Page 71 of Wind with a Chance of Wolfsbane

“I am,” I returned. “Don’t get dead.”

“Ditto.” With that, she left.

The ominous feeling intensified, and the temperature in the cave decreased. Flashes of being in the cave in Romania began flooding my mind, taking my anxiety to a new level.

An eerie giggle that was familiar came from outside the cave. My chest tightened, and I shook my head in disbelief.

I heard it again, and it was followed quickly by the sound of a deep wolf growl.

The last time I’d heard that laugh and that growl had been in the forest of Romania four years ago.

Any hope I had of remaining in human form left me. Fur sprouted over my arms rushing up and over my chest and torso before going down my legs. I felt it on my face next and winced as pain filled me as my face began to morph. A second later, I caught the scent of a predator closing in on me. It wasn’t the black wolf from Romania. I remembered his scent. It was someone new.

My wolf roared within me as I struggled to break the chains, wanting free to be able to defend myself.

Unfortunately, Mina had been right. The chains were stronger and the bolts did hold.

ChapterTwenty

Jonathan

Jonathan burst into the cave,claws extended. His upper body, including his face, was shifted partially and covered in fur. He snarled, his fangs distending. The wolf wanted its pound of flesh.

He expected to find Dracula, Lucian, or the Weird Sisters. Maybe all three even. What he found confused him.

There was a woman chained to the cave wall. And like him, she was between shifts. Every part of his being began to vibrate with something close to need. Female shifters who could actually change shape were rare but not unheard of. The local wolf pack had some. So seeing one wasn’t new for Jonathan by any stretch of the imagination, yet his wolf was acting like it was Christmas, and it just happened upon its present early.

And what a present it was.

The woman’s blue bra was pulled taut against her breasts, leaving her erect nipples visible. He was suddenly very thankful the cave was much cooler than the outside temperature. Her panties, which were blue with small black bats all over them, hugged her hips. She had the type of shape a man would never tire of exploring.

White fur coated her arms, face, and neck. Her face, like his, was also between forms. She was neither human nor wolf. She was both. And she appealed to him oneverylevel possible. The Jonathan of old, the human version, would have possibly been scared by what he saw. The one who had spent over a hundred years proverbially and sometimes actually locked between two states—man and beast—thought she was the single most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes upon.

Instantly flashes of the young woman from Detroit with the broken glasses came to mind. She was beautiful too, but he wasn’t sure why he was thinking about her right now. Not when he was face-to-face with a fellow wolf-shifter who called to him on every level.

Her scent reminded him of cotton floss and raspberries. Sweet. Tempting. It brought with it memories of world fairs and the happier times of his younger years. A time before death and darkness. There was another smell coming from her. One that made him have the hard-on to end all hard-ons. It took him a second to recognize it for what it was—she was in heat.

His wolf did its version of a happy dance, fully onboard with the idea of this being the female it settled down with. The one it mated to.

Jonathan jerked, shaking his head violently, trying to wrangle control of his wolf side and keep it from rushing the woman and trying to mount her. As fun as that sounded, he didn’t know her, and she didn’t know him. Plus, he swore to himself he’d never dare pass the curse on to another willingly. That he wouldn’t reproduce.

The wolf didn’t seem to care what he’d promised himself. It kept pushing at him to claim her.

No, he ground out internally to his wolf.You will not pass this curse on!

He was pretty sure his wolf gave him the finger as a response.

She jerked at the chains, looking at him with a cross between lust and rage.

He wasn’t entirely sure if she was to get free, if she’d struggle to keep from touching him sexually or try to kill him. Strangely, he’d accept either. Both would mean she was making contact with him.

Get right with yourself, he pushed at his wolf.This is too intense. Something is wrong.

His wolf continued to ignore him, pushing and clawing at him, wanting to be freed fully. There were so many reasons why that was a bad idea that they’d be hard to list fully.

She was young for a wolf-shifter, and everything in him screamed that her wolf’s age didn’t match her actual age. That meant that she, too, had been turned—the same as he had. She’d not been born with a wolf in her.

She was a kindred spirit.

---