

Under Cover Of The Moon

Lunar Mates One

By

Loribelle Hunt

# Author's Note

Welcome to Lunar Mates! Under Cover Of The Moon was first published in 2006 and to celebrate its ten year anniversary has been revised and expanded from 17,000 to 20,000 words. Over the next few months I will be releasing editions of the other eight books in the series. Next up is Bad Moon Rising which will be available in late September 2016, followed by Chasing The Moon and Call Of The Moon in October 2016. If you'd like to be notified of new releases join my mailing list or my Facebook Reader Group for updates.

BLURB

Darius Stewart has been banished and offered the leadership of a new pack. With the pack to settle and a rogue wolf terrorizing the local population, threatening to expose their species, the last thing he needs is a mate further complicating his life.

That's just fine with Meg O'Reilly. A witch, she knows something is not right in her town. Discovering there are good werewolves, bad werewolves, and the possessive, bossy, sexy alpha wolf trying to take over her life is not exactly welcome. Too bad she can't seem to keep her distance.

# Table of Contents

Author's Note 1

Prologue 4

Chapter One 8

Chapter Two 10

Chapter Three 17

Chapter Four 23

Chapter Five 29

Chapter Six 34

Chapter Seven 38

Chapter Eight 43

Chapter Nine 51

Chapter Ten 56

MORE FROM LORIBELLE HUNT 59

COPYRIGHT 65

# Prologue

The courtyard outside the community hall was filled to capacity. It should have felt like any other pack meeting. It was anything but. This meeting would change Darius's life. Would rip apart his best friendships and uproot him from his home. He knew that in his bones, and the shock of it held him still. To act for his own best interests would be a worse betrayal. It wasn't Jackson's or Eric's or Trey's fault they were here now, but that didn't make it suck any less.

Several men stopped and quietly wished him luck, but more visited the man standing on the opposite side of the small courtyard in front. Jackson. One of his best fucking friends, and who now stood on the opposite of a huge divide. One of them would lead here, and it was extremely likely it wouldn't be Darius. He would have to leave if he wasn't picked. A pack couldn't have two alphas.

His gaze skated to the council, all alphas except Anthony, the leader of the hunters, who stood back in an isolated circle and took it all in. He'd met all of them before, at some point or other over the years. They were all his father's generation, except Anthony and Gage, the panhandle pack alpha. Darius tried to look at the situation from their point of view. He knew what they'd be thinking. Knew what their reasoning would be. They'd come to appoint a new alpha to the pack because Brant had died without warning and without naming a successor. Normally, that wouldn't have been necessary, but nothing was normal here.

They weren't just look for a strong leader. They'd choose someone well respected by the majority of the adult males. Brant had ruled the clan with an iron fist, and Darius was considered the most like Brant, who'd also excelled at pitting him against Jackson. He'd maneuvered them like a chess master, weakening the only two males strong enough to challenge his rule.

Darius doubted he was the upcoming choice. The pack had stagnated under Brant's leadership. It's members were looking for something new and a lot more freedom. He couldn't blame them—he wanted more freedom himself.

He gritted his teeth. Never mind that he was cast in the same mold. He was Brant's Enforcer, and that made him unpopular except for a few loyal childhood friends who saw beyond his official function. Like Jackson, his opponent. Another made his way through the bottleneck at the courtyard's entrance and came to stand beside him. He released a sigh of relief. He should have known Eric would stand at his side.

"Evening."

Darius snorted in response. Yeah, best to leave the "good" off that.

Eric nodded toward the group across the courtyard. "Jackson's got quite a crowd over there."

"Noticed that."

"Talkative tonight, huh?" Eric grinned.

Darius bit back a laugh. A few weeks earlier Eric had claimed his mate, and he had been irrepressibly, and irritatingly, cheerful ever since. If Darius weren't so happy for his old friend, he'd be tempted to strangle him.

"That's good. I can talk for both of us." Eric changed the subject. "Trey's back. Have you seen him?"

"No."

It worried him. Darius had counted on Trey's unspoken support during the Naming, but so far Trey had avoided him since his return two days ago.

"Not to worry. He's avoiding us all. I think that's a good sign, actually. Maybe he's finally going to retire from the hunters."

Darius raised an eyebrow.

Eric shrugged. "Why avoid any of us if he wasn't? He wouldn't have any say in this. If he leaves the hunters, he'll have to choose. We all know someone's getting banished tonight." And they all knew those odds were in Darius's favor.

Eric nodded toward the entrance. "There he is now."

They turned to watch as the sea of people parted to let Trey through. It wasn't that he looked so imposing, though he did. It had been his choice to become a hunter at such a young age--barely sixteen--after his parents had been killed by a rogue werewolf, that no one ever forgot. Trey had joined the group of lone wolves who hunted shifters who'd gone rogue, and as a result was barred from ever becoming alpha or beta of a pack. He'd lasted a damned long time at it too, earning himself a reputation as ruthless, merciless, and cold-blooded. They said he never gave up and never lost his quarry.

Out of the corner of his eye, Darius saw Jackson also turn to watch Trey's entrance. He passed the three of them without even a flicker of recognition, and Jackson caught his eye with a small nod just before he turned back to the people around him. The four of them had been inseparable as boys and teenagers until Trey's parents were killed, and Darius hated this stiff distance between them.

He wanted to grab Eric and Jackson, chase down Trey and shake him until he spoke to one of them. Darius was worried about him. His years as a hunter were wearing on him, and he'd grown increasingly more remote and isolated. If he didn't quit soon, Darius was afraid he'd never regain any kind of normal life.

Yet despite current appearances, he knew he could count on Trey. As a hunter he was required to be impartial, but in private he always gave sound advice. If Trey left the hunters, Darius was almost positive Trey would join him. Eric would act as Beta, and Trey as Enforcer. Jackson could be the one to either submit, or be banished. That had always been his plan at least. Then Brant when and died so unexpectedly. He repressed a growl. First he'd have to save Trey from himself, though, and figure out where they were going.

Gage had pulled him aside yesterday and gone over a few options, while making it clear the council hadn't made any decisions yet and he'd had the same conversation with Jackson. Gage Rylon was an enigma. Brant had had Darius research him when Gage had been elevated to alpha. The youngest alpha in the eight packs in the US had no history. No one knew who his parents were or what pack he'd come from. He'd simply shown up as member of the panhandle pack when he was thirteen.

Gage had offered him a place in his pack but Darius had declined. They both knew it was a bad fit. His wolf nature, hard and dominant, would want to challenge Gage. Darius was pretty sure if he ever made that mistake Gage could tear him apart quickly and without blinking an eye. It was an uncomfortable knowledge. There were very few werewolves Darius doubted his ability to take in a fight.

The stragglers made their way inside and the council followed in quick order, Gage pausing long enough to catch his gaze and nod. Eric slipped in behind them. Darius and Jackson waited until everyone entered and then approached the door together. Silence fell over the large crowd as they entered. It looked like every able-bodied male in the pack had shown up. The hall appeared to be filled to its 300-person capacity. The combined excitement of the masses charged the air. He spotted Eric and Trey in the crowd, Eric surrounded by Darius's few supporters, and Trey by the natural buffer that seemed to follow him.

He was going to have to do something about that, but it would have to wait. He turned his focus to his most immediate problem. His vision narrowed to the table before him where the Gage, apparently speaking for all the alphas, took center stage, flanked by the other six. They'd probably meant to show their own strength by putting their youngest member in the hot seat in front a crowd that could turn hostile at any minute. It had the opposite effect.

"Darius Stewart," Gage said, pausing until he stepped forward. "You are to be banished."

He'd expected it but still reeled like he'd taken a punch to the gut. He was amazed he stayed on his feet and answered in the appropriate places. It was a conversation Eric would have to relate later. To lose one's clan was practically a death sentence, the worst punishment that could be imposed on a werewolf. The room cleared, and soon only Trey and the other alphas were left. In the haze, he heard Trey say that he would follow Darius to Alabama.

# Chapter One

She was his. And it was not something he was entirely comfortable with. He hadn't thought he was in the market for a mate. The last month had been hell. Biology was a bitch.

He had located his pack in this small town on the boundary of a state park in southern Alabama, just as he had been ordered. The council, through Gage, had offered three other locations that had once been pack land. This was the best place for the men who'd chosen to follow him. It was an excellent location--a successful small town on the edge of wilderness--and was already starting to feel like home. Everyone had already found work and there was room to run. A man could stretch his legs here. So could a wolf.

One month of banishment had eased his anger at Jackson, and his old friend was now in charge of the home pack. It had come close to open conflict before the council had stepped in to banish Darius. He hadn't realized how bad it was until the decision had been made and he should have. Part of what made him a good leader was his ability to judge the people around him.

They were a small group. Werewolves hated change more than almost everything else, but ten males, six of them mated, had decided to make the move and form a new pack. He had one year to settle in and be officially recognized. One year to prove his capabilities before someone tried to wrest his pack from him. If that happened it would be an outsider, but he wasn't concerned about it.

All those praying for his failure, and he had no doubt there were many, were in for a disappointment. If the council did not approve his leadership at the completion of the year, any male could try to take it, but that wasn't going to happen. He wouldn't let it. He had eleven months left.

A mate would strengthen his position as alpha. He grimaced. Weres of all breeds looked forward to finding their mates, to settling down to monogamy and having kids. What was he doing? Worrying about securing his power. It beat the alternative--figuring out how to claim the woman he wanted. He knew trouble when he saw it, and she was it. With a capital T. Stubborn. Sexy. Independent. Smart as a whip. And did he mention stubborn?

Meg O'Reilly was the owner and proprietor of O'Reilly's Bar and Grill. He dragged a deep breath of air into his lungs, trying to resurrect the memory of her scent, sweet and spicy, and meant for him alone. Her skin was pale and clear, and he knew it would be smooth beneath his fingers. She was beautiful, small and curvy, with flowing chestnut brown hair, and he couldn't wait to discover how she tasted. It was time for her to stop running.

He had walked into O'Reilly's for the first time four weeks ago. She was the first person he saw when he pulled open the heavy wood door and crossed the threshold. Standing behind the long bar on a sidewall, she was laughing and flirting with a customer while pouring a beer from the tap. Her hair was knotted on top of her head, tendrils hanging around her face, the elegant line of her neck exposed. A wall of unfamiliar emotions--jealousy, lust, possessiveness, and many he didn't dare try to name--hit him. It was unsettling, and she stiffened as if sensing his uneasy entrance.

Afraid she'd bolt, he approached her with the good-natured newcomer façade he'd worn that first week. Her eyes were brown, the first thing he noticed on close inspection. What should have been warm chocolate gave him a frigid reception. With cool politeness, she returned his introduction and welcomed him to town.

He was more accustomed to women throwing themselves at him than making a point of ignoring him. She should feel the same emotions he did, raging lust at the very least. Then he noticed the frantic pulse beating in her neck and caught the faint whiff of her fear. He was amazed she had such control over her responses and realized with satisfaction she was not as unaffected by him as she wanted him to believe. Later he heard the rumors that she was a witch and wondered how much that had to do with it.

But she was skittish. It was okay. He had time. Or he had had time. He'd thought between charm and lust he would overcome her wariness in a matter of days, but except for a few stilted conversations, she'd avoided him since their first meeting. She'd put him off for three weeks, and the full moon was coming. With any other woman it wouldn't matter. No other woman brought out the proprietary nature of the wolf in him, the animal instinct to claim his mate. For the first time in his life, he doubted his ability to control it. Her damned stubbornness put her in danger.

Tonight he would end it. Tonight he would stalk her as he would any other prey. And God help her if she put him off again. He was too tempted to spank her mouth-watering ass as it was. For the first time in days, he smiled. That was a plan with merit.

# Chapter Two

Meg ran errands all day and tried not to obsess over Darius Stewart. The man was too sexy for words. Had she only met him a few weeks ago? Not even a full month yet? For the amount of time she spent trying not to think of him, that seemed impossible. She'd fought a deep impulse to seek him out for several days, and it scared her. She was a woman who enjoyed her independence and chose partners when the desire struck. She had never needed a man, but her libido had gone into overdrive since encountering this one.

She was a witch, like her mother and grandmother before her, and her instinct was flawless. It was a talent that had always served her well. She knew things, and felt the strong emotions of those around her. Sometimes she even caught a stray thought. If she gave in to this newfound desire, she just knew her life would be altered beyond anything she recognized. She would find herself tied to him in ways that defied human nature.

