Page 2 of Taken By the Stone Wolves

“I don’t care that she can’t sing,” he admitted, a sparkle in his eyes for the first time in years. “Don’t even care what she looks like… Or if she likes pickles. I…” he paused, his expression slipping for a moment to show the misery within. “I just want someone to love.”

“I know, mate.” Verne looped his arm over Darrick’s shoulders and gave him a quick squeeze. “How about we go find her?”

The two turned and headed into the manor. Verne lifted his head as a delicious scent wrapped around him. He breathed in, holding his breath deep in his lungs just in case he never smelled it again. His body came alive, blood heating in an instant and his cock punching to full mast. Now that he had her scent he knew what Darrick meant.

She was the one. Their mate had found them.

At his side, Darrick moaned. A low, guttural sound of sensual pleasure. One Verne had heard before. As the ruling alphas in this area, they’d shared many a woman in hedonistic nights filled with carnal pleasures. But he’d never heard that level of pure need behind it.

“She’s perfect, just perfect.”

Verne’s lips quirked as he picked up the pace. Scent and sound made it easy to track their trespasser to the ante-chambers beyond the main hall. He stepped through the door, and slid into the gathering shadows to get his first look at her.

She stood in the middle of the ruined room with her back to them. A mass of blonde curls tumbled down her back. Her shoulders were nicely set above a narrow waist that Verne itched to slide his hands around to see if it was as tiny as it looked. Then his gaze slid down and he had to bite back a moan. She had an ass on her that would tempt a damn monk. And neither of them were monks. The nearest either he or Darrick had gotten to religion was using a bible to steady a rocking table they’d fucked a maid on.

Darrick caught his breath, and the soft sound must have gotten her attention because she spun around, lowering the camera to peer into the shadows that concealed them.

This time Verne couldn’t hold back his groan. She was beautiful, with wide, violet eyes and a pair of lips made for kissing, or to be wrapped around his cock.

Something he vowed to make happen very soon.

Chapter 2

For the last half an hour, Nat had had the oddest notion she was being watched. So much so that several times she’d lowered her camera and called out “Hello?” into the growing shadows. She wasn’t afraid of the dark. Never had been. Thanks to the latent lycan genes in their blood, all her family saw well at night so she was comfortable out here now that night had fallen.

Still, to keep herself company, she’d resorted to singing. She didn’t sing well. In fact, she sang so badly she restricted her melodic outbursts to the car, the shower, or other places she knew she would be on her own. Like an abandoned manor in the middle of nowhere, in the dark. Alone.

She fought back a shiver. Put that way, it sounded like a classic set up for a horror movie. The sort where the too-stupid-to-live heroine wandered off by herself. The usually blonde too-stupid-to-live heroine. She sighed and flicked her golden locks over a shoulder. Great. She was proving the stereotype.

A sound behind her caught her attention. She whirled around, camera in hand, and froze. There, in the shadows behind her were two of the largest men she’d ever seen.

“Hey there.”

She managed a small smile, even though she wanted to run like hell. Something about the way they watched her and the set of their bodies, warned her not to. While she was a few generations removed from even the remnant of true lycan abilities, there was nothing wrong with her human survival instincts. Right now, they screamed that the two men in front of her were predators of the highest order.

“I’m almost done, so I’ll be out of your hair in a jiffy.”

Neither replied. Instead they just watched her. She couldn’t see their eyes, so her gaze wandered down bodies which wouldn’t look out of place in any gym. They were both naked to the waist, revealing acres of satiny skin over hard muscles that made her knees wobble.

“Aren’t you guys cold?” she asked. Not that she was complaining. Despite the fact she often had a camera in her hands, delicious looking men did not feature amongst her models. On a normal day they were of the floral variety, or maybe a nice landscape. Perhaps she should switch to studio or fashion photography…

The lighter haired one stepped forward into the light. Nat swallowed and tried to stop herself from drooling. He was gorgeous. Tall, blonde haired and blue eyed, his lips curled into the sexiest smile she’d ever seen. Crap, she needed new panties.

“You’re here.”

She lifted an eyebrow. Gorgeous. And dumb. Just her luck. Mind you, she didn’t have to have intelligent conversation with him. She could enjoy that wonderful body… Oh, who the hell was she trying to kid? Short and described as prettily plump, there was no way a hottie like this, or his hot companion lurking in the darkness by the door would find her attractive.

“Yes, I’m sorry.” Another thought occurred to her and her eyes widened. Shit. Perhaps they were members of the family… In which case, was she trespassing? She dropped the camera onto the neck strap, and backed up a step toward the doorway behind her. “I’m very sorry if I’m trespassing. There weren’t any signs…”

"Don’t need them." A deep, male voice rumbled by her ear, making her jump. The second guy had circled around behind her. "Everyone knows that this is our land. And what we do to trespassers."

She should be scared. She was alone with two big men she didn't know, cornered in a derelict manor with no hope of help if she needed it. She wasn’t scared. There was something about them. They wouldn’t hurt her. It didn’t matter that there was no one around to hear her scream.

Depended on her reasons for screaming, the little voice in the back of her head commented. She had to agree with it. There were a few scenarios with these two she could see herself cutting loose like that. Then reality intruded, brought her down to earth. She sighed. Not going to happen.

He reached out and lifted a loose curl from her shoulder. She froze but not in fear. His expression as he rolled the stands of her hair between his fingers as if it were fine silk or gold thread fascinated her. As did his scent, wrapping her in its coils like a siren's melody. It wasn't the normal cologne scent. Woodsy and wild, it reminded her of the moors after the rain. And sex.

She frowned. Why would his scent make her think of sex? Oh God, she hadn't had sex for so long she'd turned into a damn nymphomaniac. She leaned away, trying to pull her hair from his grasp without him realizing. His gaze flicked up to hers and she froze. He had amber eyes. The eyes of a wolf.

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