Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

K ira

I open my eyes to find that I'm lying on a cool tile floor.

There's a humming sound around me, coming through the walls. It takes me a moment to realize that it's electricity. Like the buzz of a fridge that isn't working quite right, or a malfunctioning fluorescent light, except it is all around me.

What the hell happened?

Was I drugged?

My tongue feels weird in my mouth. Larger and unwieldier than usual. Lolling out the side of my lips like there's something wrong with me. I taste floor.

When I try to get up, I find myself on my hands and knees. But they're not my hands and knees. They're my feet and my feet. And they're furry.

Some part of my mind is panicking. But another part of my mind is finding this all very natural, like I knew this was what I was all along, but I just sort of forgot. I'm given to worrying normally, but there's no space for worry right now.

Instead, there's a hunger.

I'm hungry.

Very, very hungry.

I get up and pace around the bathroom once or twice before heading for the door. The handle is round. I can't get a grip on it with my teeth or paws. They all just slide off the material. Frustrated, I back up a few steps and look at the barrier. I am starting to panic, and there is nothing in my mind right now about respecting property. All I care about is getting out. In that regard, the door in front of me isn't really an obstacle. My animal brain has always known that about doors, really. They're more of a suggestion than a real barrier.

I back up as far as I can, I bunch my limbs up very tightly, and I make a run for it, breaking through the relatively flimsy barrier with impressive ease. It's like tearing through paper as the door bursts off its hinges and splinters all around me.

I come flying through, landing on four agile feet. I am strong. And I am hungry.

Cain

I wasn't ready for this.

When a female shifter is mated for the first time, she undergoes her first transformation. I should never have had sex with Kira in my office. When she passed out and shifted, my private elevator was the only way to get her out of the building without drawing attention.

New shifters are notoriously messy and troublesome. Not their fault, it's just how it is when you go from thinking you're a normal person to discovering that you're actually a predator with all of the instincts of a wild beast and very little human control over any of them anymore.

I took her back to a place I have near the park. It's quiet, and it's pretty secure. Then I ran out for the meat she's going to crave when she wakes up. I have an armful of meat in my hands as I look for my keys to unlock the door of…

Blam!

A loud, destructive noise comes from inside the apartment. That's not good. That's not good at all.

I should have put a thumb sensor on this door, though they're not really as secure as people like to think. The lock on this thing is state of the art, but I need the right damn key. Okay. There it is.

I unlock the door, push it open, and a wall of fur and fear comes rushing past me in a blind panic. There's no stopping her as she dashes down the hall, takes a left, and heads to the emergency exit. I give chase just in time to see her leap at it, her paws contacting the horizontal bar. The door opens, the building's alarms sound, and the chaos is complete.

This is worst case scenario.

Most of the time, a newly shifted wolf won't even know it has happened. They'll exhaust themselves in the first shift and sleep until they've taken their human forms again. Apparently, my mate has more energy than most.

I drop the meat and give chase, but she's already gone. I've lost my mate.

I should never have given into instinct in my office. I should have taken her to Denholm and mated with her there. If I could have just controlled myself, this would not be happening.

She's loose in the fucking city.

She could be hit by a car. She could be attacking somebody, driven mad by prey lust.

I sprint after her as fast as I can, hating how restrained I am by human flesh. If I could take my wolf form, I'd be able to track her down in an instant. In my human form, I can still smell her trail, but not as strongly as I'd be able to.

More likely than not, in very short order I will be able to find her by following the screams.

The hunger of a new shifter is legendary. If one gets loose in a human population, casualties are pretty much guaranteed. More than one freshly shifted has been shot because she approached a human population with nothing but meat on her mind.

I shouldn't have gone out for food. I should have stayed with her and ensured she didn't wake up before I got back.

I'm running as I dial one of my best hunters.

Bardo is immediately on the line. I don't even hear the phone ring before he is answering.

"Sir?"