And that was the problem, wasn't it? She didn't know what he was, but she was sure he wasn't entirely human. To make matters worse, she sensed there were more of them here. Whatever they were.

Despite knowing that, she had to fight the urge to go to him. She woke every morning with need crawling through her. The longer she avoided him, the worse it got. It was pure obstinacy that kept her from seeking him out. Well, and a healthy dose of self-preservation. She sighed. It wouldn't be long before she gave in to the pull of the odd attraction between them.

She exited the bank, and the town's clock tower chimed the time. Five o'clock. She was finished with the last item on her must-do list for the day, and the night seemed to stretch endlessly before her. She didn't have to be behind the bar until ten, but she did have to be there. Sensing a new resolve in Darius, she'd juggled the schedule and had the other bartender cover for her the last two nights, but she couldn't skip out forever. He might not even show up. She snorted. Yeah right. His visit was as inevitable as the setting sun

Meg decided to take advantage of the hours before work and visit her friends in the businesses around the bar. It was a nice spring afternoon, warm without the South's requisite sky-high humidity, and perfect for wandering around the downtown streets. It would also keep her away from her phone. Darius had called so often, she didn't even need to check the caller ID anymore when it rang.

Her stomach grumbled. Okay, that told her food was the first order of business, something sinful to tide her over. She darted across the street to the bakery her older cousin, Tara Burke, ran. Spying Meg through the window, Tara smiled. A tall, good-looking man leaned attentively over the counter, and Tara blushed. That was interesting. It was about time someone caught her eye.

The scent of freshly baked bread wafted around Meg when she opened the door, and she breathed it in deeply. It was warm and mellow, and when she crossed the threshold she felt some of the tension of the last few days slip away.

The man straightened and nodded in acknowledgement, then picked up his Styrofoam cup and walked out the door. The town was filled with dark, mysterious strangers these days. Were they all like Darius? Suspecting most were, she craned her neck to watch him leave and turned to Tara with a grin.

"Who's the hottie?" she teased, watching the blush return to her cousin's cheeks.

"His name is Trey." Tara wiped a rag along the top of the counter before adding sternly, "He's just a customer. Don't get any ideas."

Grinning, Meg walked over and leaned against the rounded glass display case. "That's not what it looked like. Looked pretty up close and personal to me."

Tara groaned in response and held up her hand, which was wrapped in a bandage. "No, I cut myself. He was just looking to see if I put the gauze on too tight. I swear, he walks in and I turn into Queen Klutz. Trust me, he's not interested. He probably thinks I'm a complete flake."

Meg disagreed, but the distress in Tara's eyes convinced her to change the subject. "I swear, I gain five pounds every time I come in here."

"Maybe, but it's so worth it." Tara grinned back.

Meg shook her head and laughed. She might gain five pounds just smelling the heavenly place, but it never had any effect on Tara. She was medium height and thin, never seeming to gain an ounce. She was going through another of her many hair phases; this time it was short, spiky, and deep burgundy. Meg leaned around to look at the back of it.

"What do you think?" Tara asked, looking ill at ease and fingering the short strands in the back.

"I like it. It suits you." Meg grinned.

"Thanks. So what's it going to be today? Did you just stop in to chat, or are you here to be bad?"

"Definitely to be bad." Meg studied the display case. "I'll have a chocolate éclair and coffee. I'm closing tonight."

"I think I'll join you."

They carried their small dessert plates and coffee mugs to a table by the front window. Meg bit into the éclair, closing her eyes in appreciation as the chocolate hit her system. It was rich and sweet, a sensual treat she should indulge in more often. She had a sudden image of Darius licking a line of chocolate off her stomach and opened her eyes in shock. She had to get this Darius thing out of her system.

"Heard from Summer?" she asked, needing to focus on something safer than the luscious and tempting stranger.

"Got a postcard from Wyoming, I think." Tara laughed. "I can't keep up with her anymore."

Summer was Meg's other cousin, and though none of them carried their grandmother, Tinnie's, last name, the town knew them as the Deveau girls. They'd all spent half their lives in Tinnie's house on the lake, Summer and Tara after their parents died, and Meg after Tinnie died. With a six-year age difference, Summer and Tara had been the much-admired and imitated older sisters Meg had always longed for. As adults, Tara and Meg had stayed in town. Meg took over her father's bar when her parents retired and Tara struck out on her own with the bakery. Summer, though, became a zoologist and was often out of town for long stretches.

"The house is selling this week," Meg said softly.

Her eyes sad, Tara nodded.

"It's better this way. None of us are going to live in it. You and I have our own places, and Summer's never here." Meg shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant when it was far from what she was feeling. "There's no point to it just sitting there empty."

"You're right," Tara answered, her eyes downcast as she studied her coffee dregs, obviously trying to squash the pang of guilt selling Tinnie's house gave her.

They changed the subject to mutual friends and Tara brought up the latest community news. A man had been discovered mauled to death in the swamps not far from Meg's house. The game warden blamed the grisly death on a bear and had launched a hunt for it. It was a measure of how much Meg had isolated herself, that she'd missed something so major.

A frisson of fear skittered up her spine at the thought of how close the body had been found to her home. The house was her haven. In her self-imposed isolation, she wasn't assaulted by other people's thoughts or insights into a future she didn't want to explore. There were some things you just didn't want to know about your fellow townspeople.

But in the last few weeks the house had seemed to grow too isolated, or maybe just too lonely. Maybe she should take Tara up on her offer of her couch for a few days, because with the sudden clarity of her gift, she knew the bear incident wasn't a bear at all.

The back of her neck tingled and she was certain someone was watching her. Again. For days the feeling of being observed had come and gone, and it was getting damned old. She turned and looked out the window, but only saw the usual ebb and flow of pedestrian traffic on the town's sidewalks. The feeling faded after a few minutes.

It had to be Darius. She scrunched her brow in irritation. He should just come in. Mentally she rolled her eyes. After ignoring him, refusing to take his calls, and avoiding work to keep him at bay, it was no wonder he didn't. The real question was why she suddenly wanted to see him. The story about the bear attack made her nervous. That was all. She clung to the self-delusion.

Refusing to waste any more time thinking about Darius, she rose, gathered the dishes, and took them through the swinging kitchen door to rinse in the sink. She still had time to explore some of the shops and catch up on paperwork back at the bar, and she planned to take advantage of it. It beat sitting around and brooding about dark and mysterious men and the delicious things one in particular could do to her body.

Meg said goodbye to Tara and stepped outside. She turned in the direction of the little art shop, which was more a curiosity shop with interesting little finds. On the walk over she stopped and gossiped with friends. The bear attack was everyone's mind and they all seem to expect some insight from her. Unfortunately, her witchy powers had never been so accommodating. It was aggravating. She rarely picked up what she wanted to know.

Her uneasiness grew, and her sixth sense flared out in awareness. She was certain someone was following her, and she checked over her shoulder at every stop, but never spotted anyone. Never spotted him. Maybe it wasn't Darius after all. She felt like a mouse to a cat, and that just didn't seem to be his style.

She felt immediate relief when she entered the shop, and explored with more slowly than usual to extend the respite. A small placard in the front window announced new ownership, but whoever it was hadn't taken the time to clean up. The usual clerk had her nose buried in a book at the front display case so she guessed he or she didn't consider it a priority.

The place was a disaster and had to be in violation of the entire fire code. Meg loved it. Rows of tall metal shelves were crammed into the space, creating narrow aisles, and they were packed with fascinating odds and ends. You never knew what you'd find, and some items had more than likely been buried in the racks for years.

She would never have found the wolf figurine on one of her usual visits to the shop. It was about five inches tall, delicate and carved in light-grained wood. She set it on the palm of her hand. The wolf sat on its haunches, its head thrown back in a howl. It looked sorrowful and lonely, touched a chord deep within her as if they were long lost friends. She traced it with a finger, loving its pose and the contours and emotions evident in the figure. The carver had captured an elemental knowledge of his subject, and she wanted it. Turning it over, she had to look twice at the price. She started to put it back when a deep, familiar voice spoke behind her. Darius. How the hell had he snuck up without her noticing?

"You don't want it?"

She drew in a deep breath before she could stop herself. She had been imagining his scent for weeks, that woodsy and completely male smell only he carried. He smelled wonderful and addicting. She turned to find his broad chest just inches from her eyes. Another thing she remembered too well was his body. She wondered how well muscled he was under the loose-fitting shirt he wore. Don't go there. Taking a step backward, she tilted her head up.

"Out of my price range," she said, making an effort to keep her tone light while still clutching the small wolf in her palm.

"Ah. I know the owner. Maybe I could get you a discount," he answered. Smiling a little he asked, "You like wolves?"

She glanced down at the little statue. Before she'd taken over the bar, she'd followed her cousin, Summer, around the country in search of wolf habitats, but they'd never held the same fascination for her as they did for Summer. For her, they were a vocation. To Meg, they were endangered species, haunting and beautiful.

"Not usually."

She shrugged, then turned and forced herself to put it back on the shelf, her fingers protesting the move. She caressed it one last time, imagining she could feel the wolf's rough coat under her fingertips. Darius stood silently behind her, a brooding male presence, and she recalled the tension that had pushed her into the shop in the first place. Spinning around to glare at him, she crossed her arms over her chest and tried to take a defensive step away.

"Have you been following me? 'Cause you can stop it." She paused. "It's creepy."

He blinked and his expression grew more remote than usual before his icy blue eyes sharpened on her face. Had she thought his eyes were cold? They seemed capable of shooting sparks. He moved closer to her in a protective gesture that normally would have made her feel crowded and edgy, but instead warmed her insides. Would she ever get over this baffling reaction to him?

"This is the first I've seen you today. I was going to your bar and saw you come in here. Perhaps you are mistaken, and it's...anticipation that has you so jumpy."

She arched an eyebrow. How typical. A man couldn't provide an answer, so he fell back on his ego. Either that or he was calling her paranoid.

"No, I'm not mistaken," she said, trying to inject a note of disdain into her voice. "Someone's been watching me for days. I can feel it."

She felt a perverse urge to egg him on. She had been close to deciding to fuck him and get it out of her system. Now, face to face with his arrogant attitude, she wasn't so sure. He'd probably be insufferable if she did.

"You seem the most likely culprit." She gave him her most saccharine smile. The one she saved for obnoxious customers. "And it certainly isn't anticipation. More like feeling stalked."

The look in his eyes morphed into pure lust. If keeping her distance was the plan, pushing this man was the dead last thing she should do. He would take it as a challenge. There was an aggressive air to him and a look of command she was finding hard to resist. Giving into the pull between them would be a very bad idea. It was obvious he was not accustomed to being questioned or disobeyed. Obedience had never been her strong suit.

He smiled and her stomach dropped. Sex with him would be mind-blowing. She just knew it. He seemed to be reading her mind as he took her elbow and led her out of the store, turning toward her bar.

"I think we should discuss that a bit more privately," he said in a lust-thickened voice. "I haven't been stalking you, but if you don't stop avoiding me I might give it a shot. In a non creepy way, of course."

Outrageous words, but that didn't stop her whole body from going hot and needy. It was a short walk. She was blinking in the bar's dimness before she even considered the implications of what she was doing. It was only five, and the place was still empty. The after-work crowd would be drifting in within minutes. And she was about to have sex in her office. Excitement coursed through her and her pussy got even wetter.

Before she could form a protest, Darius steered her toward the office in the back, dragged her inside, and shut the door. The lock clicked. There was no chance for her to put distance between them now even if she'd had the will to do so. He backed her against the wall, the hard length of his body pressed against hers. And oh my, he was hard. Every splendid inch of him.

He nudged her feet apart and nestled his erection against her belly, shackling her wrists with one hand over her head. She'd never gone for aggressive, domineering guys, preferred a sexual give-and-take on an equal playing field. But Darius had her blood heated and her heart pounding in anticipation, to use his word. She struggled to figure it out and briefly wondered if she could get away. If she even wanted to. He must have seen it on her face.

"Oh no, baby," he muttered, pulling the band out of her hair and twisting his free hand in it. Tilting her face and leaning in. "I've been fantasizing about tasting you since we met. Kiss me. Don't question this, us. Just go with it."

