp T-shirt clinging to his body revealed abs even better than she had imagined. His wide shoulders stretched the shirt to its limits; his bare arms were strong with sinewy muscles and thick veins, and they were covered with fair hair, sun-bleached, too. Would his chest be hairy as well?

Imagining his bare chest made her arousal return and she inhaled sharply. A definite mistake, for it brought his wonderful scent to her, as irresistible as earlier. She couldn't help glancing down and noticing the erection that still stretched his sweatpants. Blushing, she lifted her gaze hastily. She wasn't used to men who were so unashamed of their sexuality.

The look in his eyes was amused and self-satisfied. And his presence seemed to have intensified too, making it very difficult for her to keep her eyes fixed on his, but she gritted her teeth. She would not let him get the better of her twice.

His smile deepened. "You didn't answer my question."

She blinked. "What was that?"

"Why are you walking Bob?"

She looked down, remembering the dog only then. Bob was lying on the floor with his big head resting on his front paws, looking bored. "I, ah, am looking after it for my brother this week while he's in New York."

"Jack Thornton is your brother?" He looked relieved, as if he had thought she was Jack's wife or something. She didn't question how he knew Jack. Important businessmen all knew each other.

"And why are you here?" Since he didn't look disappointed at hearing Jack wasn't home, he couldn't be here for him. Not that he would visit in sweaty jogging gear anyway, she was sure.

"I live there," he said, indicating the flat next door, startling her. It hadn't even occurred to her that he might live here, as his firm was based in Epsom. He sneered at her surprise. "What, you didn't think a construction worker could afford a place like this?"

She hadn't thought anything like. He might look like he spent most of his time outdoors like a construction worker would, but the air of authority surrounding him made him exactly what he was, the owner. This was an expensive and exclusive building for the extremely rich, but if he could afford the services of Latimer & Holby, he could afford to live here too.

"I just haven't seen you here before."

He smiled, mollified. "Well, it's a company flat we only use when we need to stay in town. We built this building, you know."

That truly surprised her. "But that was almost a hundred years ago."

"It's an old company." And obviously one with a much higher profile than she had thought. Then he got serious. "Do you usually walk Bob this late? Because I meant what I said. It's not safe."

An image of the wolf-shifter flashed in her mind and she nodded instead of getting angry again. "I know. I just stayed later than I thought I would at work."

"Because of me?" His look was hopeful now, an oddly endearing expression on such a strong face.

_Absolutely._ And not because of his case either. Some of her fantasies returned, but they seemed to pale in comparison with reality. "I got immersed in the papers," she said, refusing to blush again.

He nodded, accepting her words. "I have a solution. Why don't you take my case home with you and work it here? You could come home earlier that way and still bill the hours. And I can keep you company." He lifted his hands, mollifying, when she was about to argue. "I won't be a guard, I promise. But then I wouldn't have to worry about you when you go walking Bob."

It warmed her heart that he actually worried for her instead of just wanting to boss her around. It was the only explanation for what came out of her mouth. "I saw a wolf-shifter today."

# Chapter Six

Rafe froze. Why would she bring the wolf up when she had practically bitten his head off earlier for showing concern for her safety? Her scent didn't indicate fear, only the remains of her arousal, making his body tighten in response. Was she appalled or excited about what she had witnessed?

"Did you now?" he drawled, deciding to play it safe. With the demonstrations going on, it was only sensible not to tell her what he was just yet. "Then you admit I'm right and it's dangerous out there."

But she wouldn't cede to his superiority in anything, as he had known she wouldn't. "Everyone knows the park is full of shifters. Nothing has ever happened before."

"I'm not actually worried about the shifters," he said. It didn't surprise him that she thought they would pose the greatest risk. "Only wolf clans use Hyde Park and they're pack creatures like natural wolves, but with the human ability to reason to make them more predictable even in wolf form. They have a standing order to steer clear of humans when in animal form, and that will hold." Hopefully, anyway. If the demonstrators aggravated the clan leaders with their march, no one knew what would happen. "It's the humans I'm worried about."

It was her turn to sneer, slightly amused. "What, a few bigots armed with banners?"

He gave her a stern look and, to his satisfaction, he hadn't completely lost his touch, because she finally averted her eyes first. "There are more than a thousand of them and they're pretty worked up. Unless you're willing to declare for human supremacy, they'll take their anger out on you. Are you?"

He held his breath, hoping for a negative answer. He could take up the challenge of her without disclosing what he was, but he wanted her to want him, all of him, otherwise it wouldn't be a real victory.

She was taken aback by the strength of his question and she gave him a scrutinising look. The game might be up already. "No, I don't think I'm with them," she finally said, and he released the breath he had been holding. Too early. "But that doesn't mean I'm with you either. It's not dangerous in the park."

"You just said you saw a wolf-shifter there." To his surprise, he was getting angry again. He wasn't very temperamental, but her obtuseness was starting to aggravate him. "What if it had been someone riled by the demonstrators who wanted to take it out on a lone female like you?"

"Didn't you just say the wolf-shifters aren't allowed to attack humans?"

He growled; he simply couldn't help it. "There are exceptions to every rule. Besides, the full moon is on us and that makes all shifters more unpredictable." He was a strong shifter, but even he felt the strain, as Might, the energy that made all the two-natured more than human, poured into him in full force.

She straightened, excited by their argument, giving him a notion of what she would look like in a courtroom. Magnificent. "So those people are right, shifters aren't capable of integrating to human society?"

It was a deliberate provocation, but after being forced to flee the demonstrators earlier, he couldn't ignore it. "The two-natured people have been around for as long as humans have. It's not solely a human society and never has been. Humans have just been allowed to think that way."

In his opinion, being the weakest race around, humans shouldn't be in charge even this much, but they were more numerous, and the two-natured had always been more interested in their own affairs. Since humans, unaffected by Might, only recognised the human face of the two-natured, it had always been easier for everyone to pretend that it was a human society.

Her mouth quivered in a small triumph. "So the wolf _was_ you?"

He should have expected her to make that conclusion, but faced with such a blatant attack, he did what he had thought he would never do. He denied everything.

The October weather had been colder than usual for the time of year, even though the sun had shone almost every day. Shifters could shrug off the sharp bite of wind, but the old manor the Greenwood clan called their home demonstrated the turn of the season by getting excessively damp, forcing its occupants to build fires in every room to ward it off. They were used to it though, and they looked forward to the long hours spent in front of fireplaces every fall.

Rafe was sitting in his brother's study on the ground floor of the manor, enjoying the heat radiating from the grate a few feet from his wingback chair, his long legs stretched towards the warmth. Despite the cold wind, he had decided to take his bike for a spin from London to Epsom, a whim he was now regretting. The distance wasn't great, but it had been long enough a ride to freeze him to his bones.

Jamie, Rafe's older brother and the leader of their clan, sat in a similar chair on the other side of the fireplace. They were old chairs, their leather worn from use, but the brothers preferred them to pretty much all the other seats in the entire manor. Rafe remembered their father sitting in this office in these same chairs, and Jamie, who was almost a century older than him, could recall when the chairs had been new. There was something very comforting about having things older than you around to rely on.

"So, what's the solicitor like?" Jamie asked after Rafe had given him an update on the case. The brothers looked greatly alike. Jamie had a few more lines around his eyes, which made him look about forty in human years to Rafe's thirty-five. His colours were lighter too, flaxen blond instead of dark gold, and his eyes were the colour of good whisky, like his wolf's. "Will she get the job done?"

An image of Charlotte flashed in his mind. "Absolutely."

The brothers were equally strong, and were both very much dominant, but they had figured out ages ago how to run the clan together efficiently without coming to constant fights. Rafe dealt with the finances of the clan while Jamie saw to its people and day-to-day operations. If Rafe told Jamie that things would get done, Jamie wouldn't question the statement.

But today, a slow smile spread on Jamie's face. "That good, huh?"

Rafe frowned. He didn't quite understand why he was having such trouble putting Charlotte out of his mind, but he didn't like what Jamie implied with the question. "She's human."

Jamie cocked an amused brow. "Humans are fair game too, you know."

The brothers were close and could talk about almost everything, but today Jamie's teasing irritated Rafe. He did have his reasons for steering clear of humans, even if they weren't set in stone. Charlotte was hot enough to warrant him bending his own rules, but there was more to it. "The thing is, she's very much a dominant. My wolf is convinced she's a wolf too and that we should go after her in earnest."

No matter how much his wolf studied her, it wouldn't change its mind.

Jamie's face went carefully blank and Rafe's heart ached for him. With shifters, the human half could like, lust, and love anyone he or she wanted, but if the beast didn't approve, nothing would come of it. Rafe had met any number of nice girls during his long life that he had thought would do just fine for him. He didn't have any great demands. He would take care of a woman's safety and wellbeing; in turn, she would make sure he was fed and clothed and warm his bed at nights—at least that had been his general idea about marriage in his youth. Only, his wolf hadn't accepted any of the women, and there had been no point in pursuing them in earnest.

However, once the beast made its choice, it was very difficult for the human half to resist. Ideally, it chose another shifter whose beast reacted with equal determination as Might pulled them together. Difficulties might arise if the beast went after a different kind of a shifter—a wolf with a non-predatory shifter was a troublesome equation—but it wasn't impossible.

Sometimes the beast chose from among the other two-natured species. Vampires weren't as strange a choice for a shifter as one might think. Both were long-living, and after a century or two vampires were strong enough in Might to face the daylight again. Sentients, for their part, lived only slightly longer than ordinary humans, but at least they could see auras and knew what they were dealing with. But the beasts seldom chose sentients. They were remembered as traitors of all two-natureds for their co-operation with humans during the Inquisition and the subsequent war that lasted for centuries.

Still, even sentients might do. Humans, however, made for difficult partners. They weren't affected by Might so they didn't react to the mating call the beast sent out. In turn, the beast couldn't understand why it wasn't being answered and would get very unhappy, affecting the host too. A shifter could woo a human of course, and even win, but it was a sour victory. Even if a happy, lifelong marriage followed, it would still leave the shifter to mourn for the loss of its partner for far longer than the marriage lasted.

Sometimes the human spouse didn't adjust at all. That had happened to Jamie. Some thirty years ago he had found a nice woman, won her over, and brought to the clan as his wife. Man and wolf both had been ecstatic. But his wife hadn't liked her new life among the wolves, or the notion that she would grow old while he would stay the same, and soon left him. She had been able to leave because she hadn't felt the wolf's call, and had left their only offspring with Jamie too, to be raised as a wolf with the clan. She later married a human man and birthed purely human children with him, and was expecting the arrival of her first grandchild shortly.

All Jamie had been able to do was let her go and watch in impotent anger as his woman went to another, unable to kill the human male as his beast demanded of him. He couldn't even mourn her, she was still alive, which really messed with his wolf's head. But as long as the wolf thought of her as theirs, it wouldn't let him look for another partner either. Rafe had sworn that the same would never happen to him.

"Perhaps she's a latent shifter?" Jamie said. "The gene might be there, giving her some extra willpower, and making your wolf react. She just hasn't enough of a shifter in her to make her more than human." Since the gene pool was very mixed, it was possible for human parents to have children who carried a two-natured gene. They had had wolves in their clan, brought there by human parents unable to give their shifter child what he or she needed. Sometimes the parents even joined the clan with their children.

Rafe was grateful to his brother for trying to help him, but he had to shake his head. "She doesn't smell anything but human."

"Then perhaps she's just a very strong human. They do exist you know," Jamie said with a smile. Humans didn't have the monopoly on stereotyping. Shifters tended to think that all humans were weak.

Rafe smiled too. "Perhaps." But that didn't mean he was willing to bind her to him, no matter what his wolf said. At least it hadn't put out the call yet. If that happened, he would be truly screwed.

# Chapter Seven

There had been a few curiously raised eyebrows at work when Charly had switched off her computer before everyone else that afternoon, taking her things and heading home. In only a month, they had become accustomed to her insane working hours. "Should we call a doctor," Gary quipped. "Or the bosses, so that they can see how we are here late on Friday afternoon after you've already left?" Learning that she would be working at home had made him groan.

She didn't really know why she was following Rafe's suggestion to work at home—or at Jack's, as it was. Would he even be there? After all, they hadn't made any definite plans. She hadn't wanted to after he lied to her about being a shifter. And she knew he had lied, she was experienced enough a barrister to know when that happened. It had upset and disappointed her and so she had made her excuses and retreated to Jack's flat, not giving him a chance to renew his offer of working with her tonight.

Whether it had been Rafe or not, the encounter with the wolf-shifter had had an impact on her. She had followed the debates in the Commons with much greater interest than earlier. The cause felt more personal now that she knew someone who had something to gain from the vote. It was as if her world had been opened up a little bit more, even though everything was the same. She had always been surrounded by the two-natureds, and Rafe hadn't even admitted to being a shifter, so it shouldn't have affected her so much. But it had.

Following the heated debate had also made her understand why he would have lied and eased her upset. Who could blame him for wanting to hide what he was when demonstrators were making things more difficult? They had marched through Hyde Park the previous night, but like Rafe had predicted, shifters had been a no-show. In today's papers, the demonstrators were claiming they had scared the shifters into hiding. She didn't like it. It was only a matter of time before the powerful shifters would show the humans exactly how not scared they were.

As she had expected, the vote in the Parliament had gone against the two-natureds, but with a much smaller margin than previously. Disappointed with her fellow humans, she had wanted to call Rafe, but had managed to prevent herself in time. If he didn't want to tell her the truth, it wasn't her place to force him to out himself.

But she felt that the lie sat uneasily between them as she waited for Rafe to show up. She was filled with nervous anticipation, fiddling with the papers she had placed on her brother's dining table. The large table that seated ten would be the safest place for their meeting, especially if they sat at opposite ends.

Yeah, right. As if anywhere with him would be safe. And she didn't mean his possible status as a wolf-shifter. He was dangerous because he could so easily override her personal restraints. Even now she felt excitement build inside her.

With all honesty, she didn't know what to think of him. Having been brought up with only humans, she didn't have any experience in dealing with non-humans even on ordinary matters, let alone with someone who wanted to get up close and personal with her. Was she appalled or thrilled? It was uncomfortable to realise that she might actually have more reservations now that she suspected he wasn't a human.

Then again, it might help her keep things professional between them.

A tiny voice at the back of her mind tried to suggest an entirely different approach. Wouldn't it be great to have a boyfriend like Raphael Green, a successful businessman, to show to her parents? He would win them over easily with his charm and then she could throw it in their faces that he wasn't a human. See how they would take that.

It was a nice image, but reality intervened. He wasn't interested in anything long-term with her, only a quick roll in the sack. And while she was sure he could stand up to her father, she couldn't really put him in that situation, even if they were serious. Which they weren't.

To pass time—and to distract herself—she concentrated on everything she had learned about the land transaction so far. She had tried two different approaches: finding out who actually owned the land by going through official records, and trying to come up with motives for someone who would want to prevent the building project.

Both approaches had turned out to be surprisingly fruitless. The last transaction record for the land she had been able to find was from the eighteenth-century, which baffled her. Even if the land had been inherited numerous times since within the same family, there should have been some mention of it. The other line she was following was just conjecture until the private investigator she often employed returned with information.

Was it a landowner who didn't want new people in his backyard? After making a few phone calls to officials she had compiled a list of names for the investigator to look into. Or was it someone in the village who opposed everything new just on principle? It could be the local cultural heritage preservation society, for example, though she found it difficult to believe that old ladies would go so far as to forge land records.

Then again, there were all those murders in Midsomer...

Ok, that was TV and not real life. So maybe it was someone who wanted that piece of land for himself to ... prospect gold in the creek that ran through it. Okay, that was a bit farfetched too, but maybe it was an angler protecting his salmon rights.

She didn't think any of these scenarios were very plausible, but she went through them like a mantra in her head to ward off the flush of excitement that coursed through her every time she thought about Rafe. And that was just about all the time. Thank heavens it was Friday. She wouldn't have to pretend to be sane in front of her colleagues for two whole days.

The life-long habit of keeping her body in control finally came to her aid. First, she managed to calm her mind, and then her body followed, so that she was perfectly composed when the doorbell rang, heralding Rafe's arrival.

She opened the door and her equilibrium shot to pieces.

His size hit her first. She had managed to forget how big he was. He wasn't even standing straight but had propped a hand against the wall by the door and was leaning a little towards her, and she still had to angle her neck to look up to him.

The strength in his blue-eyed gaze made the second blow to her self-control, and before she even noticed, she had averted her eyes. She wanted to lift them back up just to show she wasn't cowed by him, but his body made her forget everything else.

He was dressed like a biker in boots, a jacket of worn black leather that hugged his wide shoulders, and low-riding jeans that revealed interesting things about his male anatomy. With his height and muscle structure, the getup was truly impressive and it took a physical effort to force her eyes back up to his face. His thick blond hair was even more tousled than usual, not at all flattened by the helmet he was holding in his other hand.

Who cared whether or not he was human when he looked this gorgeous? And she wasn't even into bikers.

He walked in as if she wasn't standing there transfixed, blocking the doorway. "Sorry I'm late. I had to check in with my brother in Epsom."

She could only nod as she watched him stalk across the vast room to the dining table and place his helmet on it. He had buttocks that should be outlawed, or preserved for private admiration and use. Like sinking her teeth into.

Shocked by the uncharacteristic notion, she managed to douse her arousal, but then he bent over to rub Bob's ears, giving her a full view of the said derriere, and her body failed her completely. She almost whimpered as she drank in his fine form. The sound was barely audible, but he turned his head to shoot her a quick glance. The smug look on his face made it clear that the bastard knew exactly what kind of an effect he was having on her.

She cleared her throat, determined to overcome her arousal. "You weren't late. I only just arrived myself." She may have left work early, but she had eaten out and had treated herself with a visit to a hair salon. Her waist-long hair didn't need much maintenance, but she liked to have it washed, and her skull massaged regularly; it was a relaxing start for the weekend. She had asked the hairdresser to comb her hair open and it was flowing down in a heavy mass. She wondered if Rafe had noticed.

He straightened up and checked her out, giving her a notion that he didn't miss anything. "Have you had a chance to walk Bob yet?" He asked the question conversationally, completely ignoring her staggered state.

She was grateful for it. "Not yet. I thought I'd go once we finished with the papers." She waved towards the pile on the table behind him, but he didn't turn to look at them.

"Is there something I actually need to take a look at?"

"Not really," she sighed. "I think I need to talk to the people in the village and see what I can learn that way."

He frowned. "Not alone you won't," he stated. Then, before she could tell him that she didn't respond well to dictates, he smiled, addling her brain and making her forget why she disliked bossy men. "We'll go together tomorrow. Let's make a day of it. We'll take Bob too." He looked so delighted with his plan that it was impossible to get annoyed with his high-handed manners.

Oh, who did she think she was fooling? The mere thought of spending a day with him excited her.

"So we're not taking the bike?" she teased him to distract herself.

He grinned and no meditation could calm her from the effect it had on her. "Not unless you absolutely want to."

She stifled a shudder. "I don't think I'd make a good biker chick."

"Oh, I don't know about that." His warm gaze raked her up and down, making her blood heat wherever it touched. "I can definitely see those legs sheathed in black leather." The way he said it, she could easily see herself sitting astride a bike, pressing her chest against his firm back, holding his waist tightly.

"Well... " she had to clear her throat before she was able to continue, "perhaps some other time."

"Perhaps," he returned, but his eyes held a promise of it. She returned his look, feeling their mutual arousal rise again. Would they even make it out of the house?

Bob pushed Rafe in the thigh, breaking the moment when he turned to look down at the dog, and she didn't know whether to feel disappointed or relieved. "Feeling left out, are you, Bob?" he laughed. He gave the dog another enthusiastic rub. "I think we'll take Bob for a walk," he stated. Without waiting for an answer, he went to fetch Bob's leash and put it on. He then headed out the door, Bob following him smartly as if the dog had actually passed his obedience training. She had no choice but to follow too, utterly bemused by the turn of events.

# Chapter Eight

Rafe drew in a lungful of air the moment he got outdoors, using the exhaust fumes from the busy Park Lane to replace Charlotte's intoxicating scent. He shouldn't have ridden down in the same lift cage as her. The small space had filled with her essence and messed with his already aroused body. It didn't help that he had spent the ride trying not to remember what they had done the last time they'd ridden together.

What was it about her anyway that got him aroused faster than any woman he had known? He couldn't even claim she had shown any particular dominant tendencies tonight. On the contrary, she had been so taken with his looks that she had followed him out meekly without even a token protest. Who could have guessed the bad-boy look would affect her so much.

Her looks had definitely had him going from the moment she opened the door. Dressed casually in jeans and a red cashmere V-neck jumper that caressed her curves softly, her gorgeous black hair flowing down like a velvet fountain, she had simply taken his breath away. He had needed all his self-control not to pull her into his arms the moment he saw her, but he had managed to walk past. But taking the dog for a walk was only postponing the inevitable.

During the ride to London earlier, he had tried to reason with his wolf about how to deal with her. The human half thought that he should just sleep with her and have done with it. No need to disclose uncomfortable truths. But the wolf didn't like the secrecy and it didn't like the notion of a temporary bedfellow either.

He had absolutely forbidden it to put out the call to a human, but the wolf wasn't ready to admit they shouldn't pursue her in earnest. The argument between his two halves had reached a point where it had seemed best to simply keep his distance from her and behave professionally during the course of their work relationship. But the way she was affecting him was making it really difficult for him to keep that decision.

_Friends first_.

The suggestion coming from his wolf was actually a good one. Rafe turned to look at the tall and slender woman walking by his side, seeking for something neutral to say that didn't involve odes about how her black hair was shining in the moonlight.

"So tell me, do people call you Charlotte or do you have a nice nickname?"

She turned to smile at him, a bit shyly, and his heart lost its rhythm. Since when had his ticker taken interest in this affair?

"My family calls me Charlotte and my friends call me Lottie, of all things. But I've always wanted to be called Charly, ever since I read a book as a child where the heroine was called that. I've just never managed to make it catch."

So it would be unique for the two of them. "Charly. I like it. It's much stronger than Lottie and it definitely suits you better." And he liked how she had admitted such a personal wish.

Her smile turned to a semi-serious frown. "I thought we agreed you would call me Miss Thornton."

He snorted. After the way they had been all over each other? Not bloody likely. Besides, she was much too passionate for such a stuffy name. "I will call you Charly," he said, and she didn't object again. Perhaps he could even make her call him Rafe.

In the park, Bob trotted on happily. Rafe held his leash, leaving his wolf to keep an eye on the dog, his full attention on the gorgeous woman by his side. Since it felt right and natural, and because he was too weak to resist the temptation, he wrapped his free arm around Charly's waist, drawing her closer.

She tensed for a heartbeat, but he waited patiently and was rewarded when she relaxed and leaned against him, and he adjusted his hold. His heart was beating erratically in his chest, making it hard for him to talk, so he didn't. But the silence was companionable.

It was wonderful to have a tall woman by his side that he could hold with such ease. Not that he remembered taking girls on walks in parks before, moonlit or otherwise. His wolf hadn't seen the point in such activity until now.

"The moon is almost full tonight," she noted after a while, but it wasn't an opening to anything romantic, to his disappointment. "Do you think there will be shifters here?"

He made a quick study of their surroundings and the park seemed quiet. "I'm more worried about the demonstrators again. They've been emboldened by their success yesterday and may attempt another march today."

"Well, since the shifters hid themselves yesterday, they might do so tonight too," she suggested, but he had to shake his head, his worry rising. He shouldn't have brought her here.

"This close to the full moon, not all shifters are able to control themselves as well as they should." There were stories in shifter history of carnage that had followed when humans had turned against local shifter clans at the wrong time of the month. It had been prudent for the clans to isolate themselves, but modern times had made that very difficult.

