"Eventually, I got to Mingan's house. Mingan answered the door, but seemed agitated. He wouldn't answer any of my questions, and he wouldn't let me inside. While I was standing on his stoop, trying to get any sort of information from him, I heard noises out back. Mingan tried to stop me from going back there, but I broke away from him and ran around to the back of the house. When I got there, I saw a bunch of Wolcott shifters in a circle, and Randi, lying on the ground in a pool of blood. She had bite marks all over her, and she wasn't moving." His voice broke. "I couldn't revive her; she was too far gone by the time I got there.”

  Tristan hung his head in his hands for a moment, his fingers threading through his dark hair. I sat frozen, not knowing whether to touch him. Finally, he slowly raised his head again. Elbows on his knees, he continued in a dead voice. "From what I found out later, Randi had run to Lowell after her fight with my parents and begged for him to turn her. He took her to Mingan's house. I guess he had been planning to 'share' her with his pack brothers," he said bitterly. "Apparently, with all those young, testosterone-filled shifters in one place, things got out of hand, and she ended up being savaged by all of them. Instead of turning her, they ended up killing her." He looked up at me with steely hatred in his eyes for those who had assassinated his sister.

  I shuddered, remembering my nightmare. Maybe it was more real than I had thought. I almost burst into tears, fear mingling with regret for Tristan. He had lost a family member at the hands of Lowell and Mingan and their pack. I could only imagine that Lowell and Mingan might have done the same to me. No wonder he had been protecting me so fiercely. I must have reminded him of his sister. Maybe on some level, he felt obligated to succeed with someone else where he had failed with her.

  "Tristan, I'm so sorry," I murmured. I was almost afraid to make a move toward him. He seemed coiled as tight as a spring, trying to hold on to his emotions. I sat silently for a moment, and then tentatively reached up to touch his cheek. Amazingly, he didn't brush my hand away. Instead my touch seemed to release something in him. He caught my hand in his, then looked me deep in the eyes and brought his lips to mine in a long, deep, lingering kiss.

  "I'm so glad I was able to get you away from them that night," he whispered. "God knows what they would have done to you."

  "Tristan..." I breathed, kissing him back passionately. We remained like that for a few moments, and then I gently broke away. The story wasn't over yet.

  "You still haven't told me why you don't belong to your pack anymore," I prodded gently.

  Tristan's eyes darkened again, and he sighed. He leaned back against the couch, an exhausted look on his face. "My pack refused to seek justice for Randi's death. My father wanted to, and so did I, but our pack leader ordered no retribution. It's a delicate time for weres lately. There have been quite a few episodes recently where packs have been... sloppy... in their hunting, and risked making our presence known to humans. Our packmaster said he couldn't risk a ritual retribution bloodshed that might devolve into something out of control. Packs have a strict hierarchical relationship with their packmaster, so there was no arguing with him, and there was no one at the time who was strong enough to challenge him.”

  He looked at me as he continued. "Honestly, I've always suspected that part of the reason our packmaster refused to seek justice was that Randi wasn't a were. It wasn't worth risking his pack to avenge a mere human," he spit out. "My father accepted his ruling. I did not." Tristan finished simply. "I decided I preferred to be in no pack at all than a pack that refused to seek justice for the innocent."

  I nodded. I could understand that. I could also feel, deep inside myself, how lonely it must be for him. He had no one of his kind to be with him.

  "Do you still see your parents?" I asked softly.

  "I do,” he sighed, “but not very often. It's hard for all of us. Randi's death is always in the room with us when we're together. I don't agree with my father's decision. I can't understand how my mom accepts it, either. Randi was her daughter, and human, just like her. It's best that we just agree to disagree, but it's too hard to put it in the past, so we mostly avoid one another."

  "Wait," I interjected. "Your mom is still human? Your dad never turned her?"

  "No.” Tristan shook his head. “She never wanted to be turned, and my dad never pushed her. It was fine for them, but it did cause some tensions with the pack sometimes. After they had me, and it was obvious I was a shifter, the pack began to accept my mom more readily. But they were pretty disappointed that Randi wasn't a were.” He looked at me sadly. “Maybe that's part of what made Randi want so badly to become one."