She couldn't resist one kiss, and it was not at all what she expected. He nipped her shoulder first, feathering kisses to the curve of her neck and the erratic pulse beating there. Teeth traced the line of her jaw before finding her lips. Gently he pressed his mouth to hers, his tongue following the curve of her bottom lip. The kiss was so sweet, she sighed and opened her mouth for his exploration.

# Chapter Three

He knew she thought she could hold a piece of herself back. She wrong, but surprisingly, control was just an illusion for him too. Though he managed to keep the kiss languorous, he held her hands in a vice-like grip, his erection grinding hard against her hips. He'd only had a sip of her, but her scent surrounded him, wet and ready. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. He'd finally broken through her cool façade, and she made it damned hard to think straight. He got the feeling she would be ripping his clothes off if he weren't holding her immobile.

God, she was sweet. He reined in his urge to plunge into her and tried to slow his racing heart. He wanted her memories of their first time together to be explosive but gentle. And where the hell did that thought come from? He hadn't been gentle a day in his life. But she didn't strike him as the type of woman who enjoyed loss of control. He was sure she would adjust to him eventually, but he didn't have that time to wait.

The full moon was near. He was in a new place with a new, young pack, and his mate was unclaimed. It made his wolf side edgy, nervous and more primal than usual. The human side fought to hang onto his logic and discipline, the lupine for power dominance. He didn't stand a chance.

He released her hands to pull the tank top over her head. She wore a plain white cotton bra with a front snap. The only thing sexy about it was the woman wearing it, and it had to go. Maybe he could get her in red lace someday soon. Her nipples hardened under his gaze and with a touch he released the snap. She had full, high breasts, and her nipples were hard, the areolas peach-colored areolas. Beautiful. He could look at her all night, but first he needed to taste her.

He sucked one of the hardened tips into his mouth. She groaned, inflaming his blood more, and cradled his head in her arms. He wondered if she was always so responsive. No, it was better not to go there, not speculate. Feeling a rush of jealousy, he tightened his hold on her. The past couldn't be changed. He couldn't claim to be innocent himself, and she was his now.

He kissed his way to her other breast as he reached for the snap on her jeans, fumbled with it a minute before it finally slipped open, and tugged them down her thighs. Pushing her panties aside and cupping her with his palm, he spread her lips for a light brush of his fingers against her clitoris. She jerked in response and he groaned in pleasure--she was hot and wet and arched into his hand. He thrust two fingers inside her, circling her clit with his thumb, imagining his cock in her tight pussy.

Her breath grew ragged, and he felt her heart pounding as she rode his fingers to her first climax. She tightened around him, and he abandoned the rest of his restraint. Who was he kidding? He couldn't control this anymore than he could control the moon.

Quickly discarding his jeans and shoes, he bent to remove hers, desperate to get inside her. Still pressing her back to the door, he lifted her up, his hands cupping her bottom and she clasped her legs around his waist. With one deep thrust, he understood what it meant to have a mate. He groaned. Completion. She completed him. His heart pounded crazily out of control. He wanted to savor the moment, to make it last all night, but she moved against him and the wolf in him demanded a fast, hard claiming.

*

Meg wasn't sure how she'd gotten in this position, backed up to a wall, her legs clinging to Darius' trim waist. He was smooth and hard and thick inside her. She felt the wildness rising in him, and her muscles clenched involuntarily in response. Adjusting her position as much as she could, she felt him shift higher inside her. A soft moan escaped and a small tremor ran through him. It thrilled her. She could make him lose control too, and she realized with a kick that she wanted that.

Once he'd got inside her he'd frozen, so using his shoulders for leverage, she slid up the length of his cock, and then lowered herself back down. She drew out the long strokes until they were both gasping and trembling. He reached between them with one hand and found her aching clit, rubbing it in lazy circles. His other hand tunneled into her hair and pulled her in for a rough kiss. He took command, his tongue thrusting deeply into her mouth in a hard, marauding claim in perfect time with his cock. Each stroke came faster and harder.

She sensed he was holding back, waiting for her. He pressed her clit harder and her next orgasm snuck up on her. As it rolled through her, he clamped his hands on her hips and drove into her, rough and hurried. She cried out when she felt him bite her shoulder and the first shudders shook her body. With a low growl, he held her still as he came, his body stiffening against her while her muscles continued to clench around him.

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, content let him keep her pinned to the wall. She didn't want to move. She felt too good, too sated, and she doubted her rubbery legs would get her far anyway. Her thighs were still wrapped around his hips. He saved her the trouble of attempting to free herself by turning with her and walking around her desk to the chair.

"No, don't move," he said quietly as she tried to lower her legs. He sat back in the big leather chair and she leaned into him, resting her head under his chin.

"Once is not going to be enough, is it?" she asked. God, she hoped not. She already wanted him again.

He laughed. "No way."

The shrill ring of a cell phone broke the mood.

He sighed. "Yours or mine?"

"Not mine," she answered, moving out of his lap and reaching for her clothes. She picked up the phone and handed it to him just as it stopped ringing.

"You moved for nothing." He grinned. "Why don't you come back over here?"

"Hmm." She pretended to think it over. "Work, maybe? Believe it or not, bars do not run themselves."

She had her jeans and bra back on, and paused before pulling on her tank top. It slid to the floor and her fingers went to the stinging bite he'd left on her neck. They came away with a drop of blood.

"You bit me hard enough to break the skin?" she asked, shocked. What kind of man was he?

He turned her around and lifted her hair away from her nape.

"Let me see," he murmured. His fingers rubbed gentle circles around the spot and she felt a curious clenching inside her chest.

"I'm sorry," he added.

He didn't sound the least bit contrite. He sounded...pleased. She stepped away and picked up the shirt.

He sighed. "Do you have to do that?"

"Work? Remember?" She arched an eyebrow. "Don't you work?"

Embarrassment heated her face and she eyed the shirt like it was to blame. She didn't know anything about this man. She faced the door while she pulled on the shirt and then her sandals. She didn't hear Darius come up behind her, but suddenly he was there, with his arms circling her waist and his lips nuzzling her neck.

"I'm a photographer," he said, turning her around.

"A photographer...as in portraits?"

"Magazines mostly, some posters, anything that pays the bills," he said lightly. "I'm a freelance nature photographer."

"Oh, I see."

Disappointment knifed through her. He must be here to photograph the lake and national park. He wasn't here permanently. Funny to feel such pain over someone she hardly knew.

"How long are you going to be here?" she asked anyway. Better to get this hurt over with, work their crazy chemistry out of her system, and move on with her life.

"I'm not going anywhere, baby. I just moved here," he answered, turning her around. "I have a few out of town commitments, but the truth is I have plenty of money. I'm not accepting new assignments right now so my work won't affect us."

She nodded. Intuition warned her there was a great deal he wasn't telling her, but her quick flash of panic had passed when he said he now lived here. Her reaction should worry her. Had she promised earlier to keep her distance? And now this. She would never look at her office the same way again.

"So...maybe we should try an actual date?" She wanted to kick herself for sounding like a teenager, laughed instead and tried to joke. "Usually my dates don't start this way. Been awhile since one ended this way too."

Her attempt to joke wasn't appreciated. He stilled and she swore a predator stared back at her from his gaze, dark and dangerous. She'd made him angry, no, more like furious. Wariness tingled along her spine. She brushed aside the image of rising hackles, and wondered if she should try to read him. No. She made it a point to stay out of people's heads when at all possible. He growled, the sound sexy and frightening at the same time.

"I'm not an easygoing man, Meg. I'm possessive, and I'm used to my orders being followed without question. I don't want you going out with anyone else, and you especially won't be ending any dates like this with anyone but me. You're mine."

"Well. Wow."

She gaped at him, unsure how to respond to that outrageous little speech. Briefly, she wondered who took orders from him, but she didn't waste time on it. She had a more serious issue to deal with. That possessiveness. On one hand, she couldn't begin to imagine any other man being able to compete with Darius. On the other, she didn't want him thinking he was going to be in a position to boss her around or that she'd let him.

There was something else bothering her she didn't understand. Having sex with him had relieved a lot of the tension she had been feeling, but now she felt even more connected to him. She hadn't expected anything more than to satisfy her inexplicable craving for him. Her hand went to the mark he'd left on her neck. Something about it was triggering a memory, but it was too elusive to grasp.

"I'm not good at following orders," she said.

It was a warning, but he didn't take the hint. His arms tightened around her.

"It's not that I want to order you around. I'm not that much of a control freak. I just need to know that you're safe and," he paused and seemed to hesitate over the right word, "mine."

She was stopped from challenging his possessive streak by his phone ringing again. He didn't let her go as he answered it, and he listened in silence to the person on the other end. Finally he released her, and after dressing, he gave her a lingering kiss.

"I have to go meet some people," he said. "I'll be back before you close."

"Who are you meeting?" she asked.

He gave her a smile that smacked of paternalism, and she narrowed her eyes. "No one you know."

Evasiveness irritated her in the best of circumstances. This didn't count as one of those. He seemed to think he could make demands on her time and order her around, but he didn't have to answer a simple question? Fury bubbled up from deep inside her, and she tried to rein it in. The last thing she needed was to blow all bar's fuses because she let her temper slip.

"Don't rush," she said. Anger made her hands shake and she shoved them into her back pockets. She'd be damned if he saw how much he affected her. "I think tomorrow's soon enough for us to get together again."

He looked at her through hard eyes, his jaw clenched. "I need to see you tonight," he said.

She saw the raw need in his pale blue gaze, and struggled to conceal the crazy yearning inside her own body. She wanted more from Darius than a strictly physical relationship, but how could that be possible when he had started out keeping secrets? Oh, who was she kidding? He was irresistible, and she had no doubt she'd end up having sex with him again. The novelty would wear off for both of them soon enough. She might as well enjoy him while it lasted. Irritated with herself for her easy justifications, she nodded and hoped it didn't come back to bite her in the ass. "Fine."

"Good," he answered. He pressed a quick, hot kiss to her lips and left.

# Chapter Four

Another man, this time a game warden, had been attacked in the forest near the lake. He had managed to get to his truck and radio for help, but he wasn't expected to live. Before he lost consciousness he had told the paramedics that it hadn't been a bear, but a wolf that attacked him. Darius had known that but it was fucking inconvenient that now the humans in the area did too.

He met Eric and Trey in the parking lot of his apartment building to join in the hunt for the wolf. The back of the complex bordered a triangle of woods. The other two sides were edged by the lake and the stretch of road where Meg's house was located.

Whether it was just a wolf or a rogue werewolf was unknown--though highly likely--they were best equipped to track it. If it was a werewolf, it not only endangered the local human population, but his people as well should it be trapped by a human. They'd all end up hunted if they were ever discovered.

The three men walked into the wood line and prepared to change shape. Their sense of smell was far superior to man's, and Darius hoped he would recognize the scent of the attacking wolf. He was so on edge that his suspicious nature was beginning to look to the werewolves he could verify lived in the area, and it pissed him off. Especially being suspicious of Trey. His friend had been acting more secretive than usual, but he refused to believe he'd gone rogue.

Werewolves were very careful to conceal what they were, and it was against all of their laws to attack a human. In an age of science and medical labs and DNA, it was pure recklessness to court discovery. They weren't immune to the capriciousness of human nature, though, and had their own nuts. A small group of individuals, mostly part of a group called the Society, felt they should be able to treat humans as prey and claimed to be natural predators of humans. Trey had spent most of his life hunting them. Darius had no experience with them, but his gut sure suspected the Society. One of the outlaws was obviously testing his resolve to protect his territory. Either that or an insane were had moved into the area. A rarity, but not unheard of.

He divided the swamp into three sections, assigning one to each wolf to search. He considered calling in some of the other males to help, but discarded the idea. His two best trackers were working the area with him. Hell, no one was better at this than Trey. It was unlikely adding more noses would help.

"You seem much calmer tonight." Eric grinned at him. "She must be coming around."

"She's getting used to me," he joked, but he wasn't really feeling it. "At this rate she'll come around in fifty years or so."

Eric snorted. "What about your infamous charm, man? I thought women couldn't resist you."

"Don't ask," he said and shook his head.

Things were challenging enough between settling the pack and catching the wolf. When he added convincing Meg that she belonged with him to the mix, he cringed at an unexpected twinge of guilt. He'd marked her, biting her hard enough to mix the enzymes in his saliva with her blood. All without explaining a thing to her. He sighed. She wasn't going to like being bound to him without having first been consulted. What was the modern lingo? Freak out? That about summed up what her reaction would be.