His words caught her interest and he was fairly sure she would ask again if he was a shifter himself. He still didn't know what to tell her. But she only looked curious. "Why does the moon affect them so?"

He sighed soundlessly. Surely onesies were taught something about shifters? "Shifters, like all two-natureds, are creatures of Might, the energy surrounding all living things. Might is what gives them their second nature. Sentients' consciences are pure Might, vampires use Might for magic, and a shifters' transformation is powered by Might." He paused to see if she knew this and since she looked interested, he continued. "During the full moon, Might flows with greater force, because the sun's disruptive effect on it is at its weakest, and the extra energy makes all two-natureds act a bit strange. Shifters with smaller tolerance to Might simply have to change shape to release that surplus energy."

He turned to look at her again, feeling that he was wasting a perfect night in lecturing, but she looked captivated. "So a strong shifter doesn't have to shift even on a full moon?"

He smiled, pleased that she had listened. "That's right. They can shift whenever they wish and regulate their reserves of Might that way. But most shifter clans gather to shift together on full moons. Afterwards, there's a feast." He looked forward to it every month, no matter how many moons he had behind him.

She frowned, and he could anticipate her next question. She wanted to know how he knew all this if he wasn't a shifter. But she didn't get a chance to ask it, because his wolf tensed, claiming his attention. It had detected something he had been too distracted to notice.

His instincts took over and he had pulled Charly behind him even before he had assessed the danger. Ten or so metres in front of them, three men were standing side by side, blocking their path. Or, to be more precise, three wolves were standing there, their auras in the open, looking aggressive and ready to shift.

Fucking great. Three against one wasn't exactly even odds, even if he was one of the strongest shifters in the greater London area. And he had a human woman to protect.

He didn't waste time wondering why they were acting hostile, even though he had permission from all the clans using the park to be here. He simply handed Bob's leash to her. "Run to safety," he commanded in a low voice. "I'll hold them until you can get the building's security here." He didn't turn to see if she did as she was told. His orders were obeyed as a rule.

The wind changed and he got a good scent of his opponents. They weren't local wolves after all, but strangers. That was odd. He was beginning to worry. "What do you want?"

He used his best alpha voice and saw to his satisfaction the thugs flinch and avert their gazes. The man standing in the middle was more brazen though—or more stupid—than his companions. He lifted his face immediately, even though he couldn't quite meet Rafe's eyes. His wolf was smarter and it assumed a submissive pose on his chest.

Rafe's wolf approved. It was reaching out of his chest, eager to be free. _Not now_ , he commanded it mentally, and it ceased from trying to force a shift on him.

"You've been poking your muzzle in where it doesn't belong, Green," the leader snarled.

So this was personal. "Have I now?" he drawled, his voice gravelly because his wolf was so close to shifting.

The leader stood his ground, possibly deciding that three against one was good odds from their point of view. "Yeah. In Betchworth. And we're here to make you regret it."

Rafe tensed. There weren't shifter clans anywhere near the small village where they had been buying land, so they had to be hired thugs. But who had hired them? And why were they acting now? Had Charly already found something that hit a nerve with someone? His stomach fell in dread for her, but he didn't turn to look if she had fled to safety, opting to keep his eyes on the assailants. "And who would we be?"

It wouldn't be that easy. "Never you mind that," the leader smirked. And then he attacked.

Rafe had anticipated the move. He stepped aside, swerving around the leader, and attacked the bloke on the left who hadn't been as swift to charge. He shifted his left hand into a huge paw with extending claws unlike any natural wolf, and sank them into his opponent's stomach. With his other arm he blocked the leader's punch to his face.

There was no time to pause. He pulled his claws out of the soft flesh of his opponent and the bloke fell on his knees and folded over in pain. Rafe hit him swiftly on the back of his head, dropping him like a stone. The leader kept on punching him, forcing him to defend himself with his free hand. Rafe was good, but not that good, and an occasional punch got through. And the third guy had got his fight-face on too.

As Rafe sidestepped to parry another punch, he got too close to the last guy. Before he could retreat, sharp claws punctured his side through the leather jacket. He grunted as the claws sank deep, but he didn't let the pain slow him down. He just slashed the bastard across the face with his own claws, causing the bloke to step back just enough for him to get a good kick to his opponent's stomach. The guy flew backwards far enough for Rafe to have a few seconds to deal with the leader, who was still trying to drop him with his fists.

Rafe attacked, distracting the leader who had got used to his defensive moves. A swift right hook took care of him, just in time for Rafe to face the last guy who was approaching again with a wolf's snarl on his face.

Rafe was about to attack when to his utter horror Charly sped past him, a spray can in her hand. Before he could stop her, she had emptied a full can of pepper spray into the bloke's face. The bastard covered his face with his hands, howling in pain, making it no challenge at all for Rafe to punch him unconscious too.

This done, he turned to Charly who was panting heavily as adrenaline pumped through her veins. But she didn't look frightened. She looked fierce and triumphant.

His blood heated by the fight, he reacted instantly. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her with all the fire surging through his veins. She answered with passion, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling his head down to better reach him, deepening the kiss. She pressed against him and the feel of her lush breasts against his chest drove all sensible thoughts from his mind.

He could have kissed her forever, but a nudge from his wolf reminded him that he hadn't gotten his woman to safety yet. He ended the kiss instantly and looked her sternly in the eyes. "Woman, when I tell you to run to safety, you bloody well run to safety."

# Chapter Nine

This was not how she had imagined her daring rescue would end, being marched through a dark park like a naughty little girl, Rafe's hand gripping her upper arm like a vice. "Let go of me, you brute. This is undignified." But he only paused long enough to detach Bob from the low railing she had tied him to, putting distance between them and the assailants they had left behind.

She tried to reason with him. "Shouldn't we at least do something about the men?" His face set in grim lines, he didn't answer. She had always wanted to find a man who would match her in willpower, but now that she had, she wasn't sure she appreciated him. "We can't just leave them there. What if they attack someone else?"

He turned to give her a stern look. "If you'd gone to fetch the security like I told you to do, they would be dealing with those men right now."

Well, that stung. "I told you I don't take orders well."

"And that is why you now have to face whatever those men get into their heads to do when they wake up."

Her stomach fell when the uncomfortable truth sank in. She should at least have called security, even if she hadn't run to safety. But it wasn't too late for that now. She fished her mobile phone out of her pocket with her free hand and pushed the speed dial for the security desk.

"You're not calling the police, are you?" he asked.

The question startled her. She, a lawyer, hadn't even considered it. She shook her head. "The building security."

"Good." Before she realised what he was about, he had taken the phone from her.

"Rafe here. Send a couple of trackers to the Hyde Park, northern shore of the Serpentine, near where the Ring meets the Serpentine road. Three outsiders." He listened to the other end, grunting in response, before ending the call and handing the phone back to her.

She had to admit that he had handled the call much more efficiently than she would have, but she still felt miffed that he had just taken over. At least he let go of her arm and allowed her to walk on her own, but he kept taking long, powerful strides, forcing her almost to run to keep up.

She couldn't understand why he was so angry with her for not following his orders. Surely he had got her measure better than that by now. He had been so wonderful before the attack, wrapping his arm companionably around her waist, making her think that he might be after more than just sex. Being treated like a witless female after she had begun to warm up to his other qualities was ... infuriating.

Her bad mood lasted until they were back in Jack's flat. He peeled off his leather jacket, revealing a large dark stain on the side of the long-sleeved T-shirt he was wearing underneath. Her heart skipped a beat in worry, her anger forgotten. "Oh, my God! You're hurt." The wound looked bad.

He glanced down, as if only now noticing it. "Oh, that. It's nothing. It's just a scratch."

"A scratch? A scratch doesn't bleed that much." Her voice sounded shrill, but she couldn't help it. The fight had been brutal, but until now she hadn't thought it could have been fatal.

The realisation that he could actually have died put the fight into a different light. A brawl wasn't something that normally impressed her, but he had been amazing. The three guys hadn't hesitated playing the odds, attacking all at the same time, but he had dealt with them with ruthless skill. She had been really frightened for him and so, instead of fleeing, she had stayed to see that he came to no harm. When she had noticed the last man lunge at him, she hadn't thought about her own safety but had just run in and doused the bastard with pepper spray.

Her legs began to shake when it dawned on her that she might have been hurt too, but she gritted her teeth and forced her body to quiet. It was no use expecting sympathy from him. He had kissed her senseless and had then treated her like an idiot female again, ordering her about. Well, two could play that game. "Take off your shirt."

A slow smile spread on his face that made her insides melt with the promise it held, but she hardened herself. "With pleasure," he drawled. He grabbed the tail of his grey shirt with both hands and pulled it over his head, revealing a tight abdomen and muscled chest dusted with light hair, just like she had hoped. Distracted by the sight, it took her a moment to check his wounds.

She blinked in surprise. He was right. There wasn't a gaping hole in his side from which he would have been bleeding to death. There weren't any signs of the other hits she had seen him take either—no black eye or a split lip in sight. Even though it was evident that he had bled profusely at some point, his side displayed only four red puncture marks that had already closed.

As she stared at the wounds that on anyone else would have needed emergency surgery, one thing became clear. "So you are a wolf-shifter." He could have been any shifter, really, with such rapid healing, but she knew he was the wolf she had seen.

He didn't deny it this time. "Yeah. Does it bother you?" he asked gruffly.

She lifted her gaze from the wounds to his face. There was an oddly vulnerable look in his eyes and her heart reached out to him. She wanted to assure him that she still liked him, although until now she hadn't even realised she actually did. That she wanted him was self-evident, but it was surprising to discover that there was more to her feelings than lust.

Since her answer clearly mattered to him, she gave it the thought it deserved. "No, not really," she said truthfully after a while. His muscles relaxed visibly. "But I haven't faced your shifter side yet." That might change everything. "I'm more upset because you lied to me."

He grimaced. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I did it. I'm never shy about the truth."

Since she had already put some thought into that, she just nodded. "Feelings have been running a bit high lately. You couldn't know that I'm not a bigot." She hadn't known it herself.

That made him smile. "I'm fairly sure you're not," he said, but she had to shake her head.

"I was raised by humans-only parents. My father is especially strict about it. This is the first time I'm dealing with someone that I know is a two-natured." Then, because she really wanted to know, she turned the tables. "Do you deal with humans a lot? Date them?"

She tried to keep the tone light, as if she wasn't suggesting anything, but to her surprise his face turned serious. "I actually try to avoid dating humans."

It wasn't the answer she had hoped for and her heart sank. "Why?"

He raked his hair, aggravated, causing it to stand on its end, searching for an answer. "Humans don't make good partners for shifters," he settled with, but she got a notion it wasn't the whole truth.

"Who said anything about becoming partners?" she said, but the upset his words caused seemed to indicate that she was willing for something more. She looked at him from under her lashes to gauge his reaction, but she only met his unyielding stare. Apparently she wasn't the only prejudiced here.

Searching for a way out of the embarrassing situation, she turned her attention back to his wounds. "Come, let's wash this blood off." She led him to Jack's bathroom where the first-aid kit was, not that he needed its contents anymore. She wetted a facecloth, and even though he could have done the cleaning up himself, she did it for him. She wiped his side carefully with the cloth until the blood came off and all that was left were the remains of the puncture marks, already lightening.

Fascinated by his rapid healing, she ran her fingers over the marks. He inhaled sharply, causing the defined muscles in his abdomen to stand out, and she snatched her hand away. "Does it hurt?"

"Not there, baby." His voice was deep and gravelly again. She glanced down and saw his erection straining the front of his jeans, and a warm blush spread all over her body. Frightened by how easily he could get her going, she fought the arousal, still hurt that he didn't consider her worth more than a lay. A slow smile spread on his face as he watched her struggle. "Scared?"

The challenge made her competitive nature come to her aid. "I'm not scared of anything." An obvious lie, because she was terrified. She couldn't afford to lose her self-control, but he put a constant strain on her willpower like nothing had before.

He had been leaning against the counter around the sink while she cleaned his wounds, but now he straightened up. His bare chest was only inches from her face and his wonderful scent invaded all of her, further weakening her resolve. He flashed a grin that was definitely wolfish, but also very appreciative. "No, you're not. Otherwise you wouldn't have attacked an aggressive male wolf-shifter armed with only pepper spray."

Charly's knees gave in under her and she had to take a hold of the counter to keep from falling, but he was already there. He pulled her against his chest, steadying her with his strong arms. "I didn't know they weren't human," she said in a small voice that didn't sound like her. She had thought they were demonstrators attacking anyone who didn't immediately side with them.

He tightened his embrace and the feel of his warm, bare chest helped her to banish the lingering fright. She wanted to rub her face on the hair there like a cat scent-marking. Only the memory of his rejection made her stop. She couldn't claim ownership of a man who didn't want her. Never mind that it wasn't in her nature to want to claim a man in the first place.

She stiffened and tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her. He lifted her chin with his hand and gave her a searching look. "You're not afraid of risking yourself for someone else, but you are afraid of something," he murmured, studying her face. "What is it?"

It had to be the way he made her feel so safe that caused her to confess it. "I used to have these uncontrollable rages when I was a little girl. They stopped after therapy, but I'm still unable to just let go. Especially with men. I'm frightened to lose control of myself."

He looked surprised and then a bit amused. "You've let go with me just fine. I can understand why something like that would frighten a child, but you're a grown woman now."

He clearly didn't understand. "What if I'm not strong enough to get back in control?"

He leaned back in his embrace to better look her in the eyes. "I am. Just let go and I'll catch you."

A wonderful elation surged through her for his words. He really could do that. The feeling wasn't merely sexual, although her arousal had returned. The emotion was stronger. She stared at him almost in awe and the words just got out of her mouth. "I wish my father could know you."

His mood changed instantly. He withdrew and pulled his arms away, leaving her feeling cold and rejected. And utterly upset. She knew he wasn't looking for anything permanent, but surely the thought of meeting her father shouldn't cause that great a reaction.

"I'd better leave before we do something we both will regret," he said, and his tone was very cold.

For once her strength failed her and she didn't know what to say. She only knew that she didn't want him to leave. "I don't think I can face being alone." She wasn't even ashamed of confessing it.

He closed his eyes tightly and let his head slump. When he lifted his eyes to meet hers again, they were devoid of the earlier humour and warmth. "Fine. I'll stay over, but I have to monitor the hunt. Don't worry," he added with a sneer, "I promise I'll be a gentleman."

Gentleman. Raphael hadn't known he was one. True, he was born the son of a gentleman at a time when that had actually meant something, even for the two-natureds, if only a certain leisurely lifestyle and proper education. By the time of his birth in the 1870s, all sentients had been dispelled to the Americas and there hadn't been anyone to out shifters or vampires who'd wanted an Oxbridge education. He had taken full advantage of the chances given to him.

But as he was sitting on a sofa in Jack's living room, brooding over a glass of excellent whisky he had liberated from Jack's liquor cabinet, he was fairly certain that the definition of a gentleman had undergone a great change over the past century. These days it basically meant a bloke who didn't take advantage of a woman who had suffered a great shock. Though he hadn't known he'd have it in him to do so. Not with Charly anyway. Yet he had only watched her disappear into her bedroom without so much as a goodnight's kiss.

It hadn't been that difficult, really. He had been fully prepared to have sex with her, and he knew that she had been willing too, and had been from the moment he'd walked into the flat. He hadn't even minded that she was sending signals of being interested in more than just sex, something that usually made him beat a hasty retreat. His wolf agreed with her, even if the man didn't. But then she had revealed the real reason for her willingness to be more than a bed-mate to him, and he had gone cold inside.

She wanted to show him off to her father, the bigot. Here he had been thinking that she was different, that she was actually interested in what he was as well as who he was. She had seemed so in the park with all her questions. But she was just like all humans, willing to use him against her parents and then cast him away.

The disappointment the revelation of her true colours had caused had forced him to admit that he had begun to side with his wolf after all. He would have pursued her in earnest and taken whatever short time they'd have had together. Now he told his wolf that they would do things his way. He would bed her and then have done with her. Because there was no pretending he didn't still want her. The mere thought of her snuggling under a warm duvet in the next room brought back his hard-on, and he had to grab the arm of the sofa to restrain himself from going to her.

Even that might not have been enough, if he hadn't been worried for her safety. He needed to stay alert in case the attackers came back. His firm had been buying land in Betchworth for two years already and nothing like the attack had happened before. It could only mean that Charly had found something important. Thank gods they had come after him and not her, although it was worrying to realise that they had been able to find him so easily.

He had spent the evening organising a hunt for their assailants. He informed the local clan leaders about the intruders to their territory. Although the attack had been against him, they had to be given a chance to retaliate the violation of clan protocol. The attack, however, was first and foremost against his clan. He'd called Jamie and together they'd tried to figure out what was going on. The papers Charly had left on the dining table outlined every person she had already contacted, but they were only officials and gave him and Jamie nothing to work with.

Now he could only wait and watch over Charly for her safety, which put the greatest strain on his resolve to stay out of her bedroom. He had paced up and down the vast room, a mobile phone in one hand and a whisky glass in the other, listening to sounds from outside. Bob had paced with him for a while, but once the dog realised this new game wasn't leading anywhere, he had settled down on his mattress and gone to sleep.

Growing bored with the pacing himself, he had sat down to nurture his drink. And that had given him too much time to think of her. Why did she have to be human? He had only known her for two days and already the thought of grieving her after she was dead was upsetting him. It was best not to even start anything with her.

A discreet scratch on the front door cut to his brooding. He opened it for the two security guys who had been doing the tracking in the park, a lion and a leopard; an uneasy combination, but not impossible. Not surprisingly, they came back empty-handed, the assailants having woken up and left before the trackers reached them. But they had managed to follow the trail to a car park where it had disappeared as the men had got into a car and driven away. "There's a CCTV camera monitoring the place though, so we'll get the footage in the morning, or Monday the latest," the lion-shifter explained.

Satisfied with the results so far, he dismissed the men and returned to the sofa. He might as well get some sleep. He tossed and turned for a long time, struggling with the need to sneak in the bedroom where Charly was sleeping and slip under the duvet with her. And to his surprise, he realised he just wanted to hold her.

Eventually, he fell asleep, only to wake up to the smell of frying bacon.

# Chapter Ten

Charly had no idea why she was making breakfast for Rafe—and it was for him, there was no pretending otherwise. Was she trying to change his mind after last night's rejection? To show him that she would make a good little spouse for him?

The thought appalled her. She was not a homemaker. Admittedly, none of her relationships had progressed to the breakfast stage, but she found it difficult to imagine she would have toiled by the stove first thing in the morning for any of the men she had dated. Or that she would have found it necessary to convince them of her suitability with quintessentially feminine skills. She wasn't even sure she had any, having spent all her energy learning how to beat men on their own territory.

Maybe it was her prejudice rearing its ugly head. Perhaps she was finding it prudent to feed him properly before getting into the closed confines of a car with him. She snorted, not actually believing that shifters ate humans, even big hungry wolves. But there had to be a really good reason for her to do something this out of character. She was enjoying the cooking even, taking pride in her ability to manage a decent breakfast.

Perhaps she was just suffering from the consequences of a restless night. She was surprised she had slept at all. So much had been going through her head. The fight had returned to haunt her, and it had taken a long time for her to convince herself that neither she nor Rafe had been in real danger. Shifters or not, those guys wouldn't have killed them in cold blood.

Once that anxiety had been put to rest, she had been free to contemplate her feelings for him. Namely, if she could have any after only two days. She was not an emotional person, her rigid self-control guaranteeing that. But he had got through to her from the start, breaking past the barriers she had raised around herself, evoking previously unfelt emotions, arousing her like no man before. So was she interested in him merely because he got her blood heating?

But he was exactly the kind of man she had always been looking for: strong, self-confident, and assertive, but not on her expense. Even when he had issued her orders, expecting her to follow them, he had had a good reason for it. She liked him because he was a man who didn't have to belittle her in order to feel manly. But was it enough to want a future together?

Or was she, quite simply, drawn to him because he was right—he was strong enough to pull her back if she lost control. Because for the first time ever she truly wanted to lose it. Not merely in bed, but in everything. She wouldn't have to be the strong one for a change, handling everything by herself. It was a very seductive idea. When someone was that perfect, did it really matter that they weren't the same species?

Her heart fell. For him it mattered. To have everything she wanted at her grasp only to have it denied was devastating. Why wouldn't he date humans? She was accustomed to relentlessly pursuing her goals and achieving them, but it was evident that his mind couldn't be turned with mere stubbornness. So should she even try? Settle for just having sex with him?

No. Her stubborn streak lifted its head. If she didn't get the whole package, she would have nothing from him, no matter how amazing it would be.

Rather perversely, having made that decision, she had lain awake, waiting for him to come to her. That he hadn't had aggravated her to no end. Obviously she wasn't good enough for mere sex either. Was she good for anything?

She sensed him enter the kitchen, but still miffed with him, she kept her back turned to the door. She listened to him walk to her, felt his body near her, and she had to restrain herself not to lean towards him

"Mmm, smells great," he said, snatching a piece of bacon straight from the frying pan. His body heat competed with the stove before her and her need for him to wrap his arms around her was almost physical.

To avoid the temptation, she stepped sideways, putting a little distance between them. Then she turned to look at him—and completely forgot her reasons for not acting on her attraction to him.

He had slept in the clothes he had worn the previous evening, and had only put on a clean T-shirt borrowed from Jack's closet. He looked deliciously rumpled and dishevelled; his hair was tousled, his eyes were drowsy, and stubble covered his chin. He looked almost cuddly. Not a word she would have associated with him before.

To get a grip on her libido, she took the frying pan off the stove and scooped the contents on two plates, giving most of it to him. Coffee was enough for her. Silently, they took their plates and coffee mugs to the breakfast table by the kitchen window and settled down to eat. The view was towards the backstreet and it didn't inspire her to dally.

"Why won't you date humans?"

Perhaps it wasn't wise to accost a man before he'd had his breakfast, but she needed to know the truth.

He sighed and put down his knife and fork, giving her a slightly pleading look, as if asking her to understand. "There's no point in it. Shifters live for centuries while humans don't even manage a full one. The shifter's beast is very loyal. It takes us a very long time to get over our spouse's death."

His answer was nothing she had imagined, but annoyingly, she could see his point. "You don't grow older either, do you?" She couldn't imagine what that would be like, being an old hag next to a still virile man.

"Not until towards the end." He resumed his breakfasting for a moment before speaking again. "I'm simply trying to prevent heartache for both of us."

Instead of appeasing, his answer irritated her. "So you won't even enjoy what good we might have in the meantime?"

"No." There was no arguing with that tone, but it didn't mean she wouldn't try.

"And I have no say in it?"

He sneered. "If you want to get into my bed, you're welcome, baby. But we both know it's only my body you want. You don't have to pretend to be interested in me simply so you can shock you parents."

She stiffened, her heart going cold. "I'm sorry?"

"So you should be." He was getting angry. "I'm sick and tired of being used by human women who want to shock or awe people with me. If you want to get even with your father, find some other shifter for it."

She felt queasy. Was that what he thought? "It's not like that at all," she explained, upset. "I just thought that he would be impressed with you, and then when he learned you're a shifter, he would have to admit that he's been wrong about the two-natureds." Even as she said it, she realised how naïve that sounded. Of course he would be offended.

He only sneered in response and finished his breakfast. "I'll go clean up. Be ready to leave in half an hour."

"I think I want to go alone."

His face hardened. "Absolutely not. Those men were after me because of the land transaction. I'm not letting you go out there alone."

His words made her body freeze in horror. Had she led the men to Rafe? Before she could ask, he had already disappeared, leaving her no chance but to do as she was told, again. And damn if she wasn't starting to find it a turn-on.

