“What’s your name?”
She paused on her downward climb to twist her head and peer at him. “Shannon.”
He didn’t comment, or blame her for not sharing her last name. Neither had he. If she reported the attack to the police, he didn’t want them to have too much information. The last thing he needed would be bullshit questions from some overworked cop who wouldn’t see the humor in checking out a woman’s crazy tale of a werewolf attack. He pulled away from his musings to watch her climb lower.
Anger returned when he saw blood smeared on her bare feet and he stopped breathing through his nose. The scent of her blood so soon after he’d shifted could affect him. The last thing the woman needed would be to see his eyes darken or hear his voice thicken into growls.
He pulled air in through his mouth and hoped the scent wouldn’t be strong enough to taste. The cologne he always splashed on before pack meetings would help mask it. He’d made a habit of wearing the stuff to keep some details of his personal life private. Wolves could smell way too much but artificial fragrances could confuse their noses.
He moved under her, ready to assist as she climbed down the tree.
“That’s it,” he encouraged. “Don’t fall, Shannon. I’m going to reach up and help you down, okay? Don’t be alarmed because I’m not wearing clothes. I swear I won’t hurt you.”
She paused again to shoot him a frightened look. He could make out more of her features, and his gut tightened. She had big, beautiful blue eyes framed with dark eyelashes, and they were shaped in a way that stole his breath away. Not even the purplish bruise could distract from her attractiveness. He hesitated and then lifted his arms to assist her to the ground.
“It’s okay, Shannon.” He kept his tone soft, attempting to lure her closer to safety. “I keep my word. No one is going to hurt you.”
Anton could tell she wasn’t certain if he could be trusted but she still lowered down the last eight feet that separated them until he gently gripped her waist. His hands wrapped around soft hips and he tried not to notice her full, rounded ass displayed in the pair of thin cotton capri pants too close to his face. He really didn’t want to become aroused. She’d scream if he allowed his body to show his sexual interest.
He lifted her easily, placing her carefully on the ground. She turned, faced him, and kept her gaze fused with his. She didn’t glance down at his body but instead gave him a fearful look that made him wonder if she’d attempt to climb the tree again. Her back pressed tightly against the bark. He could see her terror as clearly as the cute, tiny freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose. Her much shorter height—a few inches above five feet—made him question her age. She looked mature, late twenties maybe, but then again, teens seemed to appear much older than their years, in his opinion.
“See? I’m not going to hurt you.” He tried to sound harmless, the irony of that not lost on him since he had to be the most dangerous thing within miles of the small female. “I’m the good guy,” he lied. No one would ever call Anton Harris that title without it being the punch line of a sarcastic joke. He had become one of the most feared members of his pack. “Where did you come from? I’ll take you back there.”
Fear gripped Shannon in such an emotionally tight fist that it made breathing difficult. She knew she couldn’t hide it from him. A big, vicious werewolf in his human shape of solid muscle and strength stood just feet from her. He had to be at least six-four. She regretted climbing out of the tree. Her instincts screamed at her to flee but her legs refused to move. They were rooted to the ground—heavy and paralyzed.
“Hey,” he whispered, his deep voice turning husky. “Calm down, Shannon. It’s going to be fine.”
Her mouth opened but nothing came out. She wondered if this gripping terror came from the same part of her she’d thought she’d gotten a handle on years before. Memories surfaced of her childhood, of those gut reactions she sometimes experienced, that other part of her she chalked up to her father’s diluted but rare bloodline.
In the third grade, a bully had pushed her. She’d hissed at him and clawed his arm, not meaning to, but it just happened. In fifth grade, she’d found herself up a tree when a dog had run at her. She couldn’t remember how she’d gotten up there or even making the decision to do it, but somehow she’d discovered her ability to climb pretty much anything if fear motivated her. Her teen years had been a nightmare when the urge to eat raw meat had struck with puberty. She’d feared, along with her mother, that it meant more than it had. But she’d never changed, never done any of the other things her father could, and the fear had eventually passed.
“Where do you live? Let’s start with that.”
His voice drew her from her childhood confusion and she stared into the darkest eyes she’d ever seen. They were framed with thick, long eyelashes that matched his jet-black hair. He didn’t look at her in a way that justified her fear but it still remained in full force. She knew she had to find her voice to answer him.
“Anderson,” she got out. “I live there.”
His full lips curved downward. “That’s a distance from here. What were you doing taking a stroll in the woods?”
“I wasn’t.” Talking became easier. “I was taken from the grocery store parking lot two blocks from my apartment. That blond you hit and another guy walked up to me. The blond’s friend punched me in the face and I woke here.”
He closed his eyes and the anger that tensed his features made Shannon push tighter against the massive tree, wishing she could climb back up it, even inside it, to hide from the large wolf in skin. He softly growled before his eyes snapped open again.
“I’ll make them pay for this, okay? The important part is, I found you in time.” He paused. “If you tell anyone about this, they won’t believe it. Are you aware of that? I don’t want them locking you up in some loony bin. You’ve been through enough without that shit. I’ll get you home and you need to forget this ever happened, okay?”
