Trusting the Wolf: VIC Shapeshifters, #3

GENRE: PARANORMAL THRILLER/PARANORMAL ROMANCE

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, businesses, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only. The publisher does not have any control over or assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their contents.

TRUSTING THE WOLF

Copyright © 2019 by Yvonne Rediger

Cover Design by Shelley Havelange

All cover art copyright © 2019

All Rights Reserved

Print ISBN: 978-0-9952012-8-6

Ebook ISBN: 978-0-9952012-7-9

Second Publication JANUARY 2023

First Publication: JUNE 2019

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

PUBLISHED BY BROWN Wolf Publishing

DEDICATION

For all the girls in my family, especially my nieces.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thank you to WO Lukas Rediger, MWO Stephen Hemeon (retired), and Major Leslie Rediger. Your help and advice made this story possible.

Thank you, Shelley Havelange, for the cover art.

Chapter One

Iwoke with a start, my heart pounding like a jackhammer. The taste of blood coated the back of my throat, a ghost of a memory. I’d killed Geoff, again.

With the sheet clenched in my fists, I struggled to get my heart rate under control. I didn’t need a mirror to tell me gold rolled over my shapeshifter eyes.

The rage, fear, and revulsion faded slowly as I came back to myself. Wearily, I rubbed my face.

This was getting old.

Get a grip, Lottie, I told myself irritably and flung back the covers.

Geoff was a member of my pack and used to run security with me. I never much liked him. We didn’t get along, but we could work together.

Our alphas discovered the beta wolf murdered one of our pack members and poisoned another. I didn’t know anything about it until it was too late.

How did I miss the signs pointing to his guilt? I’m a security screw up, that’s how.

The need to be outside overwhelmed me. I didn’t bother to grab a robe before leaving the bedroom.

My feet unerringly took me through the dark house. From the kitchen, I exited by the back door and stepped into the walled-in back garden. The cooler night air helped and I breathed in deep. Slowly, my blood pressure dropped, but it wasn’t enough. Usually, when I was surrounded by growing things, I could unwind. Not tonight.

In daylight, the yard was a multi-hued display. After dark, the plants released their complex scents into the still night air. Surrounded by the rich, spicy perfumes, I breathed them in again, hoping to calm down. But still it wasn’t enough.

Abruptly, I opened the outside shower door. The metal spring protested with a squawk, but I was the only one to hear it.

Even though the new moon had yet to rise, the interior was clearly defined as my wolf sight took over. The teak floor, smooth under my bare feet, felt cold. My landlord salvaged the wood from a sailboat cockpit to build it. The wooden grid allowed the water from the rainspout shower head to pass through to the drainage system and water the plants. We experienced droughts more often now on the Island, and Guy Tremblay was the plan ahead type.

A bath puff and towel hung from the row of brass hooks, but I wasn’t there to shower, at least not yet. I hug my panties and tank top from an empty hook.

At five-foot, ten inches, I carried a respectable amount of muscle. With my well-developed arms extended over my head I reached for the night sky. I bent forward and placed my hands flat on the wooden floor, and felt my hamstrings stretch. None of this naked yoga was strictly necessary, but it loosened up my limbs. I felt a consuming need to shift and burn off the nightmare hangover with a run.

As I straightened, brief bloody images flashed in my head. Geoff managed to kill and terrorize his way from Campbell River to the Cowichan Valley before we made him pay. It didn’t matter that he deserved to die, I just wished I could escape the images.

I remember every detail of Geoff’s death with excruciating clarity. The feel of his flesh as it gave way under my teeth, the hot spurt of his blood in my mouth and on my face. My anger, fear, and the taste of bile, along with the rank smell of his fur. A shiver of revulsion passed through me and made me want to puke.

Instead, I shook off the overpowering feelings, took one more deep, calming breath, and my barriers dropped.

Pure, clean power washed through me, as I open myself up to the pool of magic that resided inside my human shape. The magic cleaned and transformed my spirit as it reshaped my body. The power drove away the suffocating feelings of guilt and released my wolf.

I held a considerable amount of magic and my transformation was always swift and easy. As a result, I stood on four large wolf paws and lifted my head to shake out my sable-brown coat.