Rafe drove an old Land Rover, not a car Charly had expected a businessman would drive. But it was perfect for the rough, outdoorsy wolf-shifter, although she imagined the bike would suit him even better. He was relaxed behind the wheel and he drove in a calm and unhurried manner, not at all aggravated by the London traffic. It made her feel safe.

It was amazing how he constantly managed to do that, even now that they were clearly at odds. They had barely spoken since getting in the car. "Didn't you say shifters are dangerous?" she voiced the logical conclusion of her thought. Someone so dangerous shouldn't be able to make her feel safe.

If he was surprised by the out of the blue question, he didn't show it. "Only in animal form," he answered stiffly, still not relenting. "And even then never to those we consider ours."

"Well, I'm not yours," she pointed out, but he just snorted.

"Of course you are."

That was rich. "You said humans won't do for you."

He sighed and there was a visible relenting to his demeanour, indicating that his anger was subsiding. "It's not that simple. Shifters are in great part creatures of instinct. Even in human form our beasts dictate much of our actions, especially those having to do with emotions."

She was fascinated despite herself. "What does that mean?"

"It means that I, the man, base my decision of not dating humans on reason, whereas for my wolf it is an emotional decision. Its emotions have the power to override my reasoning, so when my wolf makes up its mind about a woman, I have no choice but to follow."

"And you're saying your wolf doesn't want me?" It hadn't even occurred to her that she might be dealing with a person whose thought process wasn't like her own.

He looked aggravated. "Not quite. It has decided you are ours to protect, so it's no use for me to pretend otherwise. And no use for you to fight it either," he added with a pointed look, indicating he knew her well enough to guess that she would try.

She wasn't sure she liked that. It was difficult enough to be around him knowing that once they gave in to their sexual attraction, he would be gone forever. Now he was saying that he might not be going anywhere after all, but still wouldn't consider being with her. "Well, that ... sucks."

"Yeah."

She didn't want him to notice how upset she was so she turned to see how Bob was faring in the spacious booth of the big four-wheel-drive. He observed the traffic for a while before settling down and falling asleep. Life was easy when you were a dog.

Since she couldn't stay quiet for the whole ride, she turned back to him and brought up the reason for their little trip. "We never went through the papers last night," she reminded him. He turned to smile at her, clearly grateful for the change of topic.

"No, but I skimmed through some of your notes. Midsomer murders, huh?"

She almost blushed. She tended to write down every idea she got, just so she wouldn't limit her thinking, but usually she was the only one who saw the rough cuts. "It was just a thought." But that got them talking about TV and movies, and to her relief, the mood remained light. It turned out that they liked many of the same TV series and movies too, which actually upset her a little. They were suited on so many levels yet nothing would come of it. Would she ever find a man as great as Raphael Green? Unlikely. So was she doomed to spend her life alone? Why couldn't he understand that for her even the short life spent together would be better than spending it apart?

Once they got on the A24, it was an easy ride to the village of Betchworth, on the outskirts of which Rafe's company had been buying land. It was a typical English country parish, so small that one barely noticed it before the settlement gave way to fields again, the houses built on both sides of the narrow road that ran through it following some medieval path. Slightly sleepy, it had all the trappings of a picturesque tourist attraction—a church with Saxon origins and thatched cottages—without the actual tourists in sight. She could understand why someone wouldn't want rich commuters to move in.

Though not to the extent that she would have condoned the actions taken to prevent Greenwood Construction from building here. "Let's stop by the pub and ask around," she suggested.

He gave her an amused look. "Poke our muzzles in where they don't belong?"

The reminder of the attack made her shiver, but she just nodded. "Yes. This is a small place. I bet everyone knows who it is who doesn't want you here."

"But in a small place like this, they're not going to tell it to outsiders," he pointed out, and she knew he was right.

"Especially if the entire village is working against you. We'll just have to be cunning."

The only pub was in the middle of the village, a genuine country place untouched by fashionable designers and their quest to make things look 'authentic.' It was a whitewashed brick building that dated back centuries, with a slate-roof and a definitely old sign of a Bull hanging over the door. Inside, everything was genuine 1970s: practical, easy to maintain, and very ugly. Only the bar was old, a mahogany and brass monstrosity that ran the length of one side of the taproom. It was worn from use, but obviously well taken care of.

It wasn't lunchtime yet, but since it was Saturday a few people were gathered there already, perhaps waiting for the only bus to the nearby town or something. She wasn't exactly familiar with the country life.

Conversation halted when they entered, and everyone turned to stare at them. She had dressed in what she thought were practical clothes for a country sojourn: jeans, a classical Barbour wax coat, and riding boots. Rafe's clothing was similar, except he was wearing hiking boots, but he had actually used his clothes regularly and so looked like he belonged. She looked like what she was, a city dweller.

She ignored the raised eyebrows and silent glances and just gave everyone a friendly smile. "Hello. I was wondering if someone could help me and my husband," she chirped like some featherbrained socialite. "He's very much into angling, you see, and we found this amazing creek when we were driving around. But now we can't find anyone to ask if he can fish there." She didn't dare look at Rafe to see how he reacted to her new persona or his status as her husband. At least he wasn't laughing aloud.

Silence met her question, but she was undeterred. During her pupillage in a barrister's chamber, she had often fished for information under some assumed persona. She walked to the bar where a potbellied middle-aged man with a receding hairline was polishing glasses. She leaned against the bar and felt Rafe at her back, pressing lightly against her, lending credence to her claim that they were married. Or taking advantage of it, as he placed a kiss at her temple. It was very distracting and it took a moment for her to get back to her role. He wasn't similarly affected and he ordered them lager while she gathered her wits. She didn't actually like the taste of it, but it was all for the cause.

She smiled again. "Perhaps you, as the landlord of this fine establishment, are the most knowledgeable about these things," she flattered shamelessly. Behind her, Rafe snorted silently and she resisted an urge to elbow him.

The landlord frowned and she feared she would actually have to resort to batting her eyelashes. She wasn't above using feminine wiles when necessary—had used a couple of times, even in court—but she feared she was overacting as it was.

He harrumphed. "Yes, well, there's a bit of confusion about the ownership of that creek. But there's no fish in it anyway, so there's no need to find the owner."

There went that theory then.

Her shoulders slumped, and Rafe took over. "Oh, it's not the fish, it's the scenery and the atmosphere of the place," he said affably. "Are you sure you couldn't find out?" As he spoke, he handed a note to the landlord, presumably to pay for the drinks, but he made a small gesture to indicate that the man could keep the rest. Expensive lager, if she saw the denomination correctly.

The landlord took the money swiftly. "I think there's someone who knows. But he won't be here until in the afternoon. You should come back then."

They thanked him, took their drinks to a table nearest to the window overlooking the road, and spent a few futile minutes trying to engage locals into a conversation. Apparently, the jolly old countryside didn't exist anymore. Frustrated, they didn't finish their drinks but left, telling the landlord they would definitely be back that afternoon after checking the creek again.

"That didn't go well," she sighed once they were back in the car. Bob hadn't woken up the whole time they were away and was still in the car, even though they had left the back flap open. She contemplated taking him for a walk and engaging locals in conversation over its cuddly form, but she didn't want to wake him up. And there weren't any locals about.

Rafe smiled, his amusement for her little act clear on his face. "I wouldn't say that. There might actually be someone meeting us when we return. In the meanwhile, we might as well go to see the place ourselves."

As they wove through narrow country lanes to their destination, he told her about his clan. "Greenwood clan is the largest wolf clan and one of the most important shifter clans in the greater London area. Only a leopard clan in Greenwich is more important than us."

She listened, fascinated. She visited the beautiful Greenwich often, but it had never occurred to her that shifters lived there. Two-natureds simply weren't something she even considered as part of her everyday life.

"There are smaller predatory clans in London that are influential too, but they tend to squabble with each other, which prevents them from rising to true greatness."

The fight from the previous night rose vividly to her mind and she turned to look at him. "Is it always so violent among shifters?"

His face turned grim. "Surprisingly seldom. There are rules governing the interaction between individual shifters and clans that keep things civilised. No. Yesterday was a hired hit."

She felt queasy. "Because of my investigation?" She tried to remember who she had talked to, but they had all been nameless clerks.

He reached out a hand and squeezed her arm reassuringly. "No, it was for buying the land in the first place."

"So there are shifters in that village who don't want you there?" She had only considered human operators, but now a whole variety of possibilities was opening up for her investigation.

"That's just it. There aren't." He sounded frustrated.

She mulled over this new information for a few moments. "Is it widely known that your company is owned by shifters?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, humans are, in general, prejudiced against your kind, but most of the time we simply ignore you. But with the debates going on in the Parliament, your existence has been brought to the fore again. Perhaps the villagers fear that there will be shifters moving into the new houses and they don't want that."

He nodded. "That's a very good possibility, and would explain the timing of the attack too. But would they hire shifters to do their dirty work if they dislike us so much?"

"Who else? Humans definitely wouldn't be able to take you down." Not without a weapon of some kind, anyway. The thought made shivers run down her spine.

He acknowledged it with a smug grin. He pulled over by the road next to an old meadow that had been left to grow wild. They were in the middle of nowhere, the nearest farmhouses only small dots in the distance. They exited the car and released Bob, letting him run free, and he took a full advantage of the opportunity, disappearing into the long grass with happy barks.

They let themselves into the meadow through a broken gate, from which an overgrown footpath led towards a small crop of woods. The creek ran through the woods to a small lake a little farther away.

"We'll be building four or five cottage-style houses on both sides of the creek," he explained as they went. "They'll be large and expensive, with enough space around each house to provide privacy, and with great views over that lake." He gestured towards the distant glimmer of water. "So far the farmers have cooperated nicely. They are old and haven't had anyone to continue the farming. It's the last piece of land, the one with the creek and the forest, that's been troublesome."

She had studied the maps, but it was much better seeing the real thing. "It's beautiful here," she sighed, taking in the undulating meadows around the small lake and the woods, spectacular in the red and gold colours of autumn.

"Yes, it is," he said, but when she turned to look at him, he wasn't watching the scenery but her. Her heart missed a beat. Why did he look her like that if he didn't want her?

She cleared her throat, suddenly hot all over despite the crisp October weather. "I'm guessing you're in a great hurry to start building," she said, stubbornly continuing with the topic. She wouldn't give him anything of herself if he didn't want everything.

He flashed his wolfish grin. "When you live long enough, you know you can afford to wait."

She snorted. "You're what, all of thirty-five to my thirty-two?"

"Try closer to a hundred and thirty-five." Her stunned face made him laugh aloud in delight. "Surprise."

She had known that the two-natureds were long-living, but it hadn't even occurred to her that he might be so old. Meeting someone who had actually lived through the previous century felt incredible. The history he had experienced, the changes he had witnessed. The women he had been with...

A surge of jealousy coursed through her and she decided it was best not to think about his past at all. Then another thought hit her, self-evident now that she had been made to expand her horizons. "I wonder if the owner of the land is still alive."

# Chapter Eleven

"What do you mean?" Rafe studied his beautiful woman, mesmerised. Her dark eyes were shining in excitement with the insight she had just had. He tried to summon back some of the indignant anger he had felt the night before that had allowed him to walk away from her, but it was all gone. She wasn't in this only to use him; she was genuinely interested in him. And what was more, she still seemed to be interested in more than just sex.

Too bad that was all he had to offer her.

Her wonderful black hair was pulled back into a ponytail today, but a few wisps had escaped, framing her face perfectly. He didn't even try to resist the temptation; he reached out and pushed a lock behind her ear.

A faint blush crept onto her face, which he found adorable. He could smell her arousal building and his body responded immediately. "Stop distracting me," she protested weakly when he took a step closer.

"You find me distracting?" He leaned in so that his lips almost touched hers, and when she didn't pull back, he took it as an invitation to kiss her.

Without the adrenaline rush he'd felt before their previous kisses, he could savour her taste better and study the feel of her as he pulled her against him. Tall as she was, their bodies touched all the way, and he didn't have to lift her to properly kiss her.

He did it anyway. Placing his hands under her buttocks, he pulled her hips firmly against his. The sweet pain of her body pressing against his erection made him deepen the kiss until they were both out of breath. He needed to have her, right now, in the car or outside in the cool October air; he didn't care where.

But he wasn't given a chance to make the choice.

A shot rang out, the sound reverberating so loudly in the silence of the meadows that it cut through his aroused stupor. He jumped to action so fast that Charly didn't have time to react before he had pushed her under him, hiding them both in the long grass. He released his aura and his wolf stretched out of his back to scent the air above them. Another shot whirled past where they had stood only a second before.

"What are you doing," she protested, trying to push him off her.

"Shh. Someone is shooting at us." She froze underneath him and he could smell her fear, the arousal gone. He dug into his pocket for the car keys. "Take these and crawl back to the car. And this time, stay there." It was a command, but he let her see the worry in his eyes and she nodded and took the keys.

He waited only to see her halfway up the path, briefly distracted by the shape of her butt as she advanced on her belly, then he shed his clothes as fast as he could in the awkward crouched position. Naked, he turned to look at her once again and saw that she had paused to watch him. He could have urged her on, but he knew she wanted to see this and so he let her.

The shift was fast, urgency and the nearness of the full moon speeding up the process. His wolf aura grew to its full size, something she couldn't see, covering his body and then growing beyond its limits. Then the image simply filled from the inside outwards, the wolf in him coming out. It hurt, but not much, as his human half took the backseat at the same time, hiding within the wolf.

In a matter of moments, the wolf was standing on the footpath. They shook themselves to adjust their fur and then they shot a glance at their female. They didn't like how she hadn't moved so they snarled to make her know she should go. She nodded, not looking as frightened as they had thought she would, which pleased them. Then they turned around to head towards the direction they had smelled the attack coming from, staying low in the long grass.

A smell of dog made them pause. The black canine was following them, crawling too. They growled and the dog paused, but when they moved on, he followed again. Telepathy didn't work between shifters and natural animals, but there were other ways to communicate. It took some effort to make Bob understand them, but finally the dog turned around and headed after Charly, eager to fulfil the command he had been given: protect her.

It took them a while to reach the place from where the shots had come from, but the human was already gone. There were footprints and a good scent trail to follow, but the wolf and the man agreed. They had to return to protect their female. The shooter might be heading to her already.

Ten minutes later, he was back in human form and clothed. He made a quick call to Jamie. The attack infuriated his brother, and he immediately ordered Kieran, their best tracker, to study the place. Then he returned to the car, walking low just in case the shooter still had them in his sights.

Charly was crouching on the front seat with Bob, her arms wrapped around him to press him low too. She smiled, relieved, when she saw him and would have got out of the car if he hadn't indicated that she should stay put. He moved Bob to the back before getting in the car, where he was instantly pulled into a tight embrace. He revelled in it for a moment. She definitely cared for him. "I was worried," she explained unnecessarily.

He gave her a quick kiss, not wanting to risk anything more thorough before he got her to safety. Starting the car, he told her what he had found. "It was a human, so there's a good chance it was the man we're looking for." It wasn't anyone from the pub, which was what he had suspected, but someone there had probably directed the shooter after them. Had they guessed who he was, or were they that hostile towards everyone asking about the creek?

She looked shaken still, so he searched his mind for something with which to distract her that didn't involve kissing her. If the previous rushes of lust were anything to go by, they would end up naked even before he had the car pulled over.

"So what revelation did you have before I became all distracting?"

It took her a moment to remember what they had been talking about, but then she smiled the same satisfied smile. "The person behind this was able to fake his ownership of the land because there are no recorded owners for it after 1783, when it was sold. There was no mention of it being sold or inherited since then, no matter how close I looked. But it occurred to me that there wouldn't be if the same person owned the land still. So methinks it is a shifter."

He smiled too, more because she was looking so happy. "Of course. Although, it can't be a shifter, because we would know about it. But it does confirm that humans are behind this. They would have tried to find the owner and made the same conclusion than you did when they couldn't find any mention of them after the last sale. It would never occur to humans that the same person would still own it. So who was it that bought the land back then?"

"Someone called Alexander Hamilton."

He burst out laughing. "Foley. Bloody vampires. I should have known."

Charly's learning curve about the two-natured people clearly hadn't peaked yet. "Vampires?"

Rafe grinned at her, still full of mirth. "What, you hang out with a shifter, but you don't believe vampires exist?"

She had seldom resented her upbringing this much. "Of course I know they exist. It's just that by insisting that I only hang out with humans, my parents didn't prepare me for the reality of our society at all."

"Well, if it's any consolation, vampires hold themselves to be above society too." He got amused again. "Or, at least, this particular vampire does."

"So who is he then?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Alexander Hamilton, Lord Foley, is the most important, powerful, and dangerous vampire in the country, if not the whole world. He's the leader of the Crimson Circle."

It sounded like a secret society, so she wasn't embarrassed that she hadn't heard about it before. "And that would be?"

"It's a secretive organisation of elite vampire warriors. It was founded in France during the first Crusade to protect all two-natureds against humans, but these days they concentrate solely on defending vampires against their own enemies. And luckily for us, their base of operations is in Epsom too."

She hadn't been far off with the secret society notion then. "I take it that people like him don't exactly grant audiences."

He nodded. "Not just to anyone. But since our clan has lived close to the Circle Manor for centuries, we've established a working relationship."

"Saves time in diplomacy," she remarked dryly.

He laughed. "Exactly. But we still can't simply march in there. Jamie has to handle this." When she lifted her brows questioningly, he continued. "He's my brother and the leader of our clan."

She would get to meet the family. A nervous flutter went through her.

They didn't drive to Epsom proper but to the countryside surrounding it, along ever narrowing lanes, until they came to a long, old stone wall that clearly marked the boundaries of a larger estate. There was a modern electric gate in the wall, and a guard checked their identities before allowing them to drive through onto a private lane that continued for two more kilometres before they reached the Greenwood Manor.

She stared at the beautiful building in awe. It was a three stories high, c-shaped Queen Anne style redbrick with white trimmings in its corners and around its many windows. A wide sweep of steps led to the front door from a formal courtyard.

To her disappointment, he didn't drive to the front door but continued to a low building a little away from the house that must have been a stable at one time, but which was now a garage. They got out and he put Bob on a leash before leading them to a side entrance. "Dogs don't react well to having this many shifters around," he explained.

"Is this your ancestral home?" Her family was third generation wealthy, which impressed her mother greatly, but they couldn't lay claim to a property like this.

He smiled at her. "After a fashion. My father had it built for the clan in the early eighteenth century, but my family had been running the clan even before that, and we've always lived here."

Of course, other members of the family would be long-living too. "Is he still around?"

His face got serious. "No, he died in the Second World War."

"I'm sorry."

"Thank you." He sounded grateful for her condolences, even though the loss had happened seventy years ago. He hadn't lied when he'd said that when you lived long you had time to mourn longer too. Perhaps she should reconsider her need to try to force him into that position.

The side door opened to a huge kitchen that had been remodelled recently and was filled with modern appliances that fit surprisingly well with the old surroundings. It was full of hustle and bustle, and judging by the amount of food, the staff was preparing for a party of some kind. "The full moon feast," he explained her, snatching a couple of pastries from a cooling rack as he passed it, evading the swat the cook served him with a laugh. "It's my lunch," he said to the round woman, who immediately promised to make them something proper to eat.

"How many people are coming to your feast?" she asked as they exited the kitchen, still marvelling at all the food.

"The entire clan, some sixty people, including children yet unable to shift." She nodded, glad that she knew at least something about shifters: the first shift happened around the time they hit puberty. "Tonight we're also celebrating a cub who made her first shift a couple of days ago."

That didn't sound like a teenager. "She's a cub?" she asked, amused, thinking about the human teenagers who all wanted to be treated like adults.

He smiled too. "When you live as long as we do, childhood stretches longer too. And although the human half is growing up already, the wolf is truly only a cub. A shifter has to learn everything anew in their second form, so it's convenient that the beast emerges as a cub at first. They cause less damage to themselves and the environment that way."

"So when do they stop being cubs?" The topic fascinated her. Shifter life was so alien to her.

"They stay cubs for quite a long time, actually. The human half is over twenty before the wolf is mature, and closer to thirty before they start thinking about mating."

He led her and Bob through a maze of corridors towards the other end of the house, and she studied everything with great interest. The interior matched the outside. The walls had dark hardwood panelling and the wooden floors were covered with well-worn runners. The corridors, and the few rooms she got a glimpse into, were decorated with antique furniture that were a mismatch of styles from centuries past, but everything had a lived-in feeling to it. This was a home, not a museum.

Then they passed through a section of the house that had a more polished feel to it and she guessed it was the official side, where the clan business was conducted. "How many people live here?"

"All the unmarried males live in the manor, ten at the moment besides me and my brother. And Harry, of course. For the married, we have family cottages around the estate. Unmarried girls live with their families unless they move out on their own. They can do that these days," he added with mock horror.

She smiled. She wondered briefly who Harry was to merit a special mention, but before she had a chance to ask they arrived at their destination, a pair of narrow doors. Rafe gave the wooden pane a quick knock, but if there was an answer, she didn't hear it. He opened the doors and they entered into a very traditional, masculine study with heavy furniture of gleaming hardwood and antique leather. There was a fire crackling in an open fireplace on the right to banish the dampness, ceiling-high bookshelves with glass doors full of books to the left, and at the other end, by the French windows that opened to a huge park, sat a big desk.

Seated behind the desk was a man who was a carbon copy of Rafe, only his colouring was fairer and he was a bit more heavily built, with steely muscles. He got up when they entered, rounded the desk to Rafe, and pulled him into a hug as if they hadn't seen each other in ages. She found that closeness almost as alien as everything else about shifters that she'd learned so far. There had been no hugs in her family. Rafe answered the embrace with ease, so it was probably normal behaviour here. To her surprise, she found herself envious of it.

Close up, she could detect a couple more differences in the other man. His eyes were whisky instead of blue, and there were a few more lines around his eyes when he smiled at Rafe. Then he turned his eyes at her and she had to struggle to meet them. The power in his gaze seemed almost physical. He cocked a wheat-blond brow and suddenly she couldn't take it anymore. She simply had to avert her eyes.

Rafe laughed. "I told you she's strong. Jamie, meet Charlotte Thornton. Charly, this is my brother, James Green, the leader of Greenwood clan and the toughest alpha in the country. Don't feel bad that you couldn't meet his gaze. Humans don't normally do half as well as you did."

Jamie smiled too, and when she looked at him again she was able to meet his eyes. She felt like she had been tested. She didn't know if she had passed the test, but she refused to be cowed. She straightened her spine and Jamie nodded, as if approving. Then he greeted Bob with a rub behind his ears, the dog definitely subdued by his presence, before turning to Rafe.

"Are you all right? Kieran called and said he got the scent. He'll call when he's tracked his prey."

"We're fine, but we need your help with another matter," Rafe told his brother. "Charly tracked the owner of the land, and you'll never guess who it is." Jamie cocked his brow again, in question this time, and Rafe smiled. "Foley."

Jamie blinked once. Then, like Rafe earlier, he burst out laughing. "Those poor sods in the village won't know what hit them when he learns about this. Mind you," he continued more sober once he had laughed enough, "it rubs me the wrong way to let the bloodsuckers do our dirty work."

Rafe nodded. "Let's worry about that when we find out who's behind this. Right now, we need to set a meeting with him."

Jamie smiled, the expression as wolfish as Rafe's. "Leave it to me."

