The Werewolf Meets His Match (Nocturne Falls Book 2) (11 page)

BOOK: The Werewolf Meets His Match (Nocturne Falls Book 2)
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But what else could she do? Clemens had given her no other choice.

The woods behind Hank’s house were thick with trees, their branches dressed with the rich green leaves of early summer. Insects buzzed and an owl hooted in the distance, their voices carrying easily on the warm evening air. Ivy clenched and unclenched her hands, practically vibrating with the need to run.

Hank stood at her side. “You ready?”

“You have no idea. Anything I need to know? Territory wise? Or whatever?”

“I’m the alpha’s son. I can pretty much run where I want.”

A remote howl disturbed the calm, punctuating her thoughts. She put them into words. “We’re three nights from the full moon and clearly, this community is full of shifters. No matter who you are, we’re bound to cross another were’s path.”

“True. But that’s okay. The shifters in Nocturne Falls aren’t hard-liners. Keep a respectful distance and you’ll be fine. Plus, you’re with me.”

“I’ll stick close.” Not so close his pheromones overwhelmed her and made her offer herself up like a tasty snack, but within reason.

“Then let’s go.” He leaped forward, his clothes becoming his fur as he shifted mid-air and landed several feet away as an enormous silver and gray wolf. He turned back to look at her. Even his markings were handsome. How was this guy not taken?

A thought for another time. She leaped like he had, giving herself over to the night. The change swept through her the moment she was airborne. She landed on all fours, the joy of being in her animal form intoxicating.

Caught up in the moment, she ran toward Hank and stuck her muzzle in his neck. She pulled away a second later, pawing at the ground like she hadn’t just done that.

His lips curled in a wolfy grin and he lifted a paw, then trotted deeper into the forest. She joined him, staying a few paces back and to his right flank. Their communication was limited to body language and some vocalizations, but that’s how most weres communicated anyway.
If
they bonded at some point, they might be able to share thoughts. It happened only to those with strong bloodlines and a true connection.

She didn’t hold out hope for that. Not in an arranged marriage. But that didn’t matter now. All that mattered was the ground beneath her feet, the wind in her fur and the loamy scent of the world surrounding her. The freedom of the moment. The exhilaration of the run.

Hank glanced back, saw she was at his flank and woofed.

She woofed back, ready to run.

He dipped his head and took off, his massive paws digging into the soft earth and flinging clumps of mossy dirt. She sped up to match him, pacing him as they tore through the woods. Here and there, more howls filled the night. Other shifters reveling in the release of the wildness that had been building with the waxing of the moon.

How long they ran she wasn’t sure, but it was good and long and when they finally slowed, they were near a waterfall. They panted with the exercise and the thrill of the run. Her blood thrummed with the joy of it. Hank bent to drink and she joined him, staying a few feet downstream, even though the embarrassing urge to nuzzle him again was almost stronger than the urge not to.

An unfamiliar scent brought her head up from the water. Two large, black wolves stood deep in the trees on the other side of the bubbling stream that tapered off the waterfall. They made no move to come down and drink. She studied them, trying to see them better, but they were almost hidden by the undergrowth.

And they were staring at her.

She stared back, her hackles lifting out of instinct. She remembered what Hank had said about the shifters here not being hard-liners and forced herself to relax. The wolves made no moves, just watched. Were they waiting for her and Hank to be done drinking?

The wind shifted and Hank’s head came up. She looked at him, then toward the two wolves, but they were gone.

Had she imagined them? No. Their scents had been real. Maybe they’d disappeared so quickly because they’d recognized Hank. She stared into the woods, trying to find them again, but all she saw were trees painted silver with moonlight.

Teeth nipped her left flank. She yipped and jumped away. Hank stood there, jaw open, tongue lolling out, laughing wolf-style.

She rammed her head into his shoulder and danced away, woofing. He followed after her. She took off, weaving through trees, leaping fallen logs, barreling through thickets of shrubs. He caught her quickly, and she realized that her ability to pace him earlier had only been because he’d allowed it.

He tackled her, knocking her to the ground and standing over her. He nuzzled her neck the way she’d done to him earlier, nipping playfully and snorting in clear amusement. In human form, Hank wasn’t nearly this playful. Maybe he felt freer as his wolf. Whatever, she liked this side of him.

A lot.

Her nose was full of his scent, and her body came alive with the need to act on those pheromones. Instead, she put her paws on his chest and shoved him off, scampering away with a challenging bark. He came after her, catching her immediately and taking her to the ground again.