"Bardo, I have a runner from the apartment. Heading toward the park, I think. White wolf, champagne tips. Female."

"Not a description I recognize."

"My new mate."

There is a pause for a fraction of a moment before he responds. "Understood."

I run in the direction she went, following the increasingly faint scent. The city is a stinking, turbulent place. Every car that goes by disturbs the air, and the people rushing back and forth add their individual scents to the general melee.

There's only one merciful thing about this entire situation, and that is the fact that the smell of fresh blood and viscera is not filling the air. She must be terrified. That's the only explanation. If hunger were driving her, she wouldn't be running past all of these walking meals. She would be in a feeding frenzy.

Guilt flashes through me. I know better than this. I am the damn alpha of the Denholm pack. My job is to manage the pack, to take care of others, and to ensure that things like this don't happen. There are betas and even deltas who have managed their mate's first shift better than this.

I think I see a flash of white-ish fur every now and then, but it always turns out to be a shopping bag or a coat, or some other piece of human clutter that is only serving to separate me from the woman who needs me most.

I get to the park. Bardo is approaching from the north as I rush to the south. He doesn't have her scent yet, but he knows what a wolf looks like, so he has that going for him. We spot one another from a distance of several blocks, nodding briefly before we head into the wooded interior.

It's a nice day, and the park is packed. A carriage with tourists hanging out of it is being drawn down the path as I join a pack of joggers briefly at a full sprint in my work attire.

"Isn't that Cain Lupin?"

I hear my name and know that a scene is being made. Goddamnit. There will be pictures from this whole affair. There will be conspiracies as to why the hell I'm sprinting through the park. The stock will drop, or maybe rise, depending on what they decide it all means.

I don't care, as long as I get Kira back safely.

"HEY STOP! WHOSE FUCKING DOG IS THIS?"

I hear a cry in the distance, my first indication that I'm on the right track.

By the time I get to the source of the distress, I find a hot dog cart completely broken apart, ravaged by a beast with more hunger than sense.

The proprietor is furious. There are buns everywhere. Not a single hot dog has survived Kira's raid. The awning is askew, the wheel is off the cart, and I am going to have to provide adequate compensation before the day is out. Just as long as she doesn't kill anybody and nobody kills her, that's all I'm hoping for.

Kira's scent, the smell of hotdogs, and an organic sage body wash combine as I hone in on her location. She's finally stopped. I can tell that because I am picking up her trail ever more strongly with each step.

"Aw, baby. Are you hungry, sweetie? Aw poor thing. Here you go. Yes, that's a good girl! What a good girl!"

A blonde woman with big sunglasses, pink lipstick, and a t-shirt that reads Live, Laugh, Love, is letting Kira lick an ice cream from her hand.

The relief I feel is almost equal to the confusion I feel at seeing my mate, who should be absolutely maddened by bloodlust right now, engulfing sugar and fat at an astonishing rate.

"There you are!" I call out, coming to a halt next to Kira and the kindly middle-aged woman who has no idea whatsoever the service she has just done me.

"Is she yours?" The woman looks at me with a broad smile. "She's such a beautiful girl! What is she? Some kind of malamute or shepherd cross? Lab, maybe?"

This is the benefit of her having non-standard colors. She looks like a dog. Everybody who saw her on the way here must have mistaken her for a runaway. I breathe a sigh of relief on top of the sigh I already breathed.

Kira is still lapping, her eyes fixated on the ice cream. She won't care about anything besides food in this state.

"I'm sorry, I lost her collar. I mean, she slipped out of her collar," I explain.

"Oh, don't worry, I always carry a spare!" Our good Samaritan laughs and pulls a dog collar out of her cavernous, brightly colored woven bag. It is a handmade, long slip collar, but it looks like it will hold well enough.

"I'm appreciative of the help," I say as I slide the collar and leash combo over Kira's head. The odds of her walking nicely back to the apartment are low—she's not leash trained. My guess? As soon as she finishes her next treat, she'll be off for more food. I run the real risk of being dragged around this park by what everybody will consider an unruly dog.

