Curves & Alphas: A Paranormal Box Set: (BBW Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance) (12 page)

“Can we go now?” she asked with a sigh, no longer even attempting to hide the irritation that gave a high pitch to her sultry voice.

“Of course. I’m so sorry. I’m a horrible friend. I really don’t know what’s gotten into me,” I apologized, meaning every word.

“Oh, I do. I know exactly what’s gotten into you, a big dick. And, if this is the way you are going to react, then I think I’m going to make it my mission to get you laid more often. Maybe I can desensitize you a bit. You can’t let a good lay run your life. It isn’t healthy for any sort of relationship,” she counseled, her words having gone from short and curt to more mellow as she’d ranted.

I couldn’t tell her that it was so much more than a good screw. Yes, I wanted to see Lex again. He’d touched me in a way that had been much, much more than just fantastic sex. Sure, that helped, but it wasn’t all there was to this matter. And, if I seemed insane, and I did, even to me, I’d been mugged and seen my wolf spirit on top of spilling my life story to a stranger. Personally, I thought I deserved a few days, or a few weeks at this point, of acting a little crazy.

I could share none of that with her, though. So, if she didn’t have me committed before this was all over, I’d have to thank her fully for it all one day soon. Maybe I would even do so with a few confessions. Although, if at this point I told her about my writing or my wolf, she might just have been pissed that I’d kept it all from her for this long. I’d have to wait and see. For the moment, I gave her a quick, hard squeeze with the whisper of my sincerest, yet shortest, apology. We were still in a parking lot.

I wanted to go home now. I planned on doing some more in-depth research on wolf spirit guides. I wanted to know more. I wanted to read stories, true stories, of others who had encountered theirs. Maybe now I could identify with more of them. If I got lucky, that ‘more’ would offer further explanation as to the interaction I’d had with mine recently. I didn’t remember ever reading where a wolf spirit had mauled an attacker. Maybe I just hadn’t been looking, though. I would now.

With my heart beating so hard in my chest that it rang in my ears, I followed Chloe to the car. I figured that once I got home, I could take my laptop outside on the balcony, and read and watch for a possible second showing of my wolf tonight.

Chapter Seven

Once at home, I made short work of changing into my pajamas and setting myself up with my laptop on the balcony. Cuddled in my old throw with a large mug of caffeine, I settled in to do some work. I played the usual games with the search engines, trying with keywords to get them to come up with what I wanted. I swore sometimes that Google and me spoke different languages. I wasn’t looking to make reservations to stay at some wolf lodge in the state of Ohio, not any more than I was looking to weigh in on the subject of an afterlife for animals.

Luckily, no porn came up this time. Although, I did get the usual ads about singles looking to meet me in my area. So stupid. I usually ignored such crap, but tonight I glanced to see, to prove to myself, for some inexplicable reason, that none of them held a candle to my Lex. They didn’t. Fortunately, I didn’t have to wade through too much of that kind of stuff to stumble upon some stories. Some I’d read before, but I considered myself fortunate enough tonight to find a few new ones, too.

A common theme among the stories seemed to be that they had been interested in wolves their whole lives. I thought back, but I couldn’t deem my interest in them as a kid as anything more than the fact that they looked like wild dogs to me. I’d been obsessed with dogs. Might have had something to do with the fact that I’d never owned one. My mother had been allergic. After she’d passed, I wouldn’t have asked my father to have to care for anything else. Even though I could have cared for it on my own, that’s what he would have said right after ‘no’, and I had enough to think about anyway. By the time I got my own place, I only moved into this apartment, and it had strict rules against pets.

After I first started seeing my wolf in dreams, though, I became interested, of course, but I wouldn’t call it an obsession even then. When something keeps reoccurring in your life, you eventually look into it. I chalked up my failure to have this original interest to the childhood I’d had. I’d had a lacking in my life since I was ten and my mother had fallen sick. That, of course, was the same year my wolf showed up, that I can remember at least. Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt, of having missed something very important by being wrapped up in my own dilemmas.

I’d had no so-called spiritual connection with wolves, not as so many others claimed to have, nor had I had an incident involving real wolves. One woman had met a real wolf in a parking lot as a child. Another had gotten lost in the woods, running into a pack pf timber wolves who stayed with her until help had arrived. Many were of Native American descent, too, so I just seemed to lack the right characteristics all the way around.

