In the Alpha’s Arms

Into the Woods

A low, frustrated growl rang out from behind her as she dated into the foliage. She hadn’t had this much fun in forever, it seemed.

Rain came hard and fast against the trees. Lita had sensed it nearing and yet the sudden force with which the sky opened up shocked her. Within a few moments, the tops of all the trees were coated and slick with water pelting into the overgrowth. Her legs willed her forward, hard and fast as she embraced herself more freely than she ever had before. She was naked as the day she was born, nothing more to shield or hide behind and she was free. Free of every influence that had ever tried to rule her life.

Lits leapt over the fallen tree trunk on the floor of the forest. As it turned out, that wasn’t a mere of rim of dense trees as shed suspected, it was an actual woodland, stretching off into the distance like open arms. She moved through the trees, wet and slippery with rainwater and somehow still felt warm like the hot core of her heart was slight. She’d never felt anything akin to the sensation of row, savage happiness as she did when her wolf pressed their connection. Her wolf was there, below the surface, moving in restrained excitement as she watched them run wild.

She was quiet though, not asking to be released, scared of being pushed further into Lita’s mind where it had lived all it’s life. Somehow, as out of shape as she was, as unused as her legs and lungs had been, Lita ran without restraint and without tiring. Her wolf seemed to send energy through her. The wolf was happy, even if it wasn’t her own paws running through the sharp scents of the woods. That quiet joy propelled Lita forward, farther, faster, harder with no regard to the scrape of her soles on the hard ground. What had started as a mere thrill to entice and work Cole up into a lather, had morphed into her own release. A loud roar against the shackles of her memories and pain. She could be free. She could be happy.

She could hear the dull crunching of feet behind her. No, not feet, paws. Not two crunches at a time, but four. Cole had shifted, running his wolf after his half–wild mate in the freezing rain. Another low growl. If he wanted to catch her, his wolf would have been upon her in a flash, far faster and stronger than her own human legs. So it was clear they were playing a game,

I said never run from me… His voice in her mind was a hot tongue at her ear, a rough fingertip on her most sensitive parts. She shivered with an anticipation that promised more. Her body steamed against the dewing beads of water on her face and shoulders as she slowed to a jog, then a walk. She turned to face Cole’s wolf once more, fear and excitement bristling her in equal measure.

like

snout with every exhale. He studied her closely, predator with prey. She hadn’t seen him like this since that day at the gym. Even at the tournament, he’d been fighting with Maxim, pinned and bleeding. He hadn’t been this panting, strong beast before her, red eyes boring into hers. She had ran

wet grass, hauling him down with her until his head rested in

like this view, Glowering, she looked at him, “How? I–how do I do

It’s like… it’s difficult to explain. Amagine a rope in your mind. A strong, thick, perhaps corded length of rope. The one end to yourself and cast the other out towards the person you wish to speak to. Flook it onto them. Then guide your words along

tethered herself to it but she couldn’t nothing. She tried three times before huffing into frustrated silence, her

hook to him, the rope sliding away

make it where we’re going.. you can

simply running to wind you up, until you could finally catch me, Lita quirked

may be… Cole’s wolf raised himself back out of her lap, I had every

from the grass with a shiver that didn’t come from the cold wetness everywhere. Cole’s

all her nakedness becoming painfully obvious. She should have kept the clothes on when she sensed it would rain. Now it was far too late to go back for them. She eyed Cole’s wolf, surely he hadn’t shifted while dressed, remembering the tatters of clothing that

say now and then again, she didn’t. She knew. Much like Maxim