Chapter 20: Lottie

Now, I know I said I wouldn't go for a run in the forest alone tonight, but that doesn't mean I can't go on a walk to visit with my favorite wolf. I've taken this path on several occasions and know well enough by now not to get lost. With Sinatra at my side, I doubt any other predators will attempt to approach me.

Slipping on my cashmere sweater and scooping up my Polaroid and guitar, I make my way into the woods. The sun is still out for at least another hour or two, so there is plenty of time to go for a walk and return before dark.

The walk to the meadow takes ten minutes at a brisk pace. When I arrive, Sinatra is already there waiting for me. He sits in the center of the circle of late afternoon sunlight, ears perked and eyes focused. As soon as I step over the threshold into the clearing, his tongue lulls out of his mouth, and he stands to greet me.

Rubbing his head and neck against my hand, arm, side, back, and finally, chest. Seemingly assuring himself of my presence. Scratching his neck and head, I praise the beautiful animal and giggle at his antics. He's like a giant cuddly dog greeting his owner when they return home from work.

My heart lightens, and that comforting feeling of peace the wolf always brings washes through me, and I forget that Hunter rejected my offer earlier today.

"You are such a good boy, aren't you, Sinatra. My sweet boy. You always want to spend time with me, don't you?"

Sinatra bounces on his front paws in agreement. His black fur glistening in the sunlight, ice blue eyes glinting. Whoever says animals don't have personalities never had a pet. Because this wolf has such an obvious personality. Protective, friendly, cuddly, sweet and thoughtful.

"That's what I thought. Although I don't blame him for his work. He is the mayor, after all. That has to be a demanding job. Or at least I would think so. I don't really know what a mayor does, but I'm sure it's important."

Sinatra follows me to the soft, mossy grass area I usually sit in and circles me until I settle. Plopping his massive furry body down so close to me, he almost knocks me over.

Laughing, I push at Sinatra's black fur body, trying to give myself a little space.

"Scoot back, Sinatra. I need a little room. Especially if you want me to play for you again."

He doesn't move back but lets me scoot forward to get comfortable.

"What should I play today?" I ask my wolf. "The Eagles? Fleetwood Mac? Elvis? Sinatra?"

Sinatra doesn't respond to any of the artists, so I choose one for us: Witchy Woman by the Eagles . I strum through the chords at a leisurely pace, letting my eased mind control the speed and style of the song.

Sinatra sits watching me, and halfway through the song, he lowers his head to his paws at my side, ensuring the side of his snout presses against my thigh, keeping me warm and cozy.

When the song is over, I mindlessly play random songs and chords that drift in and out of my mind.

"Have you ever met Hunter, Sinatra? He lives in a house not too far from here."

I look down at the wolf, who is watching me closely, listening intently. So, I continue.

"He's the mayor of the town. I'm sure you've seen him. His family seems to know you pretty well, so I'm sure you have." I pause, thinking about Hunter and his restrained smile and baby blues, his dark hair that's almost as black as Sinatra's fur.

"I think I may have a crush on him," I admit. "There's something about him that's . . . alluring. I feel drawn to him. Especially when he speaks, and growls."

Sinatra nuzzles his nose against my hand because I stopped playing, and I laugh, picking back up on my incoherent strumming.

"The deep gravel of his voice sends tingles through me in a way that makes me all . . ." I huff out a shaky breath, "well, horny."

Sinatra's head perks up, and I swear he's staring at me in shock like he knows what I said. My face flushes, and I giggle, embarrassed to admit such a thing to a wolf.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm sure there are lady wolves that get you all hot and bothered. It's natural. But with Hunter, it feels more than just natural. It feels deeper. I don't know how to explain it. I just know when I look into his eyes and hear his voice... And don't get me started on the way he smells."

The wolf cocks his head at me in question.

"He doesn't smell bad. Actually, he smells divine."

Just remembering the sound of his deep voice and the smell of his intoxicating scent goes straight to my clit, and my nipples peak under my sweater. I have to rub my thighs together to ease the sensations growing there.

Sinatra leans closer to me as I cuddle down into his fur. Forgetting the guitar in my hands and halting my playing.

