Let the Wild Out (2 page)

Still, the panther inside of him was interested. If not a wife,
then a lover while he looked for a bride. After he married, there would be no
more lovers. It was their way.

Feeling his pocket vibrate, Douglas took out his phone. William
had texted him about the picture he’d snapped of the pretty brunette. “Who is
she? She is very beautiful.”

Sighing, Douglas answered, “Not who I thought she was. Just
a pretty woman.”

He closed his phone. A waiter appeared carrying food. “You
going to pay for the lady’s sandwich?”

Douglas glanced to where the woman had disappeared and
smiled. “Can I get that to go? She had to leave suddenly.”

The waiter nodded and disappeared. Douglas took out his
wallet. He smiled. Part of him was very happy at the idea of not having to
share this woman.

England

William deleted the text from Douglas and again brought up
the picture of the brunette woman. When he’d first seen her, his body had
lurched in interest. It was the first positive feeling he’d had since the death
of his adopted father. Douglas’s mother had died giving birth to her only son
and neither of the old chieftains wanted another mate after that. The Duncanis chief
had his male heir in Douglas, so the Cononious chief had adopted the orphaned William
as his own.

In truth, he didn’t know Douglas, at least not beyond his
reputation. Where William was studious, it was said Douglas was reckless. It
might have been due to the fact William shifted into wolf, a form known for its
inherently wild temperament. He had to fight for control against his natural
urges if he was to be a leader.

Douglas was a panther, a refined animal until cornered,
which could partially account for the chief’s lack of control as a man. He
didn’t have to try very hard to fight the beast within. He’d also been born
into royalty and his shifter subjects didn’t watch his every move as closely.
Douglas’s uncontrolled appetites as a man worried William when it came to
choosing their bride. He’d probably pick someone just as untamed. Luckily,
though, William would have final say in whomever Douglas wanted.

Hearing footsteps, he closed his phone and looked towards the
end of the courtyard. The English weather was unseasonably cool, but he found
he didn’t mind it. Outside, the world seemed quiet and still. It was inside the
English manor house that seemed full of chaos and demands.

William always wondered if the fact he wasn’t born into the
life of royalty made it harder for him. Douglas always seemed at ease with his
role. William often felt like an imposter.

“I thought I’d find you out here,” Magda said. The old maid
had been with the family for over two hundred years. She’d been his caretaker
when he was younger, always following him, always whispering duty in his ear
until his thoughts were incessantly filled with what he must do and how he must
act. He knew that look on her face well. She wanted him inside with his guests.

Before she could speak, he preemptively stopped her. “I was
answering a message from Douglas in America and needed the quiet. It was about a
potential bride.”

Her expression instantly changed. She wasn’t excited, not
really, not as he imagined most people were when talking about a wedding, but
she seemed pleased that he was thinking about marriage in general. She nodded,
all censure fading from her features. “When you’re finished, we need to go over
the preparations for tonight. The vampire king will be here at dusk.”

Unable to help himself, he said, “Be sure to hang wreathes
of garlic on the window.”

“Boy,” she warned, even as she tried not to smile. It was no
secret that Magda hated vampires. She thought of them as lower beings, even
lower than humans. The woman was a shifter elitist.

Then, on impulse, he said, “Douglas needs me in America to
look at candidates.”

“Why doesn’t he bring them here?” Magda asked, clearly not
seeing the wisdom. “Or, better yet, find a bride here.”

“We’re trying to be discreet,” William said. “It’s been
agreed between the two of us that we should find a bride from America for there
are too many politics at play here. However, we cannot risk angering the old
European families. So, if I am there to meet with the other chief to oversee
the conditions of our American brothers, no one will question it if we happen
to find our wife amongst the Americans.”

“A heathen bride.” Magda shook her head. “Let me see who he
has in mind for you, boy.”

William opened his phone and brought up the picture of the brunette.
“Here’s one he’s seriously considering.” There was no reason to mention she
wasn’t suitable.

Magda eyed her. “She’s very skinny. What kind is she?”

“I’m not sure. Douglas won’t say over the phone in case
others watch what we’re doing. That is why I must go to Colorado.”

“What about Lisbetha? She’s very pretty and from an old
family. Or, if you prefer someone less meek, how about Faith or her younger
sisters, Hope and Charity? They are all very pretty girls and their father is
well respected.” Magda had offered each girl before. “If you want wild, then
choose Ginger. Dark, take Judith. Blonde, Lisbetha again.”

As if bidden by their names, Lisbetha and Ginger appeared in
the distance. Lisbetha smiled and lifted her fingers to greet him. Ginger
leaned into the other woman, lifting her hand to cover a whisper before
giggling. Without waiting to be summoned into his presence, the young ladies
walked towards him. They batted their lashes and dipped their chins in a
practiced effort to get his attention. Threads of silver filtered through their
eyes. All he had to do was say one word and they would follow him anywhere, let
him do anything. If such a thing wouldn’t complicate his life in the extreme,
he’d have taken either of them to bed to find release.

“My chief,” Lisbetha breathed. Her blonde hair curled around
her face, each lock pristine and purposefully placed. He’d never seen her
shifted, but he was told she was a rare bird called an
Asian-crested ibis,
which
made her incredibly special. Though hardly powerful in the sense of physical
strength, rare animals were prized.

“
Mm
—
my
chief,” Ginger said, the low tone full of invitation. She was bolder than the
others, often running through the forest when she knew he was there, rubbing
her kitten scent on the trees, walking naked in human form, breasts pushed out and
lips pursed. Seeing his attention on her mouth, she licked her bottom lip.

“Ladies,” came his obligatory answer.

“Mistress,” they said in unison to Magda.

Magda paused a few seconds too long, as if waiting for William
to strike up a conversation. When he didn’t, she urged, “Would you two be so
kind as to see to the hall? We need to ensure the servants did not put out the
real silver.”

