Jonathan
The late afternoon sun glints through the thin trees, catching my eye while I sprint across the property in wolf form. Brush and dried grass snag my fur as my paws sink into the thawing tundra. I've left Eric behind, worried he wouldn't be able to change fast enough to explain to the wolves why they need to return to the inn.
Ice fills my gut at the thought of one of my old packmates being hunted with silver bullets. Who's out here, tracking wolves when they come to play? Has Jerry, the crafty sonovabitch, fooled us all?
A series of muted pops sounds in the distance. I push myself further, stretching my body into longer strides. A low wailing howl reaches my ears followed by a chorus of tortured yowls, a sense of loss hanging in lingering notes.
Werewolf blood floats in the air, along with the loud steps of a human crunching through last year's dead growth. The dark-skinned form of Kotsana looms in front of me, carrying the still body of his wife in his arms. Tears pour down his face, and rage billows from every pore on his well-muscled body.
Three Weres flank him, still in wolf form, herding the man toward the inn, away from death and closer to safety.
"Why?" He weeps into the stillness. "Why would someone shoot Deneishia with silver?"
The wolves around him show teeth, telling me to keep my distance. I have several choices-I could hunt the shooter, find and warn the others, or lead this group to the inn and see to helping the injured wolf. I make a snap decision, bounding off in the direction the survivors came from, anxious to keep everyone from danger.
I race across the sloping hills of the vast Alaskan tundra, skirting the edge of the of Arctic National park. My paw snags in a jagged crevice of ground and momentum tumbles me into a shallow ravine created by frost upheaval. As I pick myself up, I notice I'm not alone.
The distinct gray and brown flecking around Naomi's nose distinguishes her from the rest of her pack. Her whiskey-colored eyes meet mine, but she doesn't move from her prone spot in the mud. I give a soft woof to encourage her, and she glances at her right rear leg. She's caught in a trap. Shiny jaws clamp over the delicate bone, digging deep furrows welling with blood.
The metal is too bright for a traditional bear trap, and judging by Naomi's inability to change back to human and pry the jaws open herself, I'm betting the tooth-like spikes are silver-coated. I push my will to the surface and shift, making the change in lightning speed.
Naked, I crouch next to her and soothe a work-roughened hand down Naomi's back, trying to calm her raised hackles. "Shh, honey. It's just me. I'll have you out of this mess in no time."
Anger boils low inside me, chasing the chill from my bare skin and fueling me to grab the silver-coated metal without hesitation. Pain singes my fingertips and palms as I pry the trap apart.
A small whine escapes the wolf as Naomi limps forward out of the jagged clutches. "We don't allow traps of this sort-never have." I snap the device in half, ensuring its destruction. Blisters rise on my exposed skin, but I ignore them to examine the gaping wounds on Naomi's shifting leg.
Forcing a change to either form will usually heal minor injuries. Transformation takes longer due to the silver taint, but in a few minutes she's back to normal, standing with blood trickling down the deep mocha skin on her calf. She shakes her head, sending long, skinny black braids in a silky tangle of movement. "The trap was hidden under leaves at the bottom of the ravine. I tripped like you did and went sailing into it."
"How's your leg?"
She tests her weight on it. "Not bad. I think I can run." We climb the sloped side of the fissure, staying low to scan for shooters. "Jon, what the hell is going on up here? First we have one of your guys shot yesterday and now one of ours?"
"Were you there when Deneishia was shot?"
"Nope. They were a few miles away, but I heard it and the pack howls afterward." She scans the horizon before turning to me. "Coast looks clear. Should we sprint for the trees?"
The slender trunks won't offer us much cover, but they are bound to be better than walking the open tundra like sitting ducks. "Yeah, can you handle it?"
Naomi lowers her eyes to take in my dangling junk. "Can you run with that hunk of meat banging against your legs on every stride?"
Heat burns in her gaze and my body instantly responds to her attention. "I'll take that as a 'yes'," I say and playfully smack the toned and well-rounded woman on the ass. "You first, so I can watch you run."
She smiles and meets my eyes, well aware I won't leave her behind and want her in front of me to keep her safe.
We take off and the experience of running combines with the jolt of adrenaline to leave my mind curiously free. I don't feel Vivian's weight in my thoughts and the gorgeous werewolf in front of me starts to look sexier by the second. We make it to the trees without incident.
Naomi eyes my growing erection. "I'm betting whoever squeezed off the shots that hit Deneishia is long gone."
I do my best to stop staring at her pert nipples and ignore the light sheen of sweat making her skin glisten like lickable chocolate.