# Chapter Twelve

They left Jamie to his negotiations with vampires, and Bob to sleep on a rug by the fireplace. Not even an alpha wolf-shifter fazed Bob for long. They headed to the breakfast room at the back of the house near the kitchen, a cheery room decorated in yellow that enjoyed daylight most of the day, that feature still as important as it had been when the house was built, even with modern electricity. Most of the space was taken up by a long oaken table that seated twenty, the maximum number of clan members that could be in residence at one time. In contrast, the huge dining room in the west wing had room for the entire clan to sit down together, and then some. Floor to ceiling windows offered a beautiful view over the park and, opposite them, a long side-table was laden with platters of food. Since there would be a feast that evening, lunch was served cold, but Rafe was hungry and food was food.

Lunch was never formal in the house. There were already three men at the table enjoying their meal, and the rest would drop in before long. Food was a serious matter to them and they wouldn't have paused for more than a nod at Rafe if they hadn't noticed Charly by his side. One by one, they ceased eating, put down their utensils, and straightened their spines in curious bewilderment. They then remembered that they actually had manners and got up, their chairs scraping against the wooden floor. All their wolves peeked out too, sniffing the air with interest.

Rafe grinned at them. "At ease, boys. This is Charlotte Thornton, the solicitor I hired for the Betchworth case." Then he turned to Charly. "These are some of the unmarried males living in the house. Soldiers, mostly."

She lifted her expressive black brows. "Soldiers?"

He shrugged. "Shifters aren't exactly universally liked. We've had to adopt practices that keep our cubs safe."

She nodded at him in understanding before turning to smile at the blokes. It was a polite smile, but he got an overwhelming urge to step between her and the men so that they couldn't gawp at her. She was _his_.

Matt, the oldest of the men present, noticed his tension. If Rafe's possessive behaviour amused him, considering Rafe had never shown such tendencies before, he didn't let it show. He just nodded at Charly, keeping his body language neutral and his wolf deferent so as not to agitate Rafe; his ability to read situations was one of the reasons he was high up in the clan hierarchy. Rafe was glad that Matt understood him so well. The new situation he found himself in was unsettling and he didn't need additional provocation.

Matt realised too, that Rafe did not intend to introduce the men to her. "How do you do, Miss Thornton. I'm Matthew Collins, but you can call me Matt. These two are Jonathan and Kenneth." The two younger men were barely out of their adolescence with their fifty odd years apiece, although they looked about twenty. Nate and Ken nodded too, but they weren't quite as good at hiding their curiosity as Matt was, and they studied Charly with eager smiles on their faces. Human females weren't invited to a lunch in the manor all that often, and not once since Jamie's divorce.

Controlling his urge to snarl at the men for daring to cast their eyes at his woman, Rafe guided her to the side table to fill their plates before taking seats at the opposite end of the long table from the others.

Nate frowned. "She doesn't smell scared. Why are you sitting over there?"

Ken, who was obviously faster to pick up on clues, cuffed him at the back of his head. "Twat." Then he flashed Charly a smile. "Please, ignore my friend," he drawled. "He was raised by wolves."

She burst out laughing and, delighted with his success, Ken spent the rest of the meal trying to amuse her with silly anecdotes about shifter life. She responded with ease, teasing the men in return, making Rafe both delighted and aggravated. He liked that she wasn't scared or appalled by his people, but he didn't want her to smile at anyone but him. Recognising the dangerously possessive thought pattern, he didn't intervene like he wanted to. But he didn't enjoy the meal as much as usual.

A timely arrival by Kieran saved him from doing anything stupid, like throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her to his bedroom and locking her there—with him in there too, of course. Kieran was a few years younger than him and looked about thirty, like most adult shifters. Tall and lithe, his physique was ideal for the stealth needed for tracking, even if his auburn hair tended to be noticeable no matter how well he hid himself.

"Lost the bastard," he said upon seeing Rafe at the table. If he found Charly's presence curious, he didn't react in any way. "He got into a car. But I'm planning to go around the village tomorrow to try and recognise the scent there."

Rafe paused in his eating. "Good work. Any news about the wolves from yesterday?"

Kieran nodded, heading to gather a heaping plate of food. "The building security got the footage from the CCTV cameras at the car park. They didn't recognise their faces and neither did the local clan leaders, but they got the licence number for the car—rental."

What a surprise. "Will they be able to find out who hired the car?"

"I should think so, but not until Monday."

Since the strange wolves had dared to frighten Charly, Rafe wouldn't have wanted to wait even that long. But they would get the bastards eventually, and in the meantime he would keep her safe. With humans getting their guns out, it would be a challenge—unless he took up his earlier notion and locked her up. The thought held some potential. He smiled to himself as he imagined how well it would go down with Charly.

After lunch, Matt suggested he show Charly around the house, and to prove to himself that he was not overprotective or possessive of a human woman he had no intention of keeping Rafe let him. He stayed to have a chat with Jamie who had arrived in the breakfast room too. But when Nate and Ken showed signs of joining their tour, he put an end to it, sending the insolent whelps outside to help assemble tables for the banquet in the park.

Jamie waited until the room was empty before speaking. "So, she's the one then?" A smile quirked his mouth.

Rafe growled, aggravated. "I don't want her to be."

His outburst genuinely baffled Jamie. "Why not? She's amazing. Beautiful, intelligent, and strong. She'd make a wonderful spouse for you."

Of all people, Rafe would have thought Jamie understood him. "She's human."

"So? Your wolf doesn't seem to care."

It most definitely didn't. It hadn't put out the call yet, but only because Rafe had managed to prevent it. "She'll die."

Jamie gave him an admonishing look. "We all die eventually. You can't stop living because of that." Then he relented a little and leaned towards Rafe to emphasise his words. "And you cannot base your decisions on my life either. Yes, my wolf chose a human who wouldn't stay, but that doesn't mean it was a wrong choice. If I hadn't married her, I wouldn't have Harry now. You two can have children too, and they'll be there for you after she's gone."

His entire being froze. He wanted children and, as if a veil had been lifted that had been muddling his mind, he knew with certainty that he wanted them with Charly. His heart started beating faster for the idea. Perhaps having a human mate wouldn't be such a disaster after all.

"But what if she doesn't like living with wolves?"

Jamie shrugged. "Who says you have to live here? She's a city girl and might be happier living in London, so you could live there just as well. But she seemed to be getting along with our boys just fine."

His fears put in perspective by Jamie, Rafe's heart eased. He stopped struggling with his wolf and they were finally of one mind. They would make Charly theirs. "I'll talk to her after the feast. It'll give her a chance to experience that side of shifter life first."

Jamie nodded. "You do that. And may I say, brother, I'm happy for you."

"Thanks. But she's a stubborn woman. She might not want me after all." The thought felt like a knife through his heart now that he had made up his mind. If he couldn't have her, his life wouldn't be worth living.

Charly found her tour with Matt both informative and interesting. The house was beautiful and he had anecdotes to share about every room that made the place seem more alive, and shed light on shifter life too. Most of his stories were about Raphael and gave her a charming picture of the boy he had been, mischievous and a bit wilful, but above all, strong.

Matt began yet another anecdote, and she paused in her study of old portraits depicting clan members from past centuries. "This here window was once broken when Rafe and Jamie got into a wrestling match. Rafe had just learned to shift and he was full of himself, like a future alpha should be. Jamie's a century older, but he wasn't above teaching the cub a lesson. He won, of course, when Rafe crashed through the window. He would have fallen if Jamie hadn't been fast enough to grab his arm."

It was a three story drop to the ground from the east wing gallery and her heart went cold at the thought of what might have happened if Rafe had fallen. "Did Rafe learn to best his brother?"

Matt grinned. "Nah. He just learned to curb his temper."

As the brothers seemed very close, she concluded that both of them had matured since those days. "So Jamie is over two hundred years old?" She wondered how old Matt was then. He looked about forty, but there was a hint of grey in his dark brown hair at the temples. "Is he married?"

Her question made Matt look serious and he considered his words carefully, giving her a notion that he was about to divulge something important. "He got married about thirty years ago, but it didn't work out. She was human, you see, and she didn't like to be married to the entire clan with its leader. She left, leaving their cub with him. Jamie took it badly."

Matt's hazel eyes regarded her steadily and she understood what he meant. He knew that she was drawn to Rafe and wanted to warn her about it. And she understood better why Rafe wouldn't want a human spouse after an example like that. "Rafe told me he won't date humans," she assured him, although her heart seemed to break at the thought. But he shook his head.

"It's not that simple for us," he said, using the same words Rafe had when he'd tried to explain it. "His wolf has chosen you, and no matter how much he wants to resist, he won't be able to. He'll have to have you."

That wasn't what Rafe had told her. She didn't know which was worse, that he didn't want her because of what she was or that he was forced to want her despite knowing it would hurt him in the end. "What about love?"

Matt put his hand on her shoulder. "Shifter unions are about more than love. It's a deep understanding of belonging to each other. Love is a human emotion."

"But I am human." And she needed that emotion to be reciprocated. "So you're saying I shouldn't expect anything from him?"

"No, the opposite," he said, to her surprise. "You should understand that once he stakes his claim on you, he won't let you go. You'll be his for as long as you live and he'll expect you to answer with similar devotion. If you cannot do that, just walk away now. But if you have your love to offer, give it to him fully."

He had given her a lot to think about. "He hasn't actually said he wants me other than in his bed."

That made Matt laugh. "If you were a shifter, you would know that he intends to keep you."

Charly had always taken pride in her strength, but she wondered now if she was strong enough to love a man who didn't love her back and would keep her anyway. But would she be strong enough to walk away?

# Chapter Thirteen

Unlike shifters, most vampires didn't live in clans or other formally organised groups, but in smaller family units like humans. There had been a time when those families included many generations of its long-living members—a six-hundred-year-old great-great grandfather happily cohabiting with those barely into their _fulfilment_ and looking the same age too—but, as with humans, a separation of generations had happened at some point. Vampires had integrated more and more into human society, living in cities instead of isolated manors that were easier to defend. Humans weren't that great a threat to them anymore.

Crimson Circle was an exception to that trend. If not entirely secret, at least among the two-natured people, it was secretive and chose to keep itself apart from both human and two-natured societies. It couldn't isolate itself completely—for example, most of its wealth was generated by one of the top firms listed in the London Stock Exchange—but it didn't exactly advertise its existence or its involvement in the outside world either.

Crimson Circle consisted mostly of unmarried male warriors, some of whom had belonged to it for centuries. It didn't exist to defend the two-natureds against bigoted humans anymore. Not because there weren't any, but because they couldn't deal with humans the way they used to, by killing them. Instead, they concentrated on defending vampires against their mortal enemy, renegades. Renegade vampires were such a mighty adversary that the Circle hadn't eased its defensive stance against the outside world one iota.

It therefore spoke volumes about the good relations Jamie had with Lord Foley that only an hour later they were waiting in Jamie's car outside the gates of the Circle Manor, or what the vampires wanted the world to believe were the gates. Their real location was hidden with powerful magic.

"They are able to meet us during the day?"

Rafe turned to Charly, who was sitting with him in the backseat, happy to tell her anything about the two-natureds she wanted to know. "Circle warriors are extremely strong in Might, no one more so than Foley. But even the weakest vampires are strong enough to face the sun by the time they turn two hundred at the latest."

"So they don't burn to crisp?"

She was only half serious with the question so he laughed. "No, they don't burn. But they are dependent on Might; it activates them somehow, and because sunlight affects their connection with it, it forces the weak-ones into slumber during the day. That's why most vampires are secretive about their daytime location even after they have won the sun." All two-natureds were safety-oriented by necessity.

A car appeared before them as if out of thin air, driving through the magical barrier surrounding the manor, and Gabriel Hamilton, Foley's First Son, exited it. He was a huge man, at least two inches taller than Jamie and Rafe, and he had a steely physique he didn't bother covering with a jacket despite the cool day. The short sleeves of his T-shirt revealed bulging biceps, and circling his right bicep was a dark red tattoo of a thorn wreath, the emblem of the Crimson Circle. Like all vampires, he seemed ageless, somewhere between twenty-five and forty, depending on his mood. Rafe knew, however, that Gabe was born around the same time as Rafe's father in the early sixteenth century, which made him about five hundred years old.

Charly inhaled sharply when she saw him, and when he turned to look at her, she was staring at the bloodsucker in awe. Gabriel was a handsome bloke, something Rafe hadn't really paid attention to before. He had the classical, chiselled features of Greek statues, with long black hair tied at the nape of his neck. The look on his face was arrogant and cold, but women probably found that enticing.

Rafe growled, the sound startling everyone in the car, but he didn't care. That bastard had better keep his distance from Rafe's woman.

Jamie just smiled. "If you think Gabe is beautiful, wait till you see Alexander," he said. Then he exited the car to greet Gabriel. Rafe and Charly got out too and he stayed near her, his stance both possessive and protective. Now that he had made up his mind, he wasn't about to shy from claiming his woman before other males.

It didn't go unnoticed, but Gabe only sneered. "I have to check you for weapons," he said, deliberately provoking him. The jerk knew wolves had no use for knives or firearms. He just wanted to paw his female. No fucking way.

His possessiveness getting rapidly out of control, he growled again and stepped towards Gabe. "You will not touch her."

Gabe wasn't one to back down from a challenge, and so he took a step forward too. But before either of them had a chance to act on their hostility, Charly put herself between the two of them. "For goodness sake, Rafe, he's just doing his job."

His anger surged when he saw his female standing too close to the vampire. "You want his hands all over you, don't you?" he growled with menace, never taking his eyes off his enemy.

She wasn't intimidated by his anger at all. She walked to him, so close that her wonderful body almost pressed against his, and lifted a hand to rest on his cheek. Her cool touch was distracting, but not so much that he abandoned his watchful stance. She wouldn't give up. Her dark eyes sought his gaze and she held it steadily until his rage subsided, exactly as a true wolf's mate would do.

Agitated by the strength of his emotions, both possessiveness and rage, he pulled her into his arms and buried his face into her neck, breathing in her wonderful scent until he was calm again. He released her only reluctantly and shot a fierce look at Gabe. "Be quick about it then."

Jamie took a good hold of Rafe while the vampire patted Charly's body from shoulders to ankles with quick efficiency. Rafe didn't fight Jamie, but he growled the whole time, unable to keep the sound in. The moment Gabe was done with her, Rafe pulled her back to him again, needing to banish the vampire's scent from her. As he had known, Gabe didn't bother searching him or Jamie, having scanned them all with magic already, her included.

They filed into Gabe's black Audi and Gabe told them to hide their wolves. Then he handed them blindfolds and told them to put them on too. Rafe and Jamie obeyed, having done this numerous times before, but Charly stared at her blindfold, bemused. "Why do we need this? I can see the gate right there."

"Are you sure it's there?" Gabe asked, amused, baffling her even more. Rafe took her blindfold and helped her put it on.

"It's magic," he explained. She had a lot to learn about the world of Might, but he was willing to teach her. "Vampire's second nature is magic, and the Circle warriors have very strong second natures."

It was a ten-minute drive to the front door of the huge Elizabethan manor the warriors called their home. They took their blindfolds off and entered the manor past a warrior on guard duty, a vampire easily as scary-looking as Gabriel, but far less handsome. That didn't mean Rafe wasn't prepared to beat the shit out of him if he so much as glanced at Charly, but luckily for them all, the bloke kept his eyes to himself. Rolling his tense shoulders, he tried to calm down. Foley wasn't someone you went to this agitated.

Charly seemed impressed by the large foyer, a grand example of baroque pomp with dark ornamental hardwood panelling, limestone floor and gilded leather tapestries, but Gabe didn't give her time to admire the decor. He led them to a parlour on the ground floor where Foley normally received his guests, the only room in the manor Rafe had been to apart from a grand hall, another great example of opulent Elizabethan style, where he had attended a few dinners. The parlour was done in an entirely different style, with light colours and dainty Regency furniture that looked too flimsy to sit on. In deference to their host's nature, yellow satin curtains were drawn before the windows, although Rafe knew the vampire warlord didn't need to hide from the sun.

Foley met them mid-floor. He was almost as tall as Gabriel, but built more leanly, although not with less strength. Rafe didn't know his exact age, but he seemed to be in his mid-thirties. However, since he was Gabe's father, and there was no age limit to vampire fertility, he could be centuries old. He was dressed in expensive, low-riding blue jeans, and a white shirt with its top buttons left open and its sleeves rolled up, which made him look youthful and harmless. The image of harmlessness was enhanced by a heavy cane he was leaning against because of some age-old injury he hadn't bothered to heal properly. But no one paralleled him in Might and only a fool would underestimate him.

And Jamie had been right. The bastard was so handsome he was almost beautiful. He had the same refined features and dark colours as Gabe, but his hair had a short and fashionable cut. Even a scar that ran down the left side of his face from eyebrow to ear didn't diminish his manly beauty. It just twisted his features a little, making him look a bit cruel.

That was until he smiled and the full beauty of his face dazed everyone. "James and Raphael, welcome." He spoke with his natural, low and cultured voice, but Rafe knew he was capable of infusing it with magic too and _charming_ humans with mere words.

Then he turned to look at Charly and Rafe wanted to growl again, no matter how unwise it would be to challenge someone of Foley's stature. The only thing that kept the sound in was her hand wrapping around his arm, squeezing it tightly. Foley smiled at her warmly and executed a gallant bow that spoke of his upbringing in much older times. Even his modern clothing didn't make the gesture seem out of place.

"Miss Thornton, a pleasure."

Not since her childhood, when her father's mere voice could make her freeze in dread, had Charlotte been as frightened of a person as she was by Lord Foley. He was every bit as beautiful as Jamie had promised, but inhumanely so. His face reminded her of a hawk. It was intelligent, alert, and utterly cruel. Even with deliberate physical flaws, the perfection of his features and body was almost otherworldly, the essence of him so extraordinary that she would have known him for a vampire even though she had never met one before.

Having been around shifters the whole day, she was able to detect in Foley the energy that separated the two-natured people from humans, but there was nothing of the shifters' wild warmth in him. Even though he was perfectly nice to them, offering a mesmerising smile that befuddled her brain, the feel of his energy was cold. She knew vampires were just as alive as everyone else, but she could understand why people would believe them to be undead.

That didn't mean Foley wouldn't have been vibrant. On the contrary, he emanated such ancient power that even she was able to feel it. She knew she was in the presence of someone who had no trouble organising the world to his liking with a cold ruthlessness that didn't take outsiders into consideration. That was what frightened her. She had never felt so insignificant, and what was worse, she had no strength to fight the feeling either. All she could do was sit petrified on a Regency sofa, holding Rafe's hand tightly.

He was edgy as well, but not because of their host. He had been taken up by a possessive rage, all because she had admired Gabriel. Was that what Matt had meant by Rafe staking a claim on her? But she couldn't afford to be annoyed by his proprietary behaviour, for the fear of what might happen if he tried to challenge Foley too. So she set out to calm him by running her thumb slowly up and down his strong, wiry wrist. It seemed to work too, because his breathing eased and his muscles relaxed.

"What can I do for you?" Foley asked once they had all settled down with some tea, as if this was an ordinary society visit. Not that she was able to drink; she didn't even dare to lift the cup, her hands were shaking too badly. Jamie didn't have such problems and he explained the matter in a calm fashion whilst sipping his tea from the dainty china cup.

"Someone sold you a piece of my property?" The air seemed to grow heavy with Foley's anger. It felt as if he was sucking it towards him, making it hard for her to breathe.

"Yes," Jamie answered, unaffected by the tensing atmosphere. The vampire warlord might be more powerful and much scarier, but Jamie was here as an equal. "And we'd like to buy it from you, properly this time."

Foley cocked a brow, stretching the scar, which added to his cruel look. "And will you deal with the perpetrators too?"

Jamie shrugged, as if it was just the same to him. "We understand that they are humans. We can deal with them, unless you absolutely want the honour yourself?"

She was new to this world, but she understood that the matter was about who had the greater right to punish the humans. She should be appalled that they were taking matters into their own hands, should at least demand that legal action be taken, but their way seemed perfectly fine to her. Those people had attacked Rafe, twice, and they should pay for it.

Jamie and Foley spent a moment listing their grievances, and the vampire acknowledged that Jamie's clan had the stronger claim. But he wouldn't simply agree to sell the land. "We'll see about that," he said curtly, but at least the angry atmosphere had eased. "I'll need to think about it."

Jamie and Rafe got up, not pushing the issue, but she felt disappointed. Why couldn't they just settle the sale right now? Foley seemed to sense her impatience and he smiled. "We're old, Miss Thornton. We can take our time with this. The land will be there long after the humans are gone."

They took formal leaves that didn't seem at all out of place in the grand manor. When it was her turn, Foley took her hand and she could almost feel the energy of him grazing her skin. It was all she could do not to snatch her hand away. "Please visit us again, Miss Thornton. It's seldom that such a beautiful she-wolf graces my home."

She recoiled physically, her hand dropping from his after all. "I'm not a shifter. I'm human." Surely he was able to see that.

He regarded her with a great intensity that made her want to squirm. "Are you now?"

Wasn't she?

Of course she was. Foley simply had such power in his voice that she was ready to believe him. But her bones turned to liquid as the unsettling idea began to sink in. Rafe's heavy hand landed on her shoulder, pulling her towards him, offering her much needed support.

"She's very dominant, but that doesn't make her a shifter."

Foley ignored Rafe's denial and dealt her the worst blow of her adult life. "I scanned you when you entered this room. I can assure you that you're a wolf. Someone has simply blocked your second nature with magic." Her stunned expression made him cock his brow, as if he hadn't just turned her world upside down. "I take it you didn't know about this?"

Charly wanted to shake her head, both in answer to him and in denial of his words, but blood rushed from her face and the floor disappeared under her feet. Rafe caught her before she fell and helped her back to the sofa where he pressed her head gently between her knees. His hand rested on her shoulder again, offering comfort, but she could feel it shaking a bit. Was it in anger or in excitement? After all, if this was true, he wouldn't have to deal with wanting a human anymore.

"Who would do something this awful to you?" His angry growl was almost incomprehensible.

She knew the answer with a clarity that penetrated even her shock. "My parents, of course."

The hand holding her tightened in response. "If you're a shifter, it would explain the rages you used to have." She didn't have the energy to ask what he meant, but he continued. "Shifter children often become uncontrollable if they don't have a strong alpha presence."

"My father is pretty strong," she said feebly.

"But you didn't recognise him as your leader."

Rafe's words were said in calm confidence, but she had to wonder if a small girl could have made a character judgement that was self-evident to her as a grownup. "Of course you could," Rafe assured her when she voiced her thought. "I told you, we're very much creatures of instinct. It wasn't an intellectual judgement, but emotional."

All she knew was that she had been a wilful and difficult child, much more troublesome than her brother. Her parents had dragged her from one therapist to another until one of them had been able to help her. She couldn't remember what he had done, but after only one session she had calmed down. She had still been strong-willed, but at least the uncontrollable rages had subsided.

"Do you think they knew?"

"Most likely," Jamie's voice said somewhere above her. "It's not that rare for humans to have shifter children, but not all of them can accept it, though they usually bring the child to a clan to be brought up with their own kind. Better parents follow their child there too."

Her parents were so bigoted that they wouldn't even let her go to a mixed school. The shame of having a shifter child would have been unbearable to them.

"Can the block be removed?" Rafe asked, sounding both angry and hopeful.

"Absolutely," Foley answered with arrogant certainty. "But does she want it?"

"Why wouldn't she?" the wolves asked almost in unison, but she was with Foley on this. Yes, it would make life with Rafe possible, but she would lose her identity as human. It was an enormous change and shouldn't be taken lightly.

Foley listed the reasons for them, the wolves unwilling to entertain a possibility someone wouldn't want to be a shifter. "She's believed herself human for over thirty years, and so might not adjust to being a two-natured. Her body might not adjust to shifting at such an old age, and her wolf might not react well either when it's released after being held captive for so long. She might not be able to shift back to human."

