N. Walters - Finding Chrissten

Every muscle in her body tensed. She willed her body to change. Commanded it to change.

She gritted her teeth, refusing to admit defeat. She could do this. The wolf was part of her. All she had to do was reach for it. Accept it.

Her limbs began to morph. Bones cracked and reformed. Some grew while others shortened. Fur replaced smooth skin. Chrissten gave a faint cry as she fell forward, catching herself not with her hands but with her front paws. Her vision changed, becoming sharper.

She’d done it. She’d really done it.

Sheer joy filled her. She wanted to howl. She wanted to run as fast as her four legs could carry her. Alive. She felt totally alive for the first time in months.

The doorknob rattled and she whirled around, teeth bared. The door pushed inward and Hank stepped inside. His nostrils flared and his pupils dilated. He shoved the heavy panel closed, shutting them inside the bedroom.

Chrissten’s heart began to pound. What would he think of her?

She shook herself. Who cared what he thought of her. It didn’t matter. She could reach for her wolf, embrace it and use the strength that was part of her birthright.

“I knew you’d look like this.” Hank took a step toward her, stopping when she backed into the corner.

He held his hands out in front of him. “It’s okay.” He shook his head, his expression slightly dazed. “My God, you’re gorgeous.”

The look in his eyes, the sincerity of his words, had her raising her head, her muzzle going haughtily in the air. She couldn’t deny how good his easy acceptance and praise felt. No one had ever seen her wolf. She refused to count Brian or Doctor Morton. Their opinions didn’t matter.

Yet, they had affected her. Brian had always denigrated her, telling her she was weak, reminding her that real wolves didn’t have blue eyes or blonde fur. Which was just stupid when she thought about it. Eye and fur color had to vary within the wolf community just as it did in the human one. There had to be pureblood wolves out there with blue eyes, maybe even gray or green. But there was no reasoning with a wolf like Brian.

Hank took another step toward her, his hand held out in front of him. “May I?”

It was obvious he wanted to touch her, and she wanted to feel his hands stroke through her fur. Her wolf preened and pranced forward before Chrissten had fully made up her mind what she wanted to do.

He crouched in front of her and extended his hand slowly. “Your fur is so fucking beautiful. The colors…” He shook his head as if he couldn’t find the right words.

Chrissten shivered when his fingers brushed the top of her head and stroked over her left flank.

“Is this the first time you’ve shifted?” She knew he meant since her liberation from captivity and nodded.

Hank continued to rub up and down her side. His touch calmed her racing heart and settled her nerves. She’d truly done it. She was on the way to a full recovery. Brian and the doctor hadn’t stolen this from her.

When his hand brushed against her muzzle, she licked it. His skin was salty. He smelled musky and male with a tinge of soap and coffee. His voice was deep and rough when he spoke. “Would you like to see my wolf?”

Excitement filled her. Yes, she wanted to see his wolf. She’d seen her brother, and of course, Brian, but never any other wolf. She gave a light yip.

Hank smiled. It changed his features, moving him from ruggedly handsome into a walking damp-panties fantasy. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He stood and quickly kicked off his shoes. His gaze never left hers as he stripped off his shirt, jeans and socks, piling it all neatly on the end of the bed. She’d noticed that about him. He was always tidy. His apartment was simple and everything was always in its place. She suspected it was a holdover from his army days. Or perhaps it was simply part of his personality.

He was left standing only in his underwear, a pair of sexy blue boxer briefs. If the man were on a billboard he’d sell millions of pairs of underwear. If men didn’t buy them their girlfriends and wives certainly would, if only in the faint hope the underwear would make their own men look this good.

His shoulders were impossibly wide. His broad chest tapered down to a trim waist. His thighs were heavily muscled. Her tongue hung out of her mouth as she panted.

Hank grinned and stripped off his briefs, tossing them on top of the pile of clothing. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he began to shift. She’d seen Quinn change into his wolf several times, but this was totally different. Anticipation thrummed through her. She couldn’t wait to see him.

Muscles rippled. His jaw cracked and elongated. He fell forward onto his hands and knees. Limbs reformed into strong back and forelegs, ending in gigantic paws. Pale blue eyes stared back at her. He was huge. Much bigger than she was.

But it was his fur that captured her attention. It was various shades of brown mixed with patches of blond. His fur was like hers. Yes, he had more brown than she did. But the blond was there.

Half-breed. They were both half-breeds. It was their human halves that allowed them to be different. Their eyes weren’t brown or black, but blue. Their fur was more than simply black or brown or gray.

He was magnificent.

He didn’t move but she could practically feel him urging her toward him. She crept forward, keeping her eyes pinned on him. Even though she knew he wouldn’t hurt her it still wasn’t an easy thing to do. Brian had attacked her several times when he was in his wolf form. His sharp claws had raked her sides. His razor teeth had torn her skin.

She flinched and whimpered.

Hank lowered his head and then his large body to the ground, making himself vulnerable to her.

In that moment, she fell a bit more in love with him. It wasn’t fair. She was tied to a man she loathed with every breath in her body, unable to fully explore her attraction to Hank.

He gave a chuff of encouragement. Chrissten felt like a coward simply standing there staring at him. She inched forward and carefully lowered her muzzle until it touched his. His long, pink tongue came out to swipe at her. She jerked back. He gave a low whine, almost an apology.

Chrissten moved forward again. She stretched out onto the floor and pulled herself forward until their noses were touching. Hanks gaze snagged hers. She stared into his beautiful eyes, seeing herself reflected there.

What she saw stunned her—acceptance, arousal and something else, something that made her heart quiver. She saw genuine caring, possibly even the stirrings of love.

It couldn’t be. They barely knew one another.

Hank lay motionless, his belly flat against the hardwood floor. He didn’t want to do anything that might spook Chrissten. She was already nervous enough as it was. One false move might send her into retreat.

When he’d walked in the room and found her not in bed, but in her wolf form, it had taken all his strength not to fall to his knees in front of her. He’d never seen anything as breathtaking as Chrissten with her colorful pelt and soulful blue eyes.

Mine .

The word beat at his brain like a hammer on an anvil, driving it deeper with each passing second. The urge to touch her, to claim her, had been overwhelming. He’d had to force himself not to do anything stupid. Patience was the key with this wounded warrior.

He’d seen the expression in her eyes. There had been pride and fear and longing. The pride made his chest puff out, the fear had almost broken his heart, while the longing had scorched his soul.

The feel of her fur sliding in and around his fingers as he stroked her was one of the most erotic sensations he’d ever experienced. He was totally aroused. Not that she’d noticed. Or at least he hoped she hadn’t. He didn’t want her to feel overwhelmed or threatened in any way.