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Authors: Lorie O'Clare
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But now he was here. And she’d be damned if she
let him slip through her paws again. Somehow she needed to snag the werewolf.
“Hungry?” her sire asked, winking at her as he stood in front of the grill, smelling
of smoke and cooked meat.
Ali grabbed two plates, glancing over at Stone who still talked with a group of
werewolves in the middle of the yard.
“Making my plate?” Mickey had managed to sneak up behind her.
“Hardly.” She turned away from him, holding the plates out to her sire so he could
put meat on them. “Make one of them the blackened steaks raw.”
“Who is the plate for?” Her sire obliged, plopping two large steaks onto the plates.
“One is for Stone McAllister.” She waited for his reaction.
Her sire squinted through the dark yard until he focused on the twins. As if aware
he’d been made the object of attention, Stone looked their way. In the dark she swore
his blue eyes glowed. He didn’t smile, but kept his gaze focused on her sire, as if
waiting for judgment to be passed.
“How do you know him?” She smelled the protector coming out in her sire.
“I met him at the tavern, papa. He’s a good werewolf.”
Her sire grunted. “Take him his plate and then go help your mother.”
Her mother didn’t need any help. And Ali had no desire to hang out with the
bitches, listening to them chatter about cubs and their mates. She wouldn’t argue with
her sire though. It would get her nowhere.
She balanced the two plates, grabbed silverware, and then took a deep breath. Stone
had turned his attention back to the group of werewolves around him. Darkness offered
some protection, although she knew more than one curious set of eyes watched her as
she took the plate to him.
Someone announced a group run, grabbing everyone’s attention in the yard just as
she reached Stone.
“Just the way you like it,” she whispered, nudging his arm as the others
surrounding him turned to holler back in agreement that a run sounded perfect.
“Yes. It is,” he said, looking down at her as he took the plate. “Did you lose the
prick?”
Ali smiled, enjoying how he didn’t want other werewolves around her. “He’d get
lost chasing his tail,” she told him, which brought out that crooked smile that she’d
dreamed about way too many times.
“He seems to know you fairly well. Obviously he doesn’t get lost following you
around.” Stone’s brooding stare bored right though her.
Heat swarmed through her so that she could hardly breathe. When she gulped in a
breath of air, it tasted like Stone.
“I was born in this pack. We grew up together. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Do I look worried?”
No. He looked anything but worried.
“Then you’ll run with me tonight?” Her stomach twisted in knots at her boldness.
She had to be with him though. And just thinking about stripping under the stars
with him at her side brought her insides to a boiling point. Her pussy throbbed as her
gaze dropped, taking him in. More Cariboo than should be legal.
Stone laughed. “Your sire isn’t going to let you run with me.”
Her heart started pounding in her chest. Need rushed through her with enough
fierceness that she couldn’t think. One thing mattered. She had to be with him—and
soon.
“Meet me behind the tavern at one.” She bit her lip until it hurt, not daring to look
away as he stared down at her.
“The run won’t be over by one,” he told her, although she smelled lust begin to
swarm around him.
She drank in his scent like a starving werewolf. Not even the smell of the steaks
between them drowned out the thick, rich smell of his sexuality. If the yard weren’t so
full of werewolves, she would dare to reach out, run her hand over his shaft. It had to
be hard as a rock.
“Meet me there,” she repeated, gripping her plate
let him slip through her paws again. Somehow she needed to snag the werewolf.
“Hungry?” her sire asked, winking at her as he stood in front of the grill, smelling
of smoke and cooked meat.
Ali grabbed two plates, glancing over at Stone who still talked with a group of
werewolves in the middle of the yard.
“Making my plate?” Mickey had managed to sneak up behind her.
“Hardly.” She turned away from him, holding the plates out to her sire so he could
put meat on them. “Make one of them the blackened steaks raw.”
“Who is the plate for?” Her sire obliged, plopping two large steaks onto the plates.
“One is for Stone McAllister.” She waited for his reaction.
Her sire squinted through the dark yard until he focused on the twins. As if aware
he’d been made the object of attention, Stone looked their way. In the dark she swore
his blue eyes glowed. He didn’t smile, but kept his gaze focused on her sire, as if
waiting for judgment to be passed.
“How do you know him?” She smelled the protector coming out in her sire.
“I met him at the tavern, papa. He’s a good werewolf.”
Her sire grunted. “Take him his plate and then go help your mother.”
Her mother didn’t need any help. And Ali had no desire to hang out with the
bitches, listening to them chatter about cubs and their mates. She wouldn’t argue with
her sire though. It would get her nowhere.
She balanced the two plates, grabbed silverware, and then took a deep breath. Stone
had turned his attention back to the group of werewolves around him. Darkness offered
some protection, although she knew more than one curious set of eyes watched her as
she took the plate to him.
Someone announced a group run, grabbing everyone’s attention in the yard just as
she reached Stone.
“Just the way you like it,” she whispered, nudging his arm as the others
surrounding him turned to holler back in agreement that a run sounded perfect.
“Yes. It is,” he said, looking down at her as he took the plate. “Did you lose the
prick?”
Ali smiled, enjoying how he didn’t want other werewolves around her. “He’d get
lost chasing his tail,” she told him, which brought out that crooked smile that she’d
dreamed about way too many times.
“He seems to know you fairly well. Obviously he doesn’t get lost following you
around.” Stone’s brooding stare bored right though her.
Heat swarmed through her so that she could hardly breathe. When she gulped in a
breath of air, it tasted like Stone.
“I was born in this pack. We grew up together. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Do I look worried?”
No. He looked anything but worried.
“Then you’ll run with me tonight?” Her stomach twisted in knots at her boldness.
She had to be with him though. And just thinking about stripping under the stars
with him at her side brought her insides to a boiling point. Her pussy throbbed as her
gaze dropped, taking him in. More Cariboo than should be legal.
Stone laughed. “Your sire isn’t going to let you run with me.”
Her heart started pounding in her chest. Need rushed through her with enough
fierceness that she couldn’t think. One thing mattered. She had to be with him—and
soon.
“Meet me behind the tavern at one.” She bit her lip until it hurt, not daring to look
away as he stared down at her.
“The run won’t be over by one,” he told her, although she smelled lust begin to
swarm around him.
She drank in his scent like a starving werewolf. Not even the smell of the steaks
between them drowned out the thick, rich smell of his sexuality. If the yard weren’t so
full of werewolves, she would dare to reach out, run her hand over his shaft. It had to
be hard as a rock.
“Meet me there,” she repeated, gripping her plate
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