Rafe began to massage her shoulders lightly, easing their tension and helping the dizziness to subside. "You know I will help you with this," he pleaded with her and although she believed him, she still had to shake her head.

"I have to think about it," she said. She felt his hand halt for a moment, making her heart stop. But then, as if wanting to prove her he wouldn't abandon her with this, he resumed the steady kneading.

"I can help you make the decision," Foley said, crouching before her. If his sore leg bothered him, he didn't let it show. She lifted her head to face him, but since Rafe's hand was still resting on her back, she didn't straighten up. "I can release your aura. You won't be able to shift, but it will allow you to study your second nature. Then, if you want to, you can return at any full moon when the Might is strong enough for greater magic and I'll remove the block." He scrutinised her. "Would you like me to do that?"

She didn't know what the aura meant, but she didn't hesitate. She could always have it blocked again. "Do it."

He placed long-fingered, cool hands on both sides of her face and looked her straight in the eyes. His black irises began to bleed out until no white was showing, and she stared at them, mesmerised, feeling like she was drowning in them. The pressure of magic increased around her, squeezing her body and making her fear it would crush her bones.

Just when she thought she wouldn't be able to endure the pressure anymore, the magic suddenly invaded her and she screamed in agony. Foley's magic searched inside her until it found what it was looking for and she felt something give under its pressure. There was no pain, only an overwhelming rush of sensations. That was the last thing she felt before blackness swallowed her.

# Chapter Fourteen

Raphael held the limp body of his woman in his arms, struggling with the need to attack Foley for causing her agony. Only his need to protect Charly prevented him from abandoning all reason. That, and Jamie's heavy hand on his shoulder, holding him fast. Shrugging off his brother's restraint, he pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms protectively around her, using her scent to calm him. When Foley tried to come closer, he growled.

Alexander was unfazed by his mood, even though a shifter protecting his mate was a formidable adversary even for him. "The aura should appear when she wakes up. It's the sudden onslaught of Might that caused her to pass out." Then he shook his head almost admiringly. "It's an ingenious piece of magic that blocks her second nature. It uses up all her natural Might reservoirs to keep it going so that the stronger she becomes, the stronger the block gets. I wonder who would be able to do such magic..." Frowning to himself, he turned around and headed out of the parlour, leaving Rafe and Jamie to deal with the unconscious woman by themselves.

It was small work to carry her outside where Gabe was waiting for them by his car. Soon enough they were back at Jamie's car and Rafe settled into the backseat with his precious charge. He could detect a faint scent of wolf in her now and it threatened to drive both man and wolf mad.

Back home, he left Jamie to explain the turn of events to clan members who gathered around the moment they stepped out of the car. He headed indoors and carried Charly to his bedroom where he laid her carefully down on his large bed. She hadn't stirred once the whole time and he was beginning to worry.

What if Foley was right? What if this was too much for her body to take? In addition to their naturally greater strength, shifters' bodies were put through a lot from an early age to ensure that once it was time for the cubs to shift for the first time, their bodies could take the strain. Her body was, for all intentions, human. What if she died when she tried to shift for the first time?

His entire being went cold. He could not lose her before they had even begun anything. He sat abruptly down on the bed, his legs no longer holding him, struggling with himself and with his wolf, staring at his beautiful woman as she slept. In the end, the decision wasn't difficult. He wouldn't force her to break the magic blocking her wolf. If they only had a few years together because she remained human, so be it. It was better than no time together at all, he understood that now.

After what seemed like an agonising eternity, she began to stir and he leaned closer to brush wisps of hair off her face. She opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times before they came to focus. Recognising him, she smiled, and his heart stopped beating for a moment before resuming a faster pace. Gods, but she was beautiful.

"Did I fall asleep?" she asked drowsily, stretching her hands languidly above her head. He wanted to tell her everything, the decision he had made, but she looked so adorably sexy that he simply had to kiss her. Her lips felt soft from sleep, and she answered eagerly, and their kiss soon got serious.

"Something like that," he answered when he finally came up for breath. There was no sign of her aura yet, but he didn't let that trouble him. He had wanted her from the beginning and he couldn't wait any longer to have her. "How are you feeling?"

She gave it some thought and then she smiled. "I feel great."

"Good." It was the only warning he gave before kissing her again, with serious intent this time. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her up, pressing her close. She put her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, all drowsiness gone from her actions. Arousal shot so fast from her delicious mouth to his, and down through him, he almost lost himself to the sensation. But this time they didn't have to fear interruption.

Breaking the kiss, he moved his mouth down her jawline to her slender throat, kissing it softly, firmly, arousing her in turn. With a sigh, she leaned her head sideways, giving him free access to do whatever he willed with that most vulnerable spot of her body. His wolf revelled in her unconsciously submissive gesture, but the man was in charge and he resisted the urge to sink his teeth into the fast-beating pulse at the base of her throat to mark her as his own. There would be time for that later.

She lifted her arms up and he pulled her jumper over her head, tossing it on the floor. The bra underneath was black lace, against which the white swell of her breasts stood in beautiful contrast. Unable to resist the temptation this time, he grazed the soft mounds with his teeth, and when she shivered in anticipation, he bit them lightly, first one and then the other.

She reached behind her to open the clasp and pulled the bra off, releasing her breasts for his proper admiration. He cupped them with his hands, marvelling at their fullness and weight on his palms, but she wouldn't let him hold them for long. Instead, she took his jumper by its waist and began to pull it up. "Off," she said impatiently when the garment got stuck in his belt buckle, and with a throaty laugh he pulled the jumper over his head for her.

She drew in a sharp breath at the sight of his bare chest. He wanted to keep touching her, but he let her run light fingers over his chest and the hair there, exploring his pectorals. His nipples hardened when she brushed over them and his tight abdominals stood out in sharp relief in his effort to control himself.

A satisfied smile spread on her lips as she studied his torso and he concentrated on watching her delight as her fingers wandered ever lower. They reached the waistline of his jeans, already stretching with his erection. She hesitated only briefly before pressing her hand firmly on him and it was his turn to inhale sharply.

She would have opened his trousers, but he halted her. "You first, baby." He pressed her back onto the bed, and although she made a little mewl in protest, she followed his urging easily enough. For a woman who claimed never to lose control, she was perfectly pliable, even eager to follow his lead.

He opened her jeans with slightly shaky fingers and pulled them off. He wanted to peel off the black lace panties too, but already the scent of her arousal was pushing him to conclusion too fast. He let them be and leaned over her instead. Cupping one breast with his large hand, he took the already taut nipple into his mouth and sucked deeply, causing her to arch towards his mouth with a moan. He kept sucking her breasts, first one and then the other, until her breathing grew ragged.

He was having trouble controlling his own breathing now. Her hands had resumed their wandering up and down his torso, occasionally grazing over his taut cock, still confined by his jeans. When she began to fumble them open, he let her, groaning in pleasure when his erection sprang free.

She made a small, delighted sound, and wrapped her fingers around him tightly, making his brain short-circuit. "Baby, if you want me to finish this properly, you'll have to let go." He found it difficult to breathe, his pleasure so intense, as she stroked him firmly.

A slow smile spread on her face, but she released him, contenting herself with looking at him as he shook off his jeans. Her admiring expression was enough to make him grow even bigger and he knew he didn't have much time left.

He pulled off her panties and then glided his hands back up along her beautiful legs, marvelling at their silky feel. She parted them for him and he brushed lightly over her curls, making her shiver. He cupped her properly and began to gently massage the soft folds between her legs with his fingers. Slowly, but with ever increasing pressure, he stroked her, wanting to bring her to the edge. Only when he sensed that she was near did he stop long enough to pull on a condom he'd hastily dug out from the drawer of his nightstand. Even that short delay threatened to bring him to his ruin.

Moving over her, he settled between her legs and settled at her entrance. She pulled him closer, wrapping her long legs around him. He kissed her, enjoying the ability to take her mouth even as he sank deep into her with one slow thrust.

She felt so good, like a tight glove around his hardness, and he was immediately lost to anything but pleasure. He wanted to take her fast and hard, but managed to slow down and keep a steady rhythm for long enough to feel her orgasm build again. Then he let all restraint go. He wrapped his arms around her waist to hold her tight, thrusting into her with abandon. Release flooded from him almost immediately, the satisfaction so powerful it nearly blinded him. Charly arched against him with a deep, satisfied moan, convulsing around him as pleasure shook her.

Utterly spent, he collapsed on her, unable to hold himself up anymore, but she didn't seem to mind his weight. She just wrapped her arms around him and held tight. They breathed heavily for a long time until he felt steady enough to roll off her on his side. He turned to smile at her and saw her smile the happy smile of a sated woman.

And then her wolf surfaced.

Her freak-out was instant and complete. "Get it off me, get it off," she shrieked, ineffectually swatting at the translucent wolf that had suddenly surged out of her chest. She tried to back away from it but the thing kept coming with her. Her back hit the headboard of the bed and she couldn't go further. Panic hit her and she began to sweat. She was trapped.

"Calm down," Rafe said, but she heard his voice as if through a metal tube, distant and thin. She began to thrash, trying to get the bedspread that was tangled around her legs off so that she could flee, but it was stuck. She started to hyperventilate.

" _Calm down_."

This time his command had a physical effect on her. It was as if he was able to influence her with his mere voice. She had no choice but to obey. He wrapped strong arms around her, pulling her against his warm chest, holding her so tightly she couldn't move. Unlike only a moment ago, it didn't make her feel trapped, it made her feel safe. She held her eyes closed tightly, not wanting to see the invader, fearing that the sight would cause her panic again.

He held her a long time, long after her breathing had steadied and her heart rate had returned to normal. He only eased his hold a bit so that she could lean more comfortably against him. He stroked her back slowly, murmuring calming words to her ear as if to a child—or an animal.

Tears started to fall down her face at the thought. First, only one or two, but soon she was crying in earnest, every pent-up emotion draining from her in big convulsive sobs. And all through that, he held her.

She couldn't remember the last time she had cried like this. Had she ever cried? Always in control of all her emotions, that's what she had to be. She had forgotten her rule and here she was, sobbing her heart out against the bare chest of the most wonderful man she had ever met.

Forcing her crying to cease, she took a deep breath and pulled away from his embrace. She felt cold without his arms around her, but she needed to make sure she was back in control, for him and for herself. There was a box of tissues on his nightstand and she reached for a wad of them and dried her eyes and blew her nose. She didn't want to look at him. What must he think of her?

"You fared better than I expected," he said calmly when she wouldn't speak.

That wasn't anything she had expected him to say. "What?"

"You gave me to understand that there would be severe consequences if you lost control," he said, almost admonishing, "but you came to heel pretty easily."

She risked a glance at him and saw him smile smugly for having managed to make her look. "What are you talking about? Surely a man doesn't want a woman to have a meltdown right after making love to her."

His smiled deepened and got more self-satisfied, but he had earned it. He had been amazing. "You surrendered your rigid control just fine in bed and nothing bad happened." She definitely had, with absolutely no fear, and she had been rewarded with the most incredible orgasm of her life—the first proper one with a man, thanks to her inability to let herself go before. "And when you did lose it, you obeyed your alpha perfectly and calmed down."

"My what?" she shrieked appalled.

He leaned towards her, a teasing glint in his blue eyes. "That's right, lady. You recognise me as your superior." The hell she did. Her face probably betrayed her indignant anger, because he started laughing. "Welcome to the world of shifters."

She sighed and dropped onto her back on the bed, pulling the bedspread over her to cover her nakedness. He settled next to her, lying on his side, his head propped against his hand. He didn't mind being naked. Yet another way in which shifters differed from humans. He had shed his clothes back at the field easily too before shifting. Was she expected to manage the same? And was she expected to submit to some wolf hierarchy, bowing to every man simply because he was physically stronger? She wouldn't scrape to her father or her boss, and she most definitely wouldn't scrape to anyone who didn't deserve it.

"I'm no one's inferior."

"No, you're not," he stated with such assurance that she felt instantly better. "You're a very dominant female. That's what attracted me to you in the first place." His words made her heart skip a beat. "But your wolf has to prove it to others too, should you choose to free it."

"So women have a prominent place in your hierarchy?" She preferred the idea of equality, but obviously shifters depended on someone stronger controlling them when needed. She herself had just now.

"Absolutely, although dominant women with an alpha streak like you are rare. Only my niece is that strong around here."

She nodded, assuming that any child of Jamie's would be strong. Then she noticed something. "Where did the wolf go?" Could she hope?

"I forced it back inside you. It was freaking you out. But you should let it out so that you can get to know it."

"What is it then?"

"The aura is a smaller replica of a shifter's beast, an expression of our second nature, an independent yet integral part of him or her. We all have one."

"Where's yours?"

"It's hiding within me too. It's best you meet only one wolf at a time. Is it communicating with you?"

She had no idea. She focused her mind and noticed an influx of sounds and especially scents that had been only a background noise while she had her meltdown. They were incredibly intense, and had probably contributed to her panic attack, but with a little concentration, she was able to discern between them. Rafe, especially, smelled mouth-wateringly good, his bare chest only inches from her face, but even unpleasant scents like sweat felt intriguing. What was truly curious was that none of it was causing her to have a migraine.

"You've had a shifter's sensitivity to scents, but you haven't been able to process them properly," he explained when she noted it aloud. If it was true, it was definitely a point for exploring this further. "It's the wolf that recognises the things that you sense."

Okay, time to jump off the cliff. "So how do I get it out?"

"Are you sure you want it?" He looked worried so she gave it a proper thought. She could actually sense that there was a sentient being sharing her consciousness now. It was a bit incoherent still, but she understood what it wanted perfectly.

"It wants out."

"Then just relax. It's easier to let it out than to force it to stay in. And don't worry. I'll put it back if it freaks you out again."

She had barely thought to relax when the aura surged out again. She didn't freak out, but she still stared at it uneasily. "I feel like my body's been invaded by an alien."

He laughed happily. "Sometimes the beast can make you feel like you're the alien."

She watched her wolf curiously as it studied its surroundings with distracting eagerness, conveying everything to her in an influx of thoughts and emotions. It had definitely wanted out. Knowing that it was its own entity, she could understand how it felt for having been incarcerated for decades. She felt everything it felt, the eagerness, the resentment, the happiness...

"It's a bit overwhelming."

He gave her a reassuring smile. "You'll learn to keep its thoughts and emotions from becoming too dominant."

She tried to process everything the wolf fed back to her, its delight and its anger. Rafe hadn't lied when he said they were creatures of emotions, but she wasn't sure she had the tools for handling them. No wonder he allowed his wolf to dictate who he loved.

After a while, the wolf calmed down enough for her to start her own observations. Its fur looked soft and it was black like her hair. Its eyes were black too, shiny buttons with which it studied the world with an incredibly intelligent look in them.

"I didn't know they were this intelligent," she noted.

"It's not human intelligence, but it has its own way of reasoning. And if yours is half as stubborn as mine, you definitely have to reason with it."

"How?"

"Once it calms down a bit, you realise you can talk with it in your mind. A bit like telepathy, but within your own head."

It sounded intriguing. She reached out to touch the wolf's nose, a little over a foot from her chest, and it snapped playfully at her fingers. In their holographic form, they passed right through, but she snatched her hand away anyway. Then she realised how silly that was and touched it again. It seemed to like that.

She sensed its joy for being free, a disconcerting feeling, as it translated to her joy. "I think it's trying to tell me that it's been aware of everything through me, but it just hasn't been able to communicate back." There was a familiarity to it too. "And I think I kind of remember it. Do little children have auras before they are able to shift?"

"Yes, little cubs. That's how we know. How old were you when it was blocked?" He asked it casually, but she sensed his anger none the same. Was the wolf helping her with that?

She put her hand on his chest to calm him and he pressed his palm over it, holding it fast against his steadily beating heart. "I was three or four, I think. My parents convinced me it had only been an imaginary friend." She suddenly remembered how desolate she had been for losing it. How could they do this to her and not even tell her about it afterwards? It would serve them right if she learned how to shift and did so in front of their friends. But even as she thought it she knew she wouldn't do it. She wasn't sure she would even bring it up with them. They didn't deserve to know how she felt.

"So how is it that my wolf is all grown up?" she asked, trying to banish unpleasant thoughts.

He understood how she felt and he pulled her against his chest. She feared the wolf would crush, but it only surged out from her side to her amazement. "It's grown with you. You are old enough for it." She hoped that it wouldn't be a problem if she chose to release the wolf properly. She hadn't made up her mind about it, although her wolf held it self-evident that she would. It was odd to have someone else thinking in her mind.

"Can I see yours now?" she asked, saucily, making him laugh. He sat up and a moment later a beautiful light grey wolf with startlingly blue eyes appeared on his chest. It surged forward, eager to get to know her wolf.

Her wolf studied his closely. "I think my wolf likes your wolf," she laughed, watching the auras sniff each other.

"Oh, I absolutely know my wolf likes yours," he murmured in a low voice, and when she lifted her gaze to him, he was staring at her, dazed.

# Chapter Fifteen

Rafe had thought he knew what the wolf's call meant. Turned out he had had no idea. No bloody idea at all. The emotion that took over him the moment his wolf met Charly's was so overwhelming, so complete, that he couldn't fathom it. He could only ride the crest of it, hoping that it would settle before he freaked her out again.

Studying her as she studied their wolves, he tried to make sense of this new certainty that had taken over him. He had already made up his mind to keep her, whether she accepted her wolf or not, although seeing her with her wolf made him really want her to choose the life as a shifter. And he knew the decision was based on love. He hadn't thought it was possible to fall in love with someone in only three days, but it had happened. He was displaying all the classic symptoms: his heartbeat quickened whenever she was near, he was planning their future together on her terms, and he was unable to imagine a world where she wouldn't be by his side.

The call took that fledgling love instantly to another level, from stargazing to a certainty that their relationship would work through thick and thin. That was the overwhelming part. There was no wavering, no second-guessing or need to put on brakes just in case they were advancing too fast. As far as he was concerned, the rest of their lives could start right now.

But as he watched her, he realised she wasn't feeling the same. She wasn't feeling the call. He tried to calm the panic the notion caused by reasoning that she was only getting to know her wolf and couldn't yet discern everything it conveyed to her, but it was excruciatingly difficult. He wanted to pull her into his arms and never let her go. Stepping back and giving her time to figure everything out wasn't exactly in his wolf's interests either, but that's what they had to do.

"So, are you feeling adventurous?"

She stopped studying her wolf long enough to glance at him and he felt a tinge of jealousy for being second place in her mind. "What do you have in mind?" Her smile was saucy enough to make him contemplate a change in his plans, but she needed other things more than sex.

"The full moon feast is in full swing out in the park. What better chance to study shifters as they are?" Even as he said it he realised he didn't want others near her, especially other males, but he managed to ignore that emotion as well. She needed this.

She hesitated. "What if I freak out again?"

"You won't," he said, with his most reassuring voice. "We already established that your wolf reacts to me as it should, and Jamie is even stronger. I'll be with you the whole time. Nothing bad will happen. And besides, everyone is used to new wolves, even if they are usually cubs. They won't think less of you even if you do lose it a bit."

He saw her inner struggle and understood the cause as well. She was used to being in control and the thought of losing it in front of witnesses frightened her. But she was strong and she nodded, making his heart swell in pride.

Half an hour—and a long shower with arousing studying of each other's bodies—later, they entered the park and headed straight towards the long tables laden with food to collect heaping plates for themselves. "I'm starving for some reason," she confessed, laughing.

"Shifters burn much more energy than humans," he explained, adding another piece of chicken to her plate despite her protests. She was too thin as it was, and with her body now using much more energy as the wolf took its share, she might waste away if he didn't take care of her.

The most riotous part of the feast, the shifting, was already over. Only the cubs remained in wolf form, running around the large park and the surrounding woods, unwilling to shift back. Their joyous behaviour was a far cry from the sulky teenagers most of them were in human form, and along with the children who were still unable to shift, they formed a boisterous group. Rafe and Charly paused to watch their antics, laughing when they managed to steal food from someone's plate.

Then Jamie approached them. He was Rafe's alpha and the only male stronger than him, so his wolf instantly considered him the biggest threat to his claim of Charly. Not since his youth had he felt so great a need to lash out and attack his brother. If she hadn't been standing close to him, calming him with her presence, he might have acted on the impulse.

Jamie recognised the signs and didn't come too close. But even the smile he gave Charly made Rafe growl, earning him an admonishing glance from her. "Welcome to Greenwood clan, Charlotte. I hope you'll consider us your clan whether you choose to unblock your wolf or not. You'll always have a place here."

She seemed touched by his words and she nodded, unable to speak. Rafe placed his free hand on her shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. "No one here will force you to unblock the wolf. We might want you to be one of us, but we also know it won't be easy. But we're here for you."

Now she had tears in her eyes. They caused wolf and man so much distress that he had to lean over and kiss them away. She gave him a watery smile. "I never used to cry this much before."

"The emotions will settle soon enough. Your wolf has three decades worth of them bottled up."

Nate, Ken, and Kieran, the unmated males she had met earlier, approached them next, but Rafe didn't allow them near, halting them with a snarl. They greeted her from afar, welcoming her. Rafe could see they wanted to tease him about her, but they wisely kept their words to themselves. There would be time enough for good-natured bantering at his expense when he wasn't so on edge.

But he couldn't lock her up, and if she were to become one of them, she would have to know about them. She was staring at all the auras in wonder, all of them different, like their human hosts, clearly eager to study them closer. So he steered her towards the mated females, judging them to be the most harmless of the lot.

The women were all very nice to Charly, giving her a warm welcome, but their auras had ideas of their own. Charly's wolf might have been newly released, but it was exactly as dominant as Rafe had thought, and all their females were submissive. Charly stared in dismay as her wolf snapped its teeth at every wolf they met, trying to establish its superiority to them and succeeding. "I'm usually much better behaved," she said, aghast, after her wolf had nipped yet another wolf on its muzzle, causing the other wolf to retreat.

"Don't worry," Helen, the middle-aged woman thus treated said, smiling. "We're all born to wolf hierarchy. We're used to this. Once your wolf has found its place, it'll behave better." It took some more convincing from her and the other women before Charly was able to relax. Their good-natured calmness was exactly what she needed, and little by little her wolf settled down too. Rafe smiled at Helen warmly, pleased that everything was going so well.

And then the trouble came calling.

Charly watched Rafe move to meet a leggy blonde in tight leather pants and a very low-cut top who had hailed him from across the yard. Shrieking in delight, the woman rushed to him and wrapped herself around him, pressing her ample breasts tightly against his chest, and the bastard hugged her back.

She had never been particularly jealous in her relationships, but there was no sign of that placidity. A deep rage surged through her, as uncontrollable as all her emotions since Rafe had come into her life. If she had doubted her feelings towards him, there was no second guessing anymore, her possessiveness so all-encompassing. Woman and wolf both agreed that he belonged to them and they didn't share.

_Ours_.

A growl rose from deep inside her, much lower than her normal voice, but the sound was so natural it didn't even startle her. She marched to the embracing pair. Her wolf surged forward in her chest, urging her to attack the intruder, and that was exactly what she did the moment the bitch unwrapped herself from Rafe.

Or at least her wolf did, the human half being a bit more civilized. It bit its holographic teeth tightly into the other wolf's muzzle, taking it by surprise. Her wolf had put other wolves to their places with mere nips, so she was satisfied, expecting the bitch to keel too.

It didn't happen.

"What the hell?"

The blonde's white wolf with amber eyes didn't wait for her, but attacked, trying to take Charly's wolf by its throat. And the woman wasn't far behind. A second later, both of her hands shifted to paws and she charged at Charly too.

The two women were surprisingly similarly built and equally tall, but the lean muscles in the stranger's arms indicated far greater strength than what Charly possessed, even without paws giving her the advantage. But Charly was beyond caring how much she might hurt. She had to get rid of the interloper.