"I don't know what to do about it, Sinatra. He seems interested but denies himself. I know he's a good man. A bit protective. I've had plenty of guards in my life who were protective, but something about him is more possessive. More personal.

"He's also very confusing, but sweet. His family is amazing. Spending time with them last week had me realizing what I've missed out on with my own family ever since my dad died."

My mood drops from horny to sad, thinking of my dad always does that. We missed out on so much together. Who knows what my life would have looked like if he were alive. I probably wouldn't have become Alexandria.

Sensing my shift in mood, Sinatra lifts up on his front paws and begins nosing at my cheek and neck, licking and tickling me. My guitar is pushed to the side as I wrestle with Sinatra, laughing hysterically and trying to get him to stop. His wet nose and fine fur only add to my torment.

The wolf stands over me as I lay flat on my back laughing, when he stops abruptly. Planting his four paws on the ground around me, he stands over me like a shield, caging me in. His head goes straight up, matching his ears. His pink tongue pulls back inside his mouth as his nose twitches, sniffing the wind. A small growl begins to rumble in his chest just above me, and I can see his lips pull back, exposing wicked, sharp fangs.

Sinatra is focused on something in the darkened bushes that I can't see from my position on the ground. But when I try to stand, Sinatra positions his body to stop me.

That growl that began quietly now rumbles loudly, but that's not all that's loud in the meadow. I hear snapping and cracking, and then I see the impossible.

The wolf standing over me appears to be growing .

I don't believe it at first, but in the next moments or minutes, I don't know how long, there no longer stands a wolf but a beast. A giant creature that resembles a wolf but towers over even the tallest human I've ever met. His hind legs are tall and powerful, and his front paws become fingered hands with razor-sharp claws. A mixture of man and beast that is extremely angry. Thankfully, it doesn't seem to be aimed at me, but that doesn't stop the ear-piercing shriek that wrenches itself free from my lungs.

I scramble, trying to put as much distance between myself and the beast.

"Holy fucking shit! What the actual fuck?"

Curses slip free unhindered as I freak the fuck out. What the hell am I looking at? Is this creature Sinatra? The beast retains my cuddly wolf's black fur and ice-blue eyes but none of the sweet demeanor and playful personality.

Scuttling back on my ass and all fours like a crab, I manage to get a few feet away before the beast leaps forward at the bushes he's been eyeing. He doesn't break through the greenery to take chase of whatever was there. Only stopping once he reaches the very edge, growling and snarling and howling at whatever is pissing him off.

My heart beats fast and hard in my chest, causing me to freeze in fear. Again, I'm faced with the option of fight or flight, and again, my body reacts with motionlessness.

Come on, Lottie, get the fuck up before it turns around and sets its sights on you.

I don't move fast enough, and the beast turns to face me as I reach for my guitar to use as a weapon if I must. It breaks my heart to ruin such a beautiful instrument, but my life is more valuable. I'm not completely stupid.

I scramble into a shaky standing position, brandishing my guitar like a bat.

"Stay back. I swear I will bash your head in if I have to."

The beast doesn't listen and slowly lurches forward on his massive back paws. But speed doesn't matter with his size. He's no longer snarling or aggressively exposing his teeth. Blue eyes lose their bloodthirsty glint, replaced with concern.

Concern? This beast is concerned? I must be losing my mind. Spending too much time with Sinatra, thinking this creature is concerned with my emotional state.

But his clawed hands lower into a position I would expect a human to make to a cornered animal, trying to soothe it. The menacing growl settles into a quiet growling purr—a sound far too comforting and reassuring to be coming from such a creature—and it almost lulls me to lower my makeshift weapon as the beast steps closer.

"No!" I scream swinging my guitar at the beast's head. "Don't come any closer."

It growls. I growl. I swing the guitar wildly unseeing, and the growl turns into a voice.

"Stop, Lottie! It's me. It's Hunter."

Immediately I stop my frantic swinging to see Hunter standing before me. Or almost Hunter. His body is disproportioned—too tall and hairy, his nails like claws, and I see his knees snap forward, forming human legs from the double-jointed legs the beast had.

"What the fuck?"

Was the beast Hunter? Was Sinatra the beast? Would that make Sinatra Hunter? I am so fucking confused right now.

