Cicely’s mouth is formed into the letter O. Her eyes are dancing with happiness. She’s delighted for me.
My mate’s eyes are still on me. She’s taking me in. With lust in her eyes.
Fuck, she smells incredible. I’m salivating.
I move purposefully in her direction, seeing the flash of Cicely’s smile before she twirls and goes back inside.
“Amelia,” I say, taking her into my arms, my left hand wrapping around her waist, right palm cupping her jaw. I move in to kiss her. She feels right in my arms. Very fucking right.
I haven’t ever felt anxious for this stage of my life, but now that this moment is here, the moment where I’ll first taste her? I know it’s worth everything I’ve gone through to get here.
Her thick, dark lashes lower, her bubblegum pink lips part, and I move in until our lips connect.
The sweetest taste I’ve had in my life surges through me. Happiness like I’ve never felt floods me.
Her hair is silk. Her lips are heaven. Her full tits are pressed into my chest and it’s time to take her home, rip these clothes off her, and sink inside her while my teeth puncture and mark her. My fingers move to the spot where I’ll do that. I feel her pulse. She whimpers into my mouth, melting into me as our tongues touch and as it occurs to me that this is the sweetest sound my ears have ever heard, she abruptly pulls back, shoves me and I hear a hiss as a thick stream of wet coats my face.
Immediately, my vision blurs and the burn hits. My skin. My nose. My lips.
I roar out my reaction and do the only thing I can do to take the excruciating pain away. I shift to wolf and back in three quick rotations.
When I’m man again after the third shift, the pain has dissipated. Not completely, but significantly. Fuck, that smarts.
She’s on the ground on her ass, looking up at me with absolute horror. The can is still in her hand, pointed at me.
I lean over, grab it from her, toss it, then scoop her up over my shoulder and storm toward my truck.
She’s kicking, fighting, slapping, and screaming the whole way.
“Cicely!” I shout over my shoulder.
By her expression and how fast she’s poked her head out, I know she’s watched the entire thing from behind the glass.
“Have her stuff brought to my house. Leave it on the porch and spread the word – nobody disturbs us.”
She smiles wide and gives me a salute. “Congratulations, honey.”
“What the fuck?” Amelia shouts. “Let me down. Put me fucking down!”
I open the passenger door of the truck and set her inside.
She lunges forward, hands like claws and aiming for my face, my face that’s still burning.
So… this stuff is real. Really real. It’s not that I doubted it when I read Aunt Nelle’s letter, but I guess I didn’t fully comprehend it either. Right now I’m doing my best to get my brain caught up with all I’m seeing and feeling.
And now it feels like I’ve seen it all. I’ve seen a man, the most potently male man my eyes have ever touched – storm up to me heaving breaths out like he’s run a marathon, a look in his eyes like he wants to rip my clothes off and ravish me, and then he actually does. The ravishing part.
The stranger, the gorgeous dark-eyed stranger grabs me, utters my name, pulls me tight against his rock-hard muscled body and lays a kiss on me that makes me go temporarily insane.
I kiss him back for a good two hours (probably not, but that’s what it feels like) before sanity returns and I mace his face.
He roars out what very much sounds like a wild animal growl before he turns into a wild animal.
An actual wild animal.
I know I’ve been lamenting on the fact that there are supernatural things happening since I read that letter, but now that I’ve seen it – actually seen a shapeshifter with my own eyes?
One second he’s reaching for his fly, which was alarming enough, but then he kicked his shoes off and a wild animal burst from his body.
Just… burst. A massive pure white wolf exploded from the guy.
It knocked me on my ass. Literally.
I fell onto my rump on the pavement and stared in shock, sure my eyes were playing tricks on me.
The wolf standing there was absolutely stunning. A massive beast with a thick, fluffy coat as white as a blizzard and as he came into focus, dark and glittery eyes. The t-shirt he was wearing fell off his body in tatters and the rest of what he had on pooled at his back legs.
And suddenly the air smelled different – a mixture of all sorts of delicious holiday scents. Similar to what I smelled in Ivy’s apartment. But better. Stronger. Trees. Fresh snow. Sugar cookies.