I actually wanted for similar experiences, more so as I read. One girl had grown up with her wolf, it being young when she was, and growing up into an adult at the same time. She’d had a psychic connection with her white wolf, able to read its thoughts, learn what she needed to about life from him. Another common theme, though this one I could relate to, was the wolf showing up during a hard time in life. As well, they locked eyes with the animal and felt it had something to tell them.

I still would swear, tonight, that when I saw my wolf, that the wash of feeling over me was not mine, but his. I hadn’t been feeling anything like that mix of love and anger; that couldn’t be explained. Could an animal be mad that it loved me? If that were the case, what did that say about me? I had to be mistaken. There had been times in my life that I’d chalked up to some misguided intuition as writer’s brain, the need to create stories where there weren’t any.  I did that on a regular basis, anyway, people watching and writing the stories of their lives being a prime example. Sometimes I did that in bars to pass the time. I should have thought of that this weekend, but I’d been too focused, preoccupied more like it, on seeing Lex walk in. So focused, in fact, that you’d have thought I’d have willed it into being.

I wondered why I’d always referred to my wolf as a he, but I just somehow knew. I’d never questioned it. Not that I had ever gotten a glimpse to tell, but when my wolf spirit was near, the presence felt tough, dominant, alpha, masculine. A primitive strength of stature... the way I sensed that he sat there, physically able to control any situation, to be able to find that last ounce of power deep within his being if it was needed to win.

Come to think of it, I’d never felt any real emotions from my wolf spirit, and that was another reason I’d always assumed a male, or imagined it male. There’s never been a rush of emotions like tonight. In the study of masculinity, the rationalization and or suppression of emotions was deemed a prominent characteristic. I was overthinking it all, though. Even tonight, emotions or not, my wolf still felt male. I couldn’t not wonder, though, what had changed that had allowed me to feel them, him or me?

I sat up straight and adjusted myself, along with my computer on my lap, when I read a link that claimed to help you prepare for your journey to meet your spirit guide. I wondered if there was something more I could do to call the animal to me. It stated rather firmly at the top of the page, in all caps bold print, that the animal chooses you and not the other way around. I’d already been chosen. Now, I just wanted to be able to communicate better with my wolf, and at times of my own choosing. The idea of it fluttered in my chest. You’d think I was overly caffeinated the way my pulse raced. My eyes flew over the words on the pages, a fight between racing through the information and actually absorbing it.

The website spoke of finding a quiet place without interruption or distraction. Right now, I was my own worst distraction. I’d have to work hard on calming my mind. But, I couldn’t think of a better place than my balcony at two o’clock in the morning to find solitude outside. Sure, a car or person moved about in the parking lot from time to time, but this was New York, so that was about as peaceful as it got outdoors. I felt the need to do the ceremony outside this first time, to be as close to the wolf as possible. I’d take any extra edge I could get.

Next, it said to draw a circle to sit in with a sacred medicine. I didn’t have sweet grass or cedar on hand. Heck, I didn’t even have sage to cook with, though I figured they meant the whole leaf rather than the dry powder kind anyway. What I did have was tobacco, even if in a chemical-ridden form.

I had a friend down the hall who smoked. Stars aligned in my favor and all, she’d left her pack of smokes here the other night when she’d stopped by to chat, as she did about once a week. I’d gotten the idea she was lonely, new here in the city just a few months, and I enjoyed the company from time to time. Desperate for anything even close to a sacred medicine at this point, I went to get the pack I’d left on the counter in the kitchen. Better that than nothing. I broke a few open into a cereal bowl. Back out on the balcony, I made a small circle with the dried tobacco, just big enough to fit my body in, right at my sliding glass door. I figured sitting there gave me the least chance of being noticed.

Sitting in the circle in a meditative pose, I started the deep breathing exercises. Not a yoga enthusiast, I managed to make myself lightheaded as I pulled air into my stomach and let it out slowly. Somewhat of a rush, but still I focused on the task of clearing my mind.

Not an easy task, I attempted to see only black, to stop any thoughts. My wolf tonight, the full body image of him standing there, his head turned back to look at me, I dismissed with some difficulty. The computer screen full of words about the ceremony replaced that, and I pushed it from my mind, as well. Feeling accomplished, clearer, more relaxed, an image of a stark naked Lex, his cock at full attention, bullied its way into my emptiness.

