Bad Boy Werewolf: Bad Boys of BDSM (Werewolf New Adult BDSM Romance. Bad Boys of BDSM.) (12 page)

“What about Queen Charlotte Islands, hmmm, girl?” The dog just sniffed another tulip and ignored Warren.

But he thought a trip to Haida Gwaii might be just the thing. He’d never seen the islands of his ancestors, though Grandma had told him what she remembered of Moresby. Even though he lived in Richmond, relatively close to the place of the Hadia Nation, it might as well have been a world away. Particularly when he was a kid, and he and Gran had to make due on her tiny pension and some left over from his parent’s insurance. He’d been a Surrey boy back then. How far he’d come, he mused.

Little Tulle stiffened, and the short hairs along her spine stood up. She curled her lip and focused forward as she let out a low, warning growl.

“What’s up there?”

Warren held the leash tightly and shielded his eyes against the harsh glow of the globular streetlamps. At first, he saw only darkness and hedges, but then something shifted in the shadows. Something with massive shoulders hunkered low at the end of the walkway. It rose up a bit, and he caught a glimpse of pointy ears atop a shaggy head.

“Hello?” he called, and instantly felt the fool for it.
Haven’t you seen enough horror movies to know NOT to do that?
he thought, then he turned on his heel and said, “Come on, Tulle. Let’s go home.”

But the thing at the end of the path growled, loud and ferocious. Fear tingled along the back of his neck. It zipped electric spikes up and down his spine. He picked up Tulle and walked faster.

The creature let out another angry snarl. Then it started to charge toward them. It’s lumbering gait made an ominous
thuwp thuwp
against the concrete sidewalk.

Warren put speed under his heels and ran. He dared only a quick glimpse behind him. “Oh fuck,” he blurted, when his gaze lit on a ball of powerful fur and muscle streaking closer.

Warren ran faster.

Claws dug deep into the meat of his back, tearing his t-shirt to shreds with an audible
briiiiiiip.
Tulle flew from his arms and landed on her feet. The dog took one look behind her, as if to say, “Sorry, dude!” and then she booked it out of there big time.

The creature smelled of wet dog and forest undergrowth. It sank powerful teeth into Warren’s shoulder and he screamed. He thrashed under the weight and strength of the beast, finally flipping onto his back and pinning the creature beneath him.

Warren reached behind him with one shaky hand, searching for his attacker’s eyeballs. With much effort, he managed to find them and jab a thumb deep into the soft, egg-like eyeball. The sensation was disgusting, but revulsion was the last thing on his mind. Survival occupied his every thought. He dug the thumb in deeper as the thing tried to thrash away. A soft pop sounded, and eyeball ran down his hand. The creature howled in pain and the claws in his back loosened then fell away.

Pain shrieked through the muscles of his back and neck. Warren touched the wetness that trickled down his clavicle. Blood, and lots of it, streaked his palm. Though his world was blurry, like someone smeared greasy fingers over his vision, he pulled a deep breath into his lungs, pushed down the weak feeling, and ran again.

The thing was in pursuit once more. He felt its hot breath on his heels. Warren thought it would take him down again, but then two gunshots sounded, followed by a whimper and a piercing series of yips. He turned to see the beast that pursued crumple into the green grass, just as he did. It looked like an oversized timber wolf, he thought, just before blackness bloomed over his sight, stealing consciousness away.

A short time later, face pressed in the cool, damp grass, Warren heard voices.

“Bastian will be happy we’ve brought down the rogue. That bastard almost got us neck deep in trouble with the humans.”

Someone nudged Warren’s knee with a foot. “Should we take this one back with us, too?”

“Nah,” the man paused, and the sound of a match striking filtered into Warren’s ears. “Underground’s already overflowing. We’re gonna have to dig new tunnels at this rate. Leave him here. I’ll call an ambulance on our way out. I’m sure he’ll find his way to us eventually anyhow.”

Warren felt too weak to stand yet. He let himself drift off as the two men walked away. The next sound that awoke him was the screaming siren of an ambulance.

***

One Month Later

“Hey, babe.” Tamara rubbed Warren’s wrist. “How’re you feeling now?”

