Page 83 of Wanted

“Chance, Chance, Chance!” Emery chants as her orgasm overtakes her. Her pussy walls clamp around my dick, squeezing and milking me for my orgasm.

My body follows suit and I fill Emery with my seed.

Silently, I make a wish to Mother Moon that my seed will one day impregnate her. But that can’t happen unless Emery fully embraces her wolf, when the time comes.

As I wrap my hands around her, I wish like hell that the wolf inside of her finds its way to the surface. Not only is my wolf ready to claim her, but I know our future can’t be until we’re truly mated.

That can only happen once she’s truly embraced her full self, wolf included.

CHAPTER 23

Emery

“Will it hurt?” I ask Chance as I peer up at him with my chin planted on his chest. Half of my body remains splayed across his as we lay on the surprisingly comfortable carpet of his living room floor.

I’m dressed in nothing but his T-shirt while he wears a pair of white boxer briefs.

His eyebrows dip into the shape of a V.

“If I shift,” I clarify. “You said there’s a chance I won’t survive.” I swallow the lump of fear that forms in my throat at that prospect. “Even if I do survive?—”

“You will,” his voice cracks through the air, sharp and thunderous. As if he’s demanding that the wolf goddess his pack refers to as ‘Mother Moon’ knows there’s no other option.

“Right,” I say not because I necessarily even believe I’m a wolf, but I do trust Chance’s instincts. Which means there’s a high likelihood I will shift soon.

“Still, will it hurt? You said for a wolf’s first shift, the whole pack is usually present for support because it can be painful.”

Chance’s movements are so fluid as he quickly sits up, his arm still holding me to him. He positions himself so that I’m still tucked into his body while he presses his back against the couch.

His free hand wraps around my chin, forcing me to look up at him. It’s as if he doesn’t want there to be any little bit of space between our two bodies.

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” he tells me with a promise in his deep voice.

Yet, I can’t help but think otherwise.

“What if?—”

“There’s no if,” he immediately counters. “You’re a wolf. One of us and you were meant to be mine,” he insists. “Becoming a shifter is your birthright. There’s nothing to fear. Especially with me there. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

His eyes scan mine, burying into my gaze as if he insists I believe his words.

I sit up on my knees between his legs, doing my best to ignore his half-erect cock. Despite having been intimate multiple times in one day, the last time being not more than thirty minutes ago, it’s like he’s ready to go again.

The thought alone makes me squirm a bit as I sit on my heels.

I push my wayward thoughts aside.

“But yesterday, over breakfast, I overheard one of the women saying that they’ve never heard of a wolf shifting at my age and surviving.”

“Who said that?” he insists.

I shake my head. “That’s not important. What I’m trying to ask is how much is known about someone my age undergoing their first shift? Isn’t it dangerous?”

Since being here in the commune, I’ve learned many facts about the lives of wolf shifters. Most, typically, have their first shift between the ages of nine and thirteen. A few late bloomers may shift as late as fourteen or fifteen.

But I’m a woman in my midtwenties. More than ten years passed when I should’ve had my first shift. What if something goes wrong?

“Nothing will happen to you,” Chance answers, making me realize I’ve stated my doubts out loud.

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