He sent Eric and Trey in their assigned directions and walked deeper into the woods. Finding a secluded spot, he took off his clothes and shoes, and folded them into a small backpack that he dropped over his shoulders. He sat on the ground and closed his eyes, picturing a wolf in his mind. He concentrated on relaxing while his bones contorted and popped to the wolf's shape and fur bristled over his skin. He was so practiced the conversion took just a few seconds, and then he was standing in the little clearing with his nose turned up, sniffing the air.

The section he chose to search for himself included Meg's house since both attacks had occurred within the area's imaginary boundaries. His skin crawled at the thought of a predator so close to her, and her unprotected. He was putting a stop to that tonight even if he had to sleep on her deck in wolf form.

He trotted off in the direction of the most recent attack. It was a short run, and a waste of time. Too many men had been in the area, and their smells mingled with Eric's and Trey's, who'd already been there to investigate. He circled out, but found nothing, then got distracted exploring the area around Meg's house. The forest floor was cool and shady, a leafy canopy stretched overhead, and a crystal stream flowed along the edge of her property. He was going to enjoy living out here.

He circled back to where he'd left his clothes. The snapping of a twig alerted him to the presence of others. He tested the wind and caught their scents some yards behind him. He changed form and dressed quickly. He was feeling edgy and was glad they had not come upon him while he was near Meg's home. He didn't trust his reaction as a wolf to another male's presence near her house. He had to get a grip on his possessive instincts. His people would need to be able to go to him there. He hoped things would improve once she had accepted who he was and what they were to each other.

He found Eric and Trey sitting against a couple of trees where they'd started and interrupted their quiet conversation.

"Anything?" he asked.

They both shook their heads no.

"Nothing we didn't expect," Eric said. "Game wardens, paramedics, and us."

"That's all I got too," Trey answered.

Darius rubbed a hand over the ache starting in his temple. He was going to find out what was going on here, but probably not tonight.

"Okay. You two go on home."

Trey was staying with one of the other single men, but would be moving into the house he'd just bought soon. He nodded goodbye to him and Eric before approaching his building. They walked toward their cars.

"He okay?" Darius asked, nodding after Trey. "He's acting weirder than usual."

"Far as I know, he's fine. He's mostly kept to himself since he got here, but that's not anything new."

"Yeah." Darius sighed. "Hey, do you have one of those wolves you carve?" He grinned. "I need one."

"You need one?" Eric asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Meg saw one at your store."

"I see." Eric smiled. "Never thought I'd see the day when you were—"

"What?" he asked, unclenching his jaw, knowing whatever Eric said would be designed to irritate him.

"Nothing," Eric said with feigned innocence Darius didn't buy for a minute. "Stop by the store and pick up whatever it was she wanted. You've got a key, right?"

"Yeah, I'll go by and get it. You want to get a beer?"

He laughed. "No. I'm going home and getting laid. My woman isn't running away from me."

Darius growled. "Better go then before I find you something urgent to do first."

Imperturbable as usual, Eric laughed and waved goodbye as he slipped into his car.

* * *

Meg was waiting for him to come back and trying hard to pretend she wasn't, that it wasn't important to see him again so soon. But her frustration level was growing. It had been several hours. She threw herself into the pile of paperwork on her desk, caught it up and took over the bar, but he was still nowhere to be seen.

It wasn't a busy night, so she sent her afternoon bartender home at nine. It may have been slow, but the conversation was animated and outrageous. Word flew through town that Jimmy Barr, a state park game warden, had been attacked by a wolf, but there hadn't been any wolves in the area in decades. Was that why Darius had run off so quickly? But why? What could it possibly have to do with him? If chasing down wolves was his job, why wouldn't he have told her? Why be so secretive about that?

A group of regulars sat at the bar discussing the situation while she listened with half interest and slow simmering anger.

"Maybe someone kept one as a pet and let it loose," a plumber named Bill speculated.

"That's just dumb, Bill," Chuck said. "Why would a pet attack a man? It'd be used to people."

Bill shrugged. "How else do you explain a wolf being here?"

"It migrated from somewhere, obviously," Chuck said, disdain dripping in his voice.

"That's as dumb as my pet theory. Like no one would have noticed a wolf wandering around."

"No one has noticed a wolf wandering around."

"Well, maybe it's not a normal wolf," Bill said.

"What else could it be? What the hell's normal for a wolf anyway?"

Meg smiled to herself at the sudden vision she had of the two young men, old and grizzled in fifty years, still arguing on barstools inside her place. She made her way down the length of the bar, checking other costumers, when she heard a remark that had her whipping her head around in shocked awareness.

"Maybe it's a werewolf," Bill joked.

The men around him laughed. Meg tried to appear calm and steady her pulse, but her gift was screaming in sudden insight. There was a werewolf stalking the forest, and Darius was one too. She'd known there was something not quite human about him. No wonder he made her feel hunted. She was certain he wasn't a killer, though he seemed capable of it. For some crazy reason she couldn't begin to explain, she felt safe with him. Physically at least. Her heart was another matter.

The bar was beginning to clear out and a quick glance at her watch showed the hour pushing closing time. Twenty minutes till two. The last two servers on duty were herding out the lingerers, gathering glasses to wash, and lifting chairs onto empty tables. Meg filled the time restocking the bar.

She was pushing Bill and Chuck out the door when the phone rang. Glaring at it, she debated not answering. He was a predator. Smooth and lethal and controlled. Like he owned his environment and everything in it. On top of that, she had the uneasy feeling she wouldn't be able to walk away. He'd find a way to seduce her back, and that just pissed her off. He was bossy and arrogant, and he had left her hanging all night. He didn't really think she was the kind of woman who would stand being left in the dark, did he? He was in for a rude surprise if that's what he believed.

Against her better judgment, she sighed and grabbed the phone before the machine could pick up. She knew it was a mistake to give even an inch, but she couldn't seem to help herself. Besides, she wanted a few answers and he was the only one who might give them to her.

"What do you want?" she snapped.

There was a pause before he answered, "Do you always answer the phone like that?"

"Only when it's you, Darius," she said sweetly.

"I didn't notice you had caller ID on any of the phones in the bar."

"I don't. I knew it was you. Didn't I mention that I know things? I'm a witch. Surely someone's told you that?"

The servers swept and mopped, in a hurry to clock out. They caught Meg's glance and waved as they left.

"Look, I'm closing up. Can we argue later? I have a hot tub at home calling my name."

She felt a sudden flare of desire and damn it was potent. She knew she was picking it up from Darius. It jumpstarted her own libido.

"How 'bout I meet you there?" he asked. "I have a couple of things I need to do first. We'll meet in, say, thirty minutes?"

In for a penny, in for a pound. "Sure. Thirty minutes," she agreed and gave him her address. She had a few things to say to Darius Stewart. She hung up the phone, grabbed her bag, and locked up.

# Chapter Five

Her house was on the edge of the swamp, set far off the road and backing up to the wood line. The log A-frame--not exactly common in central Alabama--was on the smaller size. The master bedroom and bath were in the loft, and the bottom floor was an open kitchen and living room, with a half-bath tucked to one side. A porch wrapped around the entire place. She had seen it and fallen in love with the back deck, with its weathered redwood planks, built in bench seats, and peaceful setting. And the hot tub, of course.

Today was definitely a hot tub day. She pulled into her drive dreaming of warm bubbles, but food came first. She'd ignored dinner. It was hard to get interested in eating when your sex drive had your stomach tied up in knots and you thought your new boyfriend was a werewolf.

She pulled out the two steaks she'd left marinating in the refrigerator that afternoon, not even trying to fool herself into thinking her reason for marinating two was because they came two in the pack. After wrapping two potatoes, she put them in the oven to bake then started for the stairs so she could take a quick shower. She'd love a long soak, but she wanted answers out of Darius first. Somehow she doubted she'd get them in the hot tub, and he'd be at her house soon.

Before she could get to the shower, his car turned into the drive and her pulse kicked up. She met him at the door and opened it wide for him to enter. Words of greeting lodged in her throat., and with a questioning look, he stepped inside and looked around.

"So, this is it," he said, his voice low as if he felt her need to adjust to his presence in her space. "I wondered what the inside looked like."

He walked through the living room, running his fingers down the back of her leather sofa. Remembering the feel of those fingers on her skin just hours ago, she shivered. Her nipples tightened and her pussy clenched in need.

He paused by the docking station on a table next to her tv, looking hot and sexy, and peered at her over his shoulder.

"Do you mind?" He turned the mp3 player on. Still rooted to the spot by the door, she shook her head. "Every Breath You Take" flowed from the speakers. "Aren't you coming in?" he teased.

She forced a smile, shocked and bothered by his effect on her. It was more intense than earlier, but maybe that's because he seemed so at home in her living room. Like he belonged there.

"Of course."

He resumed meandering through her space, his presence filling it up. Finally he stopped at the bar separating the kitchen from the living room. She had left the steaks on the counter along with a salad bag and several tomatoes.

"You're planning on feeding me?" He grinned. "So I'm making progress here, right?"

The grin transformed him from dangerous hunter to sexy bad boy. She was no longer amazed at her body's intense response. Her pulse jumped and butterflies took flight in her stomach. He was definitely making progress, but there was no reason for her to admit it. Her earlier werewolf suspicions seemed ludicrous in the face of that grin, but better safe than sorry.

"I haven't eaten much today. It seemed rude to make you watch me eat," she said. "Unless you aren't hungry, of course."

She saw that her comment was a mistake as his eyes became heated and lazily studied her. The tension coursing through her body went up another notch. She was primed and ready, her sex wet and throbbing.

"I could eat," he said. He was still and quiet, alert and watchful like he was just waiting for the right moment to pounce. She was again reminded of a wolf.

"Good." She aimed for a breezy tone that sounded strangled, instead "Why don't you fire up the grill? I need to grab a quick shower."

Taking the stairs at a fast clip, she was impressed she hadn't run from the room. She felt his eyes boring into her back as she walked into the large bathroom, pulling her shirt off as she entered. She turned on the water and shimmied out of her jeans before remembering to close the door. Naked, she turned to do just that and found herself pressed against Darius from shoulder to knee. As she moved to step back, his arms snaked around her, pulling her hard against him.

"I thought you were going to start the grill," she said, hating the breathiness in her voice.

"It can wait," he murmured. His hands feathered over her back. "I can't."

She caught her breath. His simple touch curled her toes. With one hand grasping his shirt and the other cupping the back of his head, she pulled him down for a kiss. She meant to keep it light, a gentle exploration with her tongue. She hadn't counted on the fire he lit in her veins. Would she ever get used to it? Nipping her bottom lip with his teeth, he seemed to inhale her in an aggressive mating of tongues and lips and teeth.

She liked it and wanted more. Reaching for the edge of his shirt, she tugged upward. He released her and with a few jerky tugs removed his clothes.

*

He couldn't believe he had found her. His mate. And she was giving her body to him. It was infuriating. He was supposed to have her body, and her heart and soul. She was withholding what was rightly his, though he knew it was too damned soon for him to expect her to just hand it over.

She stood before him, her perfect breasts heaving, with lust and trepidation in her eyes. He was amazed at how beautiful she was. Her hair spilled down her back in rich brown waves and her lips were rosy and swollen from his kiss. She would love him. He would find a way to make her open her heart.

She tried to step back and hit the counter, where she halted and crossed her arms over her chest. Stepping forward, Darius uncrossed them and turned her to face the mirror. He held her gaze in the glass and leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"No. Look how beautiful you are." He pressed his erection against her butt. "Don't you feel how much I want you?"

Passion darkened her eyes as he rolled one nipple in his fingers, while his other hand traveled down her flat stomach. Her breath caught when his thumb found her clit and he tested her wetness with one finger. She rocked forward and forced it deeper. He pushed a second finger in, reveling in how welcoming and wet she was for him, as she rocked against him, faster and harder. An orgasm ripped through her, and her pussy clenching on his fingers drove him crazy.

Gently he pushed against her back so she was leaning across the counter, resting on her elbows. He nudged her legs apart and guided his cock into her still-convulsing core. Holding her gaze in the mirror, he began to move in and out, one hand rubbing circles on her bottom, the other matching his thrusting rhythm on her clit.

