Wolf Scent (Mountain Wolves) by Isabel Dare

Author:Isabel Dare [Dare, Isabel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay shifter romance, gay erotic romance, gay werewolf romance
Published: 2014-01-07T11:00:00+00:00

Kirk’s breath echoed in his ears. In the deep quiet of the woods at night, it seemed very loud. But not loud enough to cover the other sounds, the ones that receded behind him as he ran up the mountain path.

Leo’s heartbeat: too fast at first, then slowing as he recovered from the shock of Kirk’s departure.

Leo’s ragged breathing, and the scrape of his crutches on the kitchen floor.

A curse, barely audible, in that sweet tenor voice.

Kirk was running away from the cabin, running upwind, and yet he still thought he could catch Leo’s scent, with its new overtones of worry and shock.

It took everything Kirk had to keep moving.

Every instinct he possessed was screaming at him to go back, to finish what he had started.

To claim his mate.

But that was wrong. Even if Leo wanted him—something he could still barely believe was possible, and yet Leo had kissed him and sunk his hands into Kirk’s hair, and the scent of his excitement was as unmistakable as it was startling—even if Leo wanted him for just that moment, he was not Kirk’s to take. To despoil.

Leo didn’t know what was at stake.

To be fair, neither did Kirk. Not really. Not from experience, anyway.

Before he had been made into a monster, Kirk hadn’t known such a thing existed. Desperate for some way to rid himself of the change, he’d tried to find information on werewolves, but there was nothing. Fairy tales and superstitions and silly movies, nothing real.

Then he’d started reading up on wolves, on wolf behavior. The stark sentences had struck him to the heart: wolves mate for life.

For him, that might even have been true before the change. His few attempts at casual sex had never been fulfilling, and he never understood why men were supposed to love one-night stands. It seemed tawdry to him: mere rutting, as desperate as it was unsatisfying. He never wanted to look his partners in the face, much less speak to them afterwards, and he would slink away in the early morning, ashamed of himself.

Then he’d joined the Army, and they’d singled him out and made him into a monster.

After that, Kirk believed that nobody would ever want him again, and had arranged his life to suit himself.

Now…now all his certainties were suddenly shaking loose.

It wasn’t possible, his rational mind was telling him. Leo might like the man, but that didn’t mean he could love the wolf.

And for better or for worse, Kirk was the wolf.

The wolf was him.

The beast reared up in him now, howling to get out. He could feel his clothes itching, the backpack a strange and annoying weight against his spine. Running felt wrong: why wasn’t he on all fours?

Moving faster, Kirk hoped desperately that he would make it to the old hunting lodge in time. It was his only refuge during the change: an old, dilapidated shack, so high up the mountain, so inaccessible, that he could weather the change there if he had to, without fearing that someone would find him.

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