  I sat in silence for a long moment, still in his arms. I felt him yawn, an enormous shuddering yawn, and I wasn’t long behind him. "Come on," I said to him, detaching myself from him. "We should get some rest."

  "Yeah, I'm tired, too" he said, seemingly just realizing it. I got up from the couch and put the rest of the leftover pizza in the fridge, then went back into the living room and held out my hand to him. He took it and got up from the couch to follow me into the bedroom. I was so weary, and so saddened by Tristan’s story, that I barely registered I was stripping off my clothes in front of him with no embarrassment. I threw everything into the laundry hamper, and then turned to see Tristan sitting on the bed, following my naked ass across the room with his eyes. Just as I reached the bathroom, I heard a squeaking sound from the box spring, and then he was in front of me, naked and majestic, his rod stiffening as he looked down at me. "Maybe we could put off sleep for just a little bit longer?" he murmured, his eyes dark with lust.

  Tristan cupped my left breast in his hand and brought his lips down to graze the nipple. Instantly, all thoughts of sleep flew from my head. I brought my hand to his stiff shaft, caressing the smooth skin that encased his throbbing heat. He moaned in response, and suddenly I just had to have him in my mouth. Kneeling down, I reached out and slowly touched him, the tip of my finger grazing his shaft. It spasmed and grew in response. I brushed my fingers softly up and down, before encircling the shaft with my hand, lightly stroking up and down. Tristan was moaning, and every moan made me wetter and wetter with desire. A drop of clear liquid formed at the tip of his large mushroom head, and I stroked it with my index finger, using the lubrication to slide from his tip down to the sensitive part on the underside just below the head. I leaned in and began to run my tongue up and down the underside. I heard Tristan gasp in response, and felt him almost stumble back before he caught the wall with his hand and leaned against it.

  Needing to feel the heat of his silky skin on my tongue, I took his head in my mouth. His groan turned into a whimper as my tongue swirled around his head. I savored the sweet-salty taste of him, wanting more of him in my mouth, but wanting to take my time, making him beg for me. I licked him softly, sucking at his head, feeling him swell against my tongue. I encircled him at the base with my hand and slowly took more of him in my mouth, moving slowly up and down, taking a bit more of him in with every slow stroke. He struggled not to thrust toward me. Reaching down with his hand, he stroked my cheek as his breathing grew more ragged and hot. His fingers went to feel the place where my wet lips met his throbbing cock. I pushed him deeper into my mouth, swirling along the base and shaft with my tongue as his fingers caressed my cheek and felt my lips as they enveloped his shaft. I could feel his hardness pulse inside my mouth, and I knew he was getting close to the point of no return.

  Suddenly he pushed me away from him, and as I looked up I saw the intensity of his desire in his eyes. Before I knew what was happening, I was in his arms being laid down on the bed. "I have to have you, now!" he growled, his voice full of animal need. He reached between my legs, and I was already so wet and swollen that I cried out. I reached for him and pushed my wet lips against his head, needing him inside me. He cupped his hands under my ass and pulled me toward him, slowly impaling me on his huge member. "Oh, God, Kait," he cried hoarsely, as he pushed into me deeply, filling me. A wave of electric pleasure erupted inside me as he angled himself so that his hot hardness slid slickly against my lower lips. I moaned his name as he continued to slide himself against me, building the tension inside me as I arched my back and thrust against him in rhythm with his movements. I could feel him growing even larger inside me as he rocked his hips against me. I rode a wave growing inside me as he started to move faster and faster.

  I began crying out with each thrust, and my cries urged him on, until he was moaning my name, "Kait, oh, God, Kait, yes..." in a frenzied half-whisper. The heat built and built in me, until suddenly, the wave crashed over me and I screamed as I came harder than I had ever come in my life. Spasm after spasm rocked me as Tristan slammed himself inside me over and over. My orgasm pushed him over the edge and he cried my name in a half-howl. He exploded inside me, and I felt every glorious wave of his seed as he emptied himself deep in my core. He shuddered with me as we both rode our orgasms together, clutching one another as though we were the only things anchoring each other to the earth.

