The Covert Wolf (22 page)

The front door banged behind him as he walked outside, restless and edgy, wolf scratching to the surface. A cool wind caressed his cheeks, ruffled his hair. Wolf smelled the redolent pine, the raw earth and the wildness of forest. Overhead, the silver gleam of the waxing moon filtered through the boughs of tall, thick pines.

Claws erupted on his fingertips. Matt surrendered to the beast.

Up the mountain he ran as wolf, senses exploding with knifelike awareness. He roamed the meadow, bounding off the trail to explore the outcroppings of granite peppering the mountainside. Muscles stretched and flexed with each movement.

He loped through the forest. Leaves and dead undergrowth littered the path, which dipped and curved and led down the mountain. He relished the freedom, the pull of his strong muscles, the sharp awareness of wolf.

After a half mile, the path ended. He ground to a halt, disturbed by an intense tickling in his head. As if someone ran a feather over his muzzle. Matt growled, pawed at the ground and snapped at the air. The tickling bothered his nostrils, dug into his sensitive ears. Hell.

He shifted into human form, clothing himself in soft leather boots, black jeans and a black T-shirt, and the sensations immediately subsided.

Very odd. He must be on the edge of Fae lands. He continued on, finding the path easily, and following it, drawn to it like a lodestone.

Then the path vanished, giving way to thinning trees. Matt looked up at the nearly full moon, large and pregnant in the glittering velvet sky.

Voices rose on the wind, soft and coaxing. Their music enchanted him, wove around him like a cloak. He continued on, hovering on the edges of a large glen.

The clearing was ringed by the forest. In the middle were twelve large granite stones, pointed and phallic, thrusting to the sky.

A dozen people wreathed the stones, their skin luminous and pale. Their ankle-length robes shimmered silver beneath the moon’s caress. Six men and six women were dressed the same. But he saw the men had short hair, and the tips of their ears were pointed. They raised their hands to the sky, chanting lyrical words he could not understand. They pivoted as they chanted, and began to dance, their bodies swaying in sinuous grace. Matt swayed, naturally responding to the music, the sweet melody of the voices. Entranced, he watched the Fae celebrate the approaching full moon.

Suddenly their robes became pale as starlight and vanished. The twelve naked Fae continued to dance, then paired off. Male and female joined together, arms winding around each other, the couples backing up against the stones. The air grew heavy with musk, the erotic scent winding around Matt and holding him immobilized. He could not move, only watch, a helpless prisoner to the sensual play.

One male lifted a female and positioned her against a stone. Moaning, she clung to him as she opened her legs, revealing the glistening pink of her sex. The musk of her arousal floated on the wind. The male smiled with satisfaction, his phallus jutting and strong. He positioned himself against the female’s center and thrust. She flinched, then moaned as he began to piston his hips, pounding hard and fast into her.

His blood ran thick and hot. Matt’s body tightened, his own sexual need pouring through his veins. He closed his eyes, seeing the woman as Sienna, her long, slender limbs spread wide for him, the hot spice of her own arousal perfuming the air. Her eyes would be soft with desire, a flush pinking her cheeks, her mouth swollen and smudged from his hot, possessive kisses.

His erection throbbed with painful intensity as he lifted her by the buttocks, holding her easily against the stone, the symbol of nature’s fertility. Slowly, so slowly, the tip of his arousal prodded the sweet entrance to her body. Then the tight, hot feel of wet silk as he surged forward, feeling her clench tightly around him.

It was heaven, oh, gods, it was intense; he shook with the pleasure of it. It was raw and exciting, the jagged pants of his own breath, her tiny, excited cries…it was…

His eyes snapped open.

The scent had shifted, lined with something foul and dark, like sewer water tainting perfume. Matt’s erection faded.

This was all wrong.

The couples writhed and moaned as they made love, but their moans began to sound like hideous cackles, vacant of the enchanting whispering music they’d created earlier. It was no longer lusty and earthy, but crude and base.

Even the molecules of air shifted, carrying a faintly sinister heaviness. Then he realized what was missing. No night sounds of the forest. Even the crickets were eerily silent.

A cloying metallic scent slammed into him like a freight train. Matt went still.