Hey took the glass of water she held out with her other hand, gulped down half of it, then replied, “I’m fine, sweetie. No worries. It was just some weird reaction to my meds, I’m sure.”

Her heart shaped face crinkled in a frown. “Weird reaction my ass. You woke up in the park again, naked and holding a headless raccoon.”

His throat went instantly dry, and he reached for the glass of water once more, draining it.

It had been one month since he’d suffered the attack in the park. His world turned upside down that evening, when he’d been mauled by a vicious, strange animal and left for dead by two mystery men. Thankfully he’d healed quickly, though he did have to take a leave from work. And Tulle was found not far off. The people who returned her kept her well fed and happy over her short stay. She gave Warren an apologetic look when he and Tamara picked her up, as if to say, “Sorry I deserted you, Dad, but he was skeery!” How could he hold a grudge against such warm, chocolate brown eyes? He forgave her without a thought.

The weirdness didn’t start again until the other night, when a full moon bloomed and climbed high in the sky. It seeped into his dreams and scratched across his brain. Illusion and reality melted together.

He was in the forest near the park, naked and alone. The moon shone silver down upon him. His limbs ached, felt separate from his body. They thrummed and stung, as if tiny beetles skittered beneath his flesh and gnawed on his nerves.

He was changing…

His bones cracked and broke. He screamed and crumpled from the intense pain that lacerated his being. His muscles went into intense spasms as his DNA shifted his skin.

His vision changed, and so did his perception of his surroundings. Something primal, ancient, invaded his mind and flesh. He was human but not.

Then there’d been death, blood, shredded fur. The taste of raw meat and wet copper in his mouth. His nose was constantly wet, and every smell seemed amplified in his nostrils. Like he could smell each grain of pollen in the wild sunflowers he trampled through.

He’d woken up in the park again, with two police staring down at him in confusion.

Tamara shook his knee, bringing him out of his thoughts. “You sure you’re okay?”

He gave her a weary smile and got up out of bed. His shoulder still throbbed when he moved quickly. “I’m fine, hon.” He spoke through clenched teeth, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

“We can call off dinner tonight,” she said. “I don’t mind--”

“No.” He whirled around, breathing hard, feeling funny. “Nope. Tonight is special.”

She smiled at him, drew closer. “We could just stay in and do something special.”

He thought about the ring tucked in his top dresser drawer for over a month now. He thought about coming out to her. Something he’d put off since the attack. Maybe now was the right time? A sharp pain lanced through his shoulder. Maybe it couldn’t wait until dinner. He winced and went to her. They sat on the bed.

“Tamara, I have something to tell you.” He looked into her wide, blue expectant eyes. She was a beautiful woman, he thought. Dimples in her cheek. Two blonde braids falling over her shoulder. She had farm girl charm. He took her hands and continued. “First, I’m bisexual.” He waited for her reaction.

She shrugged, smiled, and looked interested. “That’s fine. Confession? I read gay porn. So I like a little man on man action from time to time.”

He laughed at this, feeling relief until pain seared through his ribs, making him double over.

“Warren!” She grabbed his arms and helped him sit back up. “I think we should get you back to the hospital.”

His response was a guttural growl that made her skitter off the bed, eyes wide as she gaped at him. “Shit, what happened to your face? Let’s get your coat and--”

He growled again and his nose stretched out, elongating as it moved farther from his face and tapered to a muzzle.

What the hell is happening
? he thought frantically. If he was a werewolf--which he’d been considering in earnest these past few days--shouldn’t he only change on the full moon? Why would the change happen now? He had to try and get control of it before he hurt Tamara.

I was stressed
, he thought as he struggled to bring his mind back to human.
I was stressed about telling her and I started reliving events in the park…
 

…the change occurred.

Tamara shrieked, “You’re some kind of a monster” and ran from their bedroom. Tulle dove under the bed.

Warren let out a garbled cry for her to “Stop. Wait.” He focused harder on stilling this new beast within, hoping his efforts would work as he stumbled from the bed in search of his girlfriend.

Soon his vision cleared and the pain ebbed. He’d tried to invoke calming thoughts, a meditative state, even though he was right in the heart of chaos.

