the middle. We hadn’t used a condom. My lips twisted a little oddly, I’ll bet. A fleeting sense of worry crossed my features. I had to ask, “You’re that sure of yourself, huh?”
He reached up and rubbed his eyes, saying, “I could smell you from a mile away.”
I grunted. Honestly, I thought-- fucking rude .
There was a noise outside. Nothing, really. Probably a tree branch bumping the wall or something. But Leer sat up instantly. His nose sucked in on the sides. His golden eyes seemed to laser around the room.
I said, “There’s a tree that--”
He held out a hand. That’s all it took to make me shut up and crawl up closer to his shoulder and back. I, too, peered around in worry. Funny how that happens. One person acts spooky and everybody gets keyed up?
Except Leer isn’t the kind of guy that gets worried about nothing. He can smell trouble--like he smelled me--from a mile away.
A protective arm sort of circled backward around me, while he listened. Nothing more.
I dropped a kiss on the back of his shoulder. Then I laid my head there and closed my eyes. I thought, you are definitely my hero--come to life .
He started to relax again. Probably due to my hands slipping up and around his body, slithering over his skin, just enjoying the feel of flesh to flesh. Honestly, at the time I thought it was because it was pretty new to me. Okay, totally new. But now I know that it was even more. My body was metamorphosing. I was totally unaware of it, but inside of me, there were changes happening. My own pronounced pheromones were just the beginning.
You see, breeder-kin mature into shapeshifters.
Yeah, there’s a surprise. How’d ya like to get to your twenty-something birthday and get that rude awakening with no warning?
The thing is--nobody wants to talk about it. With the nut cases in society, most breeders just think they’re going bonkers. People close by usually assume they’re doing drugs. What, with any mention of heightened sensual perception, isn’t that the first thing you think of?
So it’s no wonder they distance themselves from friends and family. It’s kind of instinctive, I guess. Most are loners to begin with. Or outsiders, I guess, is the better word. Some are more pack-oriented from birth. Even start gangs and clubs when they’re young.
Let me get back to what was going on between Leer and me. He really had come to put a mark, or a claim on me. With my scent wafting on the wind, I was about to bring in all the dogs--literally. The only way to tamp down my scent was to cover it--with his.
As you can see, he was doing a pretty good job of it.
Oh. I wanted to explain this--Garou mate with each other all the time. They have babies. Those--pups--are born in litters that, well, look like little wolf cubs. It’s easier on the bitch to do it in full canine form.
It makes sense. Who wants to cough up six babies--human style--in one night? Not me! So, more than anything, the shifting into wolf form is a self-protective thing that happens. But it’s genetically directed.
Breeder-kin don’t usually get that lucky. Breeders like me are born human, live human all their lives. They usually only morph after their first breeding season. And that’s only in cases of extreme emotional tension--like to defend their young.
That whole deal consists of some pretty horrific bone-popping and stuff like that. They call the shift form ‘crinos’. The beast within.
So, I’m cuddled up to the back of Leer--already having forgot the ‘get me pregnant’ thing. I can keep my head better now--when I’m with him. But that first night, I was messed up.
Curling like a kitten. Purring like one, too, practically.
We heard another thump.
Leer peeled my hands loose and twisted toward me. Very slowly, like I was
He reached up and rubbed his eyes, saying, “I could smell you from a mile away.”
I grunted. Honestly, I thought-- fucking rude .
There was a noise outside. Nothing, really. Probably a tree branch bumping the wall or something. But Leer sat up instantly. His nose sucked in on the sides. His golden eyes seemed to laser around the room.
I said, “There’s a tree that--”
He held out a hand. That’s all it took to make me shut up and crawl up closer to his shoulder and back. I, too, peered around in worry. Funny how that happens. One person acts spooky and everybody gets keyed up?
Except Leer isn’t the kind of guy that gets worried about nothing. He can smell trouble--like he smelled me--from a mile away.
A protective arm sort of circled backward around me, while he listened. Nothing more.
I dropped a kiss on the back of his shoulder. Then I laid my head there and closed my eyes. I thought, you are definitely my hero--come to life .
He started to relax again. Probably due to my hands slipping up and around his body, slithering over his skin, just enjoying the feel of flesh to flesh. Honestly, at the time I thought it was because it was pretty new to me. Okay, totally new. But now I know that it was even more. My body was metamorphosing. I was totally unaware of it, but inside of me, there were changes happening. My own pronounced pheromones were just the beginning.
You see, breeder-kin mature into shapeshifters.
Yeah, there’s a surprise. How’d ya like to get to your twenty-something birthday and get that rude awakening with no warning?
The thing is--nobody wants to talk about it. With the nut cases in society, most breeders just think they’re going bonkers. People close by usually assume they’re doing drugs. What, with any mention of heightened sensual perception, isn’t that the first thing you think of?
So it’s no wonder they distance themselves from friends and family. It’s kind of instinctive, I guess. Most are loners to begin with. Or outsiders, I guess, is the better word. Some are more pack-oriented from birth. Even start gangs and clubs when they’re young.
Let me get back to what was going on between Leer and me. He really had come to put a mark, or a claim on me. With my scent wafting on the wind, I was about to bring in all the dogs--literally. The only way to tamp down my scent was to cover it--with his.
As you can see, he was doing a pretty good job of it.
Oh. I wanted to explain this--Garou mate with each other all the time. They have babies. Those--pups--are born in litters that, well, look like little wolf cubs. It’s easier on the bitch to do it in full canine form.
It makes sense. Who wants to cough up six babies--human style--in one night? Not me! So, more than anything, the shifting into wolf form is a self-protective thing that happens. But it’s genetically directed.
Breeder-kin don’t usually get that lucky. Breeders like me are born human, live human all their lives. They usually only morph after their first breeding season. And that’s only in cases of extreme emotional tension--like to defend their young.
That whole deal consists of some pretty horrific bone-popping and stuff like that. They call the shift form ‘crinos’. The beast within.
So, I’m cuddled up to the back of Leer--already having forgot the ‘get me pregnant’ thing. I can keep my head better now--when I’m with him. But that first night, I was messed up.
Curling like a kitten. Purring like one, too, practically.
We heard another thump.
Leer peeled my hands loose and twisted toward me. Very slowly, like I was
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