Only, the fight never happened. Before the bitch had so much as swiped her paws at Charly, Rafe had thrown himself between them, breaking up the fight between the wolves as well. "Enough," he commanded sharply, his voice laden with such power that the wolves flinched and retreated. The other woman pressed her head down too, but only for a moment.

"The bitch attacked me," she growled, her eyes full of menace.

"I. Said. _Enough_." This time his low command froze both women. He waited a moment to make sure he was being obeyed, taking in the wolves' submissive stances. Then he turned to Charly and pulled her to him, wrapping his arm around her. She leaned against him, glad for the show of support. Her wolf believed they had won.

"Charly, please meet my niece, Harriet, Jamie's daughter. Harry, this is Charlotte Thornton, my mate."

The mysterious Harry froze for a heartbeat. Then her face melted into a smile that made her look a more delicate version of Jamie with long, wheat-blonde hair. But it was easy for Charly to believe they were father and daughter, even knowing how old Jamie was, because Harry looked to be her own age and Jamie seemed about forty. Then Harry pulled her into a hug, the change in her demeanour complete.

"Welcome to the family."

Charly stiffened for a heartbeat before relaxing into Harry's embrace. This was going too fast. It was one thing to be welcomed to the clan, but that Harry would assume Charly was family was too much. As if guessing she was about to baulk, or fearing she would freak out again, Rafe tightened his hold of her. To the outsiders it probably seemed like a warm embrace between lovers, but she knew he couldn't possibly have meant his words. He would have said something to her in private in that case. He had only made his claim to diffuse the tense situation.

The clan didn't doubt his words and they flocked in to congratulate them. She didn't want to embarrass him in front of his family and friends, so she just smiled and accepted the felicitations other clan members were offering them. Rafe accepted their well-wishes with pride, as if things were progressing in the usual fashion. Her wolf didn't question his announcement either.

But the human who was used to making decisions concerning her life found it overwhelming. A bit surreal even. Here she was with a man she barely knew, who claimed he would keep her for the rest of her life, without asking her opinion about it, and with a new entity inside her that seemed to agree with him. She felt like an outsider in her own life all of a sudden.

The sense of detachment followed her the rest of the night. Her face smiled and her mouth said nice things to people, and once her wolf calmed down she dared to approach people on her own even. But all the while she felt like it was someone else doing these things. She didn't recognise herself anymore.

It wasn't until the night was turning to morning that the feast dwindled down, children having left earlier, and everyone retired to bed. Rafe took her hand and led her to his bedroom, as if she belonged there. Part of her knew she did, his hand feeling perfect in hers, but she halted him at the door nonetheless.

"I don't think I can do this," she said, tiredness making her voice more curt than she intended.

He looked hurt and a bit angry too, but he nodded. "I understand you need to process everything on your own. You can have all the time you need. But you will sleep in my room. I'll find another place."

She wanted to tell him he could stay in his room as long as he didn't expect anything from her, but she was too tired so she just nodded and disappeared into the bathroom. When she emerged again, he was gone. She spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, arguing with her wolf who told her that driving their mate away was the biggest mistake of her life.

The human was beginning to agree.

# Chapter Sixteen

The next few days were incredibly straining for Charly. Rafe had been true to his word and had given her space. He'd driven her and Bob back to Jack's on Sunday afternoon, an awkward ride, as her rejection had put a strain on their earlier easy companionship. For a man who claimed to be her mate, he had given her up pretty easily, without so much as a kiss goodbye. He hadn't even stayed in town; he had driven back to Epsom, and she hadn't seen him since. He hadn't even called.

His absence made an enormous hole in her life, disproportional to how long they had known each other. But the feeling was real, even though she knew her wolf was multiplying her misery. At least she understood now how shifters' relationships were about more than love. They were about belonging together and completing each other in Might, as if the universe itself bound couples together. Love was just a sweetening—or a cause for suffering, as it was in this case.

But she and her wolf agreed on one thing. They would not go to him. It was their mate's duty to come and claim them. So she hadn't called him either, even though her wolf was driving her crazy and she could have used his help. As long as he had been near, her wolf had been fairly manageable, but without him she didn't have the tools for handling its demands.

It didn't like the humans around her, the scents or the sounds, even though they were exactly the same as before it had manifested. Everything irritated it, making her cross too, and she was exhausted for constantly struggling for control with it.

Had he known it would be this difficult for her to get accustomed to her wolf? In that case, wouldn't it have served his purpose better if he had stayed around and helped her process her new life, instead of giving her space to work it out herself? He did want her to become a shifter, didn't he?

She wasn't sure what she wanted. She knew she was strong enough to handle the mental side of becoming a non-human and face the possible discrimination because of it. Her own father had treated her like a second-class citizen and she had survived that. But the actual shifting scared her. She feared pain, but more importantly she feared losing control of her human side. What if she couldn't shift back? Rafe would be able to force her wolf to shift back to human, but she didn't want to count on him. She should learn how to handle the wolf herself.

Only, no matter what she told herself, she did need him. An incredible new world had opened for her. It tickled her to be part of this great secret and she would have wanted to share it with him. The tube was full of wonders in the mornings: a leopard-shifter in a pin-stripe suit heading to the City, sitting next to an unsuspecting human colleague, talking about closing figures in Asia; a gaggle of children in school uniforms, half of whom were fox cubs, bantering with a group from a different school, this one including non-predatory shifters like bunnies and deer; a nurse heading home from a nightshift who was most definitely a vampire, although she didn't know how she could tell that.

She had seen people like them every morning and hadn't paid much attention to them, but she was different now. She watched, fascinated, how the human hosts didn't bat an eye while their auras greeted each other either with deference, caution, or barely restrained hostility, their lack of reaction a survival tactic. She longed to be part of that secret world, but until her wolf learned to behave better, she didn't dare to approach anyone. Already she was having trouble keeping her face straight when her beast tried to make everyone's acquaintance. She was seriously considering taking a cab to work and back until it calmed down.

At least she could relax at work. Even the aftershaves didn't bother her as badly as before. Everyone in the office was human so her wolf calmed down pretty fast after its initial curiosity had passed, allowing her to concentrate on her work. But since her most important client was Rafe, her mind tended to wander.

At least the case was going well. On Tuesday, she was contacted by Lord Foley's personal lawyer, Christian Eliot, a short, nicely-built and powerful man who looked about thirty. He had laughing eyes, a bed-head and a scruffy chin, and he wore a vintage Rolling Stones T-shirt with his suit instead of a shirt and a tie. Nothing in his demeanour indicated why a vampire as scary as Foley would have a lawyer so cool, but looks were definitely deceiving when it came to vampires.

"I handled the previous transaction for this piece of land as well," he said with an infectious grin when they were behind closed doors in a negotiating room. "Though I can't remember why we bought it. Something to do with fishing, I suppose."

"The landlord at the pub in Betchworth said there's no fish in that creek," she noted, hiding her reaction to his announcement. It was really difficult for her to comprehend that some people were much older than they looked.

"No fish?" he exclaimed in mock horror. "Of course there's fish."

It figured the landlord had lied. "So the landlord is part of this," she said, and his laughing demeanour turned lethal so fast it was like another person had taken his place. This one she could believe was a vampire warlord's lawyer, or a Circle warrior.

"Yes." He told her that Kieran had managed to track the shooter, who had subsequently confessed that the pub's owner was leading an anti-shifter group in Betchworth and had hired him to shoot Rafe. Unfortunately, when the Greenwood clan had moved in on the landlord, he had been nowhere to be found. That worried Charly. "Never fear," Christian consoled her, noticing her anxiety. "We'll get the bastard." She didn't doubt him for a second, but she couldn't help fearing for Rafe's safety.

The fear for him was so all-encompassing that it made all other fears insignificant. Even the one about confronting her parents. She had thought to keep her newfound knowledge a secret from them, but that would have been cowardly, not to mention that it would be impossible to hide her new life if she agreed to release her wolf. So, that Thursday, she took a cab to her parents' place by Regent's Park. She didn't bother calling them beforehand but timed her visit to dinner time, knowing they would be home.

Her parents' housekeeper opened the door for her and informed her that Mr and Mrs Thornton hadn't sat down to dinner yet, which was propitious. Her father greatly disliked having his dinner interrupted. She went to the parlour where her parents were sitting opposite each other on antique sofas, sipping their drinks. Wilfred Thornton was a tall and imposing man in his late sixties, with steel-grey hair that had begun to thin after his stroke. Greta Thornton was ten years younger than her husband and ten inches shorter, with a round figure she reined in with whalebones, and perfect blonde curls courtesy of an expensive hairdresser. Both were impeccably dressed even though they were dining alone at home.

Her mother's perfume hit Charly the moment she stepped into the room, but thanks to her wolf, she was able to handle it. Handling her wolf proved to be more difficult. It didn't like her parents and it kept straining in her chest, wanting to attack them. And what was worse, it made her want to attack them too. But she knew from lifelong experience that the only way to deal with her parents was to keep her head cool. At this, she had become an expert.

_Behave_.

Her parents looked mildly surprised to see her, but not displeased. Then again, they didn't look delighted either. Her father got up to pour her a glass of sherry. She didn't like the taste of it, but it was no use asking for anything else. Her father held that women shouldn't drink anything but sherry before dinner.

"What brings you here?" he asked, handing her the drink. "Are you regretting your foolish decision to reject the place I got you?"

She had actually managed to forget that, but she hid the annoyance the reminder brought. "No, I'm very happy at Latimer and Holby, thank you." It was true too. If her boss still held grudge over their battle of wills, he didn't show it, and her cases were as interesting as before. She took the plunge, not wanting to give her father a chance to continue with the topic. "I came here to talk with you about how you had my wolf bound when I was a child."

The faces of her parents turned to rigid masks. "I have no idea what you are talking about," her mother said calmly.

But her father just harrumphed. "Found out about that, did you?"

She was a bit surprised he hadn't tried to deny it too. Knowing it would be useless to ask for explanations, or to expect an apology, she just nodded.

"Yes. And I was told that the binding can be reversed. I'm considering doing that."

"I absolutely forbid you to even consider it," Wilfred Thornton said with his most autocratic tone. It had no effect on her. She had survived meeting a man as scary as Lord Foley, and the effect of Jamie's mere gaze was stronger than her father's anger.

"That is not for you to decide," she said as evenly as she could, not wanting to get angry. It would be no use. "You've already crippled me once. I won't allow you to stop me from healing." Her being eased as she understood that it would be exactly that, healing.

In a thunderous voice, her father bellowed, "Crippled you? We made it possible for you to have a normal life without being treated like a freak."

She just shook her head. "Since you have no idea what you're talking about, I'm letting that pass. I just came to tell you that I've learned the truth and that I'm most likely going to take the opportunity."

"If you become a filthy shifter, you'll have no place in this family." There was no heat of anger in Wilfred's voice anymore. The decree was absolute.

Her heart fell. She wasn't close to her parents, but it hurt nonetheless to be cast aside so easily. But she hid the heartache behind a polite smile, and didn't try to convince them to change their minds. Her face a pale mask holding back her emotions, she got up and turned to leave.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said. "You don't know what you'll miss."

Not surprisingly, her wolf had other ideas. It tried to make her stay and lash out at her parents. It occurred to her that it had been her wolf all along that had made her so aggressive, but even now that it was free, her self-controlling techniques were still working. She curbed her wolf's anger with a tight command and left, not looking back. Her parents might relent later, but in the meantime, she would have to face the fact that she would lose her parents if she released the wolf.

She didn't realise how sad the confrontation with her parents had made her until she found herself before Jack's door some time later with no clear recollection of how she had gotten there. The moment he opened the door for her, she burst out crying, taking him by surprise. He looked around, as if searching for someone to handle the emotional female for him, but since he was alone, he bravely shouldered the responsibility and pulled her indoors. He pulled her close, trying to soothe her, patting her on the back clumsily until she stopped crying.

She studied her brother with teary eyes. They looked so alike. He was a couple of inches taller, but their colours were similar, as were their lean builds, only his came with surprisingly masculine strength, considering that he couldn't spare much time for working out. But lines of responsibility were already adding character to his face, and in a couple of years his expertly-cut black hair would start showing the first signs of grey.

A realisation hit her like a jackhammer, so overwhelming her crying started again. If she accepted her wolf, she would live for centuries while everyone she knew would grow old and eventually die. She wasn't close with Jack, but suddenly the thought of watching him die seemed too much.

"What is it? Has something happened? Are you ill or something?" Jack sounded almost panicky. He walked her to the sofa and sat down next to her. Bob trotted over to them and pressed his heavy head on her lap. After Bob's initial bafflement at her change, he had accepted her as she was. After the rejection by her parents, it felt wonderful. Jack took her hand, digging out a soft linen handkerchief from his pocket with the other.

She wiped her eyes. "No, I'm not ill." If she had gained the shifters' ability to heal with her wolf, the opposite would be true. "I recently found out something about myself that mother and father have kept from me."

He looked bewildered. "Like what? If you're trying to tell me you're adopted, try the other leg. We look too much alike, and too much like father, to be anything but his get."

She acknowledged this with a nod and just jumped to it. "No, I learned I wasn't born human."

To his credit, Jack didn't laugh or get angry. He just swallowed a couple of times, an uncomprehending look on his face. "What are you then?"

"I was born a wolf-shifter."

This truly stunned her brother. "A latent-one," he said carefully, revealing that he actually had some knowledge about two-natured races.

She sighed, surprised at how upset it still made her that her true nature had been kept from her. "No, I'm a genuine shifter. And mother and father knew it too. They had my second nature blocked with some kind of magic so that I was unable to shift."

Jack nodded as a memory dawned. "You were a horrible child, weren't you? And then you suddenly just calmed. Mind you, you've never been easy to deal with," he then added with a pointed look, but she let it slide. "So ... how did you find out?"

Happy, if surprised, that he was taking the news so calmly, she explained. "I came across a vampire during a case and he told me. He said he had never encountered anything similar."

Jack digested this for some while, but she didn't know what was causing him the most trouble, that she was a shifter or that she had met a vampire. "Is the block removable?" he finally asked.

She nodded. "The vampire thinks so."

He frowned, giving the matter serious thought in his thorough manner. It was a relief for Charly, who had feared he would treat her like their parents, and cast her out outright. "Are you going to remove it?"

That was the million-pound question. "I don't know. The wolf wants free, but I'm not sure I'm strong enough to face such a tremendous change in my life."

"You're strong enough to face anything," he assured her with a warm smile, and she found herself smiling in return, happy for his praise. Then he frowned. "What do you mean 'the wolf wants'?"

She explained to him about the aura. He looked both curious and disbelieving. She doubted many humans knew about the auras. But all he asked was another insightful question: "I get a feeling there's more to it than simply you choosing whether or not you want to embrace your second nature?"

She sighed; she couldn't help it. "Yeah." She told him about the dinner with their parents. He didn't say a word, listening with an intent look on his face. She had thought to keep Rafe out of this, because he was Jack's neighbour and she wasn't sure if Jack knew the truth about him, but she related the basics about their affair as well, without naming names.

"So this chap claims you're his destined wife simply because your wolves agree, and then he doesn't even call?" The look on Jack's face was full of big-brotherly outrage for such callous treatment, although she knew he wasn't exactly a considerate boyfriend himself when he bothered to date.

"Yes, that's basically it. But I can't really blame him. I needed space."

Jack nodded, getting off his high horse. He shot her a wry glance. "So you have an entity inside you that not only wants to be free but should be free and a soul-mate waiting for you, and still you waver?"

"I just feel like none of this is in my control," she explained feebly.

Jack shook his head, exasperated. "I have a newsflash for you, little sister. Nothing in life is in our control. So just go with it." But it really wasn't in her nature to cede control. Jack knew it and so he changed the topic. "What are you going to do about mother and father?"

She sighed, the hurt returning. "I don't know. It's nothing I didn't expect. I think I'll let them be. It's their loss, really." Then she gave him a hesitant look. He was so like their father that she couldn't be sure what he really thought of her revelation. "What do you think? Should I become a wolf-shifter?"

Jack leaned towards her. "That's really not something I can decide for you, Charlotte," he said gravely.

"I know, but it would make things easier if I knew you wouldn't shun and despise me for it." To her annoyance, she had tears in her eyes again.

Jack squeezed her hand he had been holding the whole time. "Don't worry. I'm more open-minded than that." She must have looked disbelieving, because he sneered. "I may look like father, and I may act like him most of the time too, but I'm not him. I have two-natured business associates and if I can deal with them, I can deal with you too. It's not like you can become more difficult than you already are, can you?"

She smiled through her tears of relief. She hadn't known Jack meant so much to her until she faced losing him. "I don't know about that. I can be pretty difficult when I choose to be." And then, to proof how much she had changed already, she reached out to hug him where he sat. Utterly bewildered by the unaccustomed affection, he hugged her back clumsily, patting her a few times.

"There, now. No need to start acting crazy just because you're no longer human," he said, returning her to her seat. She didn't mind. Now that she knew she wouldn't lose Jack, she was able to make up her mind. She would let Foley break the block at the next full moon. Only three weeks to it, but the wait seemed interminably long. And she definitely couldn't wait that long to see Rafe. She had waited too long as it was.

# Chapter Seventeen

Rafe's week hadn't been any better than Charly's. He was miserable without her, her absence like a void next to him, the strain unbearable as Might worked to pull them together. What made him feel worse was the knowledge that their separation was his doing. Even as he had promised her space, he had known that he shouldn't let her go, but acting on some strange chivalry he had done so anyway. He would only drive her away if he pushed her, so he would let her be until she was ready to come to him, no matter what her decision was, even if it killed him.

Which it just might do, judging by the misery his heart was causing him.

In less than a day his bad mood spiralled down to such depth that his clan-mates, Jamie included, thought it best to give him a wide berth. His mood lightened briefly when Kieran and some soldiers caught the man who had shot at him and Charly, and he felt even better when it turned out that his smart woman had been right—the villagers objecting to the building project feared shifters would be moving in there. To counter this, the Greenwood clan was planning to launch a goodwill campaign in the area to assuage those fears. In hindsight, they should have been more open with their project in order to avoid this kind of nonsense.

But what truly satisfied his foul mood was when they hunted down and caught the wolves who had attacked him, the violence of the showdown exactly what he needed. They tracked the wolves to Luton, northwest of London, to a small, shifty clan on the verge of breakdown from an inner power struggle. Without the consent of the clan's old alpha, some younger members had begun to fund the clan by hiring themselves out as thugs and assassins. They weren't that well organised, however, so when the Greenwood clan soldiers, along with some token additions from London clans, moved in on them, they weren't able to mount a good resistance. They had fought hard enough, however, to give Rafe a chance to vent his anger on the bastards who had dared threaten his woman.

His violent behaviour didn't go unnoticed. "We need to talk," Jamie said when they were back at the manor that evening. Rafe had been about to go to his room to shower and clean some of his wounds, but even he had to obey when his alpha took that tone, and he followed Jamie to his study.

Jamie pointed at a chair in front of the fire, but he had blood and mud on his clothes. The chairs had been through a lot, but Rafe opted to stand, only leaning his hip against the backrest. Jamie did the same after noticing the condition of his own attire. He hadn't exactly held back in the fight either. Then he sighed.

"This has got to stop. You need to bring your mate home."

Rafe squeezed his hands into fists, fighting the anger that being reminded of her absence brought. "I promised her she could work this out on her own."

"Are you out of your mind, leaving her to deal with something this momentous alone? I thought you were having a lovers' spat; otherwise I would have spoken earlier." Jamie was getting angry too. "She doesn't know how to handle the wolf. What if something goes wrong?"

It hadn't even occurred to him. She was so strong that he had assumed she would manage perfectly. But now Jamie's words made his body go cold in fear. "You're right. I'll go fetch her home immediately."

He turned to leave, but Jamie halted him. "Not right now. Definitely not in that state of mind."

Rafe snarled at his brother. "I won't leave her to deal with this alone for one moment longer!"

Jamie only sneered. "So you'll do what, order her to follow you?" That was exactly what Rafe planned to do. He had been remiss with his responsibilities to his mate and he would make amends immediately. But Jamie had other ideas. "She's a dominant with an alpha streak. She won't just obey you."

Rafe felt fairly certain he could make her wolf obey, but the stubborn woman was another matter. "Then what should I do?"

"You'll have to win her over."

Jamie's matter of fact comment hit the mark. Rafe had once again forgotten that he had to prove himself worthy of his woman. He hadn't done anything to that end yet and had, in fact, abandoned her when she needed him most. He itched to go to her instantly, but he knew Jamie wasn't done talking.

"And you can start that by politely inviting her over. No ordering about. We'll be signing the land deal with Foley tomorrow. We should celebrate. That'll give her a good reason to come here. If you like, I'll even fetch her myself, or ask Eliot to bring her with him."

"A bloody vampire will not go near my woman," Rafe growled. Since he didn't trust anyone around his Charly, he said he would go and fetch her himself tomorrow. Annoyed with the delay, he rubbed his face, causing flakes of dried blood to rain down. He ignored the signs of his recent injury and instead fixed a frustrated gaze at his brother. "How the hell do you deal with it, the loss of your mate?" He had been separated from Charly for less than a week and already he felt like falling apart; Jamie had endured this for over three decades. His admiration for his brother multiplied for understanding some of the torment Jamie must have gone through—still was going through.

Jamie sighed and for once confessed how he was feeling. "The love obviously died ages ago. It's only the shifter nature keeping things alive, and even that gets easier to handle—or if not exactly easier, at least you go numb and stop sensing how Might tries to pull you towards your mate."

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks." There was nothing more to add to that. Rafe left Jamie to brood by the fire and headed to his room to finally clean himself up. He had his mate to bring home.

* * *

Rafe knew he should stay at the manor, but the pull of town, where Charly was, proved irresistible. Fresh from his shower and fortified by some grub, he borrowed Jamie's sleek new BMW and drove to their Mayfair flat. Jack had returned home so she had no reason to stay over at his place, and since he didn't know where she actually lived, he figured he'd be able to keep away from her until he had calmed down.

But even as he thought that, he knew it would be a restless night. He'd be unable to settle down without her. He considered heading to the park to shift; the anti-shifter demonstrations had died down due to lack of interest from the media and the greater public, so he wouldn't have to be careful. The shift would help heal some of his wounds faster too, now that the full moon wasn't amplifying his healing ability with the onslaught of Might.

He drove his car into the car park underneath the building where Jamie's black sedan blended better with the expensive vehicles there than his own beaten-up Land Rover. He hurried to the lift, eager to change his clothes to something he wouldn't mind leaving behind if needed. Once in the lift cage, he greeted whoever was keeping watch with a small salute at the camera and was answered with welcoming words through the loudspeaker. Smiling, he stepped out of the cage at his floor—only to come face to face with Charly.

His whole world paused and turned on her with unwavering focus. She had just exited Jack's flat and was heading towards the lift, but she froze when she spotted him. He drank her in, the precise clothing and beautiful face drawn with fatigue. He felt a pang in his heart knowing he had caused her tiredness.

For a few moments he was unable to speak, his heartbeat too erratic. She didn't say a word either but just kept staring at him calmly with her beautiful dark eyes. Only, her calmness was faked, he could tell. Her heart was beating frantically and her wolf was acting up on her chest, trying to reach him.

"Hi," he said eloquently, the poet that he was. Then, because it felt natural, he opened his arms for her and, with a small cry, she came to him. Her arms wrapped tightly around his waist and her head rested on his shoulder, and he put his arms around her, holding her fast, his head leaning on hers. For the first time that week, he felt calm and complete.

