Page 44 of Protector

Of course, for his sake, we pretended that we couldn’t. And if Fallon tried to wheedle Tristan to get him to tell her what he was doing, I shut that shit down before Lucas even had a chance.

They’re friends. I’m glad they are. But if Fallon needs a lesson in just how possessive a she-wolf can be over her intended, it’s probably better that she gets it from me instead of, like, Jade. The other female hasn’t returned back to Winter Creek with her mate just yet, but when she does, Fallon will know better than to turn her charms on him.

Or, as the sensual Fallon calls it, being ‘friendly’...

He told her about it. Of course he did; in my experience, very few people can resist Fallon when she sets her mind to something. But he told Lucas, too, and probably the rest of the pack because even stone-faced Kirk cracked a grin at dinner last night before Tristan took my hand, led me to his room—our room—and showed me the newest piece of hand-carved furniture inside of it.

My mate wanted me to like it. It took me a second—and seeing my name—to realize that the gift, like all the breakfasts, lunch, and dinners that Tristan cooked for only me, was a mating gift.

Because, like me, he thinks of us as mates. And for all my stubborn nature, protecting myself the same time as I tried to protect him, the Beta has no intention to ever push me away again.

For three months, I gave him the chance to change his mind. To realize that a broken, Luna-touched she-wolf with a dark side and a taste for blood and a secret need to be protected by her male isn’t the sort of mate my golden beta wants… but in every way he can, he’s more than made up for our disastrous first meeting and the misunderstanding after the cave.

The Luna only recently went back on-line, letting me know that, if one of the other reasons I was taking my time in making Tristan mine was because of my position as her guardian, I could take as long as I wanted before she’d call on me for another assignment.

For the first time in my life, it’s actually mine. I’m not sharing it with Lorelei. It’s not devoted to keeping Fallon Witt alive so she can do what she was born to do. It belongs to me… and I want to give it—and my heart—to my mate.

And as the Luna rises high in the night sky, my goddess murmuring her well-wishes to me because she’s long given Tristan and me her blessing, I tear through the trees in my fur, knowing that he’s going to catch me before long.

I’m planning on it.

All those wildflowers I enjoy in the daylight are tattered and torn, scattered everywhere, their stems bent beneath my thunderous paws. My wolf’s ears are arrowed back, the force of my speed causing my muzzle to ripple a little, revealing my fangs. Even my tail is more of a straight line behind me instead of dangling there uselessly.

I’m flying, but if I’m being honest, I could probably run a little bit faster. But since I want to give my mate a chase but not actually outrun him, I keep this pace, knowing that he’s out there somewhere. The protector’s protector, if anything triggers my danger sense, he’ll be there to back me up in a heartbeat.

I haven’t had a single tingle or a twitch in months. And maybe that’s because I’ve let down my guard enough to let Tristan have my back, but it doesn’t matter. With Eleanor and Kirk having the pack house to themselves this full moon, and Fallon and Lucas heading out to enjoy each other in the Alpha’s cabin on the other side of the woods from where I’m waiting for my mate to catch me, it’s just me, Tristan, the birds in the trees, the Luna and the stars in the sky, and sense of anticipation and need on the spring breeze.

Wild wolves love to ambush their prey. I know that, just like I know that wolf shifters carry that instinct inside of them. Right now, I’m Tristan’s prey. Already looking forward to what’s going to happen tonight, I forgot that for a moment.

And then, with the sudden scent of sea spray and mist, earth and sage washing over me, I realize that he did just what I should’ve expected him to do: looping around one grove of trees, he managed to not only catch up to me, but move far enough ahead that he could leap out at me from the side.

I catch the flash of golden fur and the way the Luna winks off of him a split second before gold fur becomes tanned skin, blond hair, and patch of gold pubes. He shifted, and so do I.

His arms are a cage around my naked body as we collide. My mate is careful to cushion the impact by wrapping me in his embrace as we roll a few feet over the earth, the rocks, the fallen sticks, and destroyed flowers.

Or maybe, because my mate is a practiced Beta wolf who spent decades running witches off pack land, he knew exactly what he was doing with his hit because, suddenly, I’m flat on my belly, his weight is on my back, keeping me against the ground. Then, to make sure I don’t go anywhere, he stretches his arms over his head, lacing his fingers in mine.

Our hands connected, the heat of his sculpted chest searing my naked back, I dig my chin into the mud and arch my ass into his groin just so he knows that, yeah, he won—but it’s my turn to get everything I ever wanted.

And that starts with making Tristan Crowder my forever mate.

He’s already hard; I’d expected that, and it only makes me more eager to have him inside of me as soon as possible. His constant state of arousal around me is one of the first things I learned about my mate after we started over. Everything about me turns him on—because, one thing for sure, an instant physical attraction has never been an issue for us—but he’s still a shifter. Despite knowing that I’m a fierce fucking predator, that I need to be to serve as the Luna’s guardian, he loves it when I’m his own personal prey.

My pretty boy mate loves to run. He loves to chase. Male shifters know that, if they catch their female, they’ve earned to right to rut. To mate. To fuck.

I could throw him off. With the right twist to my naked body, I could throw him off of me before he could get his cock inside of me, pinning me down on the ground at his mercy. But because this is my mate and we both knew that tonight would end with another bite on my neck and maybe a slash mark across his chest so that I can show the whole Luna-damned world that I own his heart, I don’t do anything but bare my throat and whimper, “Please.”

His chuckle is husky and hot against the shell of my ear. “You’ve gotta be a little more specific than that,” he says in that teasing tone that drive me fucking wild. “Please let you up? Please let you go? Or—” Tristan nudges my entrance with the head of his cock, teasing me in a whole different way than just his tone. “Or please fuck you? Tell me. What is it you want from your male?”

I have half a mind to throw him off of me after all. Tristan… when it comes to satisfying his female, his first time might have been awkward and messy, but he’s a quick learner. He knows now that the best way to take the bite out of Jeannie Lipton is to bang it out of her. Teasing me when I so desperately crave him? It might end with me shoving him to his back and riding him to get out my aggression—or, on one memorable occasion, I might kick his ass out of our bed, then keep him at foot-length while forcing him to watch me pleasure myself without letting him help at all.

I thought he learned his lesson after that. Then again, this is it. This is our mating night, and maybe he wants to make this one even more memorable.

Me? I just want to make this male mine.

So I do the one thing I swore I would never do once I started fucking males on the regular: I actually beg him to do it.

“You,” I grunt out, wiggling my ass a little, trying to fill myself up with more of his erection.

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