  My contractions continued for a few minutes as I came down slowly. When I opened my eyes finally, Tristan was staring at me, his eyes seeming to glow with an unearthly light. The intensity of his gaze might have made me feel uncomfortable once, but now I returned it. As I looked at him, I noticed he looked different somehow. His facial features seemed to have lengthened, his chest and shoulder muscles seemingly larger and more taut. My confusion must have registered on my face, because he half-smiled and said, "Is it noticeable?"

  "What is it? You look different."

  "I... in the heat of the moment, I almost changed. I don't know. It's never happened to me before. I managed to control it, but I definitely felt the change building. Please don't be afraid," he said, suddenly looking alarmed.

  "I'm not," I assured him. And the funny thing is, I wasn't.

  5

  The next morning, we woke late again, and stayed in bed until after ten. We made slow, tender love, and then slept a bit more. Then finally, around lunchtime, hunger finally drove us out from under the covers. After showering... well, "showering"... and getting dressed, we headed out to grab lunch. Tristan had called to get a tow company to come get his car, and we drove by the empty space in the street as we pulled out of my driveway. We went to a great sandwich place I knew not too far from my house, and ate as though we had never eaten before. There's something about really great sex that makes you need fuel, now. “You know,” I said to him as we munched, “we really need to go grocery shopping.”

  “Later,” he replied. “Right now, I just want to enjoy the day with you.”

  After the restaurant, we just spent the afternoon wandering around the city together. Though I had lived there my whole life, something about discovering it with Tristan made everything feel new and yet familiar. It was a magical afternoon, and I found myself completely forgetting about Lowell and Mingan for the first time since that horrible night.

  We did manage to get to a grocery store and pick a few things up for dinner. Groceries in the back seat, we returned to my place just as the sun was setting, happy and sun-tired. We were heading up the walk, carrying a grocery bag a piece, when Tristan froze, pulling me to a stop.

  "What?" I queried him as he stood rooted to the spot.

  "They've been here. I can smell them," he said with a look of disgust.

  The front door had obviously been jimmied open. Inside, my living room was a horror show. They had done everything with the intent of maximum destruction. My sofa cushions had been ripped apart, the stuffing spilling out everywhere. Glass was all over the floor. Bookshelves had been pulled to the ground, lamps shattered, the television smashed in.

  "God DAMN it!" I yelled. I was no longer afraid. I was furious. I couldn't stand knowing I was so weak, so unable to defend myself. I hated feeling terrorized. I hated that they knew they could scare me, that they were toying with me, and with Tristan, who couldn't protect me forever. It was just a fact: as long as I was human, we were on borrowed time.

  My mind whirled as I stood there. I couldn’t do this anymore. I looked at Tristan, so strong beside me. If I was a were, I wouldn’t have to worry. I could be his. We could be a pack together… couldn’t me? And even if he didn’t want me, at least I’d be strong. At least I could defend myself. I could run. I could fight.

  "Tristan," I said, turning to him with determination. "Turn me."

  6

  "No, Kait. No," he whispered, his eyes wide. “You can’t know what you’re saying.”

  "You have to,” I insisted. I couldn’t believe what I was saying. But I wanted him to. I really wanted him to. “Tristan, I need you to. Please, listen to me."

  Tristan looked at me and shook his head. "Kait, I can't,” he said firmly. “It’s not right…”

  "Once I'm bitten," I interrupted, "they can't get me. Right? I'll be part of..." I trailed off. It was on the tip of my tongue to say, “I’ll be part of your pack.” But Tristan didn't have a pack. If we were together… But I had no right to hope that he would want to stay with me. For all I knew, he was only protecting me out of guilt about his sister’s death. And even if we did stay together, would that mean that I was off limits to other weres? I realized there were still so many things I didn't know. I really couldn’t have any idea whether I wanted to be a shifter; I had no way of knowing what it would be like. But I knew, suddenly and beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I wanted to be with Tristan. And I knew for damn sure I wanted to be able to defend myself against Lowell and Mingan. They were clearly hunting me, and they weren't going to stop unless we stopped them. Maybe the two of us together could fight them.