My world was sharper and more distinct in my wolf form. Images hidden by the night come in to focus. Smells were sharper, like the tang of small animals, the remnants of my neighbor’s barbeque last night, and the green smells of plants around me made my nose twitch. Each sound was crisper and clearer too. Everything was less complicated in this shape. I loved my wolf, she was my release.

With my head and shoulders I pushed the double-hinged door open, and loped across the yard. There is a gate with a loop of rope attached to the latch, but it’s fiddly. Besides, it was nothing for me to clear the six-foot stone wall, and I couldn’t wait. I wanted to run, I needed to run.

I was over the fence in a heartbeat and landed with barely a sound. My claws dug into the soft dirt and dried grass, and bit deep into the turf. I gathered my hindquarters under me and thrust forward into the night.

When I ran in my animal shape it always made me feel better. With no reservations, I gave myself over to my wolf completely.

Given the reins, she consumed me and escaped the horrible guilt the dreams always invoked. I didn’t regret killing Geoff. He brought his death onto himself. What I did regret was I never questioned his behavior. My dislike for him blinded me. I was supposed to be an impartial investigator, in any given situation. Not a great recommendation for a security supervisor, charged with keeping the pack safe.

My paws hit the soft dirt in a steady rhythm and fresh air filled my lungs.

The night creatures froze in place as I passed by. I didn’t care, I wasn’t hunting. Instead, I dropped my head, laid my ears back, and pushed myself harder. Building speed to take the next ridge, and I instinctively head for pack lands and leave my neighborhood behind.

The Vancouver Island Clan, my pack, hadn’t yet announced its presence to the world. Although I knew my alpha, Iain was gearing up for this scary step. Until then, I needed to remain unseen.

There were plenty of wolves on Vancouver Island, but not too many here in the Cowichan Valley. I am a shapeshifter wolf, which means I'm larger than a full-blood wolf. One look at me, and there would be panic calls to the conservation office or the cops.

Alone, in the wee hours of the morning, with no one to look out for, but myself, I skirted the glistening waters of Crofton Lake then turned to the west. A well-used path lay before me. The trail would take me up the backside of Mount Richards.

I threaded my way through the immense big-leaf maples and Douglas-fir. My wolf sight allowed me to easily slip in, out, and over obstacles. Between Sitka spruce, and arbutus trees, over deadfalls of cedar and a clump of wild blackberry bushes before silently landing on the track again.

The exertion took over all my conscious thought. The rush of blood through my veins invigorated me. Encouraged, I stretched myself out to run harder. I welcomed the cool breeze as it ran over my muzzle and combed gentle fingers through my fur.

As I entered the pack’s farmland, I felt the strong tug of magical wards. The familiar pull of our land, our territory, and my pack. I turned right, and took the path leading down to the gun range.

The faint, yet sharp smell of cordite hung in the air from target shooting a day ago. The whole idea of using weapons was still felt foreign to me.

After we saw how silver rounds worked on the deadly menace Geoff became, we setup the range. The pack security team and I obtained our firearms acquisition permits. Once we possessed the right paperwork, target practice began, and it turned out I wasn’t a bad shot. If it were only for hunting with a rifle, it would be fine, but the alphas and I recognized we needed to step up our game.

We now know there are dangerous, otherworldly things we need to protect our pack from. Things which required more than claws, teeth, and cunning.

You can never ignore a threat, Ben Case said.

Our farm manager was right. If it happened once, it could happen again. The cave on Mount Tzouhalem contained only one of these dangers.

To achieve our goals, my team required serious and intensive training. Both to understand how to deal with any future threats and to teach the skills to other pack members.

How could I supervise the security team if I was having doubts about my ability? I needed to get over what happened with Geoff and get on with the job, for everyone’s safety.

A left turn brought me to the target butts. I ran along the fifty feet from the butts to the firing point, setup and ready for the start of training tomorrow.

As I traveled the length of the tree-lined range I dropped down to a trot. When I came out from behind the observation post, the slight breeze was behind me. I leapt over the barricades and landed with my nose pointing north. That was when I caught an unfamiliar scent on the night air.

A huge, coal-black wolf stepped out of the shadows from a copse of trees, not twenty feet away.