Blood.

He swept the circle with his gaze, searching for the source. There. In the center of the stones was a pile of furred carcasses. Dead animals. Squirrels, rabbits, beaver. They’d been slaughtered and left like small sacrifices to the stones.

It made no sense. The Fae protected, not killed, the forest animals. Even the rare times when they did kill, it was purely defensive.

This looked sinister, like a blood sacrifice.

Had to do recon while they were distracted. As the Fae couples continued to make love, he slipped among the trees, his feet making no noise.

A crackle of branches. He went still, searching the air. Twenty yards in front of him, something moved in the bushes.

Interesting.

As a SEAL, several missions had involved insertions into enemy territory. He used this training now more than his wolf, trusting in it more than wolf’s abilities to slip through the woods. He made no noise as he followed the odd scent to the base of a tall cliff.

Stunned, he watched the grayish creature fly into a small recess in the cliffs. Suddenly a vivid orange glow came from the recess. A fire?

Matt glanced around, the cold air tightening his muscles. He had no equipment, no resources. And no time, either.

He placed a hand on the rock, feeling it cold and hard beneath his fingertips. He could scale the cliff. Wouldn’t be easy, but he could do it.

And then his blood chilled as he thought of Sienna, alone and vulnerable back in the cabin. Unprotected.

If something sinister were afoot, he had to ensure her safety first. No way in hell could he leave her. He didn’t know their customs or culture that well. But every Draicon instinct warned something was wrong with these Fae.

Torn, he glanced upward, itching to follow. Finally his hand dropped in frustration and he clenched his fists.

Matt turned to find the path to Sienna’s cabin. He trotted through the woods and gained the path. But at the section demarking the Fae territory, he ground to a halt.

And then he stared in shock.

The trees had closed in like a fence, barring the way. Magick.

Heart lodged in his throat, he tried to make his way back, meeting only solid pine trunks, brush lodged between each one, making an effective barricade. Matt kept following the line, trying to find a way past. Brambles scraped through his clothing, cutting his chest and arms. He was forced to turn back.

The Fae’s defense system had detected his presence. His jaw tightened.

No choice. Had to shift.

The change came slow, pain riding his bones. He gritted his teeth, riding through it, realizing Fae magick also prohibited the shift. Finally, success. On four paws, he prowled, muzzle lifted, teeth bared in a snarl.

The trees parted before him like a crowd respectfully making way.

He loped through the woods until finding the dirt path again. Wolf raced through the woods, alert and watchful, as he followed it to the invisible barrier dividing Fae territory from the acres ringing Sienna’s cabin.

Only when he could see the golden glow of lamplight coming from her cabin did he stop and shift back. Matt ran back to the cabin. Even though he’d barely run two miles, he felt as if he’d raced twenty. Wheezing, he bent over, hands braced on his knees. The Fae magick was powerful and clever, suctioning out his energy.

When he caught his breath, he went into the cabin. Sienna sat in a recliner before the blazing fire. A book was in her lap, but she stared instead at the flames.

She glanced up, her eyes widening at the blood on his shirt.

“I got caught in brambles.”

The book fell to the floor. “Fae brambles. I recognize the markings.”

Matt glanced downward in surprise. The scratches on his bare arms had a distinct outline in the shape of a wolf.

Sienna went to him, gently traced one of the marks. “The woods near the border of Fae territory are warded with magick to allow in all animals, and paranorms who appear as animals. They mark you to identify your animal form. The marks will fade, but reappear if you cross the border again.”

Her touch felt soothing as she ran a finger over the reddened scratch.

“Tell me about the standing stones.”

Her hand rested on his skin. She looked surprised. “You got through that far? The warding must be fading.”

“I saw a ceremony.” He watched her expression. “Fae ringing the stones, chanting, as they danced. Then they removed their robes and made love.”

Her eyes widened. “The autumn harvest moon dance. They celebrate the fecundity of the summer for a final time, planting the seeds that will slumber through winter and awaken in the spring.” Her eyes darkened and he caught the sweet scent of her arousal. “Six couples trying to conceive are chosen for this honor. It’s a celebration of conception. It’s said the standing stones aid in fertility.”