“Of course,” Lisbetha said, eager to please. Ginger pretended
to pout but let her friend lead her away.

“You could have given them some encouragement,” Magda
scolded.

“Why? To do so would be cruel. They would be better off
setting their sights on another.” William eyed his phone, thinking of the woman
Douglas found. “Douglas would never consent to them.”

“Very well. If there is no stopping you, I will pack our
bags.” Magda turned to leave.

“No. I wish for you to stay here.” William stood and placed
his hand on her arm. He took his phone back from her. “I’ll trust you to keep
me informed of all that happens in my absence. I need someone I can trust to
see to things. You, better than anyone, knows what must be done.”

“Yes, my chief.” She nodded once, a curt, disapproving
gesture, and turned to go.

Rachel ignored the burning in her lungs as she ran through
the woods. The nature trail was long and isolated, just as she liked it. Running
full speed was as close to the freedom of shifting as she could get. Most
people stayed to the well-worn paths, but she preferred to be alone, and there
was no better place than on the land Aunt Elvie left her. She liked to visit
the old house in the woods at least once a month. Along with it, Elvie had left
her enough money to live on. Rachel still worked though, training wait staff
and keeping the accounts at a sports bar and grill. It wasn’t glamorous, but it
was work and gave her the freedom to make her own schedule. Plus, if she was at
work, she didn’t have to go through the depressing chore of cooking for one.

The steady beat of her feet on the ground echoed off the
trees. She listened to the sounds of the forest, able to hear the distant birds
and insects as if they were right beside her. Small animals roamed the surrounding
woods—rabbit thirty paces to the north, squirrel running up a tree fifty paces
to the northeast. Narrowing her eyes, she looked ahead, focusing on the
distance. She knew if any looked at her, her normally green gaze would be
filled with liquid silver. The power of the shift was seductive and strong. It
was only with years of control that she managed to keep those things within her
at bay. But here, in the forest during her secret runs, she was free.

She detected a new smell in the forest and slowed her pace
by a fraction. That’s when she noticed another set of footsteps. Whoever it was
had been keeping a perfect rhythm with her to hide an approach. A few seconds
later, the other person’s step slowed to match hers. It was too late. She’d
heard it. She was being followed.

The home she’d inherited was ten miles away. She could tell
by the smell of overgrown marijuana fields on the wind. Luckily for Rachel, she
knew this land. Excitement pumped in her veins. Let the other runner chase her.
He’d never be able to catch up to her speed. She quickened her pace, moving as
fast as she possibly could on two legs. Her heart pounded. The rhythm behind
her doubled. Whoever it was ran faster. Excitement turned to concern. The
person gained on her position.

Her heart felt as if it might explode and her skin tingled.
She could feel her body urging her to shift. Rachel tried to fight it, but the
compulsion was too strong. She ripped out of her T-shirt, throwing it aside.
Her bone snapped and she almost cried out in pain. Her body flew forward, palms
hitting the ground. Unable to stop now if she wanted to, she raced on all
fours. Her clothing fell behind her, forgotten on the path. Paws replaced hands
and feet. Fur of the wolf replaced flesh. The last to change was her face, her
nose and mouth elongating with awful snaps of her delicate bones. No matter how
many times she’d lived through it, the pain was unimaginable yet thankfully
brief.

Her motions became a stream of instinct. She turned from the
path, running into the dense forest. Raw, natural urges filled her—the urge to
run, the urge to feed, the urge for sex and sleep and shelter and survival. But
more potent than any of those things was the need for freedom.

She leapt over a log. Whatever was behind her followed her deeper
into the trees. The creature was fast, gaining on her with each second. She
felt more than saw her pursuer jump out from behind a pine. Paws brushed over
her back, barely missing her.

She didn’t have a choice. Rachel turned to fight, snarling
to frighten off whoever charged her. A large, grey, male wolf faced her.
Another wolf shifter? Here? In her forest? She edged away from him, her feet
stamping on the ground. He didn’t advance, but instead studied her as if
curious. She sniffed the air, not recognizing his scent.

Neither of them moved towards the other. Their sides rose and
fell, matching in rhythm. She studied his blue eyes flecked with silver. They
made her nervous. His body quivered and he began to shift. What was he doing?
She glanced around the forest, about ready to run. Fur grew into flesh. Muscles
stretched. Before she could react, a naked man crouched before her. Her
breathing deepened.

The blue eyes looked the same, penetrating and a little
dangerous. Shadows fell across his blond hair and strong face. Broad shoulders,
thick arms, big chest, tapered waist… She shivered.

Rachel had never been so glad to be in shifted form in her
life. Her brain could comprehend what she was seeing, but her body didn’t
react. He kept his fingertips pressed into the leaf-covered floor. As if expecting
her to transform for him, he nodded at her.

She couldn’t shift, not now. She’d be naked. He’d be naked.
They’d be naked together. She didn’t know who he was, what he wanted, why he
chased her. And, unless she shifted, she couldn’t ask him.

He leaned forward, pressing a knee into the ground so he
could reach out to touch her. “Who are you?”

The sound of his deep voice prodded her into action. She
took off running and didn’t stop until she reached her aunt’s house. Shifting
on the back porch, she grabbed the hidden key and locked herself inside.

William grinned as he watched the female wolf shifter run
away. The predator in him wanted to chase her down, but he’d already done that
and she’d refused to reveal herself. Okay, so in truth, he wanted to do much
more than chase her down. Jogging through the dense forest, he found his
cellular phone clipped to his cotton shorts. He flipped it open and dialed.
“Hey, Douglas, it’s me. I’ve got a strong prospect. How soon can you get to the
forest sanctuary? We have some hunting to do.”