Page 23 of Fated Wolf's Destiny

He growls again, closer now, and my wolf surges forward, driven by the thrill of the chase and the desperation to stay ahead. But as the trees thin ahead, opening into the wide expanse of the meadow, I realize I’ve run out of places to hide.

Ryder slams into me like a semi-truck of instinct and arousal. He drags me to the ground, grappling with me until I'm pinned beneath his huge bulk, growling in a way I know means he wants me to shift. Seemingly against my will, I do. Human worries like modesty or dignity are left behind. All I can do is fill my nose with the rich, musky scent of him as I reach for his body.

He won't let me, though. He grabs both of my wrists in one of his hands and pulls my arms over my head and holds them tight. My body is stretched out in the dirt, naked and glistening with sweat and slick. Ryder takes advantage of my immobility to press his nose into the crook of my neck and inhale. As he fills his lungs with my scent, he growls low, then marks the spot by the hollow of my throat with wet, open-mouthed kisses, drowning me in his own scent.

"Ryder, please..."

My sex is swollen almost to the point of being painful, and I'm too far gone to care about my dignity.

He drags the length of his cock down through the engorged lips of my labia, still pinning me to the ground with one hand. He straddles my thighs and guides his cock until the hot, velvetskin of its crown teases at my lips, making me cry out when he doesn't press in.

I buck my hips up, begging for him to ease my need. But he holds me still. He's immovable, and I can't do anything other than lay here and take whatever he gives me. I try to soothe myself with how he surrounds me: his scent, his touch, his body, all of it caging me in and holding me tight.

When he finally pushes himself into my entrance, I whimper. He's thick and long, but my body opens up to him greedily. I need to be filled. My inner muscles clench around his shaft, attempting to pull him deeper.

As he settles himself balls deep, finally, I feel whole. There's no time to adjust as he begins to thrust into me, but I don't care. I need it. The forest blurs around me as my body seems to dissolve into a wave of need and pleasure. I let myself go lax, safe in his hands.

My eyes fall closed, and nothing exists outside of the jolt of my body every time he snaps his hips against me.He groans in my ear as his cock flexes inside me. I can feel it swell and twitch—he’s getting close.

His thrusts become faster and more jarring. My body tenses, bearing down around him and holding him tight as he pulses inside me. The splash of hot seed fills me exactly where my pleasure-wracked body needs it, setting off a chain reaction of pleasure and rightness through every inch of me that makes me scream.

I wake after a restless night. I shower, dress, and head out into the clinic. My dreams were filled with images of running as a wolf through the wilderness. That wouldn’t have been so bad, but they always ended the same way… fucking with Ryder. What is it about him that seems to capture every facet of my imagination?

I’ve been scrubbing every surface for hours, trying to erase the neglect that settled here after Arthur’s death—perhaps even before. Dust still clings to the corners of the shelves, but the sunlight streaming through the windows makes the place feel alive again, like it’s breathing for the first time in months, if not years. I wonder if there were things Arthur let slide in order to pursue his investigation. Not the care of his patients—everyone in town has been very clear that he was an excellent vet—but there are parts of the clinic that seemed to have been let go.

My grandmother was a wolf-shifter and Arthur a fox-shifter. Would they have banished her if she’d fallen in love with Arthur?

Shaking my head to banish those thoughts, I step back, hands on my hips, and survey the room. It’s not perfect, but it’s better. The rows of medicine bottles are organized, the exam table gleams under the overhead light, and the waiting area doesn’t look like it belongs in a time capsule anymore.

The sound of a vehicle pulling up outside grabs my attention. Through the window, I see an old delivery van parking as its driver’s door swings open. Dorothy climbs out, balancing a tray of something covered in a checkered cloth. Her ever-present smile is firmly in place, but there’s something in her eyes—an edge that’s been there since I first arrived.

“Bella, dear!” she calls as she steps through the front door scanning the waiting room, the bell jingling above her. “Look at this place! It’s like you’ve worked a miracle.”

I smile, brushing my hands against my jeans as I meet her at the counter. “It’s coming along. Still a lot to do, but it’s becoming functional again. I don’t want to officially open yet, but if someone’s got an emergency, I want to be able to help. Spread the word for me, will you?”

She sets the tray down, pulling back the cloth to reveal a pile of pastries that smell like heaven. “Of course I will. People aregoing to be so grateful. Anyway, I figured you could use some sustenance—what with all the work you’re doing.”

“Thanks, Dorothy,” I say, meaning it. “I didn’t even realize I was hungry.”

She waves me off. “Busy hands forget about hungry stomachs. Arthur was the same way.” Her smile falters just slightly, her gaze dropping to the counter.

I pour us both cups of coffee from the pot I’ve been nursing all morning, sliding one her way. “He loved this place,” I say softly.

“That he did,” Dorothy replies, her voice taking on a wistful tone. “He put his heart and soul into it. Into this town, too. Always trying to take care of others when most wouldn’t have bothered.”

I hesitate, watching her carefully. “You mean the animals he treated?”

Her gaze flicks up to meet mine, sharp and deliberate. “Among other things.”

The weight of her words hangs between us, and my grip tightens on the coffee mug. “Dorothy,” I say cautiously, “what aren’t people saying about Arthur? Was he… in trouble?”

She sighs, shaking her head. “Truth is, I don’t know. Trouble isn’t always something you can see coming. Sometimes it’s just something you stumble into.” She takes a sip of her coffee, her eyes narrowing. “If Arthur saw something that didn’t look right, he couldn’t just look the other way.”

The cryptic tone in her voice sends a shiver down my spine. “What was he looking at?” I press.

She sets her cup down, her expression softening just slightly. “Like I said, I don’t really know. I just know he’d want you to be careful,” she says, patting my hand. “Curiosity can be a dangerous thing in a place like Shadow Hollow.”

Before I can ask more, the bell jingles again as one of the townspeople steps inside, carrying an unhappy cat in a carrier.

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