He felt his canines retract to normal. Saw the extra hair recede back into his skin, just as Tamara ran out the front door, crying and babbling incoherently.

He went after her. “Tamara, please, wait!”

She slipped inside the elevator, but he was still a few feet away. The doors slid shut, obscuring her mascara and tear streaked face, and his heart sank. If he went for the stairs, ran at top speed, he might be able to meet her at the front entrance to their apartment building. He made a beeline for the stairwell.

Warren’s sneakers squeaked on the lino covering the steps. He fled down the final staircase, flung open the side entrance, and sprinted to the front of the building. All the while, the beast raged inside, trying to claw its way out of his flesh and be free. He barely managed to contain it, but as long as he focused all his thoughts on something calm and pushed the beast back, it seemed to work. For now, at least.

“Tamara,” he called out as she fled down the sidewalk, just a few feet ahead of him. “Let me explain.” She frantically tried hailing a cab as she went.

He put his last boost of strength beneath his heels, crossing the short space between them just as a cab slowed down at the curb in front of her. He touched her arm, and her fingers paused as they opened the car’s back door.

“What…what are you?” she whispered, looking up at him through a veil of golden lashes.

“I don’t know.” He shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans and sighed. “I think I’m a werewolf.”

She shook her head, screwed up her face. “That’s insane. I… I’m sorry, Warren. I need some time to think.”

He put his hand on her wrist, stopping her from entering the cab. “But I was going to propose to you just now.”

Tears came then, spilling down her ivory cheeks. “I… can’t. I need some time.” Then she pulled away from him, slid across the cab’s back seat, and slammed the door shut.

The cab left the curb, taking Warren’s heart with it. He stared after it, mouth gaping as he processed the events of the last half hour. His girlfriend just left him, essentially, he was a werewolf, and he had a chicken for a dog hiding under his bed upstairs. The females in his life just didn’t want to be around him. Could he blame his girls, though, really?

Shoulders slumped, he turned and headed back toward his apartment building. The beast snarled deep in his chest, and Warren closed his eyes, stopped to concentrate on stilling it. Okay, so intense negative emotions could bring his new furry self to the forefront. He’d have to work on this big time. What could he think about now, focus on, to cease the change?

Try something positive
, he thought.
Something you enjoy
.

Sex popped into his mind, but then he promptly thought of Tamara, and that just defeated the purpose. More hair sprouted on the back of his hands. He felt his teeth elongating. His chest expanded.

Think about sex with a guy!
his brain screamed. Why not? It had been a fantasy since puberty, and one that calmed and cheered him.

So he pictured a hot stud as he walked back to the apartment. A tall, slender male with wide blue eyes bending over for him, offering up his smooth, white ass. Warren pictured sliding his long, thick cock into the man’s tight, pink ass…

Until the shriek coming from the alley across the way startled him out of his reverie.

He looked around. It was early evening and the street traffic, people and cars, was surprisingly low for a Saturday. He was the only person who’d heard the scream, it appeared.

He slowed down and glanced in the alley. At the very back, cloaked in shadows, a struggle ensued. Three men clustered around a fourth, and they were taking him down. As his knees hit pavement, he let out a fierce howl. The tiny hairs on Warren’s neck rose when he did so.

He’s a werewolf
.
He’s trying to change to defend himself
. Warren stepped to the edge of the sidewalk. If any of the other street stragglers had heard the commotion, they were just ignoring it now, preferring a ‘don’t get involved’ approach.

One of the men holding the werewolf down brought his arm high above his head. Something silver glinted in the dying afternoon sun. Then it came down in a glimmering wink and sliced across the kneeling werewolf’s neck. Even at this distance, Warren saw hot blood gush. He felt sick to his stomach, but he fought back the urge to puke.

Then one of the attackers drew back from the fallen werewolf, letting him tumble to the ground. As he did so, he looked around, and that’s when his gaze fell on Warren.

He swallowed hard and froze. The man stepped from the shadows enough to show his features, and his face was imprinted in Warren’s mind. So was the smell. A pungent aroma rose from the alley and drifted to his nostrils. The scent of rotting vegetables.