Wolf in Sheep's Clothing_BBW Paranormal Wolf Shifter Romance Read online

  Startled, he sat down on the sun-warmed shingles. "I thought sheep shifters didn't do that."

  "We don't talk about it much." Satisfied he wasn't going to lunge for the ladder the minute her back was turned, Mrs. MacReary turned her attention to the loose board holding down an older tar-paper patch job. Her words were punctuated with blows of the hammer. "It's slightly embarrassing romantic nonsense, to be sure. But my dear Eric and I had it, God rest his soul."

  "How do you survive losing that?" Damon asked. The words came straight from the heart without stopping to check in with his brain on the way, and he clenched his jaw as soon as he'd said them—as if that could take them back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up painful memories. It's just ... with Julie ... I don't know, it's all so new and immediate. I can't imagine not having her with me. When she's gone, all I want is to get back to her. Does it stop feeling like that, after a while?"

  "No," Mrs. MacReary said. "It never does." Her faded blue eyes were distant, looking into the past. "Eric and I were never apart a day for our entire marriage. And losing him was like losing my soul." She cleared her throat and returned her attention to her work. "But, you asked how a person goes on. I suppose it's like anything else. When you have to do it, you simply must do it. You haven't a choice."

  "I don't want Julie to feel like I'm putting her in a cage," Damon confessed. "It's terribly difficult to have her gone, but I don't want to keep her nearby just because I worry about her when she isn't."

  Mrs. MacReary smiled again. "Son, you're less than a day into having the girl as your mate, aren't you? Let those things come in time. I'm sure she wants to be with you just as much as you want her to be. And the fact you're worrying about it makes me think you probably won't."

  "Thanks," Damon said. "It's good to talk to someone about it."

  "That's what family is for."

  This warmed him in a way he hadn't expected. "I have to say, you being so accepting of our relationship is making me feel a lot better about talking to Julie's parents."

  "As long as you're prepared for a little shouting. But my girl and her husband are decent folks, and they want their daughter to be happy."

  "I'll keep that in mind—" Damon began. Then he flinched so hard he almost fell off the roof.

  Now he knew what Julie must have experienced when he was attacked. It was a straight shot of adrenaline to the nervous system, along with the overwhelming conviction that Julie was in danger, urgent danger, that she needed him now.

  "Julie," he gasped, scrambling for the ladder.

  "What happened?" Mrs. MacReady asked, but he was too singlemindedly focused on Julie to answer. All he knew was that he had to get to her, get to her now, protect her—

  But as his feet settled on the ground, rationality prevailed. He knew which way she was, but not how to get there. She was miles away. He didn't have his motorcycle or even a car.

  "It's the mate bond, isn't it?" Mrs. MacReary had managed to descend the ladder with the speed and agility of a woman half her age. "Is Julie in trouble?"

  Damon nodded. "I have to get to her. If I could borrow a car—"

  "Borrow, nothing," Mrs. MacReary snapped. "I'll drive you."

  Arguing would only waste time. He nodded.

  "The truck's in front of the house," she said. "I'll get the keys."

  Her truck, parked beside the Capshaw van, was an ancient green-painted Dodge, a classic old farm truck complete with wooden-slat bed box. It looked as old as Mrs. MacReary herself.

  As Mrs. MacReary came huffing back with the keys, Damon's phone vibrated in his pocket. He almost slapped it off, but took a look just in case it was Julie. It turned out to be the one other person he wouldn't have summarily hung up on.

  "Vanessa?"

  "Damon, thank God you're all right. Julie just called me—"

  "Julie called you?"

  "Be quiet and listen! Your girlfriend is in trouble. The pack's gone after her."

  "Which pack?" Damon asked. "Our pack?"

  "Which way?" Mrs. MacReary asked at the same time, revving the truck like a stock-car racer.

  "Both packs!" Vanessa was saying. "Ours and the Renner pack too. Gray and I are on our way to them now, but we're not sure exactly where—"

  "Left," Damon told Mrs. MacReary, and to Vanessa: "I can find them."

  Vanessa faltered. "The mate bond. Right. Listen, Damon, if we get there first, we'll try to stall them. But this is going to take an alpha to sort out."

