Page 22 of Falling for My Shifter Defender

Then comes the shift—not violent or bone-breaking as I'd imagined, but fluid, like water changing form. Where Eli stood a moment before, there's now a large wolf with snow white fur and familiar hazel-gold eyes.

My breath catches. He's magnificent—powerful and wild in a way that makes my heart stutter. I freeze on the porch steps, suddenly aware of how small I am in comparison. The wolf is massive, his shoulders coming nearly to my waist, his presence commanding in a way that should frighten me but instead leaves me in awe.

The wolf—Eli—pads forward slowly, his movements deliberate, non-threatening. He stops a few feet away, watching me with intelligent eyes that are somehow still his, despite the changed form. I see Eli in the tilt of the wolf's head, in the patient way he waits for me to adjust.

I force myself to move, to kneel on the soft grass. My heart pounds, but not from fear—from wonder, from the intimacy of this moment. This is a gift, I realize. A sacred trust. He's showing me a part of himself that few humans ever see, and the vulnerability of it makes my throat tight.

I reach out a trembling hand.

"Can I?" I whisper.

The wolf moves closer in answer, ducking his head beneath my outstretched fingers. His fur is thick and soft, warmer than I expected. I sink my fingers into it, marveling at the texture, the heat of the living creature beneath. My hands look small against the massive breadth of his neck, a reminder of his power.

"You're beautiful," I breathe, the words barely audible.

Eli makes a low, rumbling sound—not a growl, but something gentler. He leans into my touch, and I grow bolder, running my hands along his neck, feeling the powerful muscle beneath his coat. There's something freeing about this, about accepting this part of him that's so different from anything I've known.

I'm struck by the trust he's placing in me. He could tear me apart in seconds if he wanted to, yet he stands here, letting me touch him, letting me see this wild part of his soul. It's the most intimate moment I've shared with anyone in years, and we're not even speaking.

After a few minutes, I sit back on my heels. "Can you... change back now?"

The wolf dips his head in what looks remarkably like a nod, then trots over to a cluster of trees. I turn away, giving him privacy for the shift. When I hear footsteps again, I look up to findEli approaching, now wearing just his sweatpants, his chest still bare in the moonlight.

The sight of him steals my breath all over again. Moonlight silvers the contours of his body, highlighting the defined muscles of his chest and abdomen, the broadness of his shoulders. A thin scar runs along his left side, and I find myself wondering what battle left that mark. His hair is tousled from the shift, giving him a wild, untamed look that makes my pulse quicken.

"Thank you," I say quietly. "For showing me."

"Thank you for asking." His voice is a low rumble that sends a shiver down my spine, raising goosebumps on my arms that have nothing to do with the cool night air. "Most humans don't want to see that side of us."

I rise to my feet, drawn to him like a magnet. "You're not what I expected," I admit, stepping closer, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his skin. "Any of this. I didn't think I could ever feel safe again."

"You are safe," he says, his voice dropping lower, rougher. "With me."

My hand lifts of its own accord, tracing the contours of his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath my palm. His skin is hot to the touch, as if the wolf's heat lingers just beneath the surface. The contrast between his hardness and the softness of his gaze makes something ache deep inside me.

"I believe you," I whisper, and I realize with a start that it's true.

Eli's hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing across my lower lip. The touch sends electricity racing through me,awakening parts I thought had gone dormant from disuse. When his mouth lowers to mine, I rise to meet him.

The kiss starts soft, a question more than a demand. But when I press closer, my body flush against his, something shifts. His arms wrap around me, lifting me easily, and I gasp against his mouth. No man has ever made me feel so delicate, so cherished, even as desire pools hot and insistent in my core.

He tastes like wilderness and safety all at once—like the promise of shelter after a storm. His hands are large against my back, spanning my ribs, and I'm struck by the gentleness in his touch, the careful way he holds me, as if I might break or run.

He carries me inside without breaking the kiss, his steps sure in the dim light. The house is quiet save for our breathing, growing more ragged with each passing second. When he lays me on the couch, he hovers above me, his weight supported on his forearms.

"Grace," he murmurs, my name a prayer on his lips. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with desire, but there's a question there too. "Tell me if you want to stop."

In answer, I pull him down to me, my kiss hungry now, demanding. His hands slide beneath my shirt, mapping the curve of my waist, the ladder of my ribs. Each touch is reverent, as if he's memorizing me by feel alone. The calluses on his palms catch slightly against my skin, a delicious friction that makes me arch closer.

When he tugs at the hem of my shirt, I lift my arms, letting him pull it over my head. The cool air pebbles my skin, but his hands are warm as they trace the edge of my bra, his eyes darkening as he takes me in.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, and the naked awe in his voice makes me believe him.

I've never felt beautiful before—not like this, not with a man looking at me as if I'm something precious. The men in my past saw my body as something to use, to take. Eli looks at me like I'm a gift he's afraid to unwrap.

His mouth follows the path of his hands, pressing kisses along my collarbone, the swell of my breasts, the sensitive skin beneath. I arch into his touch, a soft sound escaping me when his teeth graze my nipple through the thin fabric of my bra.

"Is this okay?" he asks, his fingers tracing the clasp at my back.

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