"Do not let me in if I'm on four legs," I tell her.
She's followed me out, also dressed in a towel. It occurs to me that she could really use a change of clothes-she's been wearing my clothes or her same jean skirt and tee for three days now-and I feel like an asshole for not remedying the situation for her. A small one compared to her missing grandmother. Her eyes are wide, but she nods bravely. No surprise there. My little hacker thief, stealing million dollar paintings by age ten.
Somewhere out on the mountain, Sam howls, calling me out to run. "I have to go. Lock the door after me and don't open it. Understand?"
Another nod.
I grab her for a rough kiss, our mouths melding, tongues twining with enough heat to draw my fangs down again. It takes all my effort to pull away from her, shift, and run out into the night.
~.~
Kylie
I wake to the sound of howling right outside the cabin. The hairs on my nape stand up at the eerie cry. One wolf.
I look at the clock-four a. m. I passed out in the large, comfortable bed in what I assume was the master bedroom right after Jackson left. And now, it seems, he has returned. But he's on four legs, which means I can't let him in.
Thud. That sounded like a body being thrown at the back door. He's trying to get in. I slip out of bed and limp to the kitchen at the rear of the cabin. I'm wearing nothing but one of Jackson's T-shirts, which I found in the dresser. I peek out the window and see Jackson, in his giant silver wolf form, heaving himself at the barricaded doggy door.
The black wolf-must be Sam-appears behind him and nips at his hind quarters.
Jackson turns on the smaller wolf and attacks. The two roll on the ground, their horrible growls filling the air. It seems like more than play. Jackson's teeth snap, Sam's answering whine sounds pained.
Jackson once again runs and heaves his enormous body at the door. He seriously is trying to huff and puff this door down. The fact that he doesn't just shift and use the doorknob tells me he's incapable of it. And this is why he told me not to let him in.
A shiver runs through me that has nothing to do with the cool mountain air.
So what's Sam doing? Trying to protect me? Keep Jackson away? It would seem so, because the smaller wolf once more comes after Jackson, nipping him and running away before Jackson can bite him in return. When Jackson ignores him and goes after the door again, Sam repeats the action.
This time, Jackson moves faster, taking a bite out of Sam's flank. The wolf yips pitifully, and my hand flies to the door handle. I need to stop this before Sam gets hurt. But I'm no wolf. What do I know about stopping a wolf fight? Maybe this is just full moon play.
But no. Jackson stays on Sam, even when Sam rolls over and gives him his belly. The great silver wolf goes for his throat. I scream at the same time Sam transforms into human form.
"Jackson." The urgency in Sam's tone scares me.
Dear God, if Jackson's jaws snap on Sam's throat in human form, will it kill him? I fly out the door, needing to help.
Sam's amber gaze swivels to me, alarmed. "No!"
Jackson whirls and leaps to the steps in a single, impossible arc. His shoulder hits my waist and knocks me against the door.
"Ooph."
Sam transforms back to wolf and makes a similar graceful leap, landing on top of Jackson and throwing him off the steps. The two tussle again.
I cage my scream. Common sense tells me to run back inside the cabin and lock the door, but I can't let Sam stay out here and get hurt for me. I can't.
"Jackson!" I yell to distract him.
His head jerks up with a ferocious snarl, and he charges me once more.
Sam moves quicker, leaping through the air and landing between us. Once more, he shifts to human form, reaching for the door knob. "Get. Inside."
Jackson shifts too, and slams Sam against the wall, choking him with a forearm across Sam's windpipe. His eyes are ice-blue, eerily inhuman. "Stay. Away from her."
Sam's palms fly up in surrender. "You're... a danger," he wheezes.
For a moment, I think Jackson will kill Sam, but his eye color starts to bleed into green, and he releases Sam, who gasps and clutches at his throat. Blood drips down Sam's leg from the earlier bite.
"Sam," Jackson rasps, regret laced through the single syllable. He cradles Sam's head and leans his forehead against the younger man's. "Fuck. Thank you. I'm sorry."
"You okay?" Sam asks, which seems backwards, since he's the one who's hurt. But I know he's asking if Jackson's in control.
"Yeah." Jackson grabs my arm and spins me around, giving my ass a pop. "Get inside, female. I told you not to open that door."
Butterflies take off in my belly at the hint of punishment to come.
"You want me to stay?" Sam asks as I head inside, as told.
"No, I'm back. Thank you, brother." There's a solemnity to the way he speaks, as if he's uttering a solemn oath or vow. A shiver of recognition of their pack roles gives me gooseflesh.
Jackson steps in, his cock fully engorged, swinging as he walks. He's an incredible sight-wild, smelling of pine and dirt and the night air. His muscles bulge and shift as he stoops to throw me over his shoulder. His expression is dark. Ravenous.
"Jackson. Jackson. Are you okay?"
He carries me to the bedroom and sets me on my feet. "I don't know. You tell me. Is it okay to disobey me?" He rips the T-shirt off me in a swift tug. Wraps a fist in my hair and pulls my head back.