Ghost Wolf

Painted Hearts Publishing

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 119,885
1 Ratings (2.0)

Hi, my name is Trevor. I’m a wolf shifter.

I say that like I know what I’m talking about. I don’t. I was simply running off a ton of steam one day when I was around eleven and bam! Okay, not quite that easy or fast but it happened when I was young and stupid. I’m also gay. I say that like I know what I’m talking about with that too. I simply don’t.

I’m grown up now and living in the big city which has me too busy to much care about either one of those things. I get out and run my wolf when I can, trying like hell to stay out of the local pack’s territories. Belonging to a “family” just sounds like too much work, and honestly I don’t have time for such things. Besides, I was told when I was young the color of my wolf was all wrong. Too silver...or something. Metallic. I kinda thought it looked cool in the full moon. “Pack Alpha would kill ya soon as look at ya.” My grandpa used to say. Course he wasn't my real grandpa. Just an old man who lived down the street, but he was a shifter too and I thought he knew it all. He probably knew diddly either, but a guy can’t be too careful. And romance? Way off the radar.

Only now someone has started killing wolves. Started leaving broken bodies lined up in a nice little row next to the high school in my home town and it's got me to thinking. If a shifter is killed in his or her wolf state, do they stay that way? Were these dead wolves like me? The hell of it all is this: being a shifter isn't common knowledge. It bothers me enough that now I want to find out more. See if there's anything I can do. Kind of like a super hero.

Oh yeah. Probably forgot to tell you this too. I can turn invisible.

Yep, Ghost Wolf to the rescue.

Ghost Wolf
1 Ratings (2.0)

Ghost Wolf

Painted Hearts Publishing

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 119,885
1 Ratings (2.0)
In Bookshelf
In Cart
In Wish List
Available formats
ePub
Mobi
PDF
Mobi
ePub
PDF
Excerpt