This time he touched his nose to hers and whined softly.

He was courting her, wolf-style.

And it was working.

If they’d been in human form, she would have jumped him. As it was, she was barely holding on to decent behavior. She got to her feet and shook her head. He bowed on his front legs and shook his head, too, flicking his ears back.

He understood.

He took off in a gentle trot, then stopped and looked back at her. She joined him, and he started up again.

They stayed side by side until they returned to his house, then he shook himself back into his human form.

She did the same, the excitement of the run electric in her blood. Like all shifters, their clothes and pelts exchanged places when they shifted unless they’d started out in nothing but skin. When she was alone in familiar woods that was her first option. But being naked with Hank? That wasn’t a bridge she was ready to cross. Not when she’d started this run. Now, with the night air draping her like silk, being naked with Hank seemed like a grand idea.

She tipped her head back and inhaled deeply, trying to rid herself of the throbbing need pushing her closer and closer to action. Action that would take her down a path there would be no returning from. She sighed. “That was a great run.”

He grunted affirmatively.

She glanced at him.

From the smoldering gold in his eyes, he needed something more.

Her.

Hank only barely kept himself from lunging at her. “Go inside.”

“Aren’t you coming with me?”

“Not yet.” He shouldn’t have played with her like that. Being so close to her in wolf form had only aroused an unquenchable need. He’d known that was a risk and yet, he’d done it anyway. Running with her, going wolf with her, had made denying that side of himself impossible. She was too large a temptation. And he’d given in. He just hadn’t bargained on how strong his desire for her would be. “I need to run.”

She shook her head, the slightest hint of gold dancing in her eyes. “We just ran.”

“It wasn’t enough.” Actually, it had been too much. Too much inhaling her scent and sharing her space combined with the pull of the moon and the power of the night. He ached with wanting her. Ached to claim her as his mate, right then and there.

But that was too much, too soon. He didn’t make rash decisions. About anything. There was a right way and a wrong way to do things, and he always chose the right way.

That was what any good alpha would do.

Her eyes flashed gold, and she took a step toward him, hips swaying with the kind of deliberate movement that told him she understood exactly what he was feeling. “And if you don’t run?”

He swallowed, fists tight at his sides. “I won’t sleep.”

She swayed closer. “Maybe I won’t sleep either.”

He did the impossible and backed up. No matter what he was feeling, this decision was hers to make. “I want you, Ivy.” Understatement of the year. “I think you can tell. But it’s too soon. I think you know that, too.”

She took another step toward him, head lowering as she took a breath. “What I know is the moon is making me crazy.” Her eyes went full gold, and she massaged the back of her neck. “I feel like I’m in heat around you. Which isn’t a bad thing, considering we’re about to be married.”

He stopped retreating, mesmerized by the play of moonlight on the curves of her body. Someday, when they were married, they were going to do the run the right way. Clothes-free. The thought caused his fists to press hard against his thighs. Breathing normally became a concentrated effort. Standing there without making a move became a timed event. Another minute and his reserve would be gone. She deserved to know that. “My control is almost shot.”

She came closer still. “Control is overrated.”

The muscles in his jaw twitched. Desire owned him. Somehow, he made rational words come out of his mouth. “We should get to know each other better.”

An inch, maybe two separated them. She didn’t touch him, maybe because she knew that if she did, that would be the end of this conversation. She tipped her head back and stared into his eyes. “What better way to get to know each other could there be than giving in to the moon’s pull?”

His body tightened, every fiber taut with need. His voice came out a gruff scrape. “Are you saying yes?”

She nodded. Her lids were heavy with desire as her lips parted. “Take me to bed, Hank.”

He was very good at following orders.

She’d lost her head to the full moon fever. Hard. Ivy stood at the living room windows, her gaze lost in the tangle of trees at the edge of Hank’s property line. Dawn was still minutes away, but she’d been unable to sleep.

She plucked at the hem of his borrowed t-shirt with her free hand, her other wrapped around a cup of coffee that wasn’t doing enough to perk her up. His scent surrounded her, not just on the t-shirt but on her skin. Every inhalation reminded her of the man she’d come here to marry. And deceive.

Steam curled up from her coffee cup. Her sigh pushed it away.

She hadn’t wanted to sleep with him—well, she
had
, but not like this. Not while she was still holding back the truth about Charlie. It felt wrong to give herself to Hank that way when she wasn’t being honest with him.

Couldn’t
be honest with him.

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