Full Moon Night

Full Moon Night Lia Connor All rights reserved. Copyright ©2006 Lia Connor No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file copying or sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Changeling Press LLC. Willful violation of this policy will result in suspension of account privileges and will lead to prosecution. WARNING: Illegal files may contain viruses. ISBN (10) 1-59596-480-0 ISBN (13) 978-1-59596-480-9 Formats Available: HTML, Adobe PDF, MobiPocket, Microsoft Reader Publisher: Changeling Press LLC PO Box 1046 Martinsburg, WV 25402-1046 www.ChangelingPress.com Editor: Vikky Bertling Cover Artist: Zuri

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Prologue “Tonight, we celebrate!” Letting loose with a wild cry, part man-voice and part howl to the moon, Saint Sin jumped down from the sandy verge that surrounded the square of beach he’d marked as his. He landed in the middle of three women who laughed and started to fawn over him. Red-head, blond, and brunette, each one of them pretty in their way, but not what he wanted. Ruffling up their hair, Saint Sin got himself out of the tangle and headed over to a seat by the bonfire, settling down next to Juarez. His second-in-command nodded to him, kicking at the sand with one tough boot. “Take your shoes off,” Saint Sin ordered, glancing down at his own bare toes and at the women, dancing all but naked. “We’re all friends here.” Juarez gave Saint Sin a dark look, but obeyed, toeing off the boots and placing them behind him on the log. “That’s my boy,” Saint Sin approved. He planted his hands on the log and leaned back a little, watching the men and women of his gang dance in the glow of the setting sun. They weren’t perfect, not strong or tall like himself or Juarez. Some were small, some had imperfections, and most of them were skinny. That’d all change soon, though. “Tonight’s the night,” he said, twisting open a bottle of stolen beer. He tipped it back and drank even as he felt Juarez’s dark gaze fasten upon him. “She’s held out for a long time, but it’s a full moon tonight. She won’t be able to resist coming to play with us.” He grinned to himself in a way that would have left no outsider in doubt of what he meant by playing.

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Juarez dug his toes into the sand. “You’re sure about what you’re doing?” he asked in a low voice, beneath the wailing cries of jubilation from the rest of their Pack. “Taking a chance like this is risky for all of us.” “What’s life without a little risk?” Saint Sin passed over the bottle. “I did what I thought was best for the Pack, and that’s all there is to it.” “I still don’t see why you had to --” “Is it your place to question me?” Saint Sin snapped. At Juarez’s reluctant shake of the head, he grinned again and grabbed the bottle back. “Sun’s setting, moon’s rising,” he said. “Pretty soon we’ll see what’s what. Bet you twenty she shows up tonight.” Juarez shook his head. “You’re on.” “Easy money.” Saint Sin braced himself with one hand on the log and one hand loosely cupping his hard erection. God, he’d been permanently aroused since he’d first seen her, with her dark skin and wide, black eyes, all crowned by that head of loose curls that spilled free of her braid and wisped around her cheek. Chantal, he’d heard the people in town calling Looking forward to seeing you, Chantal. Bet you just can’t wait to see what we’re all about. Laughing, Saint Sin raised his face to the sky and let out a long, baying wolf’s howl. “Tonight we party!” he shouted. “Dance!” And the tumbling chaos went on, his Pack of Wolves cavorting on the shore. God, this was the life. And it could only get better, or would once Chantal arrived. Chantal…

*** The distant sound of whoops and howls carried through the still twilight air. The wild gang that had moved in down on the beach were having a party, tossing back bottles of beer, probably stolen -- a lot of merchandise had gone missing from stores since they arrived -- and dancing around a vast bonfire made of driftwood. No human ears could have heard them, but Chantal did.

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Struggling up from her bed, legs tangling in her sweat-soaked sheets, she stumbled to the window and flung it open. Closing her eyes as a cool breath of wind, laced with salt from the ocean, brushed across her cheek, she listened hard. She could almost hear the men singing and the scuffing of the sand as women danced. She was miles away from that stretch of the beach. How was it possible that she could hear them? Lifting one wrist to brush tangled black hair away from her face, she paused for a moment when she saw the fresh pink scars on her espresso-colored skin. She turned her arm first one way and then another, looking at the places where teeth had sunk into her flesh. The breeze curled through the room and riffled up the pages of a book she’d left lying open on her desk. She’d had to borrow it special from the college library. They hadn’t wanted to let her take it home, but she’d begged and pleaded and even gone so far as to display her cleavage as she leaned over the checkout desk to talk to the male librarian. It was an old book, full of woodcuts instead of printed pictures. The pages turned as the small breath of air shuffled them, flipping past Chantal’s bookmark and opening on a page with a picture of a creature who was half-man, half-beast. From the waist down, he looked human except for the vast size of his erection, standing up tall and rampant. From the waist up… he was a wolf, complete with muzzle and dripping fangs. Werewolf. Chantal breathed in and out, trying to calm herself. The new scars on her wrist ached just as her pussy burned for something to fill it besides her fingers or a toy. The changes that had come on her since she was bitten… all the reading she’d done… and the gang that had invaded South Beach… everything clicked together in a terrible kind of sense. She knew what the gang was made of. They walked tall and acted tough, but she could smell them now in a way she’d never been able to before.

