Enchanted By The Wolf

She’d initially been shocked after Kir had shifted to werewolf form. Oh, she’d seen werewolves before and had known what they looked like fully shifted, but she’d never stood so close to one before. Or gazed upon his magnificent hard-on. Or, for that matter, touched said hard-on.

Giggling, she flipped on the shower stream, which blasted her from the walls and overhead.

“Yes!” She skipped about within the water, dancing, arms flung out and head back. “It’s like a rain shower. I could so get used to this.”

She unfurled her wings and let the water spill over them, which sent scintillating shivers along the wings and at the muscles and bones where they connected to her spine. She’d worn them out all the time in Faery yet had been warned that in the mortal realm it was not wise, even if she wore glamour.

She’d never been one to follow the rules. Like what was so wrong with biting your new husband if you hungered for a little sip?

Kir had really been angry with her. Justified, coming from a werewolf.

“Too bad,” she sang, opening her mouth to the water stream and spinning. “You’re stuck with me now, wolf. Deal with it!”

Because look at what she had to deal with: hair, hair and more hair. And a tail. And talons that had cut down her thigh when he’d tried to pry her fangs from his neck. She couldn’t blame him for hurting her. It had been a defensive reaction. And the cut had been shallow; it was already healed.

So now she had a shifter husband who— Okay, so he wasn’t ugly in werewolf form, just big and growly and noisy. He was also a bit of a stick-in-the-mud, from what she could divine. Not pleased to be her husband, that was for sure. Something about drawing the short stick.

Yet they had both given their all for the wedding-night sex. Again and again. And while the sex had been great, Bea wondered how long before the luster wore away and she’d be jonesing for a return to Faery. At least there she’d always been able to find a willing bite. And along with that bite had usually been some reasonably satisfying sex.

“Never going to happen.” She switched off the water and shook her wings vigorously. “I’m not going back!”

Because nothing could make her return to Faery, and the tyranny of her father’s reign over her. She was free. As free as she could be considering the mark on the back of her hand that bonded her to a wolf.

And now that she was here, she could begin her mission. To find the mother she had never known.

Jumping out of the shower, she performed a shiver of wings to flick away the wet, sending droplets across the walls and mirror. She twirled and leaned onto the vanity before the mirror. Eyeing the wet faery, she winked at her.

“Aren’t you a sexy chick? You know the wolf wants to eat you up. But he won’t because you’ve got fangs.”

She ran her tongue along one fang that descended to a pointy weapon. In Faery she’d been a pariah. Half-breeds were favored for strengthening and adding genetic powers and attributes to the sidhe lines. But vampires were shunned. Filthy longtooths. They were nothing but scum who liked to feed on faery ichor as their favorite drug. They were disliked almost as much as demons. A half-breed sidhe demon was labeled The Wicked and was the lowest of the low. So she did have that going for her.

“Not quite the dregs of the barrel, are you, Bea?”

She decided her father had had the affair with her mother for the reason she must have been forbidden fruit. Something lesser than Malrick. Dark and forbidden. He’d wanted to try her out. And he’d never let Bea forget that.

But in the mortal realm vampires must hold a certain status. Bea hoped so. Because she was done with the shame and ostracism. She wanted to shine, to grow and finally become the fierce woman with wings and fangs that had been stifled in Faery.

“So long as the hubby doesn’t get in my way, I’ll be golden.”

Winking at her reflection, she rummaged through the vanity drawer and found Kir’s comb. She hadn’t been allowed to bring any of her things to this realm. The comb was not like the crystal prize she’d once owned, but it smelled like him. Woodsy and wild. It would serve until she could go shopping. But to do that she needed mortal money. Of which, she hoped the hubby had a lot.

Her übersexy hubby who really knew how to get right to the point concerning orgasms.

“I hate him so much I can’t wait until he gets home.”

Tossing the comb onto the vanity and skipping down the stairs, she decided to explore, as Kir had suggested. It felt great to walk around skyclad, wings unfurled. She didn’t mind the narrow hallway that bent back her wings as she strode into the kitchen.

The note on the counter detailed a phone number and was signed “Kir.”

“Like he thinks I won’t guess who the note was from? Silly wolf.” Though she traced a finger over the name and lifted the paper to give it a quick kiss. “My hubby.”

Tiptoeing about the vast stone-tiled kitchen, she ran her fingers over the granite countertop, not sensing the energy that she normally felt from stones. But the fieldstones paving the kitchen floor were alive, which lightened her steps as she spun and traced her fingers across the glossy stovetop and the sink. No iron here!

At the icebox, she flung open the door and peered inside. Lots of clear plastic bottles holding energy drinks in various pale colors. Fruits and vegetables. “Go, wolf.” And meat. Sliced, chopped, chunked, shredded and cut. “Blech. My hubby likes to eat things that once had a heartbeat. Bad wolf.” She’d married a carnivore. That would be a new one to deal with.

On the other hand, she couldn’t claim complete vegetarianism. Now that she was in the mortal realm, she’d get the opportunity to feast on mortal blood. And that had a heartbeat. Getting a sip of wolf last night had been like popping her red-blood cherry. Blessed be, he’d tasted good.

And she wanted more.

Plucking out a vine of green grapes, Bea danced through the kitchen and into the next room, which was a cozy living area walled on two sides with books and carpeted in what looked like ancient tapestry. Deeply varnished wood and curvaceous carvings gave the room a medieval appeal. It felt solid and earthy.

“Just like my wolf.”

Sitting on the back of the big leather couch, she tilted back her head and nibbled the grapes from the vine. Toppling, she laughed as her feet went over her head and she tumbled off the sofa and onto the floor. She upset the books stacked on the coffee table, and one landed on a wing.

“Ouch.” She pulled up the heavy book and read the title, Exotic Fantasy Figures.

Inside were gorgeous colored plates featuring fantastical creatures that she felt sure did not exist in the mortal realm or Faery. Though a few depictions were close to some of the sidhe she’d known. The text said they’d been created using a computer. She wasn’t familiar with mortal technology but had learned about computers during her mortal realm lessons. The devices were carriers of information.

She needed to get her fingers all over one of those computers if she was going to track down her mother.

Flinging aside the book to land splayed open, she sprang up and skipped to the floor-to-ceiling window and pressed her nose to the glass. Outside lay a small yard with browning grass and some pitiful flowers.

Bea’s smile wilted. “Poor grass. I’ll have to give you some tender loving care.”

A shed stood at what she guessed was the back of Kir’s property.

“Doesn’t own much land. Hmm...let’s hope that means he put all his money in gold, because this girl needs to do some shopping.”

Popping another grape into her mouth, she twirled and flung out her arms, delighting in the warm sun that shone through the window. She only stopped her dance when she felt the odd sensation that she was not alone.

Standing in the archway between living room and kitchen was her new husband, his mouth hanging open and hands to his hips.

* * *

“What?” Bea pulled a wingtip forward and preened it over her shoulder. “Close your mouth, big boy. You act like you’ve never seen a naked faery before.”

Kir’s astonishment dropped and his eyes crinkled. The man’s gentle laughter scurried over her naked skin like warm summer rain. And she did love to dance in the rain.

“I have some work in the area, so I stopped in to see if you’re doing okay. I guess you are.”

“Peachy! Your shower rocks!”

“It does.” He walked in and picked up the book she’d tossed on the floor, carefully placing it back on the table. “Let me guess. You need clothes.”

“Why?” She propped her hands akimbo. “You got a problem with naked faeries?”

“Uh. No. I don’t think I do.”