He loved her delirious expression. She was holding nothing back, giving herself to him. He saw lust and wonder in her eyes. In his effort to claim her completely, it was a start. He wanted to throw his head back and howl as the orgasm took him over. She came with him, the shudders traveling from her body to his. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against his chest, trying to catch his breath.

"The water's probably getting cold," she said after a few minutes.

"Yeah," he grunted. He picked her up and set her in the shower before stepping in with her.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall as he lightly soaped her up. It was a trusting pose, relaxed and languorous, and he assumed they'd just made a breakthrough. God, he hoped so. He liked her sated and compliant. He ran the washrag up one thigh, and she shifted slightly, opening her legs and edging forward. He grinned. He might like her a little pushy too. He turned her to the wall and pulled her hands high above her head.

"Don't move," he whispered in her ear.

Starting at her ankles, he explored every inch of her, his tongue often preceding the soapy rag. Up one leg and down the other. She shivered as his touch turned from gentle exploration to sensual. She was intoxicating spread out, open and available for him. He marveled at her and nudged her thighs apart, slipping a finger into her pussy, while his other hand explored the rounded curves of her ass. Her breathing hitched, and he growled when she tried to move.

"Don't."

When she remained motionless, a second finger joined the first. He worked them in and out in slow motion, rubbing the sensitive spot on the front vaginal wall. The scent of her arousal grew heavy in the air, and he dragged it deeply into his lungs. Sensing she was close to release, he abruptly withdrew his hand. She moaned a protest, but stayed immobile and satisfaction surged through him.

Drawn to her butt, he palmed each cheek, spreading them and imagining burying his cock there too. He dipped a finger into her pussy and, gathering her wetness on it, worked it into the tiny hole of her ass. Had to squeeze his eyes shut as he forced himself to go slow. So tight. Her breathing turned ragged, and her muscles clenched in an effort not to move. The scent of her arousal was intoxicating.

With restraint he couldn't believe he possessed, he gently eased his finger higher into her. His cock pulsed in demand and, using his feet, he nudged her legs farther apart. With his other hand, he guided it into her slick channel. Her head fell back and she shook in the throes of orgasm as soon as he lodged himself inside her. His wolf howled in triumph. She was completely his.

Grabbing her hips with both hands, he pounded into her in a steady rhythm. The feel of her body clenching around his cock was an ecstasy he didn't want it to end. He was sure he could stay here just like this forever and be perfectly happy. He came too soon, the orgasm rising from nowhere to overtake him.

He didn't come back to himself for several minutes and panicked when he realized she was limp and silent, pressed between his bulk and the slick wall. Withdrawing, he then spun her around. She smiled dreamily and leaned into him. Closing his eyes, he breathed a sigh of relief as guilt knifed through him. He was afraid for the first time he could hurt her. He had to remember to be careful, to remind himself how much stronger he was, but even now need overwhelmed him.

He cleaned them both, dried off first, and returned to turn off the water and wrap her in a towel. Guiding her into the bedroom, he sat her on the bed and looked around with interest. It was not the neatest place he'd ever been. One side was a rail overlooking the downstairs, and one wall backed up to the bathroom. A large sleigh bed was pushed against that wall. The adjacent wall contained a closet and a large dresser, and the wall opposite the bed held an armoire. Opening it, he discovered a television in the top half and overflowing drawers below it.

"Why do I get the feeling you're going to try and take over my life?" she asked lazily from the bed, suspicion giving her a voice a testy edge he found endearing instead of annoying. He laughed, a soft sound in the open air of the loft.

"Because I am," he said, leaning over to steal a kiss.

She leveled a steady gaze at him.

"What is it?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

"You have too many secrets to just barge in and try to take over."

He studied her a minute. "We'll talk about those later. I'll go start dinner while you get dressed."

# Chapter Six

She took her time, for once fussing with her appearance. At some point through the night, she'd accepted Darius would be a part of her life. The thought occupied her while she primped, both surprised and bemused at the effort. It worried her as much as it amused her. He was dangerous, a definite threat to her independence, but for the first time in forever she didn't feel alone. She felt safe and cherished. Her parents had retired to Florida years ago, and it was sort of nice to be taken care of a little. The urge to lean into Darius and let him have his way was irresistible.

Her stomach somersaulted at the revelation. This was not normal for her. This was some crazy hormonal imbalance she had been struck with all of a sudden. She didn't do relationships. So why was the idea so tempting?

She sighed and rubbed the mark on the back of her shoulder again. All night her fingers had been drawn to it. The mark of his possession, and her traitorous body was all for that. Moving to the closet, she dragged out a clean pair of jeans and opted for a baggy T-shirt. Maybe if she hid her assets, she could strike up a real conversation with him.

Say, on werewolves. She remembered her grandmother's romantic tales of the creatures and wondered about their reality. Grandma Tinnie's wolf stories were always "star-crossed lovers live happily ever after" affairs. She grinned, thinking about Darius and sex and how heavily those stories must have been edited. Dinner was on the bar when she came down, and she picked at her food in silence.

"If you aren't going to eat that, stop mutilating it and give it to me."

She looked up to see Darius scowling at her while she pushed a piece of steak around on her plate.

"Take it," she sighed and handed it over. "Guess I'm not that hungry after all."

"You have to eat," he said, exasperation plain in his voice. "Here. Try this. I grill a mean steak."

He popped a small bite in her mouth and she arched her eyebrows. A man feeding her dinner--literally. This was a first.

"Why did you do that?"

He smiled. "You've lost weight since I first met you. I like my women with a little meat on their bones."

Oh really. Anger and jealousy knotted her stomach. "Your women?" she asked. "I've got news for you, buddy. There can be only one. I don't share either. Ever."

His grin could only be described as triumphant, and too late, she sensed the trap closing over her head.

"You've decided to keep me around, huh?" He arched an eyebrow. "Just remember that's a two-way street, sweetheart."

He fed her another piece of steak and she sat back, confused. Most men would have run from the house screaming at her possessive outburst. He seemed to relish it.

"What's going on here?" she asked. "I don't invite strange men into my house and fuck them in my bathroom. Twice."

She felt her face burning, figured she was an unlovely shade of red.

"I should hope not," he said. "I might have to kill someone."

She sucked in a hard breath at the certainty in his low voice, and met his steady blue gaze.

"That would be bad," she muttered.

He laughed. "Yes, it would."

Taking her hand, he led her to the couch and handed her a box from the coffee table. She settled back against the cushions and he draped an arm across her shoulders. A smile spread across her face as she opened the box and pulled out the wolf, beginning to understand why it appealed to her so much.

"You don't miss much, do you?" she asked. "It reminded me of you when I saw it."

"Me? Why?" he asked, a wary note in his voice.

"You. Regal and strong and lonely."

"You think I'm lonely, baby?" he asked, a smile giving the corners of his eyes a sexy crinkle.

Tilting her head back to look at him, she considered her answer.

"Maybe solitary would be a better word, which is kind of funny because I usually see you with a crowd of people." She shrugged. "You still seem alone to me."

He looked at her strangely.

"What? Did I grow horns?" she teased.

He chuckled. "Most people don't see what you see. A lot of people depend on me. They always say it's lonely at the top, right?" he joked. "Besides, I'm not alone. I have you."

For now at least. He didn't strike her as the type of man who might be tied down for long. The pain in the vicinity of her heart at that thought was sharp but not surprising. She could get used to having him around. Learn to crave him, need him, like she already wanted his body.

She quickly changed the subject, and they rehashed local gossip, growing accustomed to each other's company, before the attacks came up.

"You have to promise me you'll be careful until they catch this animal," he said, tightening his arm around her.

"I don't wander around in the woods by myself, so I'm thinking I'm safe," she said, attempting to keep her tone light and casual. "It's strange, though. There haven't been wolves in this area in decades."

She paused, wondering how to bring up werewolves without sounding insane. What if she was wrong?

"Stranger things have happened." He shrugged. "Just promise me you'll be careful."

"Sure. Some of my regulars were speculating about it tonight. They came up with some wild ideas." She took a steadying breath. Just say it already. "One of them thinks it's a werewolf."

He went rigid next to her. Bingo.

Exhaling slowly, he asked, "What do you think?"

With her head resting on his chest, she heard his heart kick up a beat as he waited for her answer.

"My grandmother was an honest-to-God witch, you know. More of a witch than me. Better than me," she said, ignoring his question. "She used to tell me all kinds of stories, said there were werewolves here when she was a child." She paused. "She believed in them. The world is a strange place, and I'm not exactly normal myself."

She cradled the carved wolf in her hand and waited for him to answer. Long after Darius was gone from her life, it would remind her of him. She knew with a certainty she couldn't begin to explain that he was a wolf. The question was how much of it he was going to share with her.

"You realize people would think you were crazy if you let on you believe those old myths?"

She stiffened in his arms and he tried to soothe her, rubbing circles on her arm. Maybe she was wrong. She stood and paced across the room. She'd spent her entire life proving to this town she was a good witch, steady and dependable, and he had to go throwing the word crazy around.

"Thanks," she said, covering her hurt and disappointment with sarcasm.

# Chapter Seven

What the hell was going on in this town? He shoved a hand through his short hair. Was she trying to draw him out? His mate couldn't betray him, could she? He wouldn't believe it. The ties between them were too strong. He watched her pace the room, agitation clear in every step, and was struck by his need for this woman and how natural that seemed. He liked women, but had never wanted to keep one around. He'd certainly never wanted to share his life with one.

She looked at him sharply. "Well, maybe I never wanted to share my life with a man either. Especially with a bossy, arrogant, overbearing one. Feel free to leave any time."

Stunned she had read his thoughts but infuriated by the order to leave, he bolted up, stopped her in her tracks and grabbed her by the shoulders. "What did you say?"

"You were thinking you didn't want me in your life. Pay attention, Darius. You've been in town long enough to hear the gossip about me. I. Am. A. Witch. I told you I know things. Sometimes I catch people's thoughts. Sometimes I know what they're feeling, especially if it's strong emotion. That's why I live way out here in the woods. For the buffer."

He pulled her back to the couch and onto his lap, tightening his arms around her so she couldn't escape. Closing his eyes against the pain underlying her anger, he tried to imagine what things were like for her. How difficult would that have been as a child? Picking up the thoughts and feelings of the people around you?

"What do you know about the wolf?"

She made an exasperated sound. "Why ask if you aren't going to tell me?"

He gave her his pack alpha tell-me-now look, and she laughed.

"That works on most people, doesn't it?" Arching a brow she continued, "I'm not afraid of you. It won't work on me."

"You're an impertinent little imp, aren't you?" he said, amazed she was trying to defy him. "I won't like it much, but I will turn you over my knee."

She gasped in outrage. "You wouldn't dare!"

"Wanna make a wager on that, sweetheart?"

He gave her a minute to realize he was serious. "Tell me what you know about the wolf," he urged.

Sighing, she tried to stand up, but he tightened his arms around her. She felt too good to let go. She finally shrugged and relaxed into him.

"There are werewolves here. I'm not sure how many, but several. I don't think they normally do this kind of thing though. My grandmother's stories were about lovers, not murderers."

Such easy acceptance was a gift. He closed his eyes. He must have done something right in a past life. Of course, just because she believed the werewolves existed didn't mean she would want to be bound to one. But it certainly seemed as if her grandmother had paved the way for him.

"They aren't myth," he said in a low voice.

"I knew that," she said with irritation, looking at him through lowered lashes.

He couldn't resist leaning down to nibble on her pouting lower lip. Once there he had to taste her again and the fire built within his veins. He'd never get enough of this woman.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered.

"Well, of course not." She grinned with a saucy toss of her hair.

"I'm one of them," he said, holding her gaze, his fear she'd turn away from him making him sound a hell of a lot more grim than he'd intended.

She nodded. "I know."

"How?"

She shrugged. "They were joking about it at the bar, and it just made sense. It felt right. I can't explain how it works."

She squinted at the clock in the kitchen and tried to move off his lap. "It's getting late," she said. "You should probably be going."

He felt a wrenching in his gut. She couldn't reject him now.

"I'm staying right here," he said. She struggled in his arms, and though he hated to, he released her. He'd been sharp and she was scared. The change in her scent was easy to read, and it sickened him that he was the cause. She stood up and backed away.

"Look. I don't want to get too attached to you. You won't stay."

"Is that something else you just know?"