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Their scent was especially strong tonight. Chantal shuddered as another breeze blew the smell toward her. She felt a pull stronger than the tides, tugging at her to go down to that patch of beach and make the stand she’d planned on. Was this it, then? Was tonight the night? She wasn’t sure. But she ached to go and join in the dance, and her pussy clenched with the thought of wild man claiming her. Maybe their leader, the one she’d seen muscling his way through a small store. Tall and blond, with pale crystal blue eyes, and a grin on his face that said he was T-R-O-U-B-L-E. In the past, Chantal would have been scared of him. Now, all she could do was think about his arms wrapped around her, tugging her close. She knew what she knew, and she was aware that she should be afraid, but she wasn’t. Taking a glance back at her desk, Chantal saw the woodcut picture lying open. She’d studied that one many a time. She crossed the tiny room to touch it, wincing as the shocks creaked on her single-wide trailer. She couldn’t wake up Daddy. Couldn’t bear it if he found out the truth. Her fingers ran across the illustration, tracing each harsh dark line until she reached the cock, flat-palming the book instead. Her body shook with a series of chills, each one stronger than the next. This happened every night as the moon rose. She shook and chattered as if she had a fever, but after a few minutes the feeling of sickness always passed. The need for sex, though, that never went away. It burned between her thighs, making her pussy weep with the need for a thick, hard cock to bury itself up inside her channel. She could all but feel the strong hard-riding arms of a rough-cut man wrapping themselves around her, holding her tight. Could feel his lips on hers, demanding her mouth on his rather than kissing her gently. And she wanted it. Tonight, she decided. It’ll have to be tonight. I don’t know how much longer that group is going to stick around, and if I don’t make my treaties with them now—

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She shivered again, feeling her skin crawl. I have to do this. Otherwise I’ll never know. What they do, what they are—and what they did to me. She chafed her scarred wrist with one hand. Her mind was made up. Tonight, she’d make her great escape. And as for what came next, well, that was anybody’s guess, wasn’t it?

Chapter One Chantal had never ridden a dirt bike before, and the feeling was like grabbing hold of a bat out of hell and hanging on for dear life. The power roaring between her legs had her pussy throbbing, begging for something to fill it, but both of her hands were tightly gripped on the handlebars. It’d be different if she were riding behind someone. Preferably someone big and male, with hard stomach muscles she could play her hands over as he maneuvered this big machine through the night -But so far, Chantal was alone. Tonight might change things, though. “Don’t you go near the south stretch of the beach,” she’d heard people saying. “It’s a damn shame they can’t do anything about the squatters, but now that this gang has moved in? Stay away, my friend, keep out. Wait for them to move on.” Trouble was, Chantal couldn’t leave them be. Rumor had it that the gang of bikers who’d taken up residence on that part of the shore kept wolves as pets, and she had taken a special interest in wolves. Read up on them until her eyes were red and tired, and her body sagging with weariness. Turning the pages had been awkward with the bandage pulling from where she’d been bitten by a dog-that-wasn’t. She’d told Daddy she’d been bitten by a big dog, maybe a Great Dane or an Irish wolfhound, but she knew different. She knew a wolf when she saw one. That one hadn’t been like any ordinary wolf, either. It had tracked her down one day when she was shopping for parts in the old junkyard. Run her down to earth among a sea of rusted chrome and bitten her hard on the arm, as if it meant to drag her off with it like a piece of meat.

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Why it had let go, she didn’t know. The racket the junkyard owner was making and his own pit bull hadn’t fazed the wolf one little bit. But just as suddenly as he’d sunk his teeth in he had drawn back, his tongue hanging out as if he were laughing, and jumped over a pile of trashed fenders to disappear. Chantal shifted gears. The bike jerked and humped between her legs, just like riding a man, and she sucked in a breath of sheer animal lust. She needed someone inside her, and she needed them right now. It had been part of the changes that had come to her, this animal need for sex. Lots of things had changed after the wolf had bitten her. She’d started eating all the red meat she could get her hands on, for one. She didn’t have much family, and they couldn’t afford steak, so she made do with hamburger and liver, gulping it down in big hungry mouthfuls. One night, she’d found herself in the kitchen of her small trailer chewing on a slab of raw beef, with no memory of how she’d gotten where she was. When the sun went down and the moon shone overhead, she felt small and tight in her skin. Then the feeling would expand, almost like she was changing shape. However, when she looked in the mirror she was the same old Chantal as always -dark almond eyes, curling black hair, and espresso-colored skin. She was usually dressed in a tank top and shorts as a defense against the summer heat. The skimpy outfits showed her body off too much, in her opinion, but she wasn’t gonna melt for the sake of acting like a lady. Especially not when –ooh– she craved sex more than the raw meat her body demanded. Many had been the long, sweltering Southern afternoon where she’d locked herself into her room and stretched out full-length on her bed, playing with the one dildo she’d had the nerve to buy through an ad in the back of an old skin magazine she’d found. God, she loved that fake cock. It’d been bigger than she’d thought it would be when it arrived, and made out of cheap plastic, semi-hard, but she’d worked her way up from fingers in her pussy to the point where she could shove the dildo in and out,