  "Cain Renner is the only alpha around here," Damon said harshly. "And my father, for all the good that'll do us."

  "No, they aren't." Her voice was infused with anger. "You know you have alpha potential, Damon. You've always had it. Now you're going to have to stop denying it and step up."

  "I can't beat Cain Renner in a challenge, Vanessa. If I challenge him directly, I'll lose."

  "You've never believed you could win a challenge ever since you lost to Dad all those years ago," Vanessa shot back. "But you were a kid then, Damon. Of course you couldn't beat him. You're all grown up now, in the prime of your life as a wolf. I felt them try to use alpha control on you last night, and you shook it off like it was nothing."

  "I'll fight Cain for Julie," Damon said, trying to choke down the hopelessness he felt. "But if I lose—"

  "You won't! You can't. You're a stronger alpha than he is, Damon. If you weren't, you'd never have escaped last night."

  What she was saying made sense. He just wished he shared her confidence. "For Julie's sake, I'll try, but—"

  "You'll do more than try," Vanessa told him. "For Julie's sake, for all our sakes, you'll win."

  11. Julie

  When Julie was a child, she used to have nightmares of running in the woods, pursued by wolves.

  She still remembered those dreams vividly, the darkness and the terror and, worst of all, the overwhelming sense of futility. She never got tired in those dreams, but she never went anywhere, either. It was like running through syrup, her legs moving with all the strength she had, but never making any forward progress, while yellow eyes gleamed at her through the dark trunks of trees.

  Strangely enough, she'd stopped having those dreams after that one time when she was twelve, when the Wolfe pack did corner them in the woods, and Damon backed them down.

  At the time she'd thought it was because she'd finally managed to see the wolves as people, not as the sharp-fanged bogeymen her family used to scare errant little lambs into good behavior. They were not implacable monsters bent on destruction, but people who could be reasoned with.

  Now, all her nightmares rushed back to her—but this time, there was no waking reprieve to hope for.

  Her dreams had been wrong in one respect. It wasn't night, and it wasn't dark. In a way, that was the worst part. Sunlight painted the forest in shades of yellow and golden-green. The three Capshaw siblings raced through sun-dappled glades, splashed through brooks that glittered like gold coins around their bounding hooves. Birds burst into startled flight in front of them. But for their panicked, desperate race, the woods were serene and beautiful.

  And death, on swift gray paws, ran panting at their heels.

  It was never a contest. The wolves were on them in mere moments, but were content to toy with them, running the three terrified sheep to exhaustion. Dark gray bodies flashed through the sun-gold leaves, glimpsed more than seen. The hunting call of the pack rose from the forest around them, a wild song echoing now ahead, now behind.

  We only have to make it to the next farm. But she knew they'd never be allowed to make it that far.

  They came up against a fence at last. It was hog-wire, meant to keep in pigs or elusive, climbing goats, and it ran for several hundred yards in both directions. On the far side, a long meadow and a cluster of outbuildings beckoned ... and might as well have been on the moon, for all the good it'd do.

  The wolves drifted out of the woods, closing in from all sides. It was like that time from her childhood all over ag
ain, except this time Damon wasn't there to save her.

  Damon, please come!

  She couldn't tell how far he was, but she could sense his desperation through their bond. He was aware of her peril. Whether he could arrive in time to do anything about it was the issue.

  The pack circled them, six or eight huge wolves in various shades of gray and brown. Julie recognized Cain Renner without being quite sure how she knew. Maybe it was the way the others deferred to him. His wolf coat was a light yellow-brown, brindled with gray.

  He watched her with amber eyes, lips drawn back from his teeth, panting in an eager wolf-grin.

  They're not monsters, Julie reminded herself. They're people.

  She shifted. Ava followed suit a moment later. Terry remained in his shifted form, head down and legs spread apart, trying to keep himself between the bulk of the pack and his sisters.

  "You don't want to do this," Julie said. "Brad, Barry—" She wasn't entirely sure which of the wolves were Damon's cousins, but she knew they had to be here. "We were never friends, but we've all lived in this valley for our entire lives. I know you've never killed anyone. You understand this is murder, don't you? I know you don't really want to hurt us."