Then he was kissing her, his passion igniting them both. With the last vestiges of his reason, he fumbled for his keys and managed to open the door to his flat, practically carrying her in by her waist, never breaking the kiss. As the door closed behind them, she was already naked.

Charly's arousal was so blinding she didn't even notice how Rafe had managed to open the long zipper at the back of her dress to peel the garment off of her. Her bra instantly followed. Too impatient to pull down her panties, he simply tore the seams open and let them drop on the floor on their own. She was too busy pulling off his clothes to care what happened to hers.

Then she had no time to care anymore. The moment she opened his zipper and freed his erection, he rammed her against the wall opposite the door, not bothering to remove his trousers. Supported by his strong arms, she barely had time to lift her legs up and wrap them around his waist before he entered her with one deep thrust.

Their joining was fast and frantic, but she needed it with all the frustration their separation had caused. His face buried in her neck, he kept driving her against the wall, every thrust causing a large mirror next to her rattle in its fastening. In only a few moments, she felt her orgasm building, and when Rafe sensed it he increased his pace, bringing them both to completion at the same time.

But he didn't let her go. Taking a better hold of her, he carried her to his bedroom where he lowered her down onto his bed, following her there. Then he began all over again.

Hours later, they were lying on the bed, naked, sweaty and out of breath, but very much sated. "Hi," she said, almost the first words they had spoken outside of sweet nothings or screams of pleasure. She felt calm and complete. For the first time in days, her wolf wasn't demanding anything from her. It had disappeared inside her the moment Rafe had kissed her, as if giving them privacy, but she knew it was aware of everything that was happening.

He smiled, making her heart swell at the tender look on his face. "Hi." He kissed her nose, her jawline, her neck, grazing the pulse there with his teeth, and she leaned her head back, bringing her throat closer to his mouth. He gave a low, throaty laugh. "Gods, it makes me want to sink my teeth into your throat, seeing you do that. Such a surrendering gesture from a woman so in control is both humbling and empowering."

She knew it, her wolf making her understand body language in a whole different level, but she didn't care how submissive she appeared. Outside the bedroom, she would fight to be equal with anybody, but inside it, he could be in charge. "Do it."

He inhaled sharply and she felt him grow hard again against her thigh. He hesitated briefly, kissing the most vulnerable part of her throat softly. Then she felt his teeth sink in. It wasn't a deep bite; he only meant to mark her. There was some pain, but mostly just incredible pleasure, her wolf howling in joy inside her for being one with their mate.

Then she was screaming too as she came again in an ultimate surrender.

"I'll drive you to work." After a night of endless passion, they had woken up late. He was watching her hurry through her morning routine, a happy grin on his face. "Or better yet, since it's Friday and the deal will be signed today, why don't you call your boss and tell him you're spending the day with your client."

She turned to smile at him. "Doing what?" she asked saucily. "I can hardly tell my boss I'm staying home to spend the day in bed with you."

"Please."

It wasn't in his nature to plead and she understood it, because she abandoned her frantic gathering of her clothing—minus the ruined underwear—and paused to study him. Then she nodded. "Fine, but there will be no more sex until I've recovered from last night." He nodded, but something in his face revealed he wasn't going to keep that promise.

She gave him a stern look. "I mean it. And we'd better head to your home so I can claim with a clear conscience that I've been working the whole day."

That amused him. "Haven't you ever skived off?"

He wasn't surprised when she said she hadn't. And it didn't surprise him either when a half an hour later he found himself in Jamie's car with her, driving towards Epsom without so much as a kiss. She had disappeared over to Jack's place after calling her boss, to change into something more suitable for the countryside, and she hadn't allowed him to follow her there. "We'll never get out of the house if I let you have your way with me."

He didn't mind that the sex had been postponed—there would be much more—even though her nearness threatened to drive him as mad as her absence had before, albeit for different reasons. He needed to divert his thoughts from how she had ridden him the night before in wild abandon. "So, how have you been this week?"

"Miserable."

"Thank gods," he sighed with feeling.

She bristled. "Why would you want me to be miserable?"

He ignored her upset and just wrapped his left arm over her shoulder to pull her as close to him as her seatbelt would allow. "Because I've missed you tremendously, and I would hate to think it was only one-sided."

"Then why didn't you even call me?" she asked, peeved.

"I couldn't do that. Otherwise I would have rushed to you no matter what I had promised."

Her shoulders sagged under his arm and he stroked it a few times, making her relax. "I didn't think it would be so difficult to be apart from you," she confessed.

Emotion swept over him and he had to concentrate on traffic so he wouldn't crash the car. She did feel the wolf's call, even if she didn't know what it was. Thank gods. "When wolves make their choice, they want to be together constantly," he said finally, his voice gruff.

She leaned into his arm. "It's a lot for me to learn."

He could understand that. "But you don't have to learn it by yourself," he reminded her.

She sighed. "I know that, and I actually wanted you to be around. But at the same time I needed to be on my own with this too, to see how I would cope alone. I definitely needed to make up my mind without your influence."

"And have you made up your mind?" He asked it casually, but his whole life depended on her answer and he held his breath.

"I'm fairly sure I have. It's just that turning my life upside down scares me and I find the thought of actually shifting really frightening."

It wasn't a definite yes, but he would take what he could. He smiled warmly at her. "I'll help you. You really don't have to go through this alone."

"Thank you."

He cleared his throat. "Would it help you make your decision if I told you I don't care whether you choose the wolf or not? I just want to be with you, no matter what form you come in."

He smelled her tears and took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at her. She looked incredibly happy, even though tears were running down her cheeks. He couldn't kiss her while driving, but he tightened his hold of her shoulder. "Yes, it means a great deal to me," she finally said, wiping her face. "More than you know."

He could only hope that didn't mean she would choose to remain human. But he would stand behind his words. He would have her and keep her in whatever shape she chose, for as long as he could.

# Chapter Eighteen

That afternoon, wolves and vampires gathered at the future building site in Betchworth to sign the land deal there. Charly wondered about the outdoors venue and was told that despite the friendly relations between the Greenwood clan and the Crimson Circle, they were both naturally suspicious of each other and wanted neutral ground for the signing where neither would have home-turf advantage. The composition of the two groups present seemed to confirm this attitude.

Jamie and Rafe showed up with Harry, Matt, and Kieran, everyone with their auras out. Foley arrived with Gabriel and three other huge men who looked so much alike that they had to be his sons, although one of them was as fair as the rest were dark. The vampire warriors were wearing what Charly surmised was their battle uniform, black leather jeans, combat boots, and double-breasted leather jerkins over long-sleeved black t-shirts, their incredible size making the outfit look very impressive. Christian, in fighting-leathers too, and Charly, as lawyers handling the deal, were considered neutral, but otherwise it was two groups of soldiers and warriors facing each other on the meadow near the creek that was being sold. Everyone was tense and they kept looking around for possible threats, or perhaps it was in their natures never to relax in an open space.

For all the drama and build-up, the actual signing of papers went uneventfully and perfectly civilly, as if they had been in an office somewhere. She and Christian had tweaked every last detail to Foley's and Jamie's satisfaction so that only their signatures were needed. Those, they put down after a brief exchange of hellos while their backups watched over the proceedings.

Once every paper was signed or marked with initials, everybody relaxed—except Rafe who didn't trust any of the unmated males around her. The handsome vampire warriors, especially, seemed to be getting on his nerves, as if she would suddenly switch her affections to one of them. Unlike his clansmen, the vampire warriors didn't shy from teasing him about his new status as a pledged man. She thought they were getting a bit ahead of themselves, but she found their bantering entertaining, a sign of relations friendlier than she had been given to understand.

But only Foley was brave enough to get close to her, confirming that the warriors weren't stupid. "So, Miss Thornton," he said with a small smile on his beautiful face, eyeing her aura she still wasn't able to hide if it didn't want to hide, "I see you're getting along with your wolf. Have you made up your mind about letting me unblock it properly?"

Everyone paused, even the vampires, waiting for her answer. She felt self-conscious being forced to reveal her decision in front of everyone before she had had a chance to tell it to Rafe, but her wonderful wolf was looking at her with such heart-breaking anticipation on his handsome face that she didn't want to postpone the news. The words were spoken to Foley, but she was looking at Rafe. "Yes. I've decided to let my wolf free."

Rafe's knees sagged a little hearing this, and he let out a breath he had been holding in a long burst, but he collected himself immediately. He swept her up as everyone cheered and twirled wildly around, holding her tightly at her waist so that her legs were off the ground, his eyes glistening although he was smiling broadly. She laughed from happiness, the tension she had felt for days swept away.

But when people came to them to congratulate her, Rafe threw her over his shoulder like a sack of grain and took off towards the woods, ignoring her patting him on the buttocks, shrieking that he let her down immediately. She could see from the smiling faces of those left behind that they knew as well as she did what he had in mind. She could only hope that everybody would head home and leave the two of them to it.

He didn't put her down until they were deep in the small crop of woods. He backed her against a tree and leaned down to kiss her. This time the kiss was full of love, the passion they both felt leashed for a moment. It was her total undoing, her last reservation melting away. He was her future, her reason for existing from now on.

When they came up for breath, she didn't care anymore where they were or who would see them. She simply had to have him. She pulled off his jumper and he did the same for her. Their garments dropped carelessly onto the cold ground. She didn't feel cold; his nearness heated her from the inside out. His belt was next, her fingers clumsy as she tried to unbuckle it. It didn't help her task that he suddenly tensed. He lifted his gaze to look at something behind her, but before she could ask what he had seen, he swirled her around, blocking her view to whatever had alarmed him with his large body.

A shot echoed in the woods.

Charly didn't comprehend what the sound was at first. Then Rafe began to sink down, pulling her to her knees with his lifeless weight, and she watched in horror as blood gushed from a wound between his shoulder blades. From courtroom photos, she recognised it as a close range shotgun wound, but she had no idea if it would be fatal to a shifter. He was breathing, if weakly, so she drew strength from that.

She could hear people running towards them, but she didn't turn to look. She just lowered him onto his side so that he could breathe more easily. She knew she was in shock, because she was observing everything as if from a distance, but she couldn't shake out of it. Her wolf was desperately trying to get free and go to its mate, but she didn't know how to calm it. She couldn't even calm herself.

A snap of a dry twig breaking in the forest made her look up. The landlord from the pub was standing between the trees, a shotgun pointed at Rafe. "You filthy animals just couldn't leave well and truly be. Do you think we want your kind in our village?"

She wasn't listening to his words. She saw only the threat to her mate. He was defenceless and she had to protect him. She didn't know what to do, but her wolf did. She gave it permission and it was all it needed. Its aura began to stretch out of her, growing larger and pulling farther and farther until she felt something starting to break inside, her as if she was being torn apart like tight fabric. It was a painful sensation and she wanted to resist, but it was too late. Her wolf was free.

The pain was exquisite, but it was over before they even noticed and suddenly the world looked, sounded, and smelled different. They got up on four slightly tottering legs, but they couldn't afford the luxury of adjusting themselves. The shotgun was pointed at them now, more shakily than before, and they could smell fear, acrid and intoxicating. They didn't hesitate; they lunged quickly, sinking their sharp teeth into the wrist holding the weapon.

The man screamed in pain and the shotgun dropped from his hand. He tried to pull his arm away, but they were too heavy for him. He punched and kicked them with all his strength, but they ignored the pain and held tight. Blood was gushing into their mouth and it tasted wonderful. They bit deeper, breaking bones. The man sank to his knees, weakened with pain, but still they wouldn't let go. He had hurt their mate.

"Cease!" The powerful command made them pull their ears back and sink lower, but their grip held fast. A wolf in human form, their alpha, crouched before them and looked them straight in the eyes. "Let go."

This time they had no choice, there was such force in his voice. They obeyed, but they didn't like to do it and so snarled. Their alpha snarled back and they knew their place.

But then a new threat revealed itself. There were people around their mate. They charged at the intruders, showing teeth and growling, but their alpha was suddenly there again, taking a tight hold of their ruff. "Calm down, they're just forcing him to shift by pouring Might into him. He can't shift while unconscious, and he needs to do it so he can heal." They watched tensely as the wolves in human form leaned over their mate. Over and over again, translucent wolves dove into him, rising up a little paler each time, until their mate's wolf awoke.

Their alpha looked at it and gave it a command. "Shift."

And it did.

# Chapter Nineteen

"Come on, Rafe, you stubborn bastard, wake up. I need you to shift back to human." They felt a hand shake them and they wanted to growl so that Jamie would let go, but they felt too weak for such a task.

A memory stirred. Weak wasn't good. They needed to get their mate to safety.

They jolted awake and shot instantly to their feet. Their mate was lying next to them, a beautiful black wolf, and they pressed their muzzle against hers, inhaling her scent. There was blood, but she wasn't hurt; it belonged to their enemy. They licked the blood off anyway, as it might attract predators otherwise.

"Come, shift back," their brother commanded, but they didn't want to obey. They were as they should be, wolf to wolf with their mate.

"Shift."

This time they couldn't ignore the command, and a strenuous moment later Rafe was back in human form, naked and cold. Matt tossed him his clothes and he dressed quickly before turning to scold Jamie. "What the fuck?" Even in human form he felt angry for being forced to leave his mate.

But Jamie was unfazed by his anger. "You have to make Charly shift back. She simply refuses to obey me." He sounded both worried and admiring. Not many wolves could resist him. "The wolf's been locked up for too long and now it won't let her come back."

His human brain registered only now that she had indeed changed form, and he turned to study her in awe. She was exquisite even to his human eyes, perfection. She pressed her head against his hand and he rubbed her ears affectionately. "She shifted? But how?" It wasn't even a full moon.

"Apparently a threat against her mate enabled her to conquer some very strong magic," Foley said dryly, and Rafe turned to look at the vampire who was observing them a little distance away, surrounded by his warriors. "But she can't stay in that form any longer. It's only her first shift."

He understood immediately. A similar thing happened with all cubs during the first shift, the freedom intoxicating for them. But any adult could order them to change back to human. She, however, was an adult, and a dominant to boot. He got worried even as he admired her strength. "I don't know what I can do. You're stronger than I am," he said to Jamie, who nodded.

"A mate can overrule an alpha in some occasions. You have to try."

Rafe crouched before the beautiful wolf, wincing slightly in pain when something twitched in his back. "Why does my back hurt?"

"You were shot. It was the landlord from the village pub. The police have him now."

"The police? How long was I out?" And more importantly, how long had Charly been in wolf form? This might be more difficult than he had anticipated.

"Far too long," Jamie answered gravely. "The police left with the bastard twenty minutes ago."

This wasn't good. Rafe took Charly the wolf by its muzzle and stared deep in its eyes. He felt an onslaught of Might streaming back from it as the wolf expressed its will to stay free, but he didn't back down. There was a time and a place for even the strongest man to bow before his woman, but this wasn't it.

Mind to mind communication between shifters was easier when both were in animal form, but it could be done even if one of them was in human form. It just took some concentration. Unfortunately, his healing had left him feeling a little weak. Sweat was soon streaming down his back as he battled with Charly the wolf. _Come on, my love, I know you're in there_ , he murmured into her mind. The wolf was at the forefront. It growled at him and he growled back. _I don't want to hurt you, I just need to talk to Charly_ , he assured it. He could feel its suspicion, but he murmured soothing words and little by little it lowered its defences, allowing him through. _Charly, are you there?_

_Yes. Can you get me out?_ She sounded scared, her worst fears having actualised, so he assured her that he could do it in the most persuading voice he had.

_Just follow my voice_.

It took more convincing, but finally the wolf lowered itself before him, pressed its head down, and he rubbed its black fur to show that he wasn't angry with it. "Shift." He put the last remnants of strength he had left into the command. And thankfully, she obeyed.

It took longer than it should have, but finally she was back in human form, lying naked and panting in exhaustion on the cold grass. He pulled her into his lap, and when someone gave him a blanket, he wrapped it around her. She was shivering, and he pressed her closer, protecting her with his warmth.

"I'll never do that again," she declared in a feeble voice after a while.

"What, shift? I'm afraid that's not possible." He smiled against the top of her head, happy to have her back, but she must have heard the amusement in his voice.

"It bloody hurt!"

"I know, baby. But it'll get easier, I promise. After a couple of shifts you won't even notice the pain." He rose up with an effort, taking her with him, and refused when Jamie offered to carry her to the car. He wasn't dead, so he was strong enough to carry his mate. She needed pampering after everything she had been through and it was his privilege to provide it. A bath was in order. And then he would make love to her until their brains melted.

The shift had worn Charly out worse than she had believed. She fell asleep during the drive back to the manor, and again in the warm bath. She wanted to look after Rafe's wounds and take care of him in return, but she was too exhausted, too tired to make love even. Lying naked on the bed, he simply drew her close to his warmth and told her to sleep. He would watch over her.

A small part of her feared she would shift back to a wolf in her sleep, but even that couldn't keep her eyes from closing. When she woke up, the sun had already set and it was dark outside. Someone had built a fire in their fireplace, so it was warm and cosy, and she felt content to just lie there next to quietly dozing Rafe. She was still human and her wolf was hiding, happy to do so now that it had been given its freedom.

She hadn't lied when she'd told him the shift had hurt, but she didn't regret letting it happen. She would do it again in a similar situation. No one could hurt her mate and get away with it. She felt fiercely protective of him even though she knew he was strong enough to look after himself—and her.

She must have stirred because he woke up, instantly alert to his surroundings. She turned to look at him and saw him smiling down at her. She smiled back. "Did you sleep well?" he asked, reaching to stroke her hair.

"Yes. Does it always tire one this badly to shift?"

He pulled her closer. "No, it's the opposite, in fact. It should energise you." She must have looked sceptical because he suddenly grew serious. "I'm sorry it was forced on you in such a manner. I would have prepared you better for it. Do you regret it?"

His question was hesitant and she reached up to stroke his face. It felt a bit raspy against her soft palm, but wonderfully manly. "I have absolutely no regrets," she assured him, and she felt him relax beneath her hand.

"Thank you," he said with feeling.

Though she wasn't sure what exactly he was thanking her for, she answered anyway. "My pleasure."

Then it definitely was her pleasure as he set out to fulfil the rest of his plan for pampering her.

An hour later, they entered a noisy dining room where Harry and a dozen or so men were having their dinner. A friendly food fight was going on between the two sides of the table, the cause of which wasn't immediately clear to Charly, but she didn't care. They seemed comfortable and loving with each other and she could feel the welcome extending to her as well. Having been rejected by her parents, she needed the acceptance of her adopted family.

"Thank you for giving me this," she said to Rafe quietly as he led her to the other end of the table, away from the line of fire of bread rolls.

He smiled at her happily. "No, thank you. I know you had your doubts and that you wanted to explore the shifter side more thoroughly before committing to it. But you didn't hesitate to embrace your wolf for me."

His eyes shone with love as he watched her. He was the strongest man she knew, yet he didn't mind showing her how vulnerable he could be in front of audience. Could she be anything less? "For you, it wasn't a sacrifice at all. It's how it should be. This is what I'm meant to be, a wolf-shifter, and your mate. I love you."

His smile deepened. "I know you do. You conquered powerful magic for me. Only love can do that." He pulled her against him and looked her deep in the eyes. His eyes offered love and she accepted it. "And I love you."

She let her wolf out and, as it mingled with his wolf, she suddenly understood what everyone, her wolf included, had meant by the wolf's call. There it was, their connection in Might, and her wolf accepted it. It was so beautiful she got tears in her eyes and he kissed them away.

"So what happens now?"

He looked amused. "Life happens now. And it's a long one, so we can take it slow. You don't have to make hasty decisions about anything, but I would like you to move in here with us. And I'll definitely want children."

She didn't have anything against that. "What about my job?"

He gave her a teasing smile. "You can work. I'm not that old-fashioned. If you like your current job, keep it. After all, fifty years from now you can do something else." It was a mindboggling thought. "Or, if you like, you can come to work for our firm. We could use someone like you there."

That sounded fine too. Everything sounded wonderful, now that she had found her true self and the man who let her be what she was, a strong woman and a wolf. She reached up and kissed him. She would never shy from showing emotions again, showing him and the world how much she loved him, her wolf.

# About the Author

Susanna Shore is a historian turned author. She writes Two-Natured London paranormal romance series, a new and exciting take on vampires and wolf-shifters that roam London, and P.I. Tracy Hayes series of a Brooklyn waitress turned private investigator. She also writes stand-alone thrillers and contemporary romances with billionaires and the strong women who love them. When she's not writing, she's reading or—should her husband manage to drag her outdoors—taking long walks.

Subscribe to Susanna's newsletter to find out when the next Two-Natured London book comes out. All new subscribers get a free short story featuring Charly and Rafe.

If you liked the book, please leave a review on the site of your purchase, or on Goodreads. Thank you.

Continue to read a sample chapter of the next Two-Natured London book, Warrior's Heart.

# Warrior's Heart, Excerpt

"Wake up, sleepyhead!" The cheerful command was followed by the swift removal of Jasper's duvet, which left him feeling cold and exposed in his nakedness. That didn't stop him from shooting out of the bed and punching Jeremy in the shoulder.

"Fuck off, Jem, you twat!" Jasper sat back down and rubbed his face to banish the last remains of his sleep.

"Now, now, Jas, is that any way to address your little brother?" Jeremy asked good-naturedly, not even massaging his shoulder, the show-off. Jas had given it a good punch, but the idiot had deserved it. You didn't wake a sleeping vampire and not pay for it. "It's your night off, remember. You can't spend it sleeping."

"I can do what I bloody well want," Jas growled, still annoyed at the interrupted sleep. "I'm over three and a half centuries old. I need my constitutional."

Jem snorted. "Well, Papa Bear—or should I say bare," he added with a grin, shooting a meaningful glance down at Jas's naked torso, "those of us who aren't quite that old are heading to Sudden Death, and you are coming with us."

Jas would have punched harder if he had known Jem was here on such a blasted errand. "Like hell I am." Sudden Death was the most popular night club in London among the two-natured kind, vampires and shifters alike, but Jas was yet to see the appeal. Most warriors of the Crimson Circle went there regularly, but Jas had been there maybe twice during its existence, and hadn't frequented any of the other joints that had enjoyed the warriors' patronage before that club either. He didn't get the attraction of loud music, overcrowded dance floors and rubbing shoulders with shifter pups and vampires barely out of their _fulfilment_. Now, get him into a pub—a proper English affair such as he remembered from his youth—with a pint of whatever was on tap, and he was happy.

"Can't we go to the Crown instead?"

"Nope. Zach feels like dancing tonight," Jem said, going to Jas's wardrobe and pulling it open. While he rummaged through the contents—and good luck with that—Jas resigned himself to his fate. Zacharias Hamilton, the Second Son of Alexander Hamilton, Lord Foley, the leader of the Crimson Circle, loved Sudden Death, its atmosphere, its music, the dancing and the booze. But most of all, he loved the women and there were plenty of those to be had there. And they all loved him back. He was a force of nature when it came to partying, so Jas might as well head to the shower.

"There's nothing in your wardrobe but leather and jeans," Jem complained.

"If I can't go in jeans and a tee, I'm not going," Jas said emphatically, closing the bathroom door behind him, but to no avail. Before he turned on the shower, he heard Jem say something about finding clothes from his own closet.

* * *

"Are you done primping yet?" Jeremy's voice called through the bathroom door ten minutes later. With a grunt to the affirmative, Jasper finished drying himself. He shot a glance to the mirror to make sure his face was clean, the sum total of his preparations for the night. His gaze fell on the tattoo circling his right bicep, a thorn wreath inked in deep red, the mark of a full-fledged Circle warrior. He was proud of it. He had other tattoos too—his left shoulder and upper arm were covered in black tribal swirls—but on his right arm there was only this one.