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her own juices flowing so hard that she didn’t need any of the fake lubrication she’d added to her order. Didn’t need it, that was, until she flipped over on her stomach and began using that dildo on her ass, plunging it in and out of her hole as if a greedy man were behind her. Whenever she did that, her free hand massaged her pussy, sometimes pushing her fingers in up to the last knuckle in a rhythm that still left her hungry and desperate for more, more, more. “You stay away from those boys on the beach, now. They’re dangerous,” Chantal’s father had told her one day after he’d gotten home from work. “We havin’ chicken livers tonight? I thought you didn’t eat much meat. And you went and panfried them? Lord, girl. Give me some cornbread and I’ll be in heaven.” Chantal’s daddy was an old man, worn down by life. He’d fathered her when he was over fifty, but even in his seventies he kept on working. He boasted that no one knew how to take apart a car and put it back together like he did. He’d taught Chantal everything she knew, which was how she’d managed to get this dirt bike back in working order. It’d been a wreck in the corner of the junkyard when she’d dragged it home, and only after weeks of tinkering had she been able to get that motor to rev up. It sounded rough as a lion’s roar instead of purring like a kitten, but it would serve her needs. “Don’t have any cornbread, Daddy,” she’d said, sitting down to eat with him, being patient and letting him fill his plate before she devoured what was left. After all, he’d been working all the day long, while she’d played hooky to sprawl out on her bed and fuck herself senseless with a toy. “Just the meat and some greens.” “Greens are good. Greens are just fine.” With a sideways look at her, Daddy had taken only a few of the livers and piled his plate high with the boiled collards she’d picked from their patch out back. Chantal’s mouth had watered, and she hadn’t been able to stop herself from snatching the rest of the meat onto her plate. “You go out today?”

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Chantal had shaken her head around a mouthful of meat. “Just to buy the dinner,” she’d said once her mouth was free for talking. “Good. Listen, girl,” he’d said, leaning on the table and suddenly looking very old, “I don’t know where you got that bike and I have no idea what you’re up to, but you be careful, hear me? Don’t go ridin’ down to South Beach where those wild boys have set up. They’ve got junkyard dogs that’ll do worse than take a bite of your arm, and as for those punks themselves…” He’d shaken his head. “I want better than them for my baby girl.” “Yes, Daddy,” Chantal had said, the savory meat turning to ashes in her mouth. She’d known she was lying. “I’ll stay away from them.” He’d be asleep in his bed right about now, Chantal figured. She’d snuck out of her bedroom quiet as a lamb, locked the trailer door behind her, and wheeled her renovated bike out of the yard down the road a ways. When she’d hopped on, a surge of rightness had burst through her veins, and riding that dirt road on the back of this powerful machine had felt like coming home. She was headed to the south side. See, she didn’t think those boys kept big dogs, or even that they had dogs. Who’d carry a dog along when you lived on the back of a bike and set up camp wherever you saw fit? No, Chantal thought they were the dogs, themselves. Only not dogs. Wolves. Big, brutal animals that liked to play underneath the moonlight, and walk on two legs during the day. Werewolves. Not too long ago, she’d have laughed the idea off as crazy. But she knew, from her reading and the meat and need for sex, that what had bitten her wasn’t any old ordinary animal. It had changed her through whatever power it had in its teeth, and turned her into something halfway between woman and beast. Werewolf. It had to have been one of those boys, out playing games, who’d bitten her. Chantal meant to set them straight about what they’d done, but more than that, she wanted a place in their Pack.

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Sorry, Daddy. I had to. Go. Those boys could use her. If she’d heard right, and done all the reading she needed to, there wasn’t a strong female among their bunch. Every Pack needed an Alpha bitch, and she was just the woman to fill that position. It never occurred to her that they might not want her. They had to want her. Otherwise, she’d be stuck in her little town forever, itching every time the moon came out and fucking herself blind on a fake cock during the daylight hours. She craved sex as much as she did meat and blood, and knew she could only find both with the South Beach Pack. So Chantal drove her bike on through the night, the road stretching out in front of her like a curly black ribbon. The silence broken only by the roar of her engine and the blackness cut only by the occasional passing headlights of a car, which grew fewer and further between as she got closer to the beach. Not even tourists came down here -they’d all been warned away. When she got to the edge of where she knew the Pack was hanging out, she slowed her bike down to a rumbling crawl and edged it off the black asphalt onto the sandy verge, heading down a slope and onto the beach. From a distance, she could hear voices raised in laughter and men shouting at each other, plus a CD player blasting out something as hard and raucously loud as it could go. Chantal swallowed. Looked like she’d found her boys. Now the question was, how did she approach them? Balls to the wall, it looked like. As she drew closer, she saw the flickering light of a bonfire, and, surrounding it, two men and half a dozen wolves -- yes, definitely wolves -- running in circles and weaving their way through the parked, beat-up dirt bikes that lined their stretch of beach. Rubbing his hand along one of the wolves’ head, the taller male looked up and saw Chantal coasting to a stop on a hill just above their sandy valley. He stared at her for a long minute, then laughed, the sound ringing out loud and clear.

