Taming the Beast

He set his nails against the flesh over his sternum again. Inside, he felt that beastly stir again—the agitated flexing of an impatient, untrusting animal. “Well, surely, you didn’t tell them, did you?”

“Well, yes, that’s the point. They can’t help you if they can’t get close to you, and what difference would it make if they came here versus some random, public place? At least here, we’re in your territory.” She giggled, but he didn’t find anything amusing about the joke.

They were in his territory, and he’d defend his home against all outsiders. He’d protect what was his and who was his, and didn’t care how bloody the fight was. If they got anywhere near—

His hand, pale before, was brown and gnarling. His nails extending and curling under. Fur spreading.

He gripped his transforming wrists and yanked his blurring gaze up to her. “No!”

“No, no, no, stay with me.” She grabbed him by his hair and yanked. “Don’t you dare shapeshift right now. Resist!”

___

“Damn you!” Mary spat, and then ran as quickly as she could to the door Andreas had herded her through. She just needed to get it open. She wasn’t going anywhere—she wouldn’t abandon him—but she needed to let those other wolves in. If she’d ever thought there was a possibility she’d be trying to outrun a territorial werewolf, she wouldn’t have put money on a wager.

“You stay!” she snapped, weaving through the clutter in the basement and eying the door at the side. “I don’t know which part of you is listening to me right now, but I swear, if you don’t behave yourself, I will hogtie you and torture you with every trick in my arsenal the moment you shift back. You like whips? I’ve got one.”

The wolf stopped. Then, he canted his head in a very human way and eased closer.

She scoffed. “Damned Vikings. I bet you’d like that, huh? A little bondage and pain would probably set you off like a rocket. I’ll have to think of something else. What do dogs dislike? Baths?” She climbed atop a crate and then jumped down on the other side.

If she could get around the row of boxes, she only needed to zip past the door and knock the latch up. It was a very simple, but effective, closure.

“Can you hear me, Andreas? Is that you I see in the wolf’s eyes, or are you letting the beast make a fool of you? That doesn’t sound like something a man who’s meant to be my mate would have a problem with. My man would be in control.”

She suspected that she needed to control him, but she didn’t want to tell him that. She wanted to get him angry enough that he forced himself back to his two-legged configuration.

“No man of mine would let a dog lead him around. He’d be the one holding the leash.”

Andreas paused his pursuit again and did that odd canting of his head, though he had one paw still raised to take another step.

She ran.

She darted around the wall of crates, slapped the latch up and pushed the door out. “This way!” she shouted outside, and hoped those wolves were out there, because Andreas’s teeth sank into the fabric of her skirt and tugged her back.

He growled as he pulled her.

She sighed. She’d liked that skirt. “Stop pulling me!” she snapped at him.

He growled again and gave her a hard yank that knocked her onto her bottom. He put his snout in her face, and a rumbling noise sounded from his throat.

As anyone would be when faced down by a predator with a human-sized brain, she was afraid. He could hurt her—really hurt her—if he weren’t in his right mind. If he didn’t understand who she was and what she could be for him, he’d attack. He’d see everything she was doing as a threat, and she was simply trying to get him help so she could love him the way he needed.

“Hold it right there,” came a deep, calm voice from the open door.

Swallowing, Mary didn’t move her body, but she shifted her gaze toward the voice.

There were two men in the doorway, clad in leather and taking up a lot of space.

Wolves?

If they were wolves, then they must have been predators of a different sort. Even from where she stood, she could feel the hot energy pouring off of them. Not quite like Andreas. Animals of another sort.

Andreas’s growl grew louder, but she knew the sound wasn’t directed at her that time. The warning was meant for the newcomers.

One of the men, who wore a patch over his eye and his hair long, took another step into the room, baring fangs that had snapped down fast as switchblades. “You want to see who’s the alpha here?” he said on a growl of his own. “You want to see who’s the biggest dog in the room?”