"Yeah. I do. You've had lots of women. None of them last long." She took a deep breath. "That's okay. I'm not good at relationships either. We should just get this...thing between us"--she waved her hand--"out of our systems and move on."

Anger and possessiveness pumped through him. She might be afraid because she didn't know him yet or understand what he was to her, but she would not dismiss him--them--so easily. Letting his intention show on his face, he stalked her through the open room as she backpedaled, trying to find a safe place to make a stand. Finally backed into a corner, she met his gaze as he took her chin in one hand and forced her to look at him.

"We will not get this out of our systems," he said, enunciating each word with care. "You are my mate. I will never let another man touch you. I will never let you go." Even the thought filled him with rage.

Her eyes widened. "Wow. You're serious about this, huh?"

"Deadly."

"I need a chance to adjust," she said weakly, as if she'd had a major blow. "Some space to think would be nice."

"You're not getting much," he said, sounding gruffer than he knew was fair, every instinct in him clamoring to tie her to him physically, if necessary. He released her and walked to the sliding glass doors, taking off his shirt as he went.

"What are you doing?"

"You need space," he said, hiding his fury behind sarcasm while he unbuttoned his jeans. "And I need to run off my temper."

He felt her eyes on his back as he removed his shoes and peeled off his jeans. Inhaling a deep draught of air, he took the scent of the forest into his lungs before turning back to see frank admiration in her eyes.

"Don't look at me like that," he warned.

"No, of course not," she said, her gaze still drinking him in.

He felt it like a touch on his skin, and he shook his head, trying to remember her need for space. He'd give her space all right. Right next to him in bed.

"Keep the doors locked. Let me have a key so I can get back in."

"There's one under the box of chlorine out there, by the hot tub."

"Ok." He nodded. "Lock this door, and don't let anyone else in. I won't be long."

She leaned against the doorframe, and he realized she wanted to see him shift. She wasn't the least bit afraid of him. With a surge of elation, he stepped back and reached for the wolf.

*

In amazement, she watched the impossible--a grown man transforming himself into a wolf. His legs contorted and changed, his torso, his arms, and his head. Finally, although she knew it had taken only seconds, he stood before her as a lone gray wolf. She felt a moment of rightness. He was hers.

On light feet, the wolf approached and butted her hand. As if they had a mind of their own, her hands buried themselves in the soft thick fur behind his ears, and she found herself on her knees looking into its eyes. His eyes, she reminded herself. Darius' eyes.

"Darius," she said, not hiding the wonder in her voice. The wolf grinned and nipped at her, licking her face playfully while she laughed. He was like an overgrown puppy. After a few minutes, he nudged her toward the door a bit more forcefully than necessary.

"Okay, okay," she grumbled. "I get it."

Under the watchful gaze of the wolf, she pulled the glass shut, and then flipped the lever to the locked position. He seemed to nod goodbye before taking three long steps and bounding off the deck to disappear into the night. Oh, it was going to hurt when he left, but she refused to worry about that. Instead she busied herself straightening the living room and cleaning the kitchen. It didn't take much time. After wiping the bar down for the third time, she decided to call it a night.

Upstairs, she found her favorite old, ratty sleep shirt, discarding the thought of finding something even a little bit sexy. This was who she was. He'd have to either accept her, or move on. But... She sighed, digging around in her dresser drawers. He would be leaving soon enough, so maybe she shouldn't push her luck.

She stepped under the bright overhead light, comparing the items in her hands. One comfy old shirt--check. One not so comfy red satin nightgown--check. One woman losing her mind--check. Rolling her eyes at her uncharacteristic behavior, she tossed the T-shirt back in the drawer and pulled the satin over her head.

She didn't look bad she decided, turning from side to side to study the fit in the mirror. The gown was long with thin spaghetti straps, and it clung to her curves. It slid over her skin like a cool caress, and she ran her hands over its smoothness, imagining Darius doing the same. Her nipples puckered as she traced them and goose bumps rose across her body. She thought about the vibrator tucked away in one of her drawers and wondered what he would think if she finished herself off. He'd probably be pissed. She snickered. Unless he was participating.

# Chapter Eight

She tried to sleep, but her body and mind were too restless, and she soon found herself at the glass door, watching the night. Darius was out there, and she was full of questions and new insights. Werewolves were real, and one of them was stalking humans. She was sure of it. She hoped her confidence that it wasn't Darius wasn't just wishful thinking. Who then, could it be?

She ventured outside and rested her hands on the deck railing, and the feeling she'd had for days, of being watched rushed back. Inch by inch she searched the shadows in the tree line. Her breath caught in her throat when a wolf suddenly stepped from the gloom she had just decided was empty. The night was black, and the area beyond the porch's weak pool of light was in complete darkness. She couldn't make it out clearly, but it felt wrong. It wasn't Darius.

As he crept into the yard, she noticed several differences. He was smaller than Darius, though not by much, and his fur was more black than gray, with silver threads shooting through his mane. Intense blue eyes held her in place and fear clogged her throat, kick-starting her heart to a stuttering leap. This was the wolf that had been following her.

Fight or flight. Why didn't anyone ever mention the other reaction to terror? Freeze. She got her legs working again and edged backward, her hands behind her feeling for the door. The wolf seemed to gather itself, its muscles bunched for a leap. A scream stuck in her throat as a second wolf dashed out of the woods, and she exhaled in relief. Darius.

The two wolves tumbled together across the yard, scratching and biting each other until the smaller one broke free and took off into the darkness, blending out of sight. With her heart lodged in her throat, she turned to see Darius shifting. Scratches down his chest and back dripped with blood but instead of going to his aid, the angry look on his face had her again backing for the door.

*

He tracked her in silence, trying to get a grip on his fury. This time she definitely had a spanking coming. He only regretted it would have to be bare handed. Following her through the door, he closed and locked it behind him. He smiled grimly at her attempt to put space between them as she edged around the kitchen bar. There was no way that bar would stop him. Nothing would. He stayed on the living room side though. For now he'd give her the illusion of safety.

"Woman, I thought I made it clear you were to stay inside," he said through gritted teeth. Anger boiled anew at his words. Why couldn't she follow a simple request? Especially when it was for her own protection?

Her chin came up proudly, eyes practically shooting sparks at him. "I told you I don't follow orders well."

"If I tell you to do something, Meg, you'd better do it. He could have killed you." His voice shook. He wasn't sure if it was from anger or fear.

She bristled at his tone, opened her mouth to speak, but snapped it shut, obviously searching for the right words to say. He crossed his arms over his chest. Good, better to get this defiance over with. Better she learn he was the boss right from the start.

"I don't know what's going on here, Darius. In one day, I've gone from single and thinking werewolves were myths, to this..." she said, waving her hand through the air. "How do I know I'm safe with you? Or that other people are safe from you? I don't know anything about you, but I'm supposed to trust you enough to do whatever you say? It's not gonna happen. So get over it!"

She stood firm as he stalked over to the sofa. He felt a moment of pride at her courage, when he didn't see even a flicker of fear in her eyes. Of course, she didn't know what was coming. She would obey him, especially when her safety was at stake. Resolve moved through him. It was time.

"Come here, Meg."

She looked startled at the order. Whether at his tone or something she saw in his face, he couldn't say.

"Why?" she asked suspiciously.

He sighed. Always testing. "Do we have to do this the hard way?"

She hesitated a few seconds, but started walking toward him. Bold as brass she came right to him. The feel of her soft breasts against his chest was a momentary distraction. Her nipples hardened on contact and he groaned as he stiffened in response. She turned her head when he bent to kiss her, and he nuzzled her neck instead, lost in her taste and scent. Reminding himself of his purpose, he abruptly sat on the edge of the couch and pulled her face down over his lap.

"Darius! What the hell?" She struggled against him but he held her down with ease.

"I don't want to do this, Meg," he said. Trying to inject a sad note into his voice, he fought a surge of lust. "But there are consequences. You will do as I say."

The gown had worked up around her hips when he pulled her down and his hand fell on bare skin. Whack!

"Ow! Darius, stop! I am not a child!"

Whack! "No you aren't." Whack! "But you acted like one." Whack! Whack! Whack!

"Okay, okay, I won't do it again!"

She bucked against him, but she wasn't trying to get away from him. Her arousal was a sweet perfume so he kept a firm grip on her. Whack!

"Won't do what again?"

She paused before answering like she wanted another tap. Whack!

"All right! Fine! I won't go outside again if you think it's dangerous."

Not exactly the answer he wanted but he didn't push her further. He shifted her so she was sitting on his lap. It was obvious from the glare in her eye that she might obey him, but she'd hate him for making her do it. And fuck. She'd be right to. A blindly obedient mate wouldn't survive living with him, needed to be strong enough to take him on in any mood much less furious.

He held her arms in front of her and reluctantly released them when she yanked. She move the straddle his lap, put her hands against his chest and pushed. He figured it was good sign. She wasn't trying to get away. Something in him settled.

"Don't you ever do that again," she snapped.

"Then don't do something so stupid and dangerous again," he snarled back, angry all over again.

Now that he past the fear he wanted to hold her, but she continued to glower at him. At least she was interacting with him. It sure as hell beat the last month of lonely nights and growing sexual frustration.

He liked the way her ire added a blush to her face and made her eyes shine. She probably wouldn't appreciate hearing that just now. His gaze was drawn to the rise and fall of her breasts, and he finally noticed her nightgown, a slinky red number that was a big improvement over the plain white bra, but it was distracting as hell. Since he was still stark naked she couldn't miss his appreciation, his cock hard against her covered pussy. The panties didn't hide her reaction either. She was wet

"You liked that," he said.

"I didn't," she protested, eyes narrowed.

He snapped the sides of her panties and she lifted enough he could grab them and toss them away. Her thighs clenched as he dipped cream from her pussy, and then he traced her lips with one finger, bringing her taste to her own lips, and her eyes widened with surprise and desire. He bent and licked it off, going back for a deeper kiss when she pushed at him again. She was breathing hard.

"No. Tell me what's going on first," she demanded.

Damn the woman. Couldn't she see he was desperate for her? She charged right on.

"Are you going to explain why it's so important I let you order me around? Who was that wolf? Why was it here?"

He didn't answer right away. He was too distracted by the feel of her warm ass on his lap and by wondering what it would take to get inside her right now. She punched him in the shoulder.

"Darius, stay with me here. If you really want to protect me, I need to know why. You can't keep me isolated and ignorant."

Well, he couldn't protect her from the realities of being mated to an alpha werewolf, could he? Especially when it was a new pack and under so much scrutiny.

"The wolf you saw out there is a rogue, hunting humans," he said, jumping right to the point. After all, the quicker he explained, the sooner they could go to bed. "We're hunting him, and until we catch him, I need you to do what I say."

"He's the one that was watching me," she said quietly. "What do you mean we? How many of you are there?"

"Seventeen. Six mates, seven with you, so twenty-four in the entire pack."

"I'm part of the pack?" she asked, arching a brow.

"Of course. You're my mate," he said, exasperated.

"You bit me," she groused. "Does that mean I'll become a werewolf now?"

He laughed softly. "No, there aren't any female werewolves."

"Don't you have daughters?"

"Yes." He shrugged. "But they can't shift."

She frowned. "Doesn't seem fair."

"I never thought about it. It's just the way things are."

"Are there only werewolves? I mean, we're not going to have any vampires show up, right?" she joked.

He laughed. "No vampires. There are other kinds of shifters. Lions, bears, pretty much anything you could imagine. About the bite..." He paused, contemplating the best way to bring up the bond.

"What about it?" she asked, suspicion lighting her eyes when he didn't go on.

"It won't change you," he assured her. "But it does tie us together."

She narrowed her eyes and rubbed the mark on her neck. She seemed to take mental stock.

"Oh my God. What does that mean? Undo it!"

He shook his head, his wolf growling a silent denial.

"It can't be undone. Even if it could, I wouldn't do it. You're mine, sweetheart."

"You're saying I don't have any choice," she whispered. "You can just barge in, take over my life, and refuse to give me a choice."

Sensing a trap and uncertain how to avoid it, he remained silent, just watching her. His heart constricted, whether at her hurt and confusion or his own, he couldn't say. He wanted to be with her. She obviously didn't feel the same sureness about him. Reminding himself she was new to this, that she hadn't spent her life waiting to find the right mate, didn't help.