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“Look what’s come to dinner,” he said as Chantal killed her engine. She took out the keys and dropped them into her cutoff pocket. “I know you.” “I bet you do.” Chantal was proud to hear her voice not shaking one little bit. She swung her leg off the dirt bike and set both feet in the sand, still quivering from the ache in her pussy that she’d developed during her ride. God, she needed to be fucked, and she needed it now. “You were the one who bit me, weren’t you?” The man let out a howl of laughter and shoved one of his wolves aside with a boot. “I knew I recognize you.” “Why? Why did you do it?” His face reflected up at her, all pale blond hair swept back in a messy ponytail and crystal blue eyes. “Come and find out,” he challenged. Chantal never backed down from a dare. It had gotten her into more trouble than she could count, and she had a feeling that this time wouldn’t be any different, but the urge to counter-challenge was strong in her blood, and she found herself picking her way down the hill toward the man and his bikes, his wolves, his fire -Only to find her way blocked by a second man, just as tall and broad, his chest muscles gleaming with sweat from the fire and exertion. He was dark as his friend was light, his long black hair swinging loose around his face. Black eyes, the irises wider than they ought to be, pinned her in place. “You don’t get to him without going through me.” Chantal’s hands balled into fists. Her determination to reach the blond man shifted into an obsession. She had to reach him. “Out of my way,” she said, her voice coming out as a snarl. “I said, not unless you go through me.” The man reached out to touch Chantal, running a strand of her curling dark hair through his fingers. “You are a pretty one, aren’t you? Tough as nails, too. Are you bad enough to take me on?” “Try me and find out,” Chantal dared. “How about I taste you instead?” His fingers tightened in her hair, pulling painfully. Chantal snapped at him, her teeth clacking together. “You’re just a cub,” he

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snorted. “But you look so pretty, all dark as coffee, and you smell so sweet.” He took a deep breath. Chantal felt her cheeks heat up, realizing he was scenting the air for the smell of her pussy. She felt herself getting wetter as she looked at this big man, so solid from head to foot, bare except for a pair of shorts. “Try me,” Chantal challenged, her breath short. “Do you have the balls?” The man’s other hand shot forward to grab her own, pressing it hard against his crotch. She felt the stiff length of his cock jump beneath her touch, and her juices started to flow again. “I’ve got more than balls,” he informed her. His voice grew thicker, a Latino accent infiltrating his speech. “Still want to take me on?” “Turn that question around.” Chantal leaned into the man, pressing her breasts up against his slick chest. “I’m more than enough for you.” God, where was she getting this courage? But did it matter? “Juarez!” The blond man’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. “Let her go.” “But she—” “I said let her go.” A pale hand landed on Juarez’s shoulder and jerked him back. The blond man took his place, staring Chantal down from a height advantage of at least six inches, and she was no short woman. “So. You want to be one of us, do you?” Chantal crossed her arms beneath her breasts and met the blond man eye to eye. “I want what you have.” “What? Fire, music… meat?” He stepped back, letting her get a good view of the flames. A roasting spit had been cobbled together and a thick hunk of something animal hung over the middle, sizzling and spitting out drops of fat. The water came to Chantal’s mouth, and she had to lick her lips. “You don’t just want what we have,” the man decided. “You’re starving for it.” He backed away a few steps, the wolves gathering at his feet. He reached down to pet one as if it were a dog, laughing when it snapped at his hand. “So you think you’re

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tough enough. Well, come on, then. Let’s see if you have the nerve to be part of the Lobos.” Chantal kept one eye on the meat and one eye on the man. She could feel Juarez behind her like a solid wall that would keep her from turning to run, even if she’d had the slightest inclination to do so. “You’re the Alpha,” she said. “Your game, your rules.” The man chuckled. “So you’ve done your homework. Good for you.” “How else was I supposed to understand what was going on? And you still haven’t answered my question.” Chantal stepped forward until she and the man were close again. “Why -- did -- you -- bite me?” His eyes flickered with a silver-blue fire. “Because it was fun.” Chantal launched herself at the man, taking him down to the ground as much out of surprise as anything else. He howled with laughter as they wrestled, pinning her to the sand within seconds, her arms above her head and her body weighed down by his own. “Fun?” she spat. “You take my whole life and turn it upside down, and you call that fun? Damn you!” “You don’t want to damn me.” The man shifted so that one of his hands was holding both of hers down, and drew his fingers across her cheek. “So dark, so pretty,” he said, voice low. “You want to fuck me. Don’t you?” He rocked his pelvis into hers, letting her feel how hard he was. “And you want more than that. You want a place in the gang. Not just any place, though. It’s the full moon, and you’re walking on two legs instead of four. You have the power to be an Alpha.” He tilted his head. “Or did your books not tell you about that part?” Chantal wrestled against him. “I’ve never changed into a wolf, but I still know what I am. And yes, I do want to be your Alpha.” The man’s face darkened. “I don’t have an Alpha. I am the Alpha, and Juarez is my Beta. And I don’t need a woman in this Pack. We do just fine on our own.” He let go of her and stood up, dusting the sand off his arms ever so casually. “Why don’t you go home and be a good girl?” he mocked. “You’re too innocent to

