“It’s okay,” I soothed him, reaching up to take his face in my hands. “Whatever it is, whoever you are, I’ll help you. I’ll find out where you belong, I promise. You’re on L’Ange, and it’s a sanctuary, so you’ll be safe until I can––”
His mouth cut off the rest of my promise as he kissed me again, ravenously, mauling, hands on my belt, unbuckling quickly and then yanking on the cuff of my jeans.
I tried to help him, but he captured both of my wrists in one hand and held them pinned over my head. When I arched up off the fur, trying to get closer to him, I saw him lick his lips in anticipation before his heated gaze met mine.
He wanted me, badly, and my mewl of yearning brought up a growl from the back of his throat. Clearly, he liked having me under his power.
I was ready, lost in the promise of being taken, so I wasn’t at all prepared for the surge of fear that lanced through me a second later.
It was instant and terrifying, and I screamed as I twisted violently out from under him, needing him off me and away. Even as I knew it wasn’t my fear but his, somehow transferred to me, I also knew I couldn’t defend him if I wasn’t ready, and I knew something was there, close, that could hurt him.
I was choking for air, unable to breathe around the dread, panting as I rolled to a crouch and stared at him.
He gestured for me, wanting me back, wanting me close. And I wanted to go to him, to drop down into his arms and let him put me on my back, under him, but there was the scent again, carried on the wind, and when he caught it, he turned sharply toward the mouth of the cave.
The roar that came out of me shattered my humanity, and I was gone, clothes shredding, skin ripping, muscles tearing, bones breaking and reforming, until I was standing between the man who I knew, the moment I shifted, was my mate, and whatever emerged from the darkness.
I wanted to sing my joy to the stars, to the heavens, like a roaring river under my skin. My mate. My other half. The sun to my moon, the day to my night. The happiness made my heart swell, first with an almost manic, triumphant bliss, and then again with a bloodcurdling dread.
What was out there, ready to come in and attack?
In that moment a paw came into the light, and then a muzzle, before the rest of the enormous wolf nearly filled the entrance. The next foot I saw was booted, and then another, and then several men with guns were fanned out close to the predator. I bristled and snarled in warning, head down, ears back, teeth flashing in savage warning. I was pleased when all of them took a step back, their eyes wide, mouths open, the scent of their distress intoxicating. Even the wolf retreated, watching me with wary eyes.
A scent every shifter knew then, that of an alpha, and I tracked him as he slowly entered the cave, glancing around, cautious even as his gaze settled on me.
“Tucker?” he questioned, uncertain.
The word held no meaning, no history, and he spoke it hesitantly. But as he didn’t rush forward to attack my mate, I remained frozen, silent and still. As an alpha, I knew he could hurt me, but I would spill every drop of my blood in defense of my mate. He would probably eviscerate me, but I would hurt him, maybe maim him, in the process.
I waited for what he would do next rather than diving toward him, holding my attack, though it took a herculean effort. I wanted him dead, as I did the others, choking on their own blood, but I would not leave my mate unprotected.
“Tucker,” the alpha repeated, taking a step closer.
I growled deep and low, the warning clear, my intention absolute. One step closer and I’d be on him.
My mate moved up behind me, but when he tried to come around me, I crowded close, keeping myself between him and the threat. When he buried his hands in my fur, the distraction nearly undid me, and I couldn’t stifle the whimper of yearning. I was an animal, and I was desperate for the rutting I knew would be mine if the others would go. His scent told me he was drenched in arousal, and I was aching with a shivering, almost painful drive to be claimed.
The alpha did an odd thing then and went to his knees, settling back onto his haunches, hands on his thighs. As though on cue, the men filed out as the wolf sat near him, and two others came in and mirrored his movement and position.
“Come to me,” the alpha ordered, and even as I felt his power brush over my muzzle, slide over my fur like another jackal rubbing up against me as it passed, I answered him with a rumble of menace.
His eyes narrowed, and he turned to one of the men.
“Riddari,” my mate crooned from behind me, hands stroking over my head and neck before he bent and pressed his face near my ear.
“Riddari,” the gray-haired man repeated, his voice rising in clear surprise, lifting his hand when the others tried to speak to him before putting it quickly over his heart. “Vinr.”
I turned because I needed to see my mate, and he straightened up, his hands falling away from me, mirroring the man instead, his hand over his heart as well. There were words then, none of which I’d ever heard before, and they came from my mate’s throat in a stream. When I checked, the other man swayed dangerously, like he might fall or faint, and the one next to him grabbed his shoulder to hold him upright.
“Quade,” the gray-haired man whispered, and the alpha turned to him. “This man, I… I think… no, I know,” he gasped, “he’s the deigh.”
“The what?”
The man choked on his words. “He’s a dorcha, a black deer, and I think he’s the last one, the only one… which makes everything that’s been happening—he’s the deigh.”
“I don’t––”
“Wait,” he ordered, looking back to my mate before he spoke again. I could tell, from the inflection of the words, that a question was asked.
My mate took a step back then, removed the iron penannular brooch from his shoulder and dropped it to the dirt floor of the cave. His unbuttoned shirt, which showed off his wide, muscular chest, slipped off his shoulders and landed at his feet. He then bent and pulled off first one boot and then the other. When his hand went to the lacing on his pants, I growled.
He said something to me, and I saw the heat in his eyes as he smiled before he unlaced them. His beautiful long, thick uncut cock was semi-hard, arching from a thatch of black hair, but I had only a moment to admire the sight before he took a step forward and was the elk I had seen however many days before.
I had never seen a shift like that, so smooth and seamless. It was like a gust of air passed over his hair, ruffling it, and when it smoothed, fell, he was a wholly different creature.
“This is why all the princes are here.” The gray-haired man huffed out a breath with his statement. “It makes sense now. All of it.”
My mate lifted his hoof and pawed the ground, throwing up a small cascade of hard-packed dirt and a cloud of dust, and then dropped his head as though he were bowing. It wasn’t to the alpha, though, or to the gray-haired man, but to me. He took a step forward and raised his head just high enough that as I moved in, without hesitation, I touched my nose to his.
“Oh dear God,” the alpha whispered roughly.
Turning, I saw the men staring at us; no one had moved from the resting position that mirrored their alpha, though the wolf was gone. I could still smell him close.
“Speak to me,” the alpha ordered.
When I turned to look at my mate, he nuzzled my ear with his nose, which let me know the fear that had been there moments before was now gone.