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I let her get ahead of me; I want my prey nervous and slick. Swollen and wanting.
Isabella’s heading east, but that doesn’t mean she’ll stay on that track. Yet I follow her anyway, my pace calm while the wolf comes forth in a half-shift, my clawed feet digging into the ground below. I’m scenting the surroundings, tracking each leaf and tree she’s touched in her haste to flee.
No hurry. Just languid steps deeper into the woods while little red runs from her wolf.
Up ahead, I find footprints on the ground and smirk, licking my fangs. The witch is clever, I’ll give her that—and the confusion tactics get points for creativity.
In a circle, she’s ran around a grouping of sequoias that I recognize from our dream. Same one where I kissed and touched—but the indent near a grouping of leaves shows a different direction. Isabella’s heading north now and toward open land where she knows danger could lurk.
She’s taunting me. Testing to see if I’ll protect what’s mine.
“Bad girl.” Dropping to all fours, I give full control to my animal. My paws pound the ground, diminishing in minutes the distance between us, while my snout remains high. Her scent is potent, stronger the closer I get—as if she’s wet or bleeding—and both options without me are unforgivable.
However, the closer to the border I get, it disappears. Completely gone, but I hear her giggle in the breeze.
My head snaps toward the sound, and I find her blowing me a kiss. My head lowers, lip curling over my teeth, and she runs again. This time the chase is close; I’m on her heels before my witch gets past the last marker she left me.
Nipping. Corralling.
I push her past her limit, enjoying the playful screams she emits when I get too close. How she tries to dodge me, turning fast and using the trees to propel her body in the opposite direction, but nothing could keep me from her.
However, her whine when my wolf tackles her and flips us mid-fall will forever be etched into my mind. This one is different. It’s not for the man, but a calling to the wolf—a plea to be marked.
I growl at my mate, nipping her shoulder while taking the brunt of the crash with my body. Always protecting her. She lays panting over our fur, smile wide and cheeks flushed while we inhale her lovely jasmine scent.
Ours.
The singular thought expresses how we feel. The peace and hope she brings.
Slowly, I transform beneath her. Letting her experience the shift with me.
Each crack and change until my arms wrap around her. Her heart is beating fast, body shivering, and it’s the excitement coursing through her veins that adds to the heady scent.
I could mount her now.
Fill her to the brim with my seed and keep us locked together for hours so they take hold. Claim my queen on the forest floor as the prize she is, but I know where it will mean more.
To her. To me.
Standing with her still in my hold, I carry my witch back the way we came. She doesn’t question what I’m doing, why I’ve yet to bite her, but understanding dawns once we cross the trees leading to our lake. In the late evening sky, the last rays from the sun dances across the still waters, and I walk us to the center with care.
Isabella’s eyes shine for me, the blue near glowing as mine do for her. Both her mates are here, needing her acceptance and the privilege to love her.
Placing her on her feet, I cup water with my hands and wash away the sweat and light dusting of dirt that clings to her limbs. I wet her hair and push back the fiery locks, keeping her face and neck clear for my eyes to feast on. There isn’t an inch of her I don’t caress or touch, massage until she’s pliant in my arms.
She’s also needy. Her whimpers and moans make me feel a hundred feet tall, but it’s her low please that makes me snap. I hoist her up and wrap her thighs around my waist, for a second caressing the tattoo on her thigh before lining up with her slick center.
Her pussy sits above my cock; she’s soaked, and it has nothing to do with the water. It slides down my length, coating me in her sweetness. I slide between her folds once, twice…three times and on each, her clit kisses the slit at the end of my girth.
It causes her to shiver and try to gyrate, pull me inside, but I hold still. Need her to hear me.
“I love you, Isabella Moore. I’m forever grateful to the goddess above for the gift of my mate and luna. You are my perfection.” Then I’m inside her warmth in one fluid thrust, sinking in deep without pause. Not until my swollen knot presses against her labia, and then I fuck her with short, fast strokes.
Each punch of my hips is harder than the last, and she clenches around me, fingernails digging into my shoulders while I keep a rough pace. The skin breaks there, and the slight sting causes my fangs to drop once again. To itch with the need to be buried in her neck—to mark what’s ours—as I bounce her up and down my thick shaft.
And Isabella doesn’t miss a single pump, meeting me thrust for thrust. The faster I guide her, forcing her hips to slam down, the louder she moans for me. She’s thrashing in my hold—whimpering—as the knot slips inside a little more with each upward drive.
Then, there’s the way her eyes grow dark at the sight of my elongated teeth.