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come playing with the big boys. I can smell it on you. You have the hunger and you have the heat, but you’re not tough enough to play our games.” Chantal scrambled to her feet and planted her hands on her hips. “I am. I can be. Just tell me. What do have to do?” The man raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you want to know?” Chantal nodded, planting her feet firmly in the sand. “All right.” The man stuck his hand into the fire, fishing out the chunk of meat. “We’d even let you eat before you go.” Chantal’s stomach let out a loud growl, but she shook her head. “I’m staying.” “Why?” the man demanded. “What do you possibly have to offer us that’s worth anything?” Facing him down, Chantal took a deep breath and steeled herself. She peeled off her ripped T-shirt and flung it onto the sand, letting her bare breasts spill free, the blackberry-colored nipples hard as horn. She put her hands to the fastening of her jean shorts, soaked through at the crotch with the evidence of her hunger. Heat, he’d called it. Damn right. How she’d missed making the connection, she didn’t know. But this, this desperate need to mate, this was heat. “I offer myself,” she said, low and soft, but carrying. “Do you want me?” The man stared at her for a minute, weighing her in the balance, then grinned. He gave one of the wolves a push with his foot, knocking it aside. “I think we can make a trade. Take those off the rest of the way.” “I want your name first.” Chantal kept her fingers just over her zipper, drawing out the moment. “Tell me what to call you. I need a name if I’m going to be screaming.” “Oh, you will scream.” The man dropped the meat, crossed to her and cupped her cheek in his palm. “My name is Saint Sin. Or at least that’s what they call me. And yes, I’m a wolf. Just like you, just like Juarez. And you want to be in our pack. You offer your body as a payment. Fine, then.” He jerked her zipper down for her and pushed one hand into her shorts, cupping her pussy and giving it a hard squeeze. “Let’s talk.”

Chapter Two Chantal got the immediate feeling that talking didn’t mean what she thought it meant. Usually it implied conversation between two people, but not with this man. Saint Sin let go of her pussy, leaving her body crying out for more, more, more. He licked his fingers one by one, making small noises of appreciation at her taste. “Delicious,” he breathed, making her juices flow harder. “You taste like a she-wolf. It’s been ages. Take off your shorts.” Bending at the waist, Chantal stripped off the rest of her clothes, including the scrap of underwear she’d put on for some reason. Then she stood before him, black and proud, knowing she looked like an Amazon queen. Strong enough to take him on. His eyes raked over the length of her body. “You’re as pretty as I remember,” he said flatly. “Even better when you’re naked. But the party’s only just beginning. You stand there until I call you.” Then, he turned and walked away seemingly without a second thought. She watched him go, the strong lines of his back sloping down to his perfectly rounded ass, the muscles working and playing under his skin, and the tangle of his ponytail. He had a tattoo of a wolf on his right shoulder blade, the animal’s head tilted back in a howl. He looked like a Hell’s Angel -- heavy on the devil, heavy on the angel. If he’d had a beard and B.O. t go along with the tattoo, she wouldn’t have tangled with him in the first place. But he’d smelled… God, he smelled good. Raw, primal male touched with saltiness from the sea that washed up onto their South Beach shore. Something else, too, something unfamiliar. And his jaw had been smooth and hairless as if he’d just shaved.

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As he walked over to a log of driftwood rolled up close to the fire, he elbowed Juarez hard, all but punching him in the side. Juarez snarled, but when Saint Sin glared at him, bowed his head. Chantal observed them with interest. What was going on now? Juarez gave her a dark look, bent down on his hands and knees, and, with a movement like a full-body sneeze, changed from a tall, strong man into a massive wolf nearly as tall as her thigh. Chantal swallowed hard, staring at him. Any doubts she might have had lurking in the back of her mind were erased. Werewolves. As Saint Sin seated himself, the wolf-Juarez padded over to the meat dropped carelessly beside their bonfire. He gingerly picked the chunk up in his jaws, a massive set of teeth that could rend a body from limb to limb, and carried it over to Chantal. He sat on his hindquarters with the meat in his mouth, offering it up to her in silence. Chantal stared at Juarez. “This is for me?” “If you want it.” Saint Sin stretched his legs out, his bare feet dangerously close to the fire. “If you don’t, there’s barely enough for the two of us, not to mention the rest of them.” He cast a glance at the other wolves, not as big or bulky, but just as dangerous, starting to circle and lick their chops. The meat had been dusted with sand and ash where it lay beside the fire, but the sight of it had Chantal’ stomach rumbling and her saliva flowing. She reached out to pull off a piece, then thought better of herself and bent to tear off a slab with her strong white teeth. She got a good portion too, almost a quarter of what she now realized was beef. It dangled from her jaws, hanging heavy, but she snatched it up in her hands and began eating, snapping off ravenous bites and gulping them down almost without chewing. Saint Sin laughed. “So maybe you are one of us,” he said lazily. “Juarez?” Juarez the wolf snarled at Chantal then dropped the meat at her feet. He shivered hard and changed again, unfolding into the tall, bulky man she’d first seen when she stepped onto the beach. He glared at her, then bent to pick up the meat. Strong hands

