Free Beauty and the Brute [Werescape III] by Skhye Moncrief Page B

Orange sunlight burned through the cracks, lighting the space enough for Beauty to wait up here while I
    tucked Trance away for bed.
    As long as there weren't any bugs, we were in business.
    Beauty looked as green as ever when I stopped at her knee. “Don't worry, Lorelei. We'll be safe here."
    She nodded, surveying the quiet forest from her vantage point.
    That little heart of hers raced.
    She should trust me to protect her by now. I grabbed her tiny waist and lowered her to the ground beside me.
    Her palms fell atop my wrists.
    Soft warm skin. Not good.
    Play. Wolf hopped into action.
    She must have known something changed. Her gaze flicked to mine.
    To the shimmering gold, the color of a Shifter's eyes when a warrior's Wolf was right beneath the surface.
    She stiffened, then lowered her gaze.
    Oh, yes, she'd seen the telltale change. Showing respect? Being submissive? Neither mattered. We had to work together. Or she would be right back where she started that night we met. I used a finger to tilt her chin until she couldn't avoid my gaze. “I'm putting you overhead.” I pointed up at the ceiling. “Sit tight. Don't move around until I can check the safety of the flooring up there. Understand?"
    "Yes."
    A minute later, I shoved her shoulders through the opening, then her ass. One hell of a hard little ass.
    Mine, Wolf yapped.
    Accursed wolf. He needed a hobby. Or at least to broaden his vocabulary. I turned to my large bulky stallion who was at least half Quarter Horse.
    Big. Awfully big to squeeze through the doorway.
    Somehow, Trance knew I wasn't giving in until he wedged his body into the small storage room. The stallion didn't argue with his ration of oats either. I patted his muscular neck and shut him in for the long night with Bounders roaming the countryside and Wolf panting about a tight little ass. I leapt at the attic's frame around the opening and pulled myself into the darkness.
    Red and orange heat of her form outlined how she clutched her knees to her chest, sitting right beside the hole where I'd instructed her to wait. “The horse okay?” She watched me, apparently comforted by the darkness shrouding everything.
    My eyes probably glowed with Shifter gold in the low light.
    Greet, Wolf whined.
    Stupid dog thought of nothing but licking and mating. But Beauty finally seemed concerned about my stallion. “Trance is.” I shoved myself up with my palms, grabbed the rope tied to my belt loop, and pulled hand over fist, hauling up the dead weight of my saddlebags, saddle blanket, bedroll, and the bag of coffee I'd tied to the end.
    "It's so dark,” she whispered.
    Greet!
    Protect, you Gods-be-damned mutt. One would think his inner Wolf would opt for protecting a female to win her favoritism over fucking her. She obviously didn't look interested in having
    Wolf cover her with his scent. Or much of anything in the wilderness. “You've never been out of the city, have you?"
    She inhaled, a soft sound that Wolf's senses heard loud and clear. “Not that I can remember.
    Without guards and things people need to travel.” She kept her eyes down.
    Wouldn't look at me. Probably embarrassed she felt so vulnerable. A man couldn't blame her for hating her weaknesses.
    Protect. Wolf started clawing at my ribs.
    If the damned thing would just chase a stick ... I tossed the bag with clanking cups and coffeepot a foot away from the opening and slid a finger into the knot at my belt loop to wriggle the taut rope loose.
    "You have everything you need.” Maybe not a steaming cup of coffee. But we couldn't light a fire up here. Hard tack would have to do. I foraged through a saddlebag for the bag of beef jerky and thrust the soft leather into her knuckles. “Eat."
    Wolf settled down.
    If he'd been here, he'd probably be laying at her side, waiting for a bite. Not of the jerky in her bag either. He'd be aiming for collarbone.
    Beauty pulled out a piece of meat and nibbled on the lump. “Thank you."
    Gratitude. Normals