  "I don't think they're listening," Ava whimpered. She was on her knees, thing arms wrapped around herself in terror.

  Julie crouched beside her little sister and put a comforting arm around her. "We grew up together, all of us," she told the pacing wolves. "We're neighbors, not enemies. Can't you see that?"

  None of the wolves reacted to her pleas; they continued to pace and slaver. They aren't really going to hurt us, are they? Somehow she still couldn't quite believe it.

  Movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention. In the pasture behind the wire, two more wolves came into view, running flat-out with their tails low and heads down. One was the big light-gray wolf she'd met for the first time at the Wolfe place earlier today; she would have recognized Graydon even without the slight, tell-tale hitch in his stride. The other wolf, outdistancing him by several body-lengths, was much smaller and dark, glossy brown.

  The small dark wolf shifted in mid-stride and suddenly became Vanessa, who slammed into the wire behind the Capshaw siblings. She hooked her fingers into the wire and gave the rest of her pack a beseeching look through the fence. "Please! Stop it! This isn't who we are."

  Graydon loped up behind her. He remained in his shifted form and snarled at the pack through the wire. With the fence in the way, there wasn't much he could do, and they clearly knew it. None of them gave him more than a passing glance.

  "Is Damon with you?" Julie asked.

  Vanessa shook her head. "But he's coming." She reached through the wire and gave Julie's hand a quick squeeze.

  A lot of good that'll do us if we get killed in the meantime.

  But it was clear that Vanessa and Gray's arrival had given the pack something to think about. Their overall mood was more uncertain now than aggressive, and Julie didn't think it was just her imagination that their threatening pacing had become more aimless. They were milling around anxiously now rather than harassing their prey.

  Vanessa gave a sudden gasp and fell to her knees in the pasture. Gray flattened his ears and backed off. All the other wolves, except for the big yellow-and-gray one, reacted similarly, putting their ears and tails down and cringing.

  The big wolf shifted. Julie jumped. Where the wolf had been, Cain Renner now stood, arms folded triumphantly. He cast a scathing glance across the cringing pack. Even Vanessa and Gray were cowed; Gray was almost on his belly in the pasture, and only Vanessa's grip on the fence kept her upright.

  "That's right, obey your alpha." Cain's voice crackled with anger. "Stop acting like you've never been on a hunt before. Doug, Ray, there's really no excuse—you've been hunting with me since you were pups. Is Verne's pack really so much of an undisciplined mess that it's turning my wolves into wimps?"

  Cain was pushing his alpha aura so hard that Julie could even feel something, a heaviness like sinus pressure behind her eyes.

  Should we rush them while they're distracted? Maybe we can get away.

  Terry, still in his ram form, glanced back at the girls, catching Julie's eyes briefly.

  But it wouldn't work. She tried to will Terry to understand as his muscles bunched beneath his shaggy mouflon coat. They'll just catch us again if we run.

  "Now," Cain said, his lips pulling back in a snarl—and even his blunt human teeth seemed somehow sharper. "Let's show them what happens to sheep who trespass in the wolves' forest."

  "No!"

  Damon's voice rang out, and a whipcrack of authority came with it. All the wolves flinched, including Vanessa and Gray—and even Cain himself, though he covered rapidly.

  At the edge of the woods, Damon stood in human form. His fists were clenched, and he met Cain's gaze squarely.

  "Cain Renner," Damon said. "I challenge you for the position of alpha of the Wolfe and Renner packs."

  12. Damon

  "Are you sure?" Mrs. MacReary had asked Damon when he'd told her to let him out at a patch of woods that, to ordinary eyes, looked no different from anywhere else along the little country road.

  "I'm sure." Somewhere beyond those stands of trees, Julie was near, and she was in mortal peril. The road continued onward, traveling now in the wrong direction.

  He leaped out of the truck, shifting as he hit the ground. It was easier to run with his injured leg in wolf form than as a human. He had four legs to distribute his weight, rather than two.