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tore the remainder in two uneven halves. After stepping around the fire to pass the larger half to Saint Sin, he settled down on the log to devour his own share. Through it all, Chantal would have sworn that his attention never wavered from her, even when his eyes weren’t fixed on her chest. Juarez had the ability to make you think he was looking everywhere even if he was just staring into space. Is that a wolf thing, or just part of his own magic? She wondered Does Saint Sin do that as well? She didn’t think so—but then again, Saint Sin didn’t need to watch his back. He knew he had everything covered with no help needed. He put his meat aside and then, leaning lazily forward with his hands resting on his knees, he eyed Chantal from head to toe. “Talk,” he said abruptly. “Sometimes I forget how, I spend so much time on the road or walking on four legs. We don’t usually party as men, but we can. That’s the difference between the rest of the Pack and myself. Well, and Juarez. I am the Alpha, and he is my Beta.” “Your enforcer,” Chantal remembered from her lessons. “He has to obey your orders.” “Yeah. Pisses him off sometimes, too, doesn’t it, Juarez?” Saint Sin kicked some sand in his second-in-command’s direction. The man’s lip curled in a snarl, but he kept quiet. “You know it does. You’re just too smart to say anything. Come here. I want you to party with me.” Juarez hung back, glaring. “Not in front of her.” “Oh, yes. You do whatever I tell you to, and we were about to get it on before we were rudely interrupted by a little girl who came roaring up on a dirt bike bound together with duct tape.” Saint Sin cupped his cock through his shorts. “Don’t tell me you’re not drooling for it.” “I don’t… she has no right to see.” “If she’s going to be our new Alpha, then she has every right.” Chantal got the feeling he was making fun of her, and of Juarez too. “Come on. Be a good boy.” A low rumble emanated from Juarez’ chest, but he drew closer to Saint Sin all the same. Saint Sin shifted his position so that he was straddling the log, one leg to either

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side. “Right here, Juarez,” he said just loudly enough for Chantal to hear him over the crackling of the fire and the rush of the waves. “Long live los Lobos .” Juarez straddled the log himself, his knees touching Saint Sin’s. Reaching out with surprisingly awkward hands, he tugged at the hem of Saint Sin’s shorts, trying to pull them down. Saint Sin lifted his ass so that the material could come free of his hips and then leaned back on his elbows, his cock hard enough to stand straight up, a thin string of pre-come trailing down to his lower belly. Watching them, Chantal forgot to eat. She let the hand holding the meat fall to her side, while her other hand crept up to her mouth, greasy fingers covering her lips. Was he really going to…Oh, God. Her pussy clenched and she had a feeling that not fingers or a dildo would satisfy her now. Juarez gave Chantal another look, and then bent his head to Saint Sin’s cock, sucking the tip of it into his mouth. His eyes fluttered closed as he sank downward on the shaft, his cheeks hollowing and bulging. More of Saint Sin’s cock disappeared down his throat, until he must have been stuffed to the very limit. Chantal watched them, fantasized about that cock filling her pussy, and felt the cream begin to run down the inside of her leg. She licked her fingers off one by one, wishing she could taste Saint Sin’s flavor on her skin, and squeezed her legs together. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing, or that it was so hot. Juarez was getting into it now, rising and falling, his head bobbing and that thick dark hair sliding over the hard muscles in his back. Saint Sin looked more amused than aroused, though, even as he began rocking up to get a better angle. With a loud pop, Juarez pulled off. “That’s enough of a show,” he growled, planting his hands on Saint Sin’s thighs. “Unless you make me, I won’t do anything else until we’re alone again.” “I could,” Saint Sin said, a burr in his voice. “You won’t have any other choice if I order you to finish what you started.” “What I started? You—you—” “You were the one to go down on me.”