I stopped dead and stared hard at him. A growl rippled out of my throat. The strange wolf startled me a bit, but I maintained control of myself and didn’t automatically lunge at him.

His golden eyes glinted back at me as he watched me silently.

I drop my head and bared my teeth as another deep growl emitted from my thick timber wolf throat. Instinctively, my hackles rose as his musk drifted over to me, invading my nose. He was not pack. He isn’t one of mine, and he is in my territory.

I charged.

It didn’t matter to me the male was bigger, broader, or more heavily muscled. I slammed into him and knocked him back a foot.

My claws dug in, I spun around, and ran at him again. I slammed into him harder, and this time he went down. I knew he let me knock him to the ground, but unless he planned to challenge me, he had to submit, and it was my right to make him.

The big black beast folded his legs and rolled onto his belly. His jaws parted and he flashed his teeth, like he was laughing at me. The male stretched out to his full length, and rolled onto his back, with his tongue lulling, and exposed his underside to me.

I narrowed my eyes at this insolent ass insulting me. He would regret not taking me seriously. Muscles coiled, I sprang, and landed on top of him with a snarl. I grabbed his throat between my teeth. I gripped the flesh harder than was necessary as my claws sank into his hide. He stiffened as his mood abruptly sobered.

A long, deep warning emitted from low in my throat. I put all my pent up emotions into it as I kept up the pressure and waited. He stilled completely, it was his choice, and he knew I was serious. Finally, he whined an acceptance.

With a last growl, I released his throat and stepped off him.

The wolf shifted into his human form and he slowly stood, rubbing at his corded neck. You play rough. His tone mocked me as his smile widen.

From the burgeoning moon, it was clear he was a large man, over six feet with a broad chest, and powerful arms. I couldn’t make out the shade of his eyes in the dim light, but I could see the sparkle of mirth in their depths. His riot of red hair stood out from his head with a matching beard brushing his broad hairy chest. I tracked a line of darker hair down his body, but cut my examination short of the goods. I didn’t want to be distracted. Even in his human shape, the male looked wild.

My magic drained away as I shifted back into my human form.

A few feet back from the male, I stood on human legs. The distance would give me a chance to react if I were forced to kick the crap out of him in my human shape or shift to my wolf.

Who are you and what are you doing on VIC pack land? I demanded.

Being accosted by a beautiful she-wolf, apparently, he said in a cheerful, pleasant tone, clearly enjoying himself. He spread his hands to show he offered me no harm, but there were all kinds of dangerous. I didn’t know this wolf, I couldn’t trust him.

His light accent tickled my ear, but I couldn’t identify its origin. His grin stayed in place as he cautiously stepped toward me.

I couldn’t back away. I couldn’t act submissive and let him see he intimidated me. It was an alpha wolf thing. I didn’t run our pack, but I held a position that demanded respect and, by God, this wolf would comply.

The male’s closer proximity allowed me to inhale his scent. His aroma made me want to breathe in deep, he smelled amazing. His scent waged war on me and I struggled to control my wolf. She wanted to be let loose, but I pushed her urging aside. I must maintain control.

Answer the question, I bit out. My anger—mostly directed at myself for my reaction—dripped from my word, but I couldn’t help it. My lack of control bothered me even more.

Absolutely, my dove. He took another slow step forward. Deliberately, he closed the distance between us. I’m Zavier Koering, I work for SPS. I’m here to teach your weapons course. He watched me intently, like he knew my deepest secrets and merely waited for me to confirm them. I’m a friend of Will Conall and Helly Cooper. But you, my dove, you may call me Zav. His eyes traveled over me suggestively and he missed nothing.

Heat bloomed in my checks at his intense scrutiny. I am not your ‘dove.’ Whatever that meant. You weren’t supposed to be here until tomorrow morning, I said tersely. And stop staring. Shapeshifters usually show better manners.

You are so beautiful, I can’t help myself. And I am not like most shapeshifters.

How did I know he would say that?

He took another step forward.

It’s abundantly obvious you’re not, I said dryly and as the words left my mouth, I wanted to bite them back.

I’m glad you agree. Koering’s chuckle, self-satisfied and he paced closer still.

