Page 56 of Fated to the Feral Wolf

A few drops of water escaped his damp hair and skated down his broad, flat pectoral muscles, over his abs, and finally across that mind-meltingly-hot V of muscle that disappeared into his towel. I traced its path with my eyes, swallowing hard when I noticed the bulge hiding behind that one little towel. In my mind, I was already ripping it off him even as he cleared his throat.

“As much as I like where your head is at, I’m pretty sure that if we get all up in each other’s business, we have to start the purification instructions over again.” He grinned salaciously as he rubbed a hand over his damp hair. “But I’m game if you are.”

“No, no. We need to be there for Bri. Absolutely.” I bit my lip as he reached for the towel, and forced myself to spin and look the other way. Otherwise, I couldn’t be responsible for making it to the purification ritual on time, and I wanted to be by Brielle’s side as she found out what her omega gifts were under the moon tonight.

After that?

All bets were off. Just knowing he was naked on the other side of the room had me soaking my panties, and I had a feeling the longer we spent together—in that big, fluffy, king-sized bed, no less—the hotter things would get.

I kept myself busy examining the wall in front of me as the sounds of the towel dropping and a hairbrush pulling through his wet hair tormented me. But it wasn’t until my eyes landed on the wall mirror, and his bare ass in it, that my jaw dropped.

Goddess, I was lucky. It was insanely unfair that he’d lived as a wolf for years and yet had a perfect, unbroken tan over a thickly muscled back and perfect, bitable ass. And dream us really hadn’t even scratched the surface yet.

My temperature ratcheted up what felt like another hundred degrees as I quickly glanced away, not feeling right ogling him without his knowledge.

Granted, based on that cocky grin he’d given me, I didn’t think he would mind. But if I kept staring, I was going to want to start touching.

Later, you thirsty bitch.I scolded myself and tried to think unsexy thoughts.

By the time he was done getting dressed, I was mostly back under control. But the knowing look—and the very obvious sniff of my neck before we walked out the door—told me he knew exactly how aroused he had me, without even lifting a finger.

Damn him.

Purification ceremonies soundedbad and a little bit cult-esque, but in actuality, it was almost like a free trip to a spa. We’d been sent to a natural hot spring sauna to steam, covered in mud, scraped clean of mud, and plunged into a deep, icy stream—that part was more suck than spa—before being put back into our linen clothing.

Now we’d all been sent out of the cave and into the forest, where we were deposited under a large spruce tree to meditate until the moon was at its zenith.

I didn’t put much stock in meditation, frankly, but it gave me time to mentally work on a new composition, which I hadn’t had the time for since… well, since Texas. The notes started slow and languid, soft and supple, before building into a heart-racing crescendo and crashing again.

The moon climbed across the sky as I played it over and over inside my head, tweaking it with each pass, adding more depth and heat. But it wasn’t until the bear attendant came for us—in full shift, no less, so he towered over even the tallest of us—that I realized it was the feeling of falling in love with Dirge that I was composing. Every up and down, every sweet sigh and heart-pounding touch, represented by notes floating in my mind.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to share it with anybody but him.

We followed the lumbering golden-brown bear through the forest to the edge of a stream. The water was a silver ribbon undulating in the moonlight as it flowed steadily through the banks.

Jada stood at the edge, her bare feet in the stream and her own pure-white linen dress draped over her imposing frame. Her hair was tucked underneath some kind of ceremonial scarf, thick smudges of something green painted over the bridge ofher nose and down the center of her lips. Her mates were all shifted, and nerves shimmered in my belly. If they made us all shift, Bri would faint. Would the ceremony still work?

I cast a nervous glance her way, and she looked apprehensive as well. Kane hovered at her shoulder, ever protective even though he was careful not to touch her and risk breaking the cleansing rules.

We stopped a few feet from the bear priestess, and her voice rang out through the clearing as her eyes fixed on Brielle. “Step forth!”

Bri hesitated only for a moment, pulling in a deep, steadying breath before holding her head high and walking into the stream at Jada’s side.

Jada began to sway on her feet, circling around Brielle as she danced to a slow, undulating rhythm none of us could hear. As we watched, the moonlight seemed to intensify, and I started to itch. So entranced was I that I almost didn’t notice as the shift washed over me.

But sure enough, within moments, I was watching it all through my keener wolf’s eyes, and I could feel Dirge’s presence at my side. He leaned his shoulder into mine, the wolf wholly unconcerned by human ideals of purity. Contact was pure, was love. And I really felt it as we stood there shoulder to shoulder, supporting our pack, our family.

More surprising than that, though, was that once I was in wolf form, I could hear the softest strains of music. Was it the wind? Was it something else? I didn’t know, but it was beautiful. The notes were high and clear and pure, and I was overcome with the urge to howl, to join in the music.

So I did, lending my own voice to the beauty of it. One by one, the rest of our pack joined the song as Jada’s movements grew faster and the moonlight seemed to intensify, a strong beam of light making Brielle’s dark hair shine like she wasMoon Goddess touched. The light expanded, bathing her in silver light.

It felt like the world froze, like I felt the pulse of nature, and then the light shot out, swallowing us all.

The light left me blinking as it faded, and when my vision cleared, I was shocked to see Brielle standing in wolf form, drenched as if she’d been dunked in the stream. But more surprising than that were the sparkling silver sigils carved into the stream bank.

They weren’t in any language I knew, but Jada stood over them, studying them intently.

We all stared in silence, as if the fate of the world hinged on whatever Jada would say next.

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