She nodded, acknowledging the intelligence of his advice. The cops would put her into a straightjacket if she told them the truth. Worse, it would draw attention to her, a really bad thing, and something she’d always feared.
He relaxed. “Good. If it makes you feel any better, I’m going to beat the hell out of those boys for kidnapping you. They won’t move for weeks without regretting ever putting a finger on you.”
Shannon saw sincerity as he spoke and some of her fear eased. His anger wasn’t directed at her but at the ones who’d attacked her. She could happily deal with that. All she wanted now was to get away from him and go home. She silently promised to move out of her apartment as soon as possible. If they’d found her, someone else could too. She loved her home but she preferred remaining alive a lot more.
They both tensed when a twig snapped nearby. Their heads jerked toward the direction of the sharp sound. Shannon tried to spin around and lunge up the tree when a wolf came into view. Terror overtook everything else, but a big strong hand grabbed her arm to keep her tethered. She started to shake as the wolf growled viciously and his body lowered into a crouching position, preparing to pounce on her.
Shannon clawed at the hand holding her still, a scream trapped inside her throat, but Anton wouldn’t let go. She heard him snarl at the wolf, maybe even at her; she wasn’t sure where he directed his anger. She was too panic-stricken to do anything but try to flee.
“Enough!” Anton roared. “Jerry, back off. You’re terrifying her.”
She couldn’t break free of the hold on her arm and she couldn’t get up the tree. She needed to climb, needed to get higher, out of the wolf’s reach, and her instincts screamed in a painful blast of strong awareness.
She spun, faced Anton, and before she could stop herself, grabbed him. Her hand gripped his shoulder and she jumped, her body hitting his much larger one. To her horror, she wrapped around him, clinging to his body with every ounce of strength she had. Her legs squeezed around his waist and her face burrowed into his ne
ck.
Shock held Anton immobile as the woman trembled against his chest. Her arm wound tighter around his neck, nearly strangling him, as her legs locked around his waist and her heels dug into the muscles of his ass. Her breathing tickled as she panted against his neck. He had to move his head to see Jerry since her long, tangled red hair partially covered his face and then he glared at his pack mate.
He released her upper arm after a slight hesitation to wrap both of his around her waist, hugging her. She trembled harder when her other arm wrapped around his neck and a protective feeling spurred his anger to burn brighter at the wolf sitting in the clearing staring at him with a dazed, confused look.
“It’s okay.” He tried to comfort Shannon. “I ordered you to take off, Jerry. You’re scaring her.”
The wolf lowered his head and changed form. It irritated Anton but he couldn’t stop the other man from what he’d already started to do. When Jerry pushed up to his feet, he gawked at Anton and the woman in astonishment.
“What the hell are you doing with a cat wrapped around you?”
A cat? Anton inhaled through his nose, trying to filter the scent of her blood from the scent of the cloying cologne that hindered his usually acute sense of smell. The scents of her nearly overwhelmed him. Vanilla mixed with pure terror, woman, strawberries, and…
“Fuck,” he groaned, tensing. “You’re a shifter. No wonder they hunted you.”
Shannon quaked harder, clung more frantically, and he realized something important.
She wasn’t hurting him. No teeth tore into his exposed jugular where her lips pressed against his neck. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders but they weren’t claws. Even her strength wasn’t nearly what it should be as a shifter. He had no doubt she held on to him as tightly as she could while her adrenaline pumped, but he could throw her off with minimum effort.
Anton’s instincts started to kick in while he inhaled more of her scent, the identity of her shifter blood becoming known, and his wolf didn’t enjoy it. He growled but didn’t toss her away or crush the life from her inside the cage of his arms. He could have done either.
“Puma,” Jerry confirmed. “Weak though. I barely picked up her smell when I got close. I came to investigate who would be stupid enough to trespass into our territory. I guess you get to kill her instead of me.”
Shannon whimpered in his arms and Anton softly growled. He’d promised her safety, swore to protect her, and he always kept his word. For some reason, she trusted him to do so. He took a few steadying breaths and used every trick he’d ever learned to get a grip on his wolf so it didn’t hurt the woman he held. He finally relaxed.
“I’m not going to kill her,” he stated clearly. “Go get me some clothes, and I need my truck to drive her home.”
Jerry’s jaw dropped and then he growled. Anger tightened his features and the wolf flashed in his eyes. “Kill her. She’s our enemy.”
Anton snarled back, glaring. “I gave you an order. Go, or you’re going to be the one to die.”
Chapter Two
Shannon calmed but it took time. It embarrassed her that she couldn’t seem to control her reactions. Big, warm hands rubbed her from shoulder to waist, up and down, over and over, gently. It helped her fear recede until she finally loosened her death grip on him.
“That’s it,” Anton whispered. “Easy, kitten. Nobody is going to hurt you.”
She trembled again and finally lifted her face away from his neck. He turned his head and their gazes met. He stopped petting her and took a deep breath, pushing firmly against her body when his lungs expanded.
“You’re not a teenager.”
She shook her head.
That drew a frown from him. “I’m trying to understand why you didn’t shift when they hunted you, or when you could have attacked me.”
She just stared into his dark gaze. Her fear returned and her body tensed.