"Has it been that long Jon?" She smiles to take the sting from her next words. "I would have expected better control during a situation like this from an alpha of your caliber."
I turn my face to the side, refusing to talk about what I can and cannot handle as an alpha. It's a little too late to hide my arousal, so I do my best to think unsexy thoughts and will the blood away from my growing dick. "You're the one eyeing me up and talking about my 'meat'. I'm just a poor guy trying to do good when he sees an old packmate in need of help."
"Uh-huh, sure." Her eyes roam down my body.
"Hey, if you keep looking at me like that, it will continue to grow."
We walk in silence for a few minutes. Which is good. I can't keep up the banter and not get a woody.
Naomi glances sideways at me, to see if I'm under control. "Who could have set that trap if it wasn't one of your employees?"
Her question douses the rest of my arousal and I'm able to focus my attention like I should-scanning the nearby trees to search for a glint of metal or glare from a scope. "I don't know. That's something we're going to need to talk to everyone about."
"You think it could be one of us?"
"Not everyone has gone on both expeditions, have they?"
She snorts her disagreement on my path of reasoning.
"Is your leg holding up?" I refuse to look at her well-muscled calf again when she's naked or I could very well embarrass myself with another half-mast here in the woods.
"Stings, the bleeding has slowed. But I can run."
"Good. We're not safe here. Let's get you back with the others at the inn."
We take a circular route, jogging at an easy pace. We come across another group of four wolves and relay what happened while they stay in wolf form. I don't recognize these by sight and Naomi tells me when they leave that they were two of the three married couples I didn't know well. Now that I think of it, besides Spike, all the lone wolves Romeo's group brought are female. I'm surprised more single men from his pack didn't want to try their luck at big-game hunting, but then again, they may plan on coming later in the season when more large animals are around.
By the time we reach the first family cabins, Naomi is limping. Without a word, I scoop her up and toss her over one shoulder in a fireman's carry.
"Hey!" she squeals in an indignant cry. Quickly, her tone changes. "No, we're good. I've got a great view of your ass from this angle. Forge on, my wolfman!"
The blood rushes to my cock again with her shapely ass mere inches from my face. Damn, maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
Naomi starts to wiggle. "Put me down, now."
"No." I don't want her to see my arousal. Even the smell of her healing wound isn't cooling my interest.
She drives her knee into my chest, loosening my grip to allow her to slide off my shoulder. I try to turn my body to the side so she can't feel my erection, but it's too late, she slides a strong thigh over it on her way down.
In a flash she's wrapped her hot hand over my length and starts to pump me. "Oh, what do we have here?" She reaches her free hand up and pulls me down by the neck for a slow, lingering kiss. Her tongue delves deep into my mouth, and the scent of her own arousal permeates the air.
I pull back. "Naomi, not here." I look wildly at the empty cabins, wondering if I should break down a door to give us privacy. "In a bed, please." My breath comes in pants as she pulls my erection. "When you're bandaged and not bleeding...." A gurgle of sound bubbles in my throat, indicating I'm close to losing what little control I have left. "Where I can treat you right."
She places a finger against my lips while continuing to stroke my aching cock. "Now it's your turn to shush." She shifts her weight, proving she's feeling okay. "What a miracle, I don't feel my wound at all." She amps up the speed of her hand and twists her fist at the end, slicking my own pre-come over the swollen head. "If I don't ease you right now you'll be of no use to me later."
I cup her head with my hands and kiss her deeply. She smells like the forest and green living things, and her grip feels like heaven. No visions of red hair, no lingering thoughts of threesomes.... No dreams of fangs sinking into me when I come. Geez, I better shut down my mind or I'm going to ruin this. I break the kiss, gasping for air. "Oh God, Naomi..."
"That's it, baby, let yourself go."
She returns her mouth to mine and latches onto my bottom lip, tugging it between her lips, sucking. Heat burns the base of my cock, building pressure under her tight grasp. A rustle sounds to our right, but I ignore it, too close now to care about anything else. Two more solid pumps and release rips from my body, shooting white ribbons of come into the late afternoon air.
My hips jerks with her slowing strokes, each pass a gentle milking of sensation through my attention-starved body. "Christ..." I rest my head on her shoulder, wrapping my arms around her in a loose embrace. "I needed that."
She laughs low, a seductive sound full of promise. "You don't say, huh? That was one of the fastest orgasms I've seen in quite a while, Mr. Alpha."
A guttural growl issues from a scrub brush, pulling us around. Black fur rushes forward, a snarling muzzle showing sharp teeth stops six feet from where my ejaculation hit the ground.
Naomi makes a shooing motion with her hand. "Go away, Spike. We had our fun. You and I have been done for a while."
