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He said nothing more, but sprinted toward the bathroom. She would have joined him if he’d extended the invitation, but her faeness sensed he didn’t want to heat things up until they were in bed together. She also knew that he’d bite her again, a thought that sent shivers of anticipation pouring in hot waves over her body.
With the shower running, she glanced around the small room. She was locked up with a wolf and the idea of it created the familiar tugging sensation deep in the center of her lower abdomen, the same way she’d felt when he’d made love to her earlier.
Something was happening to her that felt very un-fae. She wondered if she was experiencing the early stages of the mysterious mate-bonding of an alpha wolf to his woman.
She took deep breaths, but they came out like a wolf’s growl. She huffed through her nostrils in quick bursts. She began to travel the room, sniffing the chest of drawers. She smelled Fergus’s complex wolf scent, then Sharon’s scent, though much fainter. Farther back were the smells of other alters and humans that no doubt owned the furniture even before Fergus.
On the dresser was a photograph of him with Sharon in what must have been their human lives. They looked young, in love, happy. Behind them were the red cliffs of Sedona, the photo probably taken near their resort. Though Mary had transferred her veterinarian practice to Five Bridges, both Fergus and Sharon had been forced to relinquish an extraordinary life.
She could understand Sharon’s profound disappointment in her alter existence.
She wondered suddenly if Sharon was here. Would she watch them having sex? She didn’t seem like a woman who cared too much about boundaries.
Mary moved to the nightstand and slowly stripped off her double tanks. She folded them and set them on a nearby rocking chair. The wolf in her felt strong, demanding. She wanted different things from Fergus this time. Would he give them to her?
She growled again, the sound vibrating along her throat. She loved the feel of it. She liked the idea of being very physical with the wolf tonight. Savage troubled her and maybe it always would. But the part of her slowly becoming wolf gave her an unexpected thrill. She’d even begun to understand why Alicia had been so drawn to the wolves of Savage.
On the nightstand was an old brass compass and a trio of antique books. Had Sharon brought these here? Probably, because each carried her scent.
A vase of flowers brightened the entire room. She leaned close and breathed in the fragrance. Her nostrils flared as she tipped her head back. She lost track of how many lines of redolence she detected, a dozen, two dozen, a hundred?
The human nose could only smell one; this was a rose, that was a carnation. But her wolf senses caught layers and layers of odors and fragrances. She smelled fields alive with growth, the rich earth, the freshness of the rain, even the way the scents changed as the sun rose and fell.
She felt alive in ways she’d never been before. Her body hummed with her need for Fergus and glancing at her wrists, she saw a thin dusting of light wolf fur.
The queen size bed, with a black wrought iron headboard, was almost pressed up to the far side of the small space. Sleeping with Fergus through the day, as big as he was, would be close and intimate.
A quilt lay on top. Again, she leaned down and smelled all the fingers that had once labored over the antique patchwork made up of small two-inch squares. Dozens of hands through the distance of time. She could hear the women talking about love, life and their children.
Reverently, she began folding the quilt back in careful panels until she could slide it over the wood chest at the end of the bed. Other wolves had lived here. She could smell them, those who had preceded Fergus and Sharon. They were gone now, each and every one, lost in pack wars or dominance fights that had ended tragically many years ago. All this she could detect or maybe it was the fae part of her that sensed the past, she wasn’t sure.
When Fergus rose to serve as alpha, he’d kept the cabin, maybe for unexpected times like this, like losing a dominance battle with a murderous wolf like Sydon.
With her fae senses combined with her wolf abilities, she knew Savage was riddled with dens just like this one, cool, closed off, and dark. Only a single lamp lit the space and the bulb had a low wattage. The wolf in her loved it, loved the solitude, the sense that being here with Fergus was private and belonged only to them.
Across from the foot of the bed was a beautiful wood paneling, like nothing she’d scene. She was pretty sure the wood was called burl. How odd to see it here, but the grain looked as though an ocean wave had washed up on the seashore, leaving foamy patterns in the sand behind.
She decided she loved this room, the simple beauty of it, the warmth, the presence of others who’d come before. No other rooms were in the wolf-den, just a bathroom and a bedroom. The space was for sleeping, love-making, maybe healing after a battle and a lot of nothing-held-back howling.
Fergus could let loose now.
So could she.
Having examined every part of the space, she began stripping out of her shoes and jeans. She removed her bra and her panties and folded everything up, setting her shoes on the floor and her clothes on the tank tops already on the rocker.
Standing naked on the rag-rug carpet, she closed her eyes and
listened intently to Fergus in the shower. She could hear the pleasure he felt as the warm water beat on his body. He wolf-moaned softly, the sound just shy of a howl.
A half-minute more, and the water shut off.
She waited for him, her body tingling in anticipation. She touched the soft fur on her wrists and took deep breaths.
When he finally stepped into the small hall between the stairs and the bathroom, he wore only a towel around his waist.
His chin was low, and he growled as his gaze skated over her body.
But she held up a hand. When she spoke, she sounded hoarse, very wolf, very different from her more human-like fae voice. “This is my time with you, Fergus. It doesn’t belong to you, but to me.”
