Page 8 of Fated Alpha Protector

Looking up with wide eyes, I’m shocked to find a wolf across the river. With jet-black fur, he stands imposingly and stares at me intently.

Something about the majestic black wolf is intriguing enough to instill fear in me. That fear courses down my spine, prompting me to respond to my defense. He snarls with intimidating power.

His dark eyes narrow and it’s more imposing than the glares of Blackclaw. Without a thought, I try to get to my feet. But my weak knees buckle under my weight and send me tumbling into the flowing river.

The current isn’t fierce, but I’m panicking. I haven’t swam in wolf form before. And it feels impossible with my thicker arms and paws for hands. Fighting for air, I’m startled when I feel teeth clamp onto my neck.

Suddenly, I’m pulled out of the water. Landing in a pile against a warm body of sleek fur drenched by the river water. When I open my eyelids, I meet his penetrating glare. Another trickle of fear flows through my wolf body.

I scramble to my paws, the wolf in front of me demanding my respect. Perhaps it's his aura of strength and purpose. I bow my head, eyes focusing on a stone so he knows I mean no threat.

“Who are you?” a domineering voice commands, prompting me to lift my head.

Surprised by the huskiness and pure command in that voice, I’m even more shocked when I look up. Gone is the werewolf, and in its place is a man.

One that takes my breath away when my eyes land on him. Standing there stark naked, his tanned, honey-golden skin is illuminated by the moon’s glow.

Mentally licking my lips, my eyes travel the length of him – probably six feet tall. His broad, muscular shoulders taper into rock-hard abs that contour his torso, running down into a v-line.

A line that dictates the path to the manhood between his thick thighs.

I gulp, hard. The first stirrings of arousal I’ve ever felt in my life overwhelm me while in wolf form. Frightfully looking into his face, all I see is his eyes glinting in the night.

“I asked you a question,” he speaks firmly, taking a step forward. My initial instinct is to back away.

Or so I thought.

Something about his mere presence demands that I stay rooted to the spot. Unmoving. Just marveling at his fine form.

“Shift and answer me,” he orders gutturally.

To my sudden horror, I realize I can’t do it. I can’t bring myself to shift on command. The emergence of my wolf tonight was so sudden and unannounced, it’s not like I’d invoked it on my own.

All I can do is stare at the werewolf in his human form, praying he sees the fear in my eyes. Hopefully, he’d have some kind of understanding.

But my hope is lost when he takes a step forward and his face comes into view.

“Shift,” he demands again, this time reproachfully. Sharp, bladed dark brows furrow over emerald gems that seem to glint under the moonlight. Plump, cherry-red lips furl as he growls.

The sound reverberates in my eardrums just as my airways are filled with a floral scent. The intoxication to my senses is too much all at once. My eyelids become heavy, and my surroundings fade to black.

I'm running as fast as I can in wolf form. But the ground beneath my feet sinks. I lose my footing and fall. Tumbling down, narrowly missing boulders and trees on my way down.

I fall faster than I'm capable of running. So fast, my head begins to spin. It whirls my surroundings into a vortex of flashing images, vivid colors slicing through.

I'm jolted into reality by the fall that doesn't end. Heaving for the air that seems lost to my lungs, my eyelids fly open.

I had only been dreaming.

How much of the past few hours was real, I'm not sure.

Not until I turn my face and see the man staring at me.

Metal bars separate the space between us, but his intense gaze comes through. Mesmerized by the impact of those green depths, it's like I'm called to hold his gaze.

Commanded to do so, with no other choice.

He's clothed now in a white coat that pulls taut against his arm muscles. A perfectly defined man whose mere presence elicits heat between my thighs.

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