A wolf is not meant to live on anger, to survive being a shell. It will eventually turn them feral. I’ve never seen it, but I’ve heard whispers of it my entire life. Supposedly, a wolf in our pack named Dakota turned feral after losing his son. I don’t remember it. It happened at a time I was gone from Unforgiven to see some of the world before settling down and preparing myself to help my father and Wyatt’s… to help Wyatt.

I slam the door on my past memories. I don’t need those, it defeats the purpose of me letting my wolf run.

Another gust of wind rises up and with it a scent that slides into me like warm liquid. It melds in me, seems to infuse with my veins, my very cells, blending with my blood and running through my heart, causing it to beat harder, to beat… fiercer. My wolf whines, as an all-over body shudder moves through me. It feels like the earth tilts on its axis and it settles inside of me.

One word rings clear, vibrating in my brain. My wolf howls in victory.

Mate.

Mine.

My wolf leaps through the brush, pounding through the forest at breakneck speed intent only on getting to her. I can smell her sweet scent, a mixture of wild honeysuckle and jasmine. It’s odd how defined those scents are, overriding everything else. I begin to try and wrangle my wolf. I don’t want him to scare her with the intensity of need that is hitting both me and my animal.

And, as much as I love my wolf being a part of me, the first time I meet my mate I prefer to be in human form.

I want to feel her with my hands, kiss her lips with mine, memorize her body and get her used to my touch. There will be time for my wolf to bond with her later.

It feels like it takes me forever to get control of my animal side. We’re almost at the edge of the forest when I finally do. As I break through the tree line, bones begin breaking and realigning, features begin changing and my eyesight begins to adjust. I look down and slowly see my paws change into hands. To the outsider it would look painful, but it’s not. It feels natural.

The problem is that now I’m standing at the edge of the clearing out by the old county road twenty-one and I’m naked. There’s a car pulled to the side of the road. Standing beside it is a woman dressed in faded jeans and a white T-shirt. She’s got hair the color of midnight, the locks long and falling in soft waves that cascade all the way down her back. Her face is soft and pale, reminding me of the moonlight I love. Her eyes are big, bright and with my vision, even with the small distance between us, I can tell are green.

I can hear her heart beating a frantic rhythm, and I can smell her fear. I don’t want that. It’s to be expected. We might be mates, but there’s an air of innocence in her scent. I look around frantically for something to cover myself with.

There’s nothing.

I can’t meet her like this. My wolf whines in argument, but I shut him down. The woman is looking in my direction.

She’s not human and my wolf can sense her inner animal at the surface, ready to fight, to protect.

She can sense me, but she’s scared—way too scared to meet me like this. Right now, I want to push her down against her car and fuck her raw as I bite into her soft skin and mark her as mine. I can’t do that. Her scent is thick with innocence. She’s untouched.

Virginal and scared.

I let my mind open, reaching out to touch hers. If we had that connection, I would mate with her now. I wouldn’t give her a choice, couldn’t control myself. Her thoughts are rapid and definitely laced with fear. She’s afraid of me. My wolf hurts, not wanting that any more than I do. She may be a shifter, but somehow, she’s been kept away from our baser instincts. That fact is a puzzle to me, one I cannot wait to piece together.

She has but one thought that rings out over and over.

Cornerstone Motel.

She’s headed there, I can feel it. Satisfied that I know where she’ll be, I drag one last breath deep in my chest, taking in her scent, memorizing it. I’ll track her, find her easily, and when I do, I’ll never let her go.3JasindaThey found me.

There is no other explanation to what I felt out there in the middle of nowhere, my car broken down, the feeling I was being watched strong.

Then again, I knew they would.

I left, escaped my duties, turned my back on my pack, my father, and the man I am betrothed to. But I can’t go back. I refuse.


Tags: Jenika Snow, Jordan Marie Unforgiven Country Fantasy