Hanging the towel to dry, he turned his back to the mirror. He didn't have to worry about shaving or having his hair fashionably coiffed. He kept stubble shadowing his chin and shaved his hair so short it was almost impossible to tell its colour. He scarcely remembered it himself, but it had to be dark brown, if his eyebrows and the hair that covered his body were any indicators. He had looked the same for centuries, long before it became fashionable among human males to shave their heads more diligently than their faces when they wanted to conceal their receding hairlines or look tough. He saw no reason to change.

He wasn't exactly balding—he was a vampire after all—but his hairline had begun to recede before his _promise_ was _fulfilled_ when he was twenty-nine. Using Might, the energy surrounding all living that only the two-natured races were able to access, he had been able to correct some minor details. He had reset his nose he had broken as a lad and again as a soldier for the king, but it hadn't seemed important to make his hair grow back. Just as he hadn't seen a point in removing the thick scar that ran horizontally across the right side of his head above the ear. It was a memento from the Battle of Killiecrankie in 1689 when a Highlander had tried to take the top of his head off with his claymore.

It had been a killing blow, and the only reason Jas was alive today was Foley. He had found Jas after the battle, lying bloodied and dying on the field, and had saved his life with his ability to heal. Then he had moved Jas to his own camp, the vampire division of the troops fighting for William of Orange.

Saving his human life hadn't been the only thing Foley had done for him. He had told Jas that he had _promise_ in him—the vampire variation of the two-natured gene, as modern science called it—and had offered to _fulfil_ it—trigger it so that Jas would become vampire instead of remaining human. Jas hadn't hesitated. There may not have been any vampires in the village where he grew up, and he hadn't encountered many during his career as a soldier either, but the near-death experience had convinced him that there were great advantages to being a vampire. He had even asked Foley to test Jem for the _promise_. Together, the brothers had been made vampires and they had pledged their allegiance to Foley and the Crimson Circle.

With their newly acquired vampire handicap of being unable to operate in daylight for the first century or two, they couldn't have continued as soldiers for the Crown anyway, but the Circle more than made up for the loss of profession, offering them plenty of chances to fight during the night. Moreover, the brothers had proven to be strong in Might despite being human-born. It had taken them less than a century to win the sun, opening a way for them to become full-fledged Circle warriors.

Jas exited the bathroom in his birthday suit and shot a disgusted glance at Jem who was standing right outside. "What's the rush, little brother?" He was three years older than Jeremy and he liked to bring it up every now and then. Or, you know, like every day.

Jas actually liked having Jem around, even on evenings when he was being more annoying than normal. He was the only family he had left, including the progeny of their human siblings; the last one of those had died about a century ago. They had their warrior brothers of course, but it wasn't the same as having one's blood relations around.

That didn't mean they always had to be nice to each other.

Jas's glowering made Jem only grin wider. The bastard was enjoying this. He was holding a black silk shirt from a hanger and he pushed it towards Jas. "You can wear this."

The shirt wasn't much different from those which men had worn in Jas's youth, but times had changed. "No way am I wearing that. I'll look like a sad, clueless rocker, especially if I wear it with leather jeans."

"So wear denim instead. Or, you know, proper trousers. I'm sure there's a pair somewhere in your wardrobe." Jem himself was wearing black suit trousers and a white dress shirt with its top buttons open and sleeves rolled up to the elbows so that some chest hair and muscular, sinewy arms were showing. He was even wearing shiny leather shoes.

They looked much alike, but Jeremy had always taken greater interest in his looks. His full, dark brown hair didn't show signs of receding, and he had shaved carefully so that his strong angular jaw, much like Jas's own, was perfectly visible instead of hiding behind the stubble. Prominent nose—magically mended like Jas's—stark brows and puppy brown eyes that always regarded the world with enjoyment made him look if not handsome then manly. Jas wasn't sure the same could be said about him. And the only thing he truly enjoyed was fighting.

Grumpy old bear, Jem always called him, and he was probably right.

Since Jas had already pulled the leather jeans on, he wasn't about to change. "Jeans don't go so well with kickers."

Jem rolled his eyes. "Then put on trainers."

Jas wasn't sure what was considered appropriate footwear for a nightclub and he didn't really care. "Just give me the bloody shirt."

He snatched the shirt from Jeremy and put it on. At least it wasn't one of those pseudo-historical shirts with ruffles and billowing sleeves and only strings with which to tie it closed at the throat that were so popular among human men who pretended to be vampires. What was with that shit anyway? They never got it right.

The shirt was rather close fitted and it didn't hang all the way to his knees like the shirts of his youth; in modern eyes, it would have made the shirt look like a dress. It didn't look half bad, actually. Of course, tight as it was, he wouldn't be able to flex his biceps for fear of tearing the fabric. Or lift his arms up even.

"Leave the top buttons open," Jeremy instructed him. "And don't tuck it in." Sighing in annoyance, Jas stopped what he was doing, leaving the shirt tails hanging loose.

"Let's just go so we can get this over with." And even though he wanted to put on his combat boots, he took out a pair of black trainers and wore them instead. Who cared whether they suited the outfit or not. He contemplated putting on a long leather coat too, to ward off the late February chill, but they were driving and the coat would be a nuisance inside the club. He was a vampire; he could handle a bit of cold.

They met the rest of their group in the grand hall of the Crimson Manor, a rambling Elizabethan building Foley had built at the end of the sixteenth century to replace the earlier medieval castle the Circle had called their home. The place was large, opulent, and thanks to modern refurbishing, very comfortable. Jas remembered when times were different.

The grand hall was made to impress anyone entering the place for the first time: it was huge, with dark oak wainscoting, a high painted ceiling, stone floor, and gilded leather tapestry. Long hallways led to three wings of the manor and a grand staircase to upper floors. In the enormous fireplace on one wall a fire was always lit and the warriors gathered around it when they were on their way out or returning home.

Of the two men waiting for the brothers, Zach Hamilton was more striking. He was over six and half feet tall with a body full of lean, well-defined muscles. He resembled his father in size and colours, and like him was so handsome as to be beautiful. In addition, Zach had his mother's curling hair, deep dimples and laughing blue eyes that made him look like a fallen angel, mischievous and deadly.

"Look who deigned to join us," Zach hailed Jas with a grin when the brothers reached the fireplace. "I feared I'd have to come and fetch you myself."

Jas greeted Jem's patrol partner with a grunt, feeling that Zach's comment didn't deserve stronger acknowledgement. Zach was dressed in his usual party gear—something tight-fitting to emphasize his body, as if it mattered what he was wearing. He could dress in a Hessian sack and the ladies would still fall at his feet.

Not that Jas cared. He hadn't tried to make ladies swoon in more years than he cared to count. _Not since Gwendolyn._

"Do I have to go without breakfast?"

"Hey, if you'd gotten up with the rest of the house, you'd have had your breakfast," Nicholas Fortier, Jas's patrol partner and the fourth man in their group, pointed out. Nick was a century younger than Jas, but he was vampire-born and thus strong in Might. He was slightly bigger than Jas as a result of his purer blood, but not as huge as Alexander's progeny. He had russet hair that was always cut in the latest fashion, and blue eyes that had retained their innocent look despite centuries of fighting for the Circle; the man himself was far from innocent. They got along well even though Nick was more sociable than Jas. They balanced each other out.

"It's my night off!" Didn't anybody bloody respect that anymore?

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. We'll stop to buy you something on the way," Zach promised.

By the door, the warriors on duty that night were preparing to head out, led by Gabriel Hamilton, Foley's First Son. While not much bigger than the more leanly built Zach and Alexander, he was huge compared to most of the warriors, at least six foot seven tall and carrying over three hundred pounds of muscle and heavyset bones. Dressed in the customary fighting gear of the Circle warriors, a sleeveless leather jerkin—Kevlar-lined these days—soft leather jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt and combat boots, he looked frightening, even with the Hamilton handicap of an overly handsome face. Gabe compensated for his looks with long black hair bound in a tight queue in the style of warriors past, and cold, black eyes.

Jas didn't have the mass of his leader, who could claim vampire blood in his ancestry going back for generations. He was a shorter five foot eleven tall and weighed less than 250 pounds, but that had made him a huge man back when he was still human. Well, he hadn't had that kind of bulk back then, not with the food they ate when he was growing up. Nowadays, with a solid protein intake and steady workout regimen, not to mention the benefits of having had his promise fulfilled, he didn't look half bad. And he was a good warrior.

He wished he was heading out on a patrol too. Five teams of four warriors were heading to London, namely to the City, the square mile at the heart of the town with its swarming businesses that kept the country running during the day. During the night, something else did the running.

Renegade vampires had begun to show up some three centuries ago, targeting proper vampires, but the Sentient War raging among the two-natured races had prevented the Circle from tackling the issue in its infancy. It had allowed the dissidence to grow, and renegades were a menace now.

Jas didn't know why their enemy chose to hang out in the City during the nights. London was a huge place—had been larger than the City's walls already three centuries ago—yet the square mile of the City was where the Circle warriors patrolled every night and with good results too. It was as if renegades were tethered to the place. Or drawn there by a compulsion.

As the last of the warriors disappeared through the door, Jas sighed. "Let's go then. I'm driving." The faster they got to the club, the faster he could get home.

You can read more about _Warrior's Heart_ here.

# Also in the Two-Natured London Series

Warrior's heart. Two-Natured London 2.

" _Who the bloody hell are you, and why are you here?"_

When an apparent human-on-human shooting turns out to have non-human origins, vampire DI Philippa Audley is ordered to investigate. It would be easier, however, if she hadn't been ordered to work with Jasper Grayson, one of the legendary vampire warriors of the Crimson Circle. An old-fashioned relic of a bygone era with very peculiar notions of what a woman can and can't do is not an ideal partner for Philippa who has made a life's career of being the first vampire woman in everything. It doesn't help either that her late father, a Circle warrior himself, was Jasper's last partner.

Jasper Grayson isn't very accustomed to vampire women, let alone a woman as unique as Philippa who is used to giving orders and being obeyed. His Hunger compels him to protect her, but how is he to protect someone who refuses to listen to very reasonable commands to stay safe? And how is he to gain her trust when he is keeping a secret from her?

Black magic is afoot and a deadly enemy to vampires forces the pair to find a way to work together. But will they be able to put aside the demons of the past for a shared future?

Read more about _Warrior's Heart_ here.

A Wolf of Her Own. Two-Natured London 3.

" _You smell of pig."_

" _If you didn't lean so close you wouldn't have to smell it."_

" _If you didn't drive like a maniac, I wouldn't have to lean so close."_

When wolves kill Gemma's sheep, she knows exactly who to blame: wolf-shifters of the Greenwood clan whose estate borders hers. But the first wolf she runs into denies their involvement. And he has the audacity to call her a liar. If she didn't have to control her vampire nature, she would show him.

Kieran's brother had been shot as a sheep killer so when an enraged vampire accuses his clan of killing her sheep, he gets furious. Determined to prove her wrong, he sets out to find the killers. He has his clan to protect. But she won't let him do it alone.

The death of Kieran's brother a ghost between them, their cooperation isn't easy. As the killings continue, this time angering humans too, they have to find a way to see past their hurt to protect the clan. But it may well be that the biggest monster is already among them. Gemma's control of her second nature is precarious. What happens when the monster gets free?

Read more about _A Wolf of Her Own_ here.

Her Warrior for Eternity. Two-Natured London 4.

A serial killer is on the loose in London and only the vampire warriors of the Crimson Circle know that renegade vampires are responsible. One night on a patrol, Jeremy Grayson saves a human woman from becoming the next victim. The chance meeting ignites his hunger, marking her as his mate. He needs to keep her safe, even if he can't really explain to her why.

But in order to do that, he has to wipe her memory so she doesn't remember him.

The only drama Corynn Sparks needs in her life is finding a job after she graduates from college. But then a vampire declares she is in mortal danger and puts her under his protection. He is a complication she doesn't need. She can't afford to dream of a man who will live for centuries while she grows old and dies.

But it turns out she carries the vampire gene. Now she has to choose between her human life and the sunshine, and her second nature and the man she loves. But how could she trust a man who has taken her memory?

Then the choice is taken from her, and she learns that there are worse things in this world than a memory loss.

Read more about _Her Warrior for Eternity_ here.

A Warrior for a Wolf. Two-Natured London 5.

" _You!" No wonder the scent had irritated her. It belonged to a man she wanted to see even less than Ryan—and had for a far longer time._

" _Me," Zach said, flashing his easy smile that used to make her knees weak when she was a foolish teenager. Not anymore. "Have we met?"_

Vampire warrior Zach Hamilton has divided his centuries in the Crimson Circle between killing renegade vampires and womanising. Now the latter has lost its appeal and he doesn't know how to get his groove back. A mating bond with a wolf-shifter isn't among the desired cures, but when he wakes up at a hospital after being shot, that's what seems to have happened.

If only his rider hadn't chosen a woman who hates him at sight.

The last person Harriet Green wanted to see on an already bad night was Zach Hamilton, the crush of her teenage years. It doesn't help her mood that he has no recollection of her. But she is a doctor, so when he is shot, she does everything in her power to save his life. Mating bond is an unwanted side-effect she does her best to ignore. She knows from experience that pairings between wolf-shifters and vampires don't work. After all, her ex-fiancé broke up their engagement when he was made into a vampire.

But then it turns out her vampire ex is now an ex-vampire. He is a renegade. Zach would love nothing better than to kill the man who has hurt his mate, but she has other ideas. She's a doctor and sworn to protect life. Any life, even renegades.

Are a warrior and a doctor even less compatible than a vampire and a wolf-shifter? Can they overcome their differences, or will one careless act doom them to an eternity of misery?

Read more about _A Warrior for a Wolf_ here.

Magic Under the Witching Moon. Two-Natured London 5.5.

" _Who are you? How did you get here? How do you always disappear?" His phone rang, startling them both. Cursing with the repertoire of a soldier, he pulled away from her and went to pick up the cell phone from his nightstand. He glanced back at the woman, but she was no longer there._

Human DS Adrian Moore believes he has learned everything there is to learn about the two-natured around him. But when a naked, moon-worshipping goddess shows up in his bedroom night after night, he admits he has no idea what to make of it. Other than that he wants her with maddening lust.

Having escaped black witches keeping her and her coven sisters captive, Raven Fontaine finds safe haven with Adrian—in form of a cat. If only the full moon wouldn't force her back into human every night, things would be perfect. Although, she has to admit that her human form fits his form rather pleasantly.

The need to get her coven sisters freed forces Raven to confide in Adrian, who is more than capable of helping her. But the black witches are on her tail—literally. Can he keep her safe? And what does it mean when a New York cop starts to think that London might be home after all, as long as he has a certain witch by his side?

Read more about _Magic under the Witching Moon_ here.

Moonlight, Magic and Mistletoes. Two-Natured London 5.6.

A collection of six short stories about Christmas, magic and love, set in the world of Two-Natured London paranormal romances with vampires and wolf-shifters. Some old favourite characters make appearances, some stories feature new characters. But all stories are about sweet romance and Christmas magic.

In the first story, _Escape on a Moonless Night_ , we learn how Alexander Hamilton, the feared leader of the Crimson Circle, met Melisende, the the mother of his Second Son Zach. The second story, _The Christmas Miracle_ , features Tom and Laura, and Tom's Clydesdale Amanda who is in a desperate need of a Christmas miracle. In _Wintry Fairytale_ everyone's favourite Newfoundland Bob is once again responsible for bringing two people together. _Enchanted Evening_ is a story of Amy and Theo, two humans working for the Crimson Circle and the Christmas party they inspire. In _Magical Christmas_ Adrian and Raven try to arrange their first Christmas together. And in _Christmas at the Greenwood Manor_ Vincent, the lovable wolf-cub, gets Jamie, the clan alpha, to organise a Christmas party for the entire wolf-shifter clan.

If you're in a mood for charming Christmas romances, Moonlight, Magic and Mistletoes is just for you.

Read more about _Moonlight, Magic and Mistletoes_ here.

Crimson Warrior. Two-Natured London 6.

" _Why are you following me?"_

He cocked one of his strong brows slightly. "Who says I'm following you?

It's a popular shortcut."

" _Then why did you stop when you saw me here?"_

" _I didn't expect you. I was startled."_

Allegra sneered. "You've never been startled in your life."

Allegra Emery has protected her family for decades, but when they are targeted by foul, unnatural men, she finds herself out of her depth. So she turns to the first person who seems ruthless enough to help her: a huge man who has a strange ability to make her feel utterly safe. If only he weren't a human, they might have a future together.

Gabriel Hamilton, a vampire warrior of the Crimson Circle, is definitely ruthless. Everything to achieve a goal: ridding the world of renegades, demon vampires, even if it means using a vulnerable vampire woman as bait. But pretending to be a human to gain her trust is new even for him. What will happen when she finds out the truth? For the first time in forever, the answer actually matters to him.

Allegra is willing to sacrifice everything to save her siblings, even herself. But what will it mean to the emerging bond between her and Gabriel. Will she save her brother and sister, only to lose forever with her warrior?

Read more about _Crimson Warrior_ here.

Magic on the Highland Moor. Two-Natured London 6.5

A shorter, in-between Two-Natured London paranormal romance.

Adeline Emery is livid. One moment she's heading to work with her sister; the next, she's whisked off to Scotland—for her own safety. A deadly enemy has targeted her family and they need a powerful ally. For that, Adeline has to marry a complete stranger.

She would much rather stay with her new protector.

For Nicholas Fortier, a warrior of the Crimson Circle, escorting a vampire lady to be married should be an assignment like any other. But Adeline isn't like any woman he has met before. Protecting her ignites his hunger, the vampire instinct that preludes the most powerful mating bond among their kind. But she has been promised to another.

Scotland and the manor of the Meyrick family should be a safe haven. But something sinister is going on there. Soon Adeline is in as great a danger as she would've been in London. And this time Nicholas doesn't have the strength of the Crimson Circle to rely on.

Through the Highland moors, they fight for their lives—and their love. But is the magic of Scotland enough to bring them their happily ever after?

Read more about _Magic on the Highland Moor_ here.

# Also by Susanna Shore

Tracy Hayes, Apprentice P.I. **(P.I. Tracy Hayes 1).**

Waitress extraordinaire turned P.I. What could possibly go wrong?

" _What should I do with you?" I cooed at the poor dog. He was listless after his bout of vomiting, but he licked my arm to show that he sympathized with my predicament, only he was just a little dog and had no idea either._

When Tracy Hayes, Brooklyn waitress extraordinaire (only a slight exaggeration) loses her job—again—she doesn't despair. She can't afford to or she'll lose her apartment. Instead, she takes the first job that she comes across. She becomes an apprentice to an enigmatic PI.

Her first case should be easy: locate the owner of a dog she's found. But things are never as simple as they seem, and she's soon ankles deep in criminals, FTAs, and cheating spouses—her ex-husband included. And that's on top of a new roommate, who may or may not be a hacker, and a family that likes to meddle with her life.

A weaker woman would give up, but Brooklyn waitresses are made of sterner stuff. A good thing too, because Tracy will need every ounce of her strength and ingenuity to pull herself out of the mess she finds herself in.

Read more about _Tracy Hayes, Apprentice P.I._ here.

Tracy Hayes, P.I. and Proud (P.I. Tracy Hayes 2).

Dumpsters and dead bodies. Just an ordinary day for a P.I.

I was climbing out of a dumpster when I found the body. It was wedged between the wall and the large trash container, and couldn't be seen except from where I was perched. A good thing, then, that I was there.

Tracy is not having a good day: first she falls into a dumpster and then she finds a body. A dead body. The suspect seems clear too. A cheating spouse Tracy's been tracking. The only problem is, he has an alibi—provided by Tracy herself.

But Tracy doesn't despair. With the help of her enigmatic boss, she sets out to uncover the truth. And while she's at it, she might as well sort out her roommate's love life, and have a fight or two with her ex-husband.

All in a day's work for Tracy. Until the guns come out.

Read more about _Tracy Hayes, P.I. and Proud_ here.

Tracy Hayes, P.I. to the Rescue (P.I. Tracy Hayes 3).

Psychics, drugs, and bikes? Tracy's here to handle it.

I was hit by a storm as I stepped out of the elevator on my way to work in the morning. And by storm I mean the psychic whose office was next door to the detective agency I worked for, and by hit I mean pulled into a hearty hug.

When a psychic promises Tracy a 'tall, dark, and handsome', it comes with a catch: she wants Tracy to find her missing niece. But finding a teenager is trickier than Tracy expected, especially since it may be that the girl is involved in drugs. The only lead is to a biker garage—and Tracy is terrified of bikes.

On the home front, Tracy's former roommate leaves with the TV, her ex-husband has marital troubles he wants Tracy to handle, and the main 'tall, dark, and handsome' in her life, her boss, is suddenly oddly keen to show her his sculpted chest. No wonder Tracy's head is in a whirl.

But Tracy can't stop to organise her personal life. She has to find the missing girl before it's too late.

Read more about _Tracy Hayes, P.I. to the Rescue_ here.

Tracy Hayes, P.I. with the Eye (P.I. Tracy Hayes 4).

Thieves and kidnappers, Tracy is here to catch them.

I was trying to keep a tray-full of champagne flutes from gliding to the floor when the thief struck. And that spelled trouble for Jackson and me if we couldn't handle the situation.

It's Thanksgiving Eve, but Tracy isn't happy. She's back to waitressing, a thief ruins a perfectly good party—lousy beverages notwithstanding—and she fails to apprehend the culprit. As the sole eye-witness, she is needed by the police, but she has a more important case to worry about. Babies have gone missing in her parents' neighborhood and the police have no clues. And then one is found dead.

Tracy sets her sights on finding the kidnapper while juggling a family Thanksgiving, a jewelry thief, and two gorgeous men. And all this with a shining black eye. Who said being an apprentice P.I. would be easy?

Read more about _Tracy Hayes, P.I. with the Eye_ here.

Tracy Hayes, from P.I. with Love **(P.I. Tracy Hayes 5).**

The perfect Christmas is made of snow, presents—and a murder.

There's something to be said about Christmas in New York. It's loud, colorful and bright—and it goes on for fricking ever, even for someone who actually loves Christmas.

Christmas shopping is fun—until someone ends up dead. Tracy fears that the killer is after a pendant she's just bought, but she's not willing to give it up. So she has to find him before he finds her.

It's not the only piece of jewelry giving her trouble. There's a spree of thefts from old people in nursing homes. Are greedy relatives making away with family heirlooms, or is there a bigger crime taking place?

On top of sleuthing and Christmas preparations, Brooklyn has frozen over, a snowstorm is approaching—and Tracy has promised to go out on a date. Can anything but a disaster come out of this?

Read more about Tracy Hayes, from P.I. with Love here.

Tracy Hayes, Tenacious P.I. **(P.I. Tracy Hayes 6).**

Who knew art could be so deadly?

I don't know why I lifted my camera and began to record, but I managed to capture the moment she punched Joel in the gut with everything she got.

Brooklyn art circles are buzzing about the latest sensation, painter Joel James. But all is not as it seems with him, as Tracy discovers to her surprise. And then he vanishes.

Tracy has another case giving her trouble too. An old friend asks her to locate his missing sister, and the only lead Tracy has is the vanished artist. Is Russian mafia involved? Have they taken the missing girl too?

When a body is found, Tracy's missing person becomes a murder suspect. Can Tracy find her before the police? Or worse, before the girl becomes the next victim of the actual killer.

On top of everything, Tracy's going on a date—with her boss Jackson. But does it mean something, or is he just doing her a favor? And what does it say about her that she still can't keep away from Jonny Moreira, the sexy, no-good mafia enforcer?

Read more about _Tracy Hayes, Tenacious P.I_. here.

You can find all Susanna's books with sample chapters and purchase links on

www.susannashore.com