"What the hell are you? Were you that thing just now?" I scream at the—yup, completely naked Hunter.

Holy fucking shit. Hunter is naked, and goddamn, is he gorgeous. Ripping muscles flex and tighten across his chest and defined abdomen, and lower his . . . wow. That is his cock. Yup. Large and stiffening cock. Fuck.

I look away from his groin, trying to refocus on the important issue at hand. A beast just shifted into Hunter, right in front of my eyes.

Hunter ignores his nudity and my staring, keeping his hands lifted and palms up as he approaches me.

"Please put down the guitar, Nightingale. I know how much you love it, and I don't want you to ruin it," he says in soothing deep tones.

It's then I realize I'm still holding my guitar over my head ready to bash it into him. I lower it to my side, and Hunter reaches out to pry it from my clenching fingers.

"That's it, just relax," he coos.

"Relax? How can I relax after what I just saw?" My voice is high-pitched and scratchy from screaming.

"If you calm down, I can explain."

"Explain?" I shriek. "This better be one good fucking explanation because that was completely fucked up."

Hunter nods slowly. His expression shifts from pensively worried to a calm resolute.

"Yes, I can see how you would think that. I didn't mean to shift in front of you, but . . . there was a threat I couldn't ignore."

I have no idea what he's talking about, but I latch on and roll with it.

"Shift? As in, you changed from Sinatra to the Beast?"

"Yes," he admits, drawing out the word. "Then into my human form."

He gestures to himself with his free hand, not holding my guitar, and I reflexively look down and get another eyeful of his massive package that doesn't seem to be shy in the least. I quickly avert my gaze again because looking at his cock has me thinking all kinds of inappropriate things.

"I don't understand," I say, a bit calmer now but still just as bewildered.

"I know. I'll tell you everything, but not here." Hunter looks around behind me as if checking for threats.

Is he checking for threats? He said something about a threat he couldn't ignore.

"Why don't we go back to the cabin and sit down? You can ask me all the questions you want, and I'll answer them. Okay?"

He gives me a sheepish smile, and those damn baby blues lure me in and have me nodding my head, agreeing.

"Here," he extends my guitar out to me. "Take this. I need to shift to walk to the cabin."

Accepting my guitar, I raise an eyebrow at him. Why does he need to shift back? And does he mean back into the giant beast? He seems to read my thoughts and chuckles.

"Unless you want me to walk back like this?" He waves a hand at his nude body again. This time I don't take the bait and check out his dick again. "It'll be easier if I'm in wolf form. I'll shift back once we get to the cabin, and I can put some pants on."

"I don't have any pants that'll fit you," I blurt out because, of course, that's the most important thing to be thinking about right now; what pants he'll be wearing.

Hunter chuckles again and shakes his head. "I keep some in the linen closet just in case."

"Oh, okay then."

I wave at him to get on with it so we can get to the cabin and I can get some answers. He shakes his head again, smiling. A smile I realize isn't restrained or tight. It's open and easy. I like it.

Oh yeah, great time to be swooning over his smile, Lottie. Pay attention.

Hunter shifts once again before my eyes, this time into Sinatra, the black wolf, instead of the massive scary beast. It's only once he's fully furry again that I don't know how I didn't see the resemblances before. Black fur, light blue eyes. Then again, I also didn't know werewolves existed five minutes ago, so yeah, there's that.

Tentatively Sinatra, or rather wolf Hunter, paces forward and nudges my limp hand with his wet nose, giving me those damn puppy dog eyes.

"Oh, don't start with that. I know who you are now. And—Shit! I just told you all that stuff about you !" I smack myself in the face and groan loudly. "I am never befriending a wild wolf in the woods ever again."

Hunter chuffs in what I assume is a laugh and turns to leave the meadow. Turning back only to yip at me when I don't immediately follow.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming. Such a demanding mutt."

Hunter jerks his wolf head back to me with a scowl and growls, ending in a whine.

"You deserve that for what you did. You're the one who lied here, not me. If anything, I was overly honest with wolf Hunter."

Wolf Hunter whines again but continues on his path back towards the cabin. I pick up my discarded Polaroid camera, slipping it and my guitar strap across my chest, following in step behind a fucking werewolf.