Dark Wolf (Claimed by Wolves 3)

Oof. How are you my mate? Dare jokes, his chuckle filling my head. I grin at him and nudge him back, nipping at his ear.

Make or break question. Archer speaks up, posing the question to all of us at large. Musical theater?

There’s a chorus of groans in my head, and I let out a little yip. It’s the closest thing to a laugh I can manage in this form.

I can tell they’re discussing anything and everything to keep my mind off what lies ahead, and I appreciate it. Finding out new things about them makes me feel like I’m getting to know them better, little by little. Plus, it reminds me of our time back at the mating cabin, when we were all happy together, before everything fell apart and I turned into something unexpected and dangerous.

I wish I could have more time like that with them. Just the five of us with no worries. Time to cuddle on the couch, to play poker again, to discover each other’s likes and dislikes. I already know I love these men, but every new piece of themselves they share with me only deepens my feelings for them.

I’ll get that back, I vow, putting on a fresh burst of speed with the force of my conviction. We’ll get back to those easy days of happiness. I’m going to fix this. Fix me.

Near dusk, we come across an unusual scent of musk that Ridge tells me is a female bear on the move with her cubs. We shift direction to give her a wide berth, since tangling with a mama bear could be a death sentence even with so many of us together—especially with me being so unpracticed at hunting or fighting in this form. When her scent is gone from the wind, we circle back around toward the north.

The sun is beginning to set when we leave thick woods behind for a huge plain that stretches for miles ahead. I’ve never seen land so flat here in the middle of mountainous territory. Up ahead, the northern

mountain range is turning darker on the horizon and gaining more distinct definition. We’re close—so close that I can see the silver ribbon of the Two-Tone River cutting through the plain ahead.

Somewhere in that range is Wolfsbane Mountain, and beyond that, the witch.

Let’s pack it in for the night, Ridge says, his pace slowing. This is as good a place as any to rest. Good visibility. Nobody can sneak up on us here.

We’ll sleep in wolf form since we don’t have tents or sleeping bags or anything. But we work together to gather kindling for a fire, and then Archer and I get it nice and hot while Dare, Ridge, and Trystan find us something fresh to eat. Before the sun is fully gone over the horizon, we have several rabbits turning on crudely made spits and two cans of beans sitting directly in the burning flames to warm.

The guys keep their running banter up as we eat dinner, but I only half pay attention. The food is surprisingly delicious, and I eat like I’ve been starving. But I can’t stop thinking about how desperate I am to find peace with my mates.

Every moment of our relationship has been fraught with threats and worries and mortal peril, and I just want us to find some kind of tranquility. I want to listen to them chat and laugh without knowing they’re partly just doing it to try to keep up morale. I want them to laugh because life is good.

I’m still ruminating over the perilous circumstances we’ve found ourselves in when Archer sits down on the soft grass beside me. The other men are all nearby, the low rumble of their voices providing a comforting backdrop. We’re about ready to settle down for the night and have already shed our clothes in expectation of shifting to sleep. I have to hide a pleased blush as I notice Archer’s gaze drop to my bare chest, heat passing over his features.

He drags his focus back up to my face, concern replacing some of the desire as he reaches out to run two knuckles down the side of my cheek.

“What’s got you so quiet tonight?” he asks. “Talk to me.”

The soft pressure of his skin against mine is like a balm over an aching wound. Immediately, my muscles relax a little, my head turning unconsciously to chase his touch. I shouldn’t be surprised he noticed I was acting a little withdrawn. Archer reads me so well it almost feels like he can see directly into my mind sometimes.

But as I look up to meet his eyes, I realize I don’t want to talk about anything at all right now.

I’d rather show him what I’m feeling instead.

Locking my gaze with his, I get to my knees and crawl into his lap, sliding my hands over his chest as I straddle him. Then I wrap my arms around his neck, lean in, and capture his lips with mine.

12

Sable

I don’t know if Archer is surprised by my kiss, but he certainly doesn’t seem to have any objections.

His arms wrap around me, pulling me closer as his lips move over mine. His tongue darts out to taste my lips as a soft noise spills from me. The air is growing cool as the fire starts to dwindle, but Archer’s bare skin is warm against mine.

I’m starting to like the fact that we have to strip before shifting. It allows moments like this to happen easily.

Our kiss starts out deep and slow. Archer’s hands move up and down my back as his tongue strokes gently against mine, as if he’s trying to comfort and reassure me through his touch. But it doesn’t take long for the pressure of our lips to become more urgent, our hands groping each other shamelessly.

As I slide my fingers through his blond hair, scraping my nails over his scalp, I realize that the voices of my other mates have died out. The world around us has gone quiet except for the soft sound of insects humming in the distance.

Archer seems to realize the same thing I have. He breaks our kiss, then presses his lips to the tip of my nose before glancing over my shoulder. As he does, a small grin spreads across his face.

“Look,” he whispers. “Look what you do to them.”