I was going to find somewhere safe to shift and run.
The next day my Strategic Management and Planning class went long and, the only other class I had that day, Business Law, the professor was a half hour late. I had to leave half way through his lecture in order to get to work on time. Then the supervisor, Mitch, dumped all the stand-bys on me and still expected me to answer calls. By time I got home I was already exhausted and the need to run was stronger than ever.
Buses, my main mode of transportation, went just about everywhere. I had studied the schedule along with a map before going to bed and thought I found a fairly good place to try. It was north of the city in a suburb called North Valley which had an expanse of forest that belonged to the state. It didn’t mean there were no wolves but at least there might be an argument the place didn’t belong to anyone in particular. Yeah, a weak argument, I know, but I really just needed to let my small pathetic little wolf out for a while without concern of discovery. The only thing was, this time I wouldn’t go peeing up the place. Plus, the fact I would be taking a bus to and from the woods, there would be no way to track me.
Totally wrong.
Why I thought I was safe was beyond me. All I thought about was getting free again, on all fours, running like the wind. I didn’t see him. I didn’t even smell him, not at first, not until it was too late. I felt the wind rushing at me before the jolt to my flank knocked me off balance. Suddenly I was rolling being tangled up in legs that were not my own. When the world stopped spinning I found myself pinned under a heavy body, a muzzle with sharp teeth drawn tight on my exposed neck. I had crazy visions of the animal weighing me down simply ripping out my throat but precious long seconds ticked by as I felt hot breath wash over my turned muzzle and neither one of us moved. We merely breathed.
I shifted. It wasn’t a conscious action. I think I did it out of self-defense. I would be bigger than the animal, maybe be able to scare it away. But now I was just a naked skinny man underneath a heaving dark gray wolf who was drawing blood from his hold on my neck. Suddenly the teeth were gone. I felt a rough lick and the animal forcing me into the forest floor shifted too.
Well, fuck me silly. Another shifter.
Who would now probably kill me.
He was beautiful. Large with longer, dark hair that hung in his eyes as he stared down at me. Those eyes were blue, too, though not as bright as Ryan’s. He had the beginnings of stubble which only gave him a fiercer appearance. My gaze wandered down to take in what I could see of his chiseled chest. All ripped muscles and tanned magnificence. I couldn’t see his hands which were holding my wrists at the moment but I could tell they were not average size. I swallowed hard as I let my contemplation come back up to his face.
“What are you doing here?” The guy asked. “This is private property and I don’t know you.”
“I…” Fuck. He was mad. Just like I thought. What the hell was I going to say? “I…didn’t know…I...I thought these…were state lands…” Yep. Sounded just as weak an excuse out loud as it did in my head.
“What the fuck difference does that make? You’re a fucking shifter and these are my woods.” He looked up and around. “Where’s the rest of you?”
Shit. Here it came. You don’t have a pack? Off with his head! “I… my name is…Trevor. My name is Trevor Taland.…”
He glared back down at me with what appeared to be confusion. “Taland? What kind of name is that?” He looked pissed as hell, like he would just as soon kill me than talk to me but held me in such a way that didn’t hurt me, to the point of almost being gentle. Even so, there was no hope in hell I would be able to escape him. He leaned down, right into my face. “Where’s – your – pack?”
“I’m…I’m alone…” Shit! Exactly what you want to tell some psycho who just happened to be holding you down in the middle of the woods.
He was still for a moment, sweat dripping from the tips of his hair, anger creasing his forehead and flashing in his blue eyes. Then he visibly calmed, the hold on my wrists letting up slightly. Finally, when he sniffed me, the wrinkles on his face loosened and relaxed. In fact, the gaze turned suddenly predatory as he shifted his weight on me. It was then I realized he was naked, too. I felt his manhood jerk and pulse against my stomach. Try as I could though I couldn’t catch sight of it. The man sitting on me chuckled. “Alone, huh? All naked and needy.” He had dropped the tone of his voice to almost a loud gravelly whisper.
Sudden anger flashed in me, enough to blur my vision for a second. “Needy? Me? I’m not needy!”
He laughed. “Look at you. I’m barely holding you down. I’m just sitting on you. It’s obvious you’re weak. Probably an Omega, unmated. Am I right?” He leaned in again, breathing me in. “You need protecting.”
“Omega?”
He smiled. “Bottom of the pack.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Oh shit! An Omega? This guy was telling me he thinks I’m an Omega? I did not want to get fucked by a whole pack of wolves. I started to struggle in earnest now. That slight hold turned to my advantage as I pulled my hands free and pushed the guy off me. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me!” I scooted my bare ass back and away from him. He was lying on his back after having been shoved, propped up on his elbows, looking rather surprised. However, I could not stop my eyes from wandering down to the guy’s very obvious hard-on sticking straight up, thick and bobbing. Shit, that thing was huge. I felt my own cock start to harden, but with the way I had been feeling lately a stiff breeze would have had the same effect. I hoped this guy wasn’t going to get the wrong idea.
Once I moved to the city I figured I didn’t need to hide my sexuality, but I didn’t advertise it either. It was hard to distinguish at times if there was a reason to pursue some hot guy I happened to catch sight of across a room, like a couple of nights ago, which, of course, was exactly the reason I never did. No question here though, the hot guy leaning back on his arms was interested. And me, having had my imagination and my own hand as my only sexual experience, I should be thrilled. But just like with that bartender, nothing clicked. At least the guy seemed to be minus a pack, too. I forced my gaze back up to a smirk on the guy’s face. Was he proud? He probably should be. Mine was nowhere near that size. Neither had Timmy’s been. I licked my suddenly dry lips.
The guy leisurely rose to a sitting position and I think I heard a growl. Seemed to be a lot of that going around. My issue was I had a very real fear my virginity was in danger. Not that I was protecting it or anything. I really wasn’t stupid enough to think there was a Mr. Right out there. But I wanted things to move at a pace I could keep up with. Unfortunately, by the way this guy was looking at me now, like he would eat me for breakfast without a thought about how I would feel after it was all said and done, had me thinking I needed to get the hell out of there.
But he simply sat, was all. He made no move toward me. Although I knew he had seen my “interest” as well.

Read more