  “No,” he repeated stubbornly. “I can’t do that to you.”

  “Do what to me?” I asked. “Is being a were… don’t you like it?”

  At this, Tristan looked at me, and his face broke into a beautiful grin. “Yes,” he said. “I like it. I love it.” His eyes shone. “When I’m in wolf form… there’s nothing like it. Weres live primarily in human form mostly because it’s easier – less dangerous – for us to blend in with society. But when I’m a wolf, I’m truly alive.” He smiled, clearly thinking about the feeling of giving in to his dual nature. “Your senses, your muscles, the way everything tastes, smells, feels… It’s amazing. Sometimes, when I’ve shifted, I don’t ever want to shift back.”

  “Then if it’s so great to be a were,” I persisted, “Why won’t you turn me?

  Tristan had been staring off into the distance. I could tell he was thinking about what I had asked, and I could tell that he was trying to think of a way to talk me out of my request. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, then looked at me. "Kait,” he began gently. He led me to the couch and sat me down. “The change, when you're bitten, it's... different than when you're born a shifter. Shifters who are born that way, well... it's in their blood, in their genes. It's part of their puberty. They start shifting at the same time their human forms start to mature. It's a natural process, and they have their pack to help them through it. It’s a little hard the first few times, but they've seen others go through it, so they know what to expect.

  “But when you're bitten... the process is much more violent.” He looked into my eyes, his expression grave. “It can be scary, and it can be very painful, especially for the ones who don't grow up around shifters."

  I knew he was trying to warn me away from it, but all I could think of was that by even discussing it with me, he was actually considering it. I did all I could to push him toward agreeing.

  "But Tristan,” I coaxed. “I'd have you to help me through it. You can tell me all about what will happen, and you can be there to be my guide." But as I was talking, the horrible thought persisted: What if Tristan doesn't want to be there for me? True, he had been staying with me and protecting me for the better part of the last month. We had spent 24/7 together pretty much since the first night we met. We had had the most amazing, earth-shattering sex possible, and I felt like I knew his body -- well, his human body, anyway -- almost as well as my own. But that didn't mean that we were "together" now. Hell, it didn't even mean he was doing anything but being helpful to me, and getting a little "reward" on the side. My face turned red with shame as I realized how much I had come to assume without really even thinking about it. Somehow, I had started thinking of us as a couple, almost as soul mates, and I realized now that he hadn't given me the slightest reason to think that way.

  I started to backpedal now, shame heating my face bright red. "I'm sorry, Tristan, I realize I can't ask you to do this for me. I'm not your... I mean, I'm not really anything to you..." I took a deep breath, let it out, and said, more composed now, "Thank you very much for helping me and protecting me this past month. I realize I had no reason to expect you to do that, and you are certainly under no obligation to keep doing it."

  Tristan stared at me while I recited this speech, willing myself to keep my tone light and formal. When I was done he grasped me by the shoulders and looked hard into my eyes. "Kait," he said urgently. "Do you not know how I feel about you?"

  How could I? I thought to myself. You've never told me. But that wasn't fair, after all. I hadn't told him how I felt, either. "No," I said in a small voice.

  A look of anguish flitted across his features. “Kait. Goddamn it, Kate,” he cried softly.

  “What?” I had no idea what he seemed so angry, so tortured about. “Please, just tell me!” I couldn’t stand it. If he was going to tell me there was someone else – or simply that he just didn’t feel anything for me beyond sex – I needed to know. Right now. It was unbearable like this. I realized how much my whole self – my whole being – had turned toward him in the past few days. He – this – had become my world. If he was going to leave me, I needed to know it now. While I could still survive the thought of him leaving me.

 

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