Bardo has caught up with us. He stops at a distance, arms folded over his chest, his head cocked to the side as he takes in this scene. Bardo is what some people call a gentle giant—though I have known him to be much less than gentle.

He stands damn near seven feet high, with long dark hair and a thick beard and mustache. He has very dark brown eyes, nearly black. His expression, when it can be read, can best be described as grim. I'm sure he smiles sometimes, but it would be hard to tell beneath that dense pelt of facial hair.

He must have been working out. He's wearing gym shorts and a tight tank, and looking concerned. The most humiliating thing that can happen to a wolf is to end up on a leash, but I truly don't have a choice, and I don't think Kira actually cares. A collar seems appropriate for her.

"Come on, girl," I say. "We need to get you a proper meal."

I don't know how much Kira is able to understand right now. Some shifters maintain a great deal of their human consciousness when in their wolf form. Others are closer to basic animals, especially at first.

"Thank you," I say again as the woman moves on.

Bardo comes up, his expression solemn. "This is your mate?"

"Yes."

"She's a dilute."

He's referring to her coat color. Her pale coloration indicates her parentage is only part shifter. That is relatively common in our kind, though not in the Denholm pack. Full-blooded shifters are becoming increasingly rare, but our pack has maintained a high percentage over the years.

Bardo is looking at me with a little reproach in his gaze. He's trying to hide it, but he can't help it. I know what he is thinking. It's the same thing everybody will think. The alpha should only ever mate with a pure-blooded female from one of the four original families. The bloodlines should be kept pure and strong. These are old-fashioned beliefs I've never questioned before, but they're going to be questioned now, because this is my mate, and there is no changing that.

"I need you to get me some snacks," I say. "My mate is hungry."

Bardo nods and does as he is told. He is back in short order with an armful of snacks and treats.

"Thank you. I'll call you."

He takes that as the dismissal it is. So far, Wolf Kira has been relatively easy to handle. She is hungry, but she's not flailing at the end of the leash the way I had feared. She's sitting next to me, looking up at me, licking her lips, and panting alternately.

I feed my mate bodega chips all the way back to the apartment. It looks innocent enough to the world at large, much to my relief. This is nothing more than a walk in the park with some snacks. She licks my hand eagerly every time her mouth ceases to be full, indicating she is submitting to me, looking to me for sustenance and leadership.

"You are such a good girl," I praise her, running my hand over her head and scratching her behind the ears.

She really is very dilute. In her case, it might mean more than the mere fact that she has a lighter coat color. For Kira, it seems to mean that she has some temperament quirks that make her seem more like a domestic dog than a wild wolf. That has saved the pair of us today, but it will raise eyebrows at the next pack gathering.

I run out of treats for her just before we get back to the apartment. As we wait to cross the street, she lifts up on her hind legs and nuzzles me more firmly with her nose, lifting a paw and pulling at my arm.

"We are almost home, and I will feed you properly then," I tell her. "Sit down until then."

She stays up on her hind legs for a long moment, testing the order.

"Down," I say firmly.

She sits with a little whimper.

What a good girl.

Later, Kira sits nicely in the kitchen as I fry steak after steak. I was going to feed her raw, but having seen her in action, I am starting to wonder if her gut will be able to handle it. She's a bit sensitive, and that sensitivity might very well translate to her tummy.

Before I can plate her meal, she starts to whine as if she is in pain. It could be because she's consumed half the junk food in the city, or it could be because… oh the poor thing. She drops to her side and starts to writhe as her wolf form starts to slide away from her.

Staying in the animal form for long periods of time is not easy. It takes energy at first. Over time it will become something she can do, but for the moment, she is subject to the capacities of her flesh.

Shifting hurts. It is a brutal process that involves the complete transformation of blood and bone. The first transformations are the hardest. Over time, her body will adjust, but for the moment, the sight is one of mild horror as her fur falls out around her, a complete coat shedding in a matter of minutes. Her body twists and shrinks in some ways, extending in others.