Spike's golden eyes don't rest on Naomi long, but hover over me instead. "You and he were an item?" The unique smell of the werewolf floats up to tickle my nose. I am not gay, dammit. There is no reason he should smell good to me. Has being tied to Vivian for so long somehow fucked up my sense of who I'm attracted to? Then again, I had no problem getting hard over Naomi's glorious ass, so that can't be it. Maybe I'm bi and didn't know it? Attraction is attraction; no reason to place a label on it. I must be doing it now to ease my own confusion.
Naomi turns her back on Spike to show what she thinks of him and tugs me along to walk next to her. "I wouldn't say we were an item. But we had fun once or twice."
Spike trails behind us and growls again when I glance sideways at Naomi's impressive rack. "Was it once or was it twice? And did you dump him?" I look over my shoulder to see the snarling form pacing us about four feet. "Back off, old man. You had your chance."
She huffs and pouts a bit. "If you must know, last fall he licked my pussy like he couldn't get enough. He visits here in January, and then poof, comes back distant. Now he's just interested again because I'm not. Typical jealous werewolf shit."
January was when Spike locked eyes with me and I could have sworn he looked like a woman for a split second. What I really need to figure out is whether Spike's growling his displeasure at my actions or Naomi's? Or maybe he's more annoyed at our timing? After all his packmate has been shot, and I'm the one getting jerked off without a care in the world.
Stupid fool, that's what I am. Alphas don't get a break. Especially when those they're supposed to protect are injured. I straighten my shoulders, slightly disgusted by my own behavior. I wouldn't stop Spike if he decided to bite me instead of just growling like a fiend.
The fun and diversion of the last few minutes melts the moment we enter the hot tub grotto. Tension from the shooting pulses back to life and our little moment of happiness is over. Naomi looks wistfully at me and whispers, "Our time will have to wait, Jon. We've got much more pressing matters, now."
I nod and pat her shoulder as I walk away; grateful she's got a good head on her shoulders and isn't clinging to my side like we're now a mated pair or something dramatic like that.
The sun hasn't quite set, so Asa won't be able to come outdoors yet. Eric and Pat mill about the cooking area near the dining room entrance, handing out sweat pants and towels for showering werewolves. I stroll up to them, hoping the smell of my own release is hidden by the press of furry and non-furry bodies in the area. And if it isn't, fuck it. Neither of them have the balls to call me out on the inappropriate timing on my part.
Hey, she grabbed my cock. Not like I asked her to. Why does it sound as if I'm trying to convince myself my behavior a few minutes ago wasn't reprehensible? Why is Spike walking close enough to get his nose in my ass? I turn and swat the wet snout, telling him succinctly to back off.
"How is Denieshia?" I ask the pups. "Any word?"
Eric hands me a towel, raising an eyebrow when I don't take it right away. What can I say; I'm comfortable being naked. Once I take the towel he answers, "She lost a lot of blood. I'm not sure how she's doing."
"Where are her alphas?" I ask, scanning the changed forms in the patio area for signs of Elsa or Romeo. It doesn't look like everyone from their pack is here.
"Romeo hasn't come back. Elsa is downstairs with Kotsana and the doctor."
"Deneishia's husband is one large scary dude," Pat says "Kind of reminds me of The Rock." At my blank stare he continues, "You know Dwayne Johnson? The Scorpion King dude?"
"Uh-huh, yeah. I'm sure he gives a shit about celebrity look-alikes when his wife has just been shot." Pat flushes slightly at my chastisement. "If she doesn't make it we're going to have one really big, grief-crazed guy. Think about it like that instead."
"Is that why Asa has a big tranquilizer rifle?" Eric asks.
I nod and head toward the owners' apartment. "Yup. He and I wrote down a bunch of protocols in case things went south this summer. Although, we certainly didn't bargain on someone shooting the wolves when we thought up problems."
A gut-wrenching howl of pain echoes from the house, and the massive form of Kotsana's half-changed werewolf hurls through the window over the kitchen sink. He growls and slashes at everyone close to him then charges at break-neck speed through the winding paths of the landscaped area.
"Oh, shit," I say, fearing the worst. The tired wolves near us race off, in the hopes of tracking down their packmate before he harms himself.
A window on the second floor opens. The barrel of the tranquilizer gun slides out and aims in the direction Kotsana headed. A small puff of sound sends a brightly colored dart zipping after the rampaging werewolf.
Asa leans out the window wearing a ski mask despite the beginning of twilight and yells, "His wife is gone. Drag him back here so we can restrain him before the tranqs wear off."