Beauty's Beast(13)

Alon did not get far before he scented Samantha. Damn her for not staying put. He wheeled and followed her trail.

He should have explained the danger. He had not, for to do so was to reveal completely what he had been. Still was. Always would be.

He’d been too weak to let her see his true self, and now she was here. He scented the air to assure himself that the Gamma and Delta packs were not near. When he closed on her position, he shifted from his flying form, moving swiftly to one of the many caches of clothing he had about these woods. In a few moments he wore the damp gray sweater and black jeans.

Then he changed course again, running to intercept her and bring her back to the house. The fear for her safety bolted through him like a thunderstorm. He had always felt protective of his family and responsible for the actions of the others. But this was something new, because until this minute he had never been afraid.

Samantha made him afraid.

Why should he care?

He didn’t understand it. But since the moment she had appeared from that storm, she had consumed him. He craved contact of her flesh to his and longed for that trembling emotion that he felt vibrate through her each time he pressed his body to hers. She knew what he was, but she could not know what he was capable of. If she did, she never would have stayed the night.

Somehow he had kept away. But each time he saw her, the urge to have her grew stronger. He wanted to devour her. Taste her skin on his tongue and feel his body joining with hers.

Samantha exposed his weakness and his corporal need.

Anticipation and worry beat in his chest. He would find her, ensure her safety and then...Alon’s speed quickened.

He found her a moment later hurrying along the footpath his Alphas used to run their territory. The trail ran parallel to the curving drive that led to the highway.

“What are you doing here?”

Samantha startled. The thick rope braid swung over her shoulder and settled between her breasts. Today she was dressed for the woods in a scooped-neck shirt and light fleece vest that hugged her bosom. His skin itched as he looked at the generous curve of her hips emphasized by her tight jeans.

“I...I...”

“Go back.”

She recovered quickly. Color still flooded her pretty face, but now she was scowling at him. It didn’t help. He still wanted her. His attention fixed on her raspberry-colored lips. What would it feel like to brush his mouth to hers, press her soft curves to his hard ones and meld together like hot metal?

“You are not my keeper.” She managed the words with just the right amount of indignation.

“Obviously, or I would have locked you up.”

She gasped at that. He smiled, picturing her locked in the bedroom he once occupied, waiting for him there in that short little cotton nightie.

He moved closer. The lecture he had given himself, the knowledge that his very presence here endangered her, was not enough to stop him. Not enough to drown out the roar of need she roused in him.

He captured her easily, so easily that if he did not know better he would almost guess that she came here only for this.

Then he recalled that she had never seen his fighting form. He should show her now. No. He never would.

Samantha would know only the handsome, virile form that drew human females like nectar draws bees. She would know only the lie. He could take her if he wanted, and she’d let him unless she discovered what he was inside. Then she’d run screaming. He drew her closer.

Someday she’d realize what he was. Then he’d let her go. But for now he was just selfish enough to take what she offered—consequences be damned.





Chapter 7



Alon tilted his head. Samantha gazed up at him, her eyes half-closed as if she were caught on the edge of a dream. Her lips parted and she lifted her chin, as the appeal of his third form drew her to him, making her eager now for what he would give her.

He couldn’t. Taking a woman would cause the cycle to begin again. If his kind reproduced, the Living World would never be rid of them. Alon’s convictions collided hard with his desires.

She brought a hand to his cheek, and his craving for this woman drowned all his high-minded philosophy and notions of selfless sacrifice. His desire pounded and poured like floodwaters, sweeping away all objections.

She was his woman. He needed her and she was willing. That was enough.

Samantha made no objections. Was the attraction so all-consuming that she could not think at all?

She was on her toes now, and her arms encircled his neck as if she were capturing him.

Their mouths met, firm, eager, greedy.

Alon deepened the kiss, holding the little Skinwalker tight to his body. Did she know she played with fire?

Strong emotions brought the change. With the thinning of his control the demon inside took over. He feared that side and still he let her kiss him deep and hard, their tongues stroking and sparing.

He relished each small quavering sound of need that now emanated from her throat. She tightened her arms about his neck, trying to hold him. If she knew what was inside him she’d be fighting for escape.

Alon threaded his fingers in her thick dark hair, cradling her head, controlling her in a way that both thrilled and terrified. Her lips were velvet and her mouth hot and wet. He thought of that sweet mouth, that strong tongue working on another part of him, and his body hardened with need. Here was a woman who wanted him and whom he wanted. And one strong enough to take all he would give her. A Skinwalker. A great grizzly bear.

He growled as his skin tingled, signaling the beginning of his change. She’d made a mistake letting him touch her, because now he was never going to let her go.

She made another sound that might have been alarm, and he feared she would draw back. No, he wouldn’t let her. But she didn’t. Instead, she delved her fingers into his hair, tucking herself beneath his arm, lifting a warm thigh to his hip and using her heel to pull herself even closer to him.

He could take her beneath this very tree. He felt his nails extend and harden into the claws that were as vicious as knife blades. His mouth widened, stretching to accommodate the teeth poised to jut from his gums.

Alon tore away.

Samantha rocked forward, catching herself on the trunk of a tree on one extended arm, her expression momentarily dazed, her sweet pink mouth parted and her cheeks flushed with desire. He’d never forget that dreamy expression. He paused to drink her in, mouth open, panting and her lips swollen from his kisses. Before she could focus her eyes upon him, he shifted, soaring upward into the trees like the exhaust from a rocket. Just one more second and she would have seen him as he was born.

He’d been right to fear his control. A single kiss and he’d nearly let her see.

Alon dived and darted through the forest, surging away from Samantha as fast as he could.

Until today he’d shifted into his fighting form only when angry. But he’d been right to fear Samantha. His excitement for her was new, strong and dangerous.

He’d almost turned into his fighting form right in front of her. His monster form, that was more accurate. The form he could not bear to look at even himself. But it was a shape that was strong and deadly and thus far unmatched.

What would Samantha have done, he wondered, had she seen the rows of teeth snarling and snapping? Run? Scream? Turn away in disgust?

A fresh wave of shame broke inside him. He was born of the dead. He knew it was true. She’d been right to call his kind Toe Taggers, for it highlighted all he was in just two little words. Was he part of this Living World as his parents insisted, or was it as he feared—that he belonged to the world of ghosts?

He rocketed forward, fleeing, flying from the pretty little temptation. If she had any sense she would run in the opposite direction.

His willingness to compromise everything in which he believed in the heat of lust only proved that he had been right. Since he was old enough to understand what he was and where he had come from, he had known that he was a threat to the Balance, to everything good and pure in this living world. He knew it, felt it in his beating heart. And he had nearly hurt the only good thing that had ever come his way. He did not belong in this living world. He belonged with the dead and the evil and the dark.

Would she forgive him?

If he had any pity, any shred of humanity, he would leave her behind and never return. As he flew from her, he pictured her in his mind, the pretty dark brown hair caught in a long ropelike braid, healthy skin the color of a walnut shell. He found her full lips enticing. Her eyes were cinnamon brown with golden flecks near the iris, and the corners of her lids sloped upward, slightly giving her a smoldering look that kicked him in the stomach whenever she stared at him. He liked that and he liked her curvy shape and full breasts. What would she look like naked?

He recalled their kiss. Why had his flesh tingled when she touched him? He had never experienced anything like that before.

Alon’s distraction prevented him from immediately perceiving several of his kind moving in the forest.

Yearlings hunting in a pack. The Deltas moving fast along the forest floor. He’d found them.