"How does it work? This bond?"

"There are enzymes in my saliva. When it combined with your blood, it connected us."

The explanation didn't reassure her. She sighed.

"Is there a hierarchy in this pack?"

He grinned and watched her composure slip a little. He suspected she already knew the answer to that question, too.

"There is."

"Well?" she asked, annoyance shining in her eyes.

"There's a pack leader, the alpha, who has a second in command. Or two, really. A beta and an enforcer."

Taking a deep breath, she nodded, before saying with exasperation, "And of course you're that pack leader. Aren't you?"

"Yes," he said.

She got up and paced around the room, the red satin sliding over her curves and making his mouth go dry. She seemed oblivious to what she was doing to him. Then she spoke, and he felt her words like a slap.

"It's really late. You should probably go," she said.

"What?" Hadn't she heard a word he said? "I'm not leaving." He stood and walked around the coffee table. "Didn't you listen to anything I just said?"

"Oh yeah." She put her hands on hips, a pose that forced her breasts out and had his dick taking notice. "Werewolves, rogues, mates. Heard all that. I need some space here, and frankly I don't know about this getting involved with a werewolf thing."

To hell with this. He tossed her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

"Hey! Put me down, Darius!"

"In a second," he said, swatting her butt for good measure. He was glad she couldn't see his grin. "You're already involved. I want you in a position where you have to listen."

"You could try putting me down and talking like a civilized person, you know."

Dropping her on the bed, he came down hard on top of her.

"Well, that's the thing, sweetheart. I'm not all human. I'm half wolf." He nudged her thighs apart and settled over her. His erection throbbed. Fuck, she felt perfect. "And I'm not feeling very civilized right now."

*

"Let me up," she demanded, but made no move to free herself.

She'd been fantasizing about him for what felt like a lifetime, right down to that spanking, and he felt so damned good in top of her. Down girl, she told herself sarcastically. He was heavy, propped on his elbows watching her, and she found his weight comforting. It felt right, Darius here in her bed. She didn't want to examine that yet. He'd used some werewolf voodoo to bind them together, and she was supposed to be pissed off. She was pissed off. Also, a lot turned on. She groaned mentally. This wouldn't do.

"Nope. I've explained things now, and I want to know why you're still resisting me."

Sighing, she turned her head and saw the wolf on her dresser. So lonely. So Darius.

Looking back at him, she whispered, "I was thinking while you were gone that it's really going to hurt when you leave. I'd just as soon get that over now. And now you tell me about this bond thing." She glared. "That was sneaky and unworthy, don't you think? I might have come around in my own time."

Laughing, he shook his head.

"Don't know much about wolves, do you? Your grandmother missed a couple things in her stories."

"Apparently." She smacked him in the chest, and he finally got serious.

"Wolves mate for life, baby," he said, and rubbing his chest where she had hit him. She rolled her eyes.

"Like that hurt."

He flashed her a grin. "I'm not going anywhere. And I'm sorry I didn't give you a choice. A lot of what I'm doing is instinct, but..."

"But what?"

"I didn't have any more time to give you. You're the one who's spent almost a whole month avoiding me."

She gasped. "Don't blame it on me!"

Apparently, he decided arguing wasn't getting him anywhere and he shifted gears. His new tactic involved sliding the gown up her hips. He was cradled between her legs and she was wet and ready. He cupped her face, and with practiced ease slid his tongue into her mouth and his cock into her pussy. It was impossible to stay mad.

Her eyelids drifted shut and she went with the moment. She could get used to this. And him. Even if he was impossible and bossy. When he left...her eyes flew open. Oh my God, she was in love with him. No, that was impossible. She hardly knew him. But how else could she explain the tearing in heart at the thought of him leaving? What if what he said was true? She let the block she'd been using drop. Feeling the full strength of the bond between them, she finally started to accept he was part of her future.

*

He reveled in the change as it came over her, enjoying her pleasure as if it were his own. Her breath came in gasps, her heart pounded, and warmth moved across her skin. Gritting his teeth, he knew he wouldn't last amid the maddening intensity much longer. He reached between them, found her clit, and rubbed it in a speed matching his thrusts, each a little harder, a little closer on the heels of the first.

He felt her tighten around him, heard her gasp his name, and knew the second she flew apart in his arms. He stroked into her to find his own release.

"Don't leave me," she murmured when he rolled off her.

He turned her on her side and pulled her back against his chest. Wrapped around her like that, the protective posture filled him with contentedness. Sighing, he brushed her hair from her face and settled a kiss on her temple.

"I won't," he said, but she was already asleep.

# Chapter Nine

He woke her before dawn, hands gentle on her breasts before sliding one down to her sex. She winced, and he froze.

"Did I hurt you?"

She heard the growl in his voice, felt the rumble in his chest pressed against her back, and shook her head. "Just sore. It's been a long time, and last night was...a lot."

Humming, he rolled onto his back and pulled her around so she was laying over half his chest. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, his other hand on the small of her back. She threw one leg over his and his chest rumbled again. He held her tight when she would have pulled away.

"Why are you here?" she asked. "Where did you and your people come from?"

She lightly scratched his chest when he tensed. "Is it something bad?"

He relaxed with a sigh. "It wasn't fun." He paused and she got the sense he was gathering his thoughts so she didn't push. "We're from Tennessee, closest city is Knoxville. Our alpha died suddenly. Usually the line of succession is very clear, but Brant hadn't had a beta in years. He used me, Eric--who's my beta here now--and our friend Jackson for the jobs a beta would normally take on, though officially I was his enforcer."

"He used you against each other?" she guessed.

"Yeah. After his death, it pretty much came down to me and Jackson. A few decades ago we would have fought over who became alpha, probably to the death, but we don't do things that way anymore. Usually."

"I can't see you losing," she said. She pressed closer to him, feeling his hurt and frustration.

"Jackson and I are very closely matched," he said softly. "I can't predict that outcome, and thankfully we didn't test it. The council of alphas came and made the choice for us. Most of the adult males in the pack wanted Jackson so I was banished."

She leaned up to stare down at him and he pushed her hair back behind her ear. "Banished?"

He nodded. "I was offered four locations to start my own pack, places where there were packs once. Except Atlanta."

"Atlanta had a werewolf pack?" She had a hard time picturing a bunch of werewolves in a big city.

"The Regis's pack. He was our king, but he was murdered and had no living heir that could be found. He had a daughter who disappeared before that happened but she's never been found. That was before I was born. Now each pack rules itself and the alphas meet once a year for decisions that affect all of us."

"So in a year you'll go to that meeting?"

"We'll both go, baby. It's in Florida next year. Panama City."

He was holding something back. "What aren't you telling me?"

He sighed, pulled her back to lay on his chest, and held her tight. "I have the next eleven months to prove myself. To hold this pack and integrate its members into the town. If I don't do that to the council's satisfaction, the pack is fair game to any challengers."

She froze and he brushed his fingers through her hair. It was soothing, an offer of comfort. "I'm not worried about that, baby. There are very few werewolves who could challenge me and win, and they won't want to leave their own packs."

"What about these rogues?"

He snorted. "They have their own pack, so to speak, called the Society. No one in my pack would follow a rogue. He'd have to kill everyone. And he'd never survive Trey."

It took her a minute to remember where she'd heard the name. "He's got a thing for my cousin."

She felt his surprise. "You're sure? Who is she?"

"Tara Burke. She owns the bakery in town. Who is he and why does it surprise you so much? Should I be worried about her?"

She wondered if they were talking about the same person after he told her about hunters and Trey's former position with them.

"I don't think we're talking about the same guy. The one I saw...he was gentle with her. Protective but he didn't feel dangerous on the level you're describing."

He didn't respond but she could feel him speculating. Damn, this bond thing was intense.

"Do you miss it? You're home?"

"It's beautiful here and I can make it a place I belong. I have to, but the mountains will always be part of me. They'll always be the place I call home."

She understood that feeling. Some places were part of you, claimed you in their own way. For her, that was where they lived. It had always been home, and she'd never wanted to leave it. To be forced out of the place that was yours had to suck. He squeezed her shoulders.

"It's okay, you know. I was pissed, and a little bitter for awhile honestly, but if things hadn't gone down the way they had I wouldn't have found you. And I wouldn't give you up for anything, Meg," he said softly.

His admission, his easy acceptance and absolute confidence that they belonged together threw her for a loop all over again.

"Why nature photography?" she asked, desperate for a topic not focused on her or them or werewolves.

"I've always loved taking pictures. Catching a moment in time and being out on my own, getting a look at the unknown. It suits me."

Something in his tone or maybe in the bond he'd forged between them, warned her that wasn't the whole story. He didn't give her the chance to pursue it.

"Why do you run a bar?"

She snuggled closer to him and felt him relax as she accepted the change of subject. "It was my father's. He gave it to me when my parents retired a few years ago."

"You're young to own a bar."

She heard the scowl in his voice. "Twenty-five. How old are you?"

"Thirty-three."

She wouldn't have guessed their age difference was that big and he seemed pretty neutral about it.

"I grew up in that bar. Dad gave it to me when I turned twenty-one with the understanding I could do whatever I wanted with it. Keep it or sell it."

"Did you ever consider that?" he asked softly.

She'd never considered it. "Nope. Maybe it's in the blood. I always knew it would be mine and most of the time I love it. I work for myself and my bar is a big part of this town. And I love this town."

"When don't you love the bar?" he asked. She heard the smile in his voice.

"It's demanding, you know, running a bar or restaurant or anything retail. The hours can be a killer and staff turnover is always a concern. Sometimes I spend sixty or more hours a week at the bar. It's why I haven't been involved with someone in so long. The business takes so much."

He tensed under her for a second. "In most packs there are a couple of meeting places, and one is usually a bar. I can help with the personnel issue. The younger, single guys often pitch in at the bars after their day jobs. I've got a few."

Huh. Interesting. "What's the other place?"

"What?"

"You said there were two gathering places."

"The alpha's house, if he's mated. It tends to be a place the mates feel comfortable, where they can take their kids and feel safe. They tend to be a lot larger than this house, and everyone in the pack is welcome."

She needed her privacy. That's why she lived out in the middle of nowhere. But she knew, instinctively, Darius needed contact with his people and she could block a lot of the time. Also, having people come and go here wouldn't be nearly as bad as living downtown like Tara did. She had to try. She wanted this thing with him, and he had to be with his pack. It's not like the pack was moving in.

"I guess we could expand the house."

His arms tightened around her. "We can find another way, baby. Trey just bought a house. Eric and Mary are looking."

"But you're their alpha. It should be your place, right? Unless...you don't want..."

He nipped her throat. Hard. "I want you," he growled. "But this place is your sanctuary. I won't take that from you. I can't."

Damn. That was almost sweet. "We could build another house. We could actually build a lot more houses. I own five acres here."

His hand tightened on her hip. "You'd do that for my pack? Offer that?"

"It would keep you here? With me?"

She heard the neediness in her voice, the yearning. He rolled them over and nipped at her throat.

"You're mine, Meg. I will always come home."

She felt his words in her chest. A painful, pure truth.

"Is Meg short for Margaret?"

It was a completely unexpected subject change and she burst out laughing. "No. it's Megan."

"Nice to meet you, Megan," he said with a grin so sinful she blushed. Then he thrust into her and she forget all about thinking.

# Chapter Ten

Bright early afternoon light streamed through the kitchen windows as Darius poured his second cup of tea. Meg was moving around upstairs, and he wondered if he had enough time to go up before his visitors arrived. Hearing the soft tapping on the sliding glass door, he sighed and let Eric and Trey in. At least the nagging suspicion about Trey was allayed after seeing the wolf last night. It wasn't Trey. It wasn't any of his people. And maybe, if Meg's cousin's new love interest was their Trey, he didn't have to worry so much in that direction.

"Tea?" he asked quietly, getting mugs from the cabinet. He waited until they were sitting at the bar sipping their hot beverages before going on.

"I saw the rogue last night."

"Ow! Damn!" Eric exclaimed, glaring at Darius as he mopped up the spilled tea. "Warn a guy next time, will you?"

"Sorry." Darius grinned. "Didn't expect my words to have that kind of effect."

Sensing movement on the stairs, he turned to watch Meg enter the kitchen. Blowing a loose strand of hair out of her eyes, she arched a brow in question at the men at the counter. He could almost hear her thinking, okay, what now?