“Easy.” His tone lowered. “I’m not going to hurt you and you’re not going to hurt me.”
She couldn’t wound him if she tried, and that was the problem. She finally looked away from his intense dark eyes to study his masculine features—wide cheekbones, straight nose, and generous lips. He needed to shave, a little bit of dark beard shadowed his jawline and upper lip. It could have been a lingering effect after his transformation, since he appeared to have more than a little Native American ancestry. His silky black hair fell to his shoulders, all one length, parted down the center. Her gaze returned to his.
“You could have gotten away. I’ve gone after your kind before and I know how fast you can run. Why didn’t you? Toying with a bunch of wolves isn’t overly bright, and you look old enough to know better.”
Shannon had to clear the lump in her throat before she could speak. “I can’t,” she whispered.
He frowned, deep lines marring the area around his mouth. “You can’t what?”
Fear of sharing the truth with him made her pause. She didn’t know werewolf customs or beliefs. She had been assured that her father’s family would consider her an abomination, something that shouldn’t be. Had his family known about her, and had they been given the chance, they’d have killed her at birth.
“You can’t what? Be intelligent?” His eyebrow rose.
“Shift,” she admitted.
He blinked, his frown melted away, and surprise registered on his features. “Are you that injured?” He sniffed. “I smell blood on you but not a lot.”
“Do you still promise not to hurt me?”
“I always keep my word.”
Again, he seemed sincere. Her tongue darted out to wet her dry lips. His gaze followed the movement before lifting back to meet her eyes when she spoke.
“My mother is human, and my father was only half puma from having a human father.”
The handsome man studied her carefully. “Shit. You’re more human than puma. You really can’t shift?”
She shook her head.
“No claws or teeth?”
She released him with one arm and held up her hand, showed him her fingernails, and then pulled back her upper lip to display her normal teeth. “I’m terrified,” she admitted, curling her fingers around the hot skin at the curve of his shoulder. “If I could, I’d have done it by now.”
“You scent of shifter but it’s very faint.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Your father didn’t tell you?”
Shannon hesitated again, wondered what he’d do if he realized she had no one to protect her, and no one to avenge her if he broke his word. No worried shifter family would look for her or care if he dumped her dead body into the nearest ravine.
“I asked you a question and I expect an answer.” He adjusted his hold on her, one arm sliding under her ass to lift her a little higher until their faces were level while he peered into her eyes. “He didn’t warn you that other shifters could detect you’re part puma?”
“No.” That is the truth, she mentally admitted.
“He should watch out for you better. I’ve heard your males are really protective of their women. I’m not picking up a male scent on you so I assume you don’t have a mate?”
“No mate.”
“You’re sure old enough for one. Is it because you’re defective?”
Some of her fear left to be replaced by anger. A lifetime of being deemed a freak haunted her, and had her on the defense. “Are you mated?”
“No.”
“You’re sure old enough. Are you defective too?”
The arm tightened around her waist and a soft growl rumbled from his parted lips. “Careful, kitten. Don’t insult me.”
Fear flashed inside her and it cooled her temper. She wasn’t lipping off to just some random guy. This was a real werewolf. “You insulted me first. You should have seen the look on your face, the disbelief, and you smirked.”
“Did I?” His mouth twitched and humor lit his dark gaze. “It surprised me.” His attention lingered on her mouth, slid
to her hair, and then returned to stare deeply into her eyes. “You’re attractive as hell.”
Mute again, she had no idea how to respond to that, never expecting a compliment from him. He took another deep breath, watched her, and then cocked his head.
“Someone is coming. Are you calm enough now for me to put you down without you trying to climb the nearest tree, or me, again?”
“I don’t know. My instincts kind of take over when I’m super scared and then it’s a blur until I find myself in bad places, like at the top of a tree.” She glanced down at his broad chest. “You’re the first man I ever climbed, if that helps any, but you wouldn’t let me go, in my defense. Something inside me wanted off the ground.”
“Instincts can be a bitch.” He turned his head slightly to peer into the woods. “Hang on to me then. You’re about to be terrified. Four of my pack mates are approaching.”
He moved when she buried her face against his skin again, closed her eyes, and wrapped both arms around his neck to hold on tightly once more. Her back gently brushed the trunk of the tree she’d abandoned and he pinned her there, inside his embrace. She heard leaves crunch nearby and sucked in Anton’s masculine scent. For some strange reason, it helped her not freak out when the first growl of alarm sounded once his pack mates saw or smelled her.
“That’s far enough.” Anton’s voice came out deep and commanding, harsh. “Go home.”
“Cat,” a male snarled. He growled louder. “Toss her this way. I want a bite. She smells sweet.”
Anton’s entire body stiffened. He felt similar to the tree trunk pressed against her backside. The terrifying snarl of rage near her left ear had her holding back a whimper. Instincts flared to life again and it took every bit of concentration not to struggle to get out of his arms. She wanted to run or climb a tree, but definitely not be in that clearing near a werewolf who wanted to make a snack out of her.
“Back off,” Anton roared. “Mine!”
“Fuck,” another voice grumbled. “What happened to sharing a fresh kill?”