  In his shifted form, he dashed through the woods like a wolf possessed. His awareness of Julie's presence, and her danger, was even more acute as a wolf than as a man. He barely felt the pain of his injuries; he seemed to float through the forest, a night-dark ghost in the heat of afternoon.

  The scent of the pack hit him first. He slowed to a fast trot, then stopped completely when the wave of alpha command rolled over him. It pressed down on him like a great hand, insisting that he flatten himself to his belly and submit to his pack's alpha.

  Instead, he shifted. He found himself on hands and knees, head down.

  Submit, Renner's alpha aura demanded.

  And Damon thought: No.

  Slowly, moving one muscle at a time, he struggled to his feet by leaning heavily on the nearest tree. Nausea rushed through him, prickling his skin with cold sweat. His body wanted to yield.

  NO.

  Letting go of the tree and staying upright was perhaps the hardest thing he'd ever done. But he did it. His feet seemed to be rooted to the ground. He forced one of them to lift a fraction and set down, taking a single step away from the tree, closer to Renner.

  Through the trees, Renner's voice came in disjointed fragments as Damon's awareness of his surroundings faded in and out. It took all his concentration to keep upright, to keep moving forward. One step. Another.

  He came to the edge of the woods just in time to hear Renner's voice: "Let's show them what happens to sheep who trespass in the wolves' forest."

  Julie's fear and defiance rolled down the link between them, filling Damon with the echo of her futile courage.

  "No!" Damon roared, and with that single word came a volcanic surge of white-hot anger. He'd never felt anything like it, not even when he faced down his father ten years ago.

  The other pack members quailed instinctively under that flood of rage—and Renner's control over Damon snapped like an over-stretched rubber band. Shock crossed Renner's face, followed a split second later by cold anger as Damon spoke the words of the challenge.

  Renner bared his teeth. "Pup, I am going to enjoy killing you."

  Damon snarled back, "I haven't been a pup in a long time."

  Renner's alpha aura rolled back at him. It poured over him like an avalanche of ice cubes, cold and impossibly heavy, trying to crush him.

  But this time Damon was prepared. He stood his ground, legs spread and braced. The pain in his savaged ankle helped keep him ce
ntered, focused. He shoved back, and this time it was Renner who staggered.

  "What's happening to them?" Julie's voice asked, sounding loud in the sudden hush. Damon couldn't spare the attention to look toward her.

  "It's an alpha struggle." Gray's voice shook slightly. Although Renner and Damon's focus was directed at each other, the rest of the pack must be suffering from the powerful overflow of their contest of wills. "Whoever is stronger will win."

  "Isn't anyone going to help?" Julie asked.

  "No one can," Vanessa's soft voice explained. "A challenge has to be between the two alphas. That's our way."

  "It's a stupid way," Julie muttered. But she stayed where she was.

  Renner was giving ground, when he shifted to wolf form without warning. Reacting to his opponent's change, Damon shifted too, a critical instant later. Renner was already lunging forward, backing up his psychic attack with open jaws and flashing fangs.

  Instead of meeting the charge, Damon dodged aside. Renner stumbled past him and spun around, but now Damon had siezed the advantage, pressing his own mental attack with all his strength.

  Renner snarled and attacked. Damon dodged again. Renner was bigger; Damon knew he couldn't let Renner get a grip with his teeth, or he'd be borne down beneath the other wolf's greater weight.

  There was only one tiny thread of his consciousness he could spare from the fight, and that thread belonged to Julie. Through their link, he sensed her starting to move.

  Julie, no! Stay there! Not only would her interference constitute a gross violation of pack law, but if she tried to intervene between two fighting wolves, she was very likely to get herself hurt or killed. Damon wasn't sure if he would even be able to stop himself in time, in the heat of the fight, and Renner certainly wouldn't hold back.

  Hell, that bastard would probably enjoy killing Damon's mate in front of him.

  Renner wasn't exactly losing, but he wasn't getting the quick and easy win he'd no doubt envisioned, and it was driving him mad with rage. His attacks came harder and faster, driving Damon back. But there was a cost: he couldn't maintain the necessary level of mental discipline while he was physically fighting. Slowly Damon began to gain the upper hand.