Turning my groan into an
om
sound, I rolled my shoulders back down and tried to think of the color black. It matched the bit of sadness that had crept into my peace anyway. Getting as good as it was going to get as far as being relaxed and clear-headed, I pictured my wolf in my mind. Each time the jittery feelings of excitement or fear took over my body, I concentrated harder on the breathing. Pushing out my full stomach, I pulled air in. Sucking my stomach back in, I let the air out. I wouldn’t have been surprised if I’d passed out. Instead, I rode the odd sensations, getting my wolf clearly in my mind. The golden eyes became clear, as if in my mind. I shivered. The black hair riddled with a grey or silver-ish undercoat took form in my brain, went from fuzzy to crystal clear.   His large paws, houses to sharp claws, focused.

I called to him then, practically begged him to come to me. Over and over again, I asked for him. In my mind, I told the broad, bold image how much I needed him. I pleaded that I wouldn’t fear him. I peeked out of one eye, but saw nothing on my balcony save my chair. Still with just one eye open, I stretched to look over the edge, and saw only cars and a dumpster.

Trying again, I side-stepped pleading in favor of a healthy dose of reasoning. I told him with just my thoughts why I needed him, why I wanted so badly to know him better.  I acknowledged how privileged I felt to have had him in my life all these years, and I thanked him for his faithful service. A presence made me open my eyes. I blinked a few times, making sure what I saw wasn’t a figment of my imagination. At the back of the parking lot, at the start of the fence, just inside the shadow of the corner, stood my wolf.

The eyes, so gold, locked with mine. I grabbed the leg of the chair I sat next to for support. My heart thumped in my chest, and my erratic breaths burned my lungs. Somewhere in my mind, a plea for him, asking him to come closer to me, rang out. At this point, tiny sparks of pain fired off randomly in my skull. Desperate need could be painful, and I’d been there far too many times in life to care about the physical affliction of it. Who knew if the need was his or mine? At this particular moment, I’d have claimed us to be two halves of the same whole.

Calm,
came a thought into my mind.

I hadn’t thought it. The whole resonance of the word seemed foreign, yet familiar. Yes, I’d heard the voice in my dreams. My wolf.

Please, come closer,
I asked again with the voice I gave rise to in my head, attempting and failing miserably at taking the desperation from the thought I threw out there.

I’m as close as I dare,
came a reply. Still, the streaks of pain, the start of a migraine, threatened all the more with each word I heard from him in my mind.

You wouldn’t hurt me. I’m sure of that now
, I offered.

No, I wouldn’t, couldn’t…
His thought fell away, shrouded by a dark bout of anger. It seized me, boiled up from deep within to become the tremble of hot rage in the pit of my stomach. My shoulders tensed to the point of pain, as well. I refused to curl up in a ball, though, or even wince, lest he leave.

Before I could think of anything else, I heard,
I’m so sorry. I’d protect you at any cost.

Letting the implication of these words settle, I strained to see him. I couldn’t deny his massive size, much bigger than any wolf I’d ever seen before. The muscles that bulged under the dark, peppered fur on his legs, all four of them, mesmerized me. While the hair bristled over his neck, his face, his muzzle stayed slack. He showed no teeth. His eyes, the ones that had yet to look away from mine... in them, I saw sympathy and pain rather than malice.

Beauty failed to describe this animal, beast but protector. Even with the proof in front of my eyes that he’d probably killed, for me, I couldn’t find an ounce of fear. Rather, I yearned, and my skin ached, to curl up with him as I had in my dreams when I’d been a girl. Maybe I’d accounted for the massive size of him, as the dreams happened more when I’d been young. As I’d grown, maybe around sixteen or so, he’d started to appear in reality more than in a dreamscape. I’d figured I’d just outgrown the need to be cradled at the time. In my yearning for womanhood and independence, I’d found comfort in the thought.

Who was I kidding, though... who outgrew the need to be held at night? Certainly not me. Guess it took a certain amount of maturity to see that, at least. With my thoughts running rampant, unbidden and uncontrolled in my frazzled brain, the wolf cocked his head from side to side like a dog would when you talked to them.

Loneliness settled over me like the chill in the night air. I pulled my robe around me tighter. The wolf hung his head. The arch of his back exaggerated the way his tail hung, full and heavy, weighted by his own emotions. How had I once thought him incapable of feelings? I wanted to run my hands through his shiny, soft fur. I wanted to hug him and never let go. I needed a fantasy world rather than a real one for a time. I sighed and the animal shook his head.

He turned then, as if to walk away. Nothing about his stance looked fierce or predatory, aside from sheer size.

No, don’t leave me,
I begged.