What are you doing out here in the middle of the night? I diverted the conversation, hanging on to my patience by a mere thread.

I am checking out the lay of the land and the facilities before I start the course tomorrow. He arched one copper eyebrow at me as he came to stand directly in front of me. What’s your name?

Lottie Fistbinder, head of pack security. I folded my arms across my chest and used my best glower on him.

Ah, I hoped you might be. It is an immense pleasure to meet you. If anything, his smile grew more wolfish. Lottie is short for Charlotte? Yes? He stood only inches away from me now, and I could feel the heat radiating off his skin. His scent surrounded me. I’d never encountered a male who smelled this tantalizing in my life.

Uh oh. My wolf pushed against my consciousness, but I ignored her. In a situation like this, it was more important for my brain to stay in charge and run this exchange, not my instinct and hormones.

Yes, but everyone calls me Lottie.

Must I remind you, I am not everyone? Koering’s lips parted in a flash of white teeth. He slowly raised his right hand, as his eyes locked on mine. Koering’s open hand inched slowly toward me. He ran one finger over my skin, along my collarbone to my shoulder.

The shock of his touch and the feelings the contact triggered made me jump back. Keep your hands to yourself unless invited.

But will you, Charlotte? Will you invite me?

Depends, I said as I narrowed my eyes and blatantly looked him up and down. I could see he relaxed his guard, confident of his effect on me, conceited even.

I lashed out with my right foot and swept his feet out from under him, he never saw it coming.

Koering landed hard on his butt. Dust and the fragrance of crushed vegetation filled the air.

I looked down at him with one eyebrow raised. It depends on whether you respect me or not.

For his part, Koering frowned up at me from his seat on the crushed ferns. Charlotte, of course, I respect you, I could never mate a woman I didn’t respect.

My jaw dropped as I blinked in shock at his words. Weirdly, he sounded sincere. What was it with this guy?

What are you talking about? I finally managed to get out.

Instead of words, he replied with a lunge at me. Before I could react, he grabbed my leg behind my right knee and the leg collapsed. I staggered forward and Koering pulled me down on top of him.

Skin to skin.

I inhaled to respond to this attack, but before I could snarl one word at him. His firm, warm lips covered mine and he rolled us over, his larger frame pressed me into the bed of ferns.

Caught off guard, my wolf took over. Maybe because I’d never experienced attention from a male like this—ever.

Lips parting, I clutched his broad shoulders, and I allowed this strange, attractive man to kiss me. And heaven help me, I kissed him right back.

Sensations I’d never experienced before flooded through me. His hot mouth made my lips part farther, and allowed his tongue to tease mine. He tasted incredible.

Koering broke the kiss after several moments of heated contact. His chest pressed against my breasts, as out of breath and excited as I was. The movement caused all sorts of interesting sensations to course through me.

His lips curved into a smug, knowing smile. Say you want me, my dove, he teased arrogantly. And his arrogant words killed it.

Excited by his scent and the physical contact of his body my wolf wanted to submit. His kiss and the touch of his hands on my skin stirred things I never knew I could feel. I was so tempted to let the sensation take me over, to give in completely.

I’d experienced my share of play, but nothing made me feel even remotely close to this before, and I felt a tumble of emotions—fear, desire, and a touch of annoyance. My human side needed to be the side which ruled me. Anger flared and I couldn’t help what came out of my mouth.

What I would say, is this attitude is an abuse of authority on your part. I tried to sound cool and detached but in truth, I was burning up with a combination of anger, frustration, and reaction. You’ll be leading the instruction and exercises tomorrow, in a position of authority? Misuse of power isn’t something we tolerate here, in our pack.

His eyes opened wider in surprise. I guess this wasn’t the usual response he got. He swiftly climbed to his feet and leaned down to offer me a hand. When I took it, his fingers closed over mine and the contact felt unbelievably right. I really needed to get a grip on myself.

This is true, my beauty, Zavier nodded with a slight smile. He trailed his fingertips down my neck causing me to shiver. But it doesn’t change the fact you will be my mate.

I started to laugh. Yes, he kissed the begeezus out of me and I liked it. Hey, I was only flesh and blood and magic, but there was a line I couldn’t allow