"Good morning." She nodded at them and sniffed the air suspiciously.

"That isn't coffee I smell," she said.

He laughed. "We don't drink coffee. Well, except Trey here, but he's a little strange, even for us." He arched a brow at Trey, who snorted.

"They can't handle coffee," Trey said, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. "I, on the other hand, can drink it all day long." He paused and glared at his mug. "Please make some coffee."

She laughed and filled the coffeemaker. When she stepped back to wait for it, Darius pulled her against him. Bending to nip at her neck, he whispered in her ear, "Afternoon, baby."

From the corner of his eye, he caught Eric and Trey exchange a knowing grin. No more trouble on this front, at least. Keeping his arm around her, he turned and introduced her.

"We were just discussing the wolf."

"Oh goodie. I wouldn't want to miss that," she said.

Eric laughed, "Just what you need, Darius, a woman with an appreciation for sarcasm."

She glared. "Go ahead and laugh," she bitched. "The rogue isn't stalking you."

The light mood evaporated in an instant, and the two men turned matching, laser-blue gazes on her.

"He's stalking you?" Trey asked. His voice was calm and his expression cold.

The sudden shift reminded Darius that Trey was the deadliest predator among them. He spared a moment of sympathy for the woman who would someday live with him. Meg blinked and took a step back. Trey turned to him when she didn't answer.

"Apparently, he's been watching her," Darius said, his mood going as grim as his men's. "She thought it was me."

"I didn't think you were a danger to me," she interrupted. "Not seriously."

"He was here last night," Darius said, anger a controlled thread in his voice.

"Who is it?" Trey asked.

"I don't know." He shook his head. "I've never seen him before. We've been hunting him like a wolf, though. I think it's time we start looking for him as a man."

Eric nodded and turned to Trey. "Time for our private investigator to get involved," he said. "It's perfectly natural for Darius to hire someone to find whoever's stalking his woman."

"His woman?" she asked, glaring at him.

She poured coffee into the two mugs she'd set on the counter. Trey reached for one, took a deep breath of the rich brew, and smiled. Meg blinked at the transformation on his face.

"I think y'all are living in the wrong century."

He smirked. "Maybe. But we protect our own."

She sputtered in outrage. "I can take care of myself."

Darius grinned. He had been afraid of his reaction with his men around Meg, and was glad to find he was in easy control. He was proud of her. Surrounded by three predators, she wasn't afraid and she wasn't backing down. He could see Eric was impressed with her too, although Trey watched with disapproval. He laughed silently. It be entertaining when Trey pursued his mate. Standing, Trey nodded at Meg before turning to Darius.

"Thanks for the coffee. I'm going to get to work."

"Keep me posted."

Darius walked him to the door and pushed Eric out with him. Smiling, he turned back to Meg. She stood her ground, her arms crossed, her expression mutinous.

"I won't do anything stupid. But I'm not helpless. I can take care of myself," she said.

He nodded. "I know you can, but you don't have to." He pulled her into his arms and his heart twisted. She stiffened and he searched for a way to reassure her. "The pack doesn't work if we can't, and don't, depend on each other."

"And I'm part of the pack," she said, settling into him a little, the tension beginning to ease from her body.

"Yes," he whispered. "I'm not so good with words, Meg, but I hope you understand you're my life. I couldn't stand it if something happened to you."

"Oh," she said, her voice surprised. Tilting her head back, she smiled up at him. "I think you're not so bad with words."

"I'm improving." He grunted.

Nodding, she added, "If you break my heart I'll hunt you down and kill you."

His breath caught in his throat. "So I have your heart?"

She laid her head back against his chest. "You think I'd put up with you otherwise?" She laughed. "There is no sex that good, Darius."

"I don't know." He put his hands on her butt and pulled her into his erection. "Sex with you is pretty impressive."

Laughing, she pulled out of his arms, the image of a confident, sexy woman. She crossed the room, tugging her shirt off at the bottom of the stairs. With her hand on the rail, she turned and tossed a sultry smile over her shoulder. "Don't follow me up if you don't love me back, okay?"

Her feet hadn't hit the third stair before he tossed her over his shoulder. He didn't have sweet pretty words to give her, but just in case she still wasn't convinced, he whispered in her ear as he laid her down on the bed, a euphoric feeling of gentleness overwhelming him.

"I love you back."

She smiled up at him. "I know."

#  MORE FROM LORIBELLE HUNT

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Lunar Mates

Under Cover Of The Moon

Bad Moon Rising

Chasing The Moon

Call Of The Moon

Christmas Moon

Claiming The Moon

Captured Moon

Hunter's Moon

Risking The Moon

Sovereign Moon

Delroi Connection

Invasion Earth

Leaving Earth

Stolen Earth

Claiming Earth

Delroi Prophecy

Freedom

Irresistible

Redemption

Absolution

Delroi Warrior

Shadow Warrior

Dark Warrior

Star Warrior

Lost Warrior

Delroi Novellas

Galinn

The Varangian Chronicles

Viking's Heart

Viking's Dream

Viking's Awakening

The Elect

Protector

Guardian

Warrior

Sentinel

Redstar Werewolf Pack

Once Bitten

Twice Shy

Third Time Lucky

Mated By Christmas

Pride Law

The Secret

The Return

The Alliance

Forbidden Passions

Passions Recalled

Renegade Passions

Secret Passions

Bad Moon Rising

Unedited Excerpt

The house was in the forest a few miles from the closest town. It was a cozy little A-frame with a wide porch on back. Lying hidden in a dark, back corner of that deck, the sleek, black wolf lifted his head, letting the conversation drift out around him. Two women chatted peacefully inside, one small and curvy with rich brown hair. Meg O'Reilly was the pack leader's mate, and in his absence the pack watched over her, especially here in her own home, isolated as it was. The wolf had come to like her. She was fiery and strong and giving Darius a run for his money.

The other though...she was an enigma.

Tara Burke. Not his type—average height, too skinny, weird spiky, wine-colored pixie hair. But since he'd first seen her, he was obsessed. He decided she was the perfect height, not average at all. She'd fit so snuggly tucked under his arm. And skinny? No, she was long and sleek, and he longed to feel her legs wrapped around him when he plunged deep into her warm wet depths.

She had the face of a pixie too, delicate upturned nose, funky hair, big eyes, and sharp chin. And her smell. The wolf edged towards the door, breathing deep—cinnamon and chocolate and something that vaguely reminded him of baking bread. That scent was going to be the death of him. She smelled of home and stability, and things a man and wolf like him had no right to dream of.

Darius had been gone for two weeks. Two weeks filled with hunting for a rogue wolf, guarding Meg O'Reilly, and also watching over Tara Burke. The rogue continued to evade him, frustrating him with his seeming invisibility. Though it appeared he had stopped stalking their people, Trey's gut told him not to let his guard down. He'd learned that lesson the hard way.

Tara stood and carried something to the sink, pausing to stare out at the night. If he weren't so well hidden, he'd swear she looked right at him. His mate. He felt the truth of it deep in his marrow.

He shook his head. The lack of sleep was surely driving him insane. He was turning fanciful. Thank God, Darius was due home any minute, and that after work, Tara had headed straight for Meg and safety. With a rogue wolf on the loose, he was glad to see Tara was using her head and avoiding spending her evenings alone. He was looking forward to some down time tonight.

When she spoke to Meg though, he silently cursed his luck.

"It's nine already," she sighed. "I need to get going if I plan to get any sleep tonight."

So much for the down time. He quickly shifted and reached for his cell phone and clothes tucked in the nearby shadows. He wasn't taking the chance of leaving either woman alone.

He reached for his phone. It was answered on the first ring.

"Randall, I need you to watch Meg," he ordered

"On my way," the man answered without hesitation.

Once dressed, Trey stepped into the light spilling onto the deck just as Tara turned, lifting her hand to her throat. With a pang of regret, he realized she was afraid of him, not just his sudden appearance outside the door. He didn't want things to begin between them this way, but he had no time to make unobtrusive arrangements. There was no way he was letting her travel the dark country roads alone.

Meg turned and smiled in question, obviously wondering why one of the werewolves was suddenly making his presence known. A brief half-smile in response was all he could manage before his gaze unerringly returned to Tara.

He saw her several days a week, often making excuses to stop by her place for coffee, trying to ease her into relaxing around him. But always, as soon as he walked through her door, she tensed, apprehension in her pretty blue eyes. His intensity put a lot of people off, but the stab of regret he experienced that his own mate feared him surprised him.

A pretty blush spread up her neck, the pulse beating wildly on her throat. Maybe he'd given her too much room. There was alarm in her eyes, yes, but something else she tried to conceal. Interest. She stepped back, breaking free of his stare, and looking helplessly at Meg, who jumped in to introduce them.

"Tara, have you met Trey Williams yet?" She turned and winked at him. "This is my cousin, Tara. She owns the bakery downtown."

"We've met," he replied.

"Yeah," Tara answered in a fake cheery voice. "Well, I need to be heading out." She cast a suspicious look at him and turned to Meg. "You gonna be okay?"

Meg laughed. "Fine."

Reaching out, Trey grabbed Tara's arm as she stepped toward the door. He was surprised at the shock of recognition and lust that jolted through him at the touch of her skin and couldn't resist tugging her closer. With every sense focused so acutely on her, it would have been impossible to miss the way her breath caught in her throat, the way her tongue darted over suddenly irresistible lips. Meg's discreet cough was the only thing that saved him from claiming the mouth that had been haunting him for weeks in an aggressive kiss.

He reigned in his lust and slid his hand down her arm to capture her fingers. "You can't leave yet," he said softly, noting the change from lust to anger darken her eyes. It was fascinating. Everything about her captivated him.

He let her pull free, though he had to fight every instinct to do so. She stepped back only to find herself brought up short by the tall counter that separated the kitchen and living areas. The compulsion to follow her was irresistible. He didn't even try. He followed, pinning her in against retreat, between two bar stools. Her nostrils flared in anger and she leaned around him to see Meg.

"Can't you do something about this oaf?"

"Um, probably not, no." Meg laughed, moving to a front window as car lights swept the room.

"That'll be Randall," he said, looking down at Tara. "As soon as he's settled, I'll take you home."

"I don't think so."

Palms flat against his chest, she hesitated, then pushed him away. His blood heated at her touch, and he almost didn't give her the illusion that she had control of the situation. His wolf side was clamoring to claim her, here and now, willing or not.

A second set of headlights flashing through the room divided his attention. He had made only one phone call.

"Stop!" he barked at Meg as she reached for the door handle. In a few quick strides he positioned himself between her and the door while she looked up at him, startled. He nudged her away.

"Go over there with Tara. Let me see who this is."

He waited until she was across the room, then eased the door open in time to see Darius sending Randall off. Opening it wider, he moved aside for Darius and retreated back to Tara's side.

"Darius!" Meg squealed and rushed across the room.

Trey watched, jealousy eating at him as the big man, his friend and Alpha, swept his mate up in a fierce clasp. He wondered what it would take to get Tara to greet him like that. Even as an observer, the kiss was searing and he looked away.

Automatically his gaze sought her out, also watching the lovers and gaping in disbelief at her relative. Amusement broke jealousy's grip. Her gaze snapped to him and he enjoyed the flush that rushed over her skin. He started to reach for her when he heard Darius's humor filled voice behind him.

"Trey, I seem to remember you saying you weren't going to lose your head when it happened to you."

He shot Darius a cautioning look followed by a slight headshake. Tara was still in the dark about what they were, and her role in his life. It was obvious Darius took the hint when his eyebrow arched in disapproval. Trey ignored him. He was used to going his own way.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked, reaching for her keys

"What are you doing?" She looked between his face and her keys, and held her hand out. "Give those back. Please."

Sighing, he laced their fingers together. "I'm taking you home. Get over it."

He wondered if he could get away with taking her to the house a mile down the road that he'd just bought, but one look at her drawn face convinced him not to try. She may feel something between them, but she obviously wasn't happy with it.

"Meg will vouch for me. I'm perfectly safe," he said, trying to look innocent.

"Sure you are," she answered, a grin tugging the corners of her lips when Meg nodded. With a theatrical sigh she, pulled free of his grasp, and picked up her bag.

"Let's go then. I have to be at work at three and the night ain't getting any younger."

# COPYRIGHT

Loribelle Hunt

Copyright 2016 Loribelle Hunt

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