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“Because you ordered me to.” “I never had to command you before.” “That was different.” Juarez wiped his mouth off with one hand. “She wasn’t here then. Why did you go and bite her, anyway? We were fine on our own.” “I told her why, and now I’m telling you. It was fun.” Saint Sin sat up, kicking his shorts off the rest of the way. They fell in a ragged heap at his feet. He poised himself on the log, cock slapping against his stomach, a grin on his face that was both challenge and threat. Chantal couldn’t help taking a step forward. Rising to his bait. “How would you like to be the one between my legs?” Saint Sin asked, husky, tempting as dark chocolate. “I can smell you from here. Watching what we did turned you on like a switch, didn’t it? Mmm, yeah, a switch. I could go for seeing you spread out over a bike, your hands and ankles tied, opened up for me to come on inside and do what I wanted. I’d have a switch in my hand, ready to strip that beautiful body of yours until you turned an even darker shade of chocolate. God, you would be beautiful spread out for me like that.” Raising her head, Chantal took a deep breath. Huh. If they could smell her arousal, maybe the strange new scent on the air was their own need. It wouldn’t be as strong as her own, since they weren’t in heat, but yeah, she could tell, the odor was there. “You’ve got the idea right, but you have the scenario wrong,” she said boldly. “I think what you really want to do is eat my pussy. I can see myself tied over a bike, sure, but on my back with you kneeling between my legs, licking me from top to bottom.” Saint Sin frowned in seeming thought. “You might be right, and you might be wrong,” was all he allowed. “Do I have to try and take a hand to your ass to prove which one of us is telling the truth?” “Touch me now, and I’ll bite you. I’m right,” Chantal said, coming closer. “We both know that’s the truth. I’m an Alpha female, and I’m equal with you. You can’t tell me what to do any more than I can tell you, and anything we do is by agreement only.”

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The man–wolf–laughed. “You really did read up on all the old legends,” he said, sounding like she was a child who’d just presented a paper with a gold star on the top. “Good for you. Did you get to the part where I can command my Beta to pound you into a pulp if you don’t play along?” Chantal quailed, but then wrestled back her self-control. “No, you can’t. No one can harm the Alpha female except a challenging woman who’s able to walk on two legs under the full moon. All I see around here are some female wolves. They’re not strong enough, like I am.” “So you’re not easily fooled.” Saint Sin’s eyes narrowed. “And it looks like I have to play nice. So, come here.” He stood up, muscles rippling in his chest and legs. He held out his hand. “I’m asking you, since you already know the rules. Will you come here?” She didn’t feel too sure about it, but Chantal went, holding out her hand to take Saint Sin’s in her own. He grasped her fingers and then pulled her to him in a hard kiss, crushing his mouth against her own. His tongue jabbed at her lips, demanding entrance, but she was glad to let him in. Chantal opened her mouth with a moan, winding her arms around Saint Sin and finally, finally getting to feel all that bulk underneath her searching hands. Saint Sin groaned into their kiss, plundering her mouth with his tongue. He wasn’t any novice, either, even if he was too rough for an ordinary woman. Not so with Chantal. She met him stroke for stroke, pushing where he pushed, and tugging where he tugged. Saint Sin’s hands came down to pinch at Chantal’s nipples, twisting the hardened nubs into even stiffer peaks beneath his roughened fingertips. She almost whimpered at the feel of his hands on her breasts, the ache inside her flaring high and hot. Chuckling, he got a better hold, filling his palms and kneading the fleshy skin. He was rough, but Chantal wanted the action hot and heavy. No playing around or being dainty for her, not anymore.

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As he tore his mouth away from hers, Saint Sin lifted his mouth to the sky and let out a long, ululating howl. “Lobos!” he yelled, trailing off with a series of fierce snarls. He looked down at Chantal, his eyes wild. “Not afraid yet?” She shook her head, curls cascading over her shoulders. “You don’t scare me. I want another kiss.” “I’ll give you more than a kiss,” Saint Sin threatened and promised. Bending his head, he lifted one of her breasts and brought it to his mouth. Sucking the tip in quickly, then letting go, he blew cool air over the part he’d moistened. Chantal moaned, grasping him even tighter. He dove in again, lapping and nipping at her breasts, using blunt teeth to tug them into a tighter knot. By the time he was finished worshipping her breasts, Chantal was all but a puddle in Saint Sin’s arms. “Lie down on the log,” he directed, voice heavy in her ear. “I’ll walk you to it. You were right. I do want to taste your pussy.” Somehow–she didn’t know how–Chantal’s legs managed to support her over to the log. The rushing of the waves was loud in her ears as she lay down, the wood rough against her back, and the sand gritty beneath her feet. Her thighs parted, exposing her soaking core. She thought, for a minute, she never would have done this before she was bitten, but then stopped because Saint Sin had begun his work. No woman alive could think when they had a long, talented tongue rubbing up and down their pussy like rough velvet. She moaned and cried out to the stars, dazedly watching them dance as Saint Sin ran his tongue from her molten core to the tip of her clit, where he twined around the nub and pulled. It felt like heaven, but it wasn’t enough. “More,” she demanded, feeling the strength of the wolf surge through her. “Give me more!” Saint Sin laughed softly, the vibrations against her pussy all but driving her wild, and said, just loud enough for her to hear, “What the Alpha wants, the Alpha gets.” And with that, he pressed his face to her and sucked hard on her clit while plunging two thick fingers into her pussy, driving them up deep inside.