I sit with her as it happens, stroking her head as her human hair flows from her scalp once more, her muzzle shortening to her cute little nose and her sweet lips. She passes out halfway through, which is a mercy.

I pick her insensate form up and settle her on the couch. She will sleep for a while now. This time I will not leave her. I may never leave her side again. I cover her up with a blanket and put a cushion under her head, wishing I could do more, even though I know there's nothing more I can do.

Kira is not the only one who has been transformed today. I started this morning as a lone wolf, but she has made me a mate. She has reoriented my world entirely.

I love her.

But love is not enough of a word for it. It completely fails to encapsulate the feeling. I feel protective to a degree I've never felt before, even as an alpha. I feel devotion. I feel fear. Fear of loss. Fear of all that could happen to her. Fear as I realize that one day, something inevitably will happen to her, or to me. I am feeling love of the kind that makes the basic machinations of the universe, the cycle of birth and death feel wrong. Deeply wrong. We should be able to live forever, she and I. We should have always been together, and we should be together for eternity.

I sit beside her, I stroke her hair and her back, and I wait for her to regain consciousness. The day turns to night ever so slowly, fading to orange and then losing color entirely to be replaced with the bright neons of the world beyond our window.

My stomach growls, and I realize I haven't eaten. I didn't feel the need to eat. My needs no longer seem to matter as long as she is safe. If I am touching her, I have everything I need.

She stirs next to me, stretches her legs, yawns in a long, slow way that no human ever yawns, and every wolf always yawns. I adore the sight of it.

Her eyes meet mine, filling with confusion as they do.

"What is happening?"

"You're safe," I tell her. It is the most important thing for her to know.

"I've been having the weirdest dream. It was so vivid. And so…" She blinks. "Where am I?"

"You're at my apartment. Well, one of them. A sort of cozy bolt-hole. Somewhere people don't think to find me."

"Just a subtle basic little place adjacent to the park," she says, mocking me just a little. I am glad to hear it. It means she's feeling better.

"Quite."

There is a problem now. Do I tell her she is a wolf? Or do I let her believe she's been dreaming all this time?

She lifts the blanket and looks down at herself, then back up at me. "Why am I naked?"

"You were tired."

Her expression becomes deeply dubious. "I don't get tired like that. I'd remember leaving the office and being naked in your apartment." She sits up and runs her hand through her messy hair, looking at me with those beautiful brown eyes that hold so much vulnerability.

"Do you remember what we did in the office?"

A faint blush appears on her cheeks. Yes.

She shakes her head. No.

A lie. Very naughty.

"I don't remember anything. Did you… I've been feeling weird all day. Uhm. I have to go."

She thinks I've drugged her. She thinks she's been tripping hard. Likely, she suspects that her near uncontrollable arousal at the office was due to this non-existent drug too. I can understand that thought process. It's a series of logical thoughts leading to a completely logical, and entirely incorrect, conclusion.

I am going to have to tell her the truth, or she will run out of here feeling violated and thinking I am a very different kind of monster than the one I am.

"You were not dreaming. You were experiencing yourself in a way you never have before."

"You mean you were experiencing me in a way…"

"No, Kira. I wasn't. You are a wolf. I am a wolf."

She just barely manages not to roll her eyes. "Of all the excuses a billionaire has made to defile a woman…"

Kira

I can't believe this guy. No wonder he has a reputation for being terrible. He fired those women because he drugged them. He drugged them, and then he had his way with them, and now I'm a victim and…

He gets up from the couch and stands before me. I don't know if he means it to or not, but the action frightens the hell out of me. He's blocking the exit. There's no way out but through him, and I am in no state to fight. I am exhausted. My head feels like it has been stuffed like a teddy bear. Every part of me aches, from my bones to my no longer virginal vagina. This is a nightmare, but there's no waking up from it.

"Kira," he says. "Look at me."

I don't want to look at him. My eyes are on the floor in an attempt to de-escalate whatever is happening.

"Look at me," he repeats.

I lift my eyes, not wanting to be in trouble.

One moment a brooding billionaire is standing over me, the next a wolf is in front of me. A massive wolf, with gleaming black and tan fur, white around the muzzle and paws. Pale blue eyes look at me with human intellect.

His clothing lies in tatters on the floor, part of it still stuck around his body. There's no denying what I just saw with my eyes, even though I do not believe what I just saw with them.

I feel myself welling up with tears as the shock of not only what I'm looking at, but realizing what has happened to me sets in.

"It wasn't a dream?"

Another transformation, and he is in front of me. "It wasn't a dream. It is who and what you are. I'm sorry it's so frightening. I should have explained it to you before it happened, but I didn't… I got carried away. I let my desire to mate you overcome what should have been a much more carefully managed occasion. I acted like an immature, reckless young wolf. You deserved better."

I don't understand what he is apologizing for entirely. It sounds like there's a whole lot of social protocol that I have no way of comprehending.

He's naked again, and that's very distracting. He's an incredible creature. His shoulders are broad, and his eyes gleam with pale intensity, rimmed with dark lashes and framed by dark brows. His body is strong and goddamn beautiful. Crouched before me, he keeps those stunning eyes at my level, looking at me with earnest care and maybe even love.

I curl up in my blanket, pulling it close, the relatively thin wool not nearly enough to protect me from the forces at play in this room. We're wolves, he said. He showed me himself. And I remember enough of the strangeness from before to know that what I experienced was real. I was a wolf too. I was a wolf who jumped out of a fire escape, tumbled down some stairs, ran across traffic and into a park where I hunted down my natural prey—sweet things.

"I don't know what to say," I whimper softly. "I don't know what to think."

"You don't have to say or think anything. You need to let yourself rest and recover. The first shift is so hard on the body. You've been through a lot. And, I suspect the transformation is harder on you than it might be on some others."

"Yours seemed so easy."

"I have been doing it for far longer, and I have… a slightly different make up."

"What does that mean?"

"It is about bloodlines," he says, somewhat vaguely. He gets to his feet, displaying his full humanity to me, and I forget all about questions.

Cain Lupin is a gorgeous, gorgeous man. His eyes are deep and soulful, and his body is fucking jacked. He ripples with every movement, dozens of muscles making for a display that makes my mouth water and my body respond in a way I've never experienced before. Forceful arousal.

My brain feels as though it is emptying itself with every breath I take, all the blood and sense rushing down between my legs.

"No," he says. "You can't be mated again this soon. Settle down."

"I didn't say anything," I say, blushing. I am confused and aroused and embarrassed and wanting. I've gone from being afraid he took advantage of me in the worst way to realizing I am in the presence of a unique creature.

"You didn't have to," he says with a smile so sexy I feel my inner walls pulsing in response. "I can feel your need, Kira. I will always know when you need me. You and I have bonded. You are my mate, and I am your mate and your alpha. You are an open book to me."

Those words, uttered in a deep, affectionate growl, run through me like warm wine. I feel faintly intoxicated and utterly charmed.

He steps toward me. I can't tear my gaze from the thick cock hanging in front of my eyes as he reaches around me and pulls the blanket more snugly around my shoulders.

"You need to keep warm," he says. "And you need to stay quiet. I am going to put some clothes on and cook for you."

"Don't."

"Don't cook for you?

I snuggle up in my blanky and give him a cheeky little smile. "Don't put clothes on."

He is heartbreakingly beautiful when he laughs. I would never have dared imagine I would be in the company of a creature this stunning, let alone be called his mate. I feel loved. It is a feeling that isn't quite familiar to me, and yet there's a nostalgia to it. It's like remembering something that never happened.

"I'm going to have to at least put on an apron," he says.

That's all he puts on.