Blood surged, hot and thick, through his veins as he thought of his earlier vision of Sienna. Matt frowned.

“Do they sacrifice animals, as well?”

She blinked. “Never.”

“I saw animal carcasses in the center of the stone circle.”

“Oh, that. They were probably animals killed by predators. We put them in the center of the circle as a symbol of the circle of life and death…as the couples make love, to create new life.”

“Interesting tradition,” he murmured.

A delicate flush tinted her cheeks. “The dance is filled with magick, and makes the night come alive. The Fae celebrate the ritual as a sacred tradition.” She gave a little sigh. “I was to participate when I chose a mate, but…no dance for me.”

She looked so wistful, it tugged at his heart. Matt went to the stereo system, flipped through a few CDs. He inserted one. As the lyrical melody filled the cabin, he stood, holding out a hand.

“Dance with me instead, Sienna.”

No refusal brooked in that husky command. Matt’s palm was warm as he pulled her to him. Sienna rested her cheek against his broad shoulder, feeling the heat of his body through his clothing. Beard stubble shadowed his jaw. He looked wild, like a wolf.

Yet this wolf had been only gentle with her. She kept finding more sides to him, the considerate man hiding beneath a protective layer of warrior and wolf. Matt was strong, fiercely loyal, courageous and would fall on his sword before harming her.

Holding her with ease, his steps were sure and light as he guided her around the room. She felt the tensile strength of him.

“Let go, Sienna. There’s nothing to be scared of. Let go of all your inhibitions.” His deep whisper sent a delightful shiver coursing down her spine.

The promise of sex gleamed in his blue eyes. Her body hummed instinctively to the sultry call of his demand.

A small moan escaped her as he kissed the underside of her ear. Sienna clasped his shoulders, her fingers digging into his wide shoulders. She explored the length of his body, dropping a hand between them to the front of his jeans. The rigid length of his arousal met her palm. She stroked, fascinated by this wolf’s desire for her.

A low growl reverberated through his deep chest, but this time, it didn’t scare her. Sienna leaned closer. Fisting a hand through her hair, he crushed his mouth against hers. It was no gentle, teasing kiss, but a wolf staking his possessive claim. His tongue boldly thrust past her lips, tasting her, exploring the wet cavern of her mouth. Moaning, she clutched fistfuls of his shirt as she sagged against him.

He kept at it, exquisite sensual torture, the tension simmering just below the surface. As if his life depended on her, his next breath.

Heat and masculine lust radiated from him. He nipped her bottom lip, then licked it in a lingering caress. She opened her eyes, startled at his hot, intent look.

Sex with Matt meant more than surrendering to his sexual dominance.

It meant forging a physical link between them, tying her physically to this strong, courageous wolf. Making love would be intimate and emotional, digging past all her defenses she’d erected since leaving the colony.

As if he knew, Matt slowed and stopped. He cupped her cheek tenderly.

The look shattered her. He gazed at her as if she were the most precious thing on earth. As if nothing else mattered, not his being a SEAL, nor a wolf. Only her. The sheer tender longing crumbled her resolve. No Fae had ever made her feel like this, had wanted her this badly.

He was a covert wolf, who risked his own life to protect others. All her life, she’d lived a covert life as a Fae, secluding herself from the world. Suddenly she wanted to throw herself headfirst into all he offered in the promise of his soft, seductive smile. Sienna shook with her own longing.

“Make love to me, Matt,” she whispered. “Make me yours tonight. I don’t care about anything else right now.”

They were only a man and a woman, with this burning need between them.

He took her into the bedroom, snapped on a light. Matt tugged the shirt over his head and shed his boots and pants. Breath caught in her throat.

“Um, wow. You were right. Commando,” she managed to say.

He looked up with a grin as he kicked his clothing aside. Dark hair covered his chest, stretching from nipple to nipple. Muscles layered his flat abdomen, his biceps. She glanced down at his genitals. His thick shaft was long and erect.

The thought of taking his hardness into her body filled her with anticipation and slight fear. Curious, eager to explore his body, she went around him, touched the small marking of a running wolf.