Wild Instincts: Part 1 (Werewolf Erotic Romance) by Claudia King

Author:Claudia King
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: paranormal, erotic romance, domination, submission, submissive, rough sex, werewolf erotica, alpha male

After a half hour of running I picked up the scent of another werewolf leading away from camp. It was definitely one of my own pack, but I couldn't put a name to the scent. That was strange. I knew most of them well by now. Curious, I snuffled my way along the bank of a trickling stream and followed the scent deeper into the woods. I didn't know why I was following it, but it tickled my brain and piqued my interest in a strange way that all new things seemed to when I was a wolf. Before long I picked out a distant flicker of firelight between the trees up ahead. Even more strange. There was a perfectly good fire back at our camp. The woods were a place to run free in your wolf form, and wolves didn't build fires. As I approached the flames the scent became thicker and more distinct. It belonged to Hawthorne, a quiet male who'd barely spoken two words to me since I'd joined the pack. Even though he was low down in the hierarchy the others seemed to respect him, but I got a slightly hostile from this particular werewolf. I crouched in the shadows near the edge of the small camp, taking in every detail with my night eyes. He had his own lean-to set up with a blanket and a sleeping roll, and above the fire hung a steaming copper kettle. Hawthorne was sitting in his human form watching the blaze. I tried to creep closer, unable to escape my curiosity. A heavy twig snapped beneath my front paw. His shining green eyes glanced up, and I let out an internal sigh. I took my human form again and stepped into the firelight.

"Lyssa," he said with surprise, "I didn't expect you."

"I'll bet." I stepped over to the fire. Well, I was here now. I might as well satisfy my curiosity. "What's all this?" I gestured at his makeshift camp.

"You mean why am I out here and not cosying up in my own tent?" His tone was cool, but it wasn't hostile. I took that to mean I hadn't interrupted some deeply personal ritual of his. "Mostly because I'd prefer not to listen to Cyan doing what he does to you all night. But if you're here, I suppose it's safe to go back."

"At least you're not the one he's doing it to." I growled a little more defensively than I'd intended. I thought I saw the hint of a smile appear on Hawthorne's lips.

"I suppose not. He isn't the most inspiring leader, is he?" He said.

"I hate him." I glowered and sat down on the other side of the fire, wincing as the tenderness between my legs flared up again. I needed to vent. Maybe venting to Hawthorne was a stupid idea, but I knew speaking my mind to anyone else would work its way back to Cyan eventually. Then I could look forward to another humiliating evening in his tent as punishment.

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