I get the joy of curling up on a couch and watching my billionaire mate make me dinner. This is not how I anticipated my first day of proper work going. I can hardly believe any of it. There's a lot of it that I am choosing not to consider.

It makes me feel a little bit insane to even think about the wolf thing. I just saw it, and I remember my experiences, though they're getting hazier by the moment. They feel like a dream I had. This all feels like a dream I've had.

"Drink this."

Cain is suddenly by my side with a glass of water in his hand. I thought I was watching him, but I suppose I've spent rather a long time staring into space. My body is starting to ache, sort of like a flu feeling crossed with having done far too much exercise. I'm tired.

"Stay with me," he says, putting the cup to my lips and tipping it slightly so all I have to do is swallow. He also helps me out by putting his other hand behind my head, steadying me. I feel immensely cared for.

"Drink," he reminds me.

I allow the water into my mouth, swallowing to please him. My eyes are on his as this happens. I am feeling so many emotions. An otherwise naked billionaire is helping me to drink as if I am a wounded little bird, and I am feeling as small and cherished as I have ever felt.

I drink the entire glass that way, until he is satisfied that I am properly hydrated.

"Good girl," he praises me, and I wag the tail I don't have. I can feel it, this whining yearning, this absolute supplication running through my veins. I have not simply fallen for Cain Lupin. I adore him. Just looking at him feels like being on some heady drug.

I watch him as he goes back to the kitchen, and I feel yearning at even the short distance opening up between us. I want to be right next to him, pressed against him. I want to feel his hand on my head again, strong fingers scratching lightly at my scalp.

"Stay there," he says, catching my thoughts again.

"Are you reading my mind?"

"Not exactly," he says, going back to stir dinner. "It is more like I can feel your impulses. We're linked now, Kira."

"Because we had sex?"

"Because we were made for one another. We were mates before we met. That's why the attraction was so intense. But now that we've mated, and our flesh has bonded, it's stronger than ever before. It's unbreakable."

I stare as this incredibly handsome, incredibly rich, very powerful man tells me that I was made for him—and I can't believe it. Nothing in my life has ever indicated that I was special in any way, or made for anybody in particular. I always thought I was made for no reason but to generally suck and suffer, and if I ever made any progress at all, it would be out of sheer luck and would probably be taken away from me as quick as it came.

I don't tell him that, because he seems to have more than enough belief in all of this for the both of us. I sit and I stare as he serves dinner, and I try not to sound too stupid or too ungrateful or too confused as to how and why any of this is happening.

Dinner is meat and more meat. He's added some vegetables on the side, but I notice that he doesn't eat them, so nor do I.

"What exactly happened to me today?" I ask the question vaguely as I push a floret of broccoli around the plate. It feels like that question encapsulates so many others.

"You mean, why did you become a wolf today when you've spent most of your life thinking you were strange, but basically normal?"

"Yes. That."

"Have you finished dinner?"

"I guess?" I frown slightly, I don't know why he won't answer that question when he's answered so many others.

"Then it is time you went to bed," he says.

There's some impulse in me that wants to refuse, some very old childish thing that never really leaves us no matter how old we get. But now that my stomach is full, I am starting to feel truly exhausted.

"You're not going to tell me?"

"I'm going to tell you everything," he says. "But you are half-asleep, and I want you to be entirely asleep. You need your rest. There's plenty of time to explain all the intricacies. I doubt you'd take it all in now anyway."

Even if I wasn't feeling like I'd been run over by a truck, I wouldn't have the nerve to go against Cain's will. I can sense his mood, and I think maybe I understand what he means when he says he can feel my intentions. I can feel his as well. Right now, for instance, there is a silent response to my little rebellious feeling. He arches a brow at me ever so slightly and crooks a finger.

I get that tingling feeling in my lower belly and between my legs again as I get up to do as I am told. Moving feels quite terrible. I ate dinner with the blanket wrapped around me, and I take the pseudo-garment with me as I follow him back to a bedroom.