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“Oh, yes! God, God, yes!” Chantal thrashed on Saint Sin’s hand, trying to get more of him inside her. His two fingers were as thick as her dildo, but fuck, they were better. Warm, almost hot, they moved, pressing at spots inside her channel that had her seeing a whole new kind of stars. “Harder!” “She’s demanding, this wannabe Alpha,” Saint Sin drew back to comment to -who? Juarez? Were the two of them still making fun of her? She heard a male snicker, and a comment in Spanish that she didn’t understand. “Should I give her what she’s asking for?” He turned back to Chantal. “You want more than my fingers in your pussy? Do you want my cock? Is that it?” She raised her head to meet his eyes. “Does saying yes mean I give in to you?” “Oh, yeah.” Saint Sin stroked her legs. “You give in to whatever I want to say… or do… to you.” “I become less than you.” Chantal could feel her temper rising, and even though her pussy was crying out, demanding more of Saint Sin’s attention, she fought past the haze of lust into the red that was rising in her vision. “No way, Saint Sin. I’m your equal. I’m not leaving here until I prove that.” “Then go ahead, prove it,” Saint Sin snarled, standing upright and dragging Chantal with him. “But that’s not really what you want, is it? No, pretty ‘Alpha.’ You want my cock buried so far up inside you that you taste it in the back of your throat.” He caressed the tender skin on the inside of her legs. “I’m going to fuck you, you’re going to love it, and if you want to be part of the Lobos, you’ll fuck me back any way I choose. Do you understand?” Chantal nodded slowly. “Oh, yeah. I understand.” Without another word, she brought her knee up, straight into Saint Sin’s balls -and when he buckled, she turned to run. She pounded her way up the slope, heading for her dirt bike, and was almost there when her foot slipped in the sand. She would have fallen backwards, except strong male arms were there to catch her. Grabbing her by the waist, Juarez whirled her back around and dropped her down the bank, where

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she skidded to her knees in front of Saint Sin, standing up and looking more than a little pissed off. He rubbed at the head of his cock, fat and dripping. “You hurt me,” he said, full of quiet menace. “I think you should kiss it and make it better.” Chantal bared her teeth. “I don’t do anything unless I say I want to.” “Yeah, but you want it. I can smell you.” Saint Sin took another deep breath. “It’s filling this clearing. Stronger than the ocean, stronger than the roasting meat. Stronger than my scent or Juarez’s. You want us both, so don’t lie and say otherwise.” “I can fight you off if I want to,” Chantal said, gathering her confidence. Her stance changed from defense to offense. “I’m strong enough. You might be tough as nails bad-assed bikers, but I’ve never seen a man that a woman can’t pussy whip. And I know how things work with wolves. The males have their hands full, but it’s the Alpha bitch who really runs the show.” She grinned, letting her teeth show. “And I’m saying that until you give me what I want, I don’t give it up.” “Well.” Saint Sin let his hands drop to his sides in a loose position, ready to take a swing if he needed to. “Looks like we’re at a road block, doesn’t it?” “Looks like,” Chantal agreed, leaning forward aggressively. “So the question isn’t what I’m going to do about it, is it? The question is, what are you going to do? And there aren’t many choices, are there?” “Juarez and I could kick you out of this clearing. We’ve gotten along fine without an Alpha female before. We don’t need you now.” “Don’t need me, but you want me.” Chantal shifted enough to cup her pussy with her hand. “You want this, and so does Juarez. I know Alphas don’t share, but I figure you share a lot of things with Juarez. And the rest of the wolves? What do they want?” She took a deep breath. “There are females here, but none of them are Alpha, and they want someone to speak for their side, don’t they?” Saint Sin glared but said nothing.

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“That’s why you bit me,” Chantal realized and said out loud at the same time. “You wanted to see if I’d be as strong out here as I was in ordinary life. You thought I’d make an Alpha, and you decided you’d try me out.” The look on Saint Sin’s face was telling. Laughing, Chantal backed up into the mass of moving wolves. Three of the animals, slightly smaller than the others, twined around her legs. “I think the Pack has decided for you,” she taunted. “Now what’s it gonna be, Saint Sin? Do you give me what I want, or do I take your females and form my own pack?” Saint Sin’s face was dark with anger. She could feel his rage boiling in the air, but then… then… to her surprise… it melted into amusement. “You ballsy bitch,” he said with admiration. “You are every bit an Alpha, just like I’d hoped.” “Good.” Chantal struck a pose. “Now here’s how it’s going to go down, and you’re going to do just what I say. Understood?” Saint Sin’s handsome face drew into sharp lines when he smiled. Chantal could tell she was dancing with the devil here, but the music sounded oh, so sweet. “It’s your call, Alpha,” he said. “Do what you want.” Chantal swallowed. All right. She’d gotten this far. Now she just had to go that extra mile… and finally get the sex she’d been burning for all along.

Chapter Three Chantal rearranged her position, standing flat-footed in the sand with her legs wide apart. She put her hands beneath her breasts and lifted the fleshy globes, pressing them together and thumbing her hardened nipples. “Want this?” she taunted. “Want me?” Saint Sin and Juarez had identical hunted looks on their faces. Juarez hung back, but Saint Sin stepped forward a pace and paused, waiting to see what Chantal’s next move would be. Oh, he was wary now, was he? He learned fast. She’d have to give him a reward, later. Maybe he could have another taste of her pussy if he was very, very good. Letