josh
Wow.
Allora SanDiir.
Wow.
The moment I got out of the car, her scent hit me like a brick wall. Light, floral and utterly delicious, she was like a rare flower blooming in a barren field. I knew from the moment her scent wafted through my nostrils that she needed to be mine.
And acknowledging that was terrifying.
As she walked through the woods towards me, panic rose in my chest. This should not happen. I went back to DownMoor through the caves. I was only here for one reason: to prevent any of my family's dark secrets from being brought to the surface once more, to ensure that my father could rest in peace without the past being re-evaluated. And now that the discovery of the site was made public, there was also the possibility that some other wolf would show up here, eager to claim my family's old territories. I had to be on guard. There could be no distractions.
As I watched her nervously bite her lower lip, my cock springing to life, I knew Allora SanDiir would be a huge distraction.
This can not be happening.
I had it all planned out. I made up a story about a robbery to induce the last ranger to resign. I managed to flirt during the job interview with Bev, the fifty-something ranger with hair like burnt straw, and I landed the job as the new ranger for DownMoor Forest, overseeing the archaeological digs. All I had to do was sneak into the cave at night, find the paintings, destroy them, and check that there were no other wolves in the area. Then I could go back to the jungle and mourn in peace.
I could never have predicted that my mate would also be here. And now here she was—the woman I was destined for, the woman my body already ached for—offering me a muddy hand to shake.
I didn't dare accept. The air between us was already vibrating with electricity—with the obvious, inescapable force that drew me to her. My veins rose with heat, and the wolf inside me pressed against my skin, threatening at any moment to erupt and claim its mate. If our skin touched, I couldn't guarantee that I'd be able to control myself, I would jump on the young archaeologist and pin her against a tree before I even said, "Hello, the weather is awful isn't it?" It would be considered a bit rude. Then I looked at her hand, and she retracted it.
My rudeness pissed her off, and her pretty face tightened into a grim expression, her fluffy nostrils flaring with anger. God, that was sexy.
Mental note, make her angry again.
She was trying to take me to camp, but I knew I needed to see the cave first, get my scent there, so no more wolves would show up trying to claim it as their own. Also, I wanted to see if it still matched my dad's description.
Allora pointed to the entrance. It was small, barely enough room for me to move my shoulders. This made perfect sense as it meant only one wolf could enter or leave at a time. This facilitated protection against war packs. Sadly, it didn't save my father's family from a terrible death.
I was hoping Allora would catch a glimpse of the breach first so I could watch her beautiful ass slide into that dark hole. But she stayed behind, waiting for me. I shoved my legs through the hole and slid down.
Inside, the cave was surprisingly bright. Spotlights illuminated the work area's raised floor, cables extending through a smaller hole in the ceiling and connecting to the solar panels I noticed resting against the rocky ledge outside. The light glinted off the shallow pool of water at my feet, a small river running through the entrance and deeper into the cave.
I looked around, taking it all in. The cave floor, the vaulted room, the small river by the door. It was just like my dad said it was...
I lifted my nose in the air and sniffed. A hundred snippets of scent wafted through my nostrils, mostly the scent of mice and foxes and other small animals that made their home here. The distinct scent of another wolf was absent. Well, I was the first one here. Fortunately, there wouldn't be others.
As I waded through the shallow river, I lifted my arm, rubbing my armpit as casually as possible over the rocks. I noticed that one of the stalactites in the cluster near the entrance had been damaged. A shiver of anger ripped through my body. Archaeologists irritated me so much. They were all interested in evidence of human achievement, human beauty, human triumph. Meanwhile, they roamed through beautiful natural landscapes, destroying things that took thousands of years to form without a second thought.
I spoke briefly with Frances Doyle, the lead archaeologist. She was irritated by my presence. She wasn't wearing her helmet, which made me make a mental note to warn her later. In fact, out of the entire team, only Allora was wearing the correct safety gear. His helmet looked adorable perched on top of his head.
Even as I was standing in my ancestors' home, a place we'd long thought buried and hidden forever, I struggled to focus when I became aware of Allora SanDiir behind me, her breathing soft, her teeth biting the edge of her lip, the shape of her breasts through the wet fabric of her blouse…
My blood ran hot, my entire body desperate to claim her. How was I going to survive sharing a camp with her? I've been here five minutes and I'm already imagining what she'd look like rolling around naked in the mud while taking it...
No. Focus, Josh. You're not here looking for a mate. You are here for your father.
My father. The pain of his loss temporarily chilled my blood. It had only been a month since he died, and I still couldn't believe he was really gone. My whole life it had been just the two of us. I wanted to talk to him, get his opinion on what I should do about Allora, but he would never again give me his wisdom.
Through the haze of my thoughts, I heard Frances order Allora to take me back to camp and light the kettle. Good. Maybe I can get my thoughts in order out of this place. This time, Allora led the way out of the cave. I climbed up after her with as much dignity as I could muster, deliberately running my palm along the cavern wall, smearing a trail of scent that should have stopped any other wolves from approaching.
Allora walked in front of me, her sensual ass swaying seductively, even in her mud-covered overalls. She must be feeling the effects of the attraction too. I noticed with an inconsiderable amount of glee that she was looking over her shoulder at me. She was staring at me so intently that she hit a tree and landed in the mud.
She looked miserable sitting in that puddle in the pouring rain, her overalls bunched around her boots. I wanted desperately to help her and wipe all the mud off her ass with my hand, but I knew that if I touched her, I would be claiming her as mine. And as tempting as she was, I couldn't do that. She was perfect, and I was a broken, damaged man, carrying secrets that would chill your soul.
If only I could make my body see that. It would be very, very difficult to keep my mind on the task at hand.
An hour later, I was lying on my inflatable mattress, my stomach growling and a pile of field notes on my chest that I should have been studying. But instead I was looking at the ceiling and thinking about Allora.
I was rude to her in the trailer when she offered me tea. I was even more rude trying to get information from her about the site. I even flirted with her a bit, just to see how she would react. Surely, she must feel the same energy between us, the same deadly attraction.
Well, Allora might be my mate, but she certainly didn't know it. She was a shy little thing, always biting her lip instead of saying what was on her mind. Normally, I would never be interested in a girl like that, so eager to please, so desperate to be loved that she never disagreed with anyone. I could tell she wanted to tell me to fuck myself with my attitude, or fuck her with my cock. But instead, she apologized.
And then, when I cornered her about her bracelet, she burst into tears and ran away. The pain in his eyes as he placed his hand on the silver band destroyed me. Something had hurt her badly, and it had to do with that bracelet. And, like an idiot, I had forced the issue.
This will never work, I told my brain. I don't want to be with anyone, least of all a shy archaeologist. I've been alone my whole life, and that's the way it has to be. I have my own pain to deal with. I do not need anyone else.
You're an idiot, my brain whispered back. Maybe she's just what you need.
**
Professor Doyle made a dinner of stew and potatoes. The stew burned to the bottom of the pot and tasted mostly like charcoal. The potatoes were so lumpy they could spell DON'T EAT ME in braille. The team ate in silence, although it was clear on their faces that this was the kind of meal I could look forward to while I was there.
After dinner, Frances delivered drinks from the fridge and each person settled into their own activities. I hoped this was my chance to talk to Allora and apologize for disturbing her, but just as I was about to move, Ruth sat down next to me and shoved a beer under my nose.
"I'm so passionate about sustainability," she said, pouring her cider into a disposable coffee cup, which would release enough methane into the atmosphere during its inevitable trip to the bottom of a landfill to turn the ozone layer around your stupid head into a napkin.
I drowned my scorn and spoke to Ruth politely, listening with half an ear as she rattled on about the Save the Whales project she was involved in at university. My eyes remained fixed on Allora, who was sitting at the far end of the trailer, under the window, taking small sips of beer while burying her face in a science fiction novel. She wore a pair of reading glasses that made her hazel eyes look even bigger.
— …and raised enough money to pay for fuel on a whale support boat…
“Excuse me,” I cut Ruth off mid-sentence as I got up and walked over to where Allora was sitting. Max looked up from the game he was playing with Frances and shot me a horrified look that clearly implied what he thought of my decision.
- Can I? I gestured to the space beside her.
“It's a free country,” she replied. Her cheeks turned red as I flopped down next to her, close enough to breathe in her intoxicating scent but not close enough for us to actually touch. She put her glasses on her nose and continued to look at the page.
"Are you reading Heinlein?" I looked at the title of her book. "A stranger in a strange land". A lump rose in my throat as I read the title. This had been one of Dad's favorite books.
Allora nodded.
“Rereading, actually. I love all of the Heinlein stories. She blushed even deeper, as if she'd revealed some deep personal secret.
"Me too," I said. The electricity between us surged, pulling me toward her like two opposing charges. — I love the way Heinlen uses Smith's character to force the reader to see his own prejudices.
She nodded, fingers tracing the edge of the page.
- Exactly. I first read this book when I was fourteen. Every few years I reread it. And I can always see something different. That's what I love about Heinlen. People think the book is about Heinlen presenting his ideal world in the form of Smith's religion, but it's not like that at all. He is inviting you to think, not to believe.
“Yes, that's exactly it. That was very insightful. What other authors do you like?
“Oh, several. She looked at me then. Her eyes sparkled as she spoke. “I've read all the classic science fiction authors, of course. Asimov, HG Wells, Frank Herbert. I especially love science fiction when it intersects with horror.
"So you're a big Lovecraft fan?"
- Definitely. A thousand times more Cthulhu than any shining vampire. - She smiled. — I like some fantasy books. Writers like Laurell K. Hamilton and Patricia Briggs, who take ancient legends like vampires and werewolves and bring them to the contemporary world. There's this amazing author called SC Green who wrote these dark steampunk books set in dinosaur-infested Georgian London. My friend Derek referred me. He is always giving me new books to read. He's studying mythology, so he likes that sort of thing.
— What is your favorite creature?
"Werewolves," she said instantly. “I love how primal and protective they are. Werewolves are family focused. I absolutely love it.
You have no idea, I thought sadly, marveling at the fate of this conversation. I pointed to the crumpled cover of the book.
— So you've had this book since you were fourteen?
Allora shook her head.
'I bought this copy from a used bookstore in DownMoor. My father gave me a beautiful hardcover copy for my fourteenth birthday. But I wouldn't bring it somewhere. My books are precious, especially my father's.
“A woman who speaks to my heart.
She smiled then, a genuine smile that made my heart flutter against my stomach.
- Oh yes?
"I have a little cabin in Sherwood Forest," I explained. “I go there when I'm not working. It's very small and very basic. There is no cell reception and you have to shower in a small stream outside. But I keep all my books there.
In my head, I pictured her sitting next to me in front of the fire, her feet on my knees as she leaned back on the sofa, a book open on her lap, those adorable glasses on her nose.
I haven't been back to the cabin since Dad died. Everything there carried its perfume, its unmistakable presence. I couldn't face being there alone. But the idea of Allora being there with me made a return trip feel instantly palatable. The things we could do on that river…