10. Chapter 10 #2
“Welcome to the Crimson Moon run,” Conall called out. “You should know the rules by now. Stay on Pack lands, don’t harm or kill anyone, and be back and dressed before the sun comes up. And no one besides me touches Riley.”
Several shifters glanced at me, and Jamie let out a loud wolf whistle. I waved awkwardly at everyone. A few benches had been dragged out from the barn, and people started stripping and depositing their clothing there.
The magic intensified as their movements grew more fluid and primal, as if they shed their civilized veneer along with their clothes. I stood on the deck, watching the ancient ritual unfold. Despite the coldness within me, my soul stirred at the excitement and raw power.
Several younger Pack members had already stripped, their clothes tossed under a large maple tree near the field and the forest beyond.
They showed no embarrassment as bodies of all shapes and sizes stood, illuminated by the firelight, their skin glowing amber.
My mind recorded their physiques and interactions, but beneath that, a flicker of envy and awe arose at their effortless sense of belonging.
Conall stood at the center, authority and primal power radiating from him. When he began to unbutton his shirt, my attention sharpened. His movements were unhurried. He shrugged the fabric from his shoulders, muscles rippling beneath tanned skin. My body responded with a familiar warmth.
“You’re staring,” Sahara whispered. I hadn’t realized she was still there.
“I am.” I nodded toward the group, not taking my eyes off Conall as he stared back. “Enjoy your run.”
“I will,” Sahara snickered and walked down the steps toward the Pack.
Conall’s body was a masterpiece of lean muscle, scars, and strict training. When he unbuttoned his jeans, several female Pack members drew in breaths. I registered their reactions with clinical detachment, but something hot and possessive flickered inside.
One by one, the wolves began to shift, a process both violent and magnificent. Bones cracked and reshaped, skin stretched, and fur sprouted as human features elongated into muzzles.
Conall shifted easily, his body contorting as muscles bulged and bones realigned.
The process took only seconds as he shifted into a massive charcoal-black wolf with a beautiful silver undercoat.
His intelligent gold eyes gleamed as he gazed around and spotted me.
Then he bared his teeth in what I hoped was a smile.
His wolf drew me in a different way than Conall did. He saw me as his mate and his home, and his energy told me I would always have a refuge with him. In many ways, I was closer to the wolf than to the man, and I trusted the animal implicitly.
The Pack formed a loose circle around Conall’s wolf, their hierarchical positions evident in their proximity.
Lexa and her friends worked to position themselves near the front, their postures revealing their ambitions.
Lexa’s wolf form was striking. Sleek and elegant with a silvery-gray coat that shimmered in the moonlight.
I straightened as she approached Conall, her movements calculated. She sidled up to him, brushing against his flank in an intimate, provocative gesture.
Her scent-marking behavior registered in my analytical mind even as something else flared in my chest. Indignant rage so sudden and intense, electricity crackled in my veins. A snarl ripped from me, the sound not quite human.
Conall’s reaction was immediate. His massive head swung around, ears flattening as he growled viciously and shouldered Lexa’s wolf aside with enough force to send her tumbling.
The rejection was unequivocal, witnessed by the entire Pack.
Lexa’s wolf regained her balance, head lowered in submission, her eyes flashing with humiliation.
Ash’s wolf tracked me, as if ready to intercept me if I went after the foolish she-wolf. But my focus remained on my mate as the Pack parted before him. I walked forward to meet him halfway.
He stopped at the bottom of the steps, his massive head level with my chest, those intelligent eyes locking onto mine. Through our bond, I felt his animal, wild and more primal than the man. The connection vibrated between us, thawing more of the ice inside me.
He pressed his muzzle into my stomach, his warm breath and soft fur delicious against my skin. “Hello, Wolf. I’m happy to see you.” I buried my fingers in his thick fur, and his eyes closed at my touch.
We existed in perfect understanding. His enormous body rubbed against me as if trying to lose Lexa’s scent.
I laughed when he leaned in and licked my face.
Then he stepped back and regarded me before throwing his head back and howling.
The joyful sound resonated through me. Around us, the Pack responded, their howls joining in a happy chorus that pierced the night.
My skin prickled with goosebumps despite the mild evening air. Conall turned and bounded toward the tree line, his wolves following, a river of fur and muscle flowing into the dark forest. Their howls echoed back through the trees, growing more distant with each passing second.
Micah sighed beside me. “Lexa’s gonna be grumpy. She’s not a bad sister, but she can be a brat.”
I stared at the tree line, then turned to him. “She shouldn’t have touched him without his consent. If she does it again, I’ll shock her.”
Micah’s eyebrows shot up as he tried to hide his grin. “Yeah, that’d probably hurt.”
“Yeah, it would.” I turned back to the forest and fingered the wolf necklace at my throat.
The last of the wolves slipped into the shadows, and a strange mix of emotions surged through the cracks in my ice. Pride and a fierce satisfaction at his wolf’s sharp rejection of Lexa.
And beneath it all lay a deep, quiet sadness that I’d never truly share this part of him. That wild freedom of running in wolf form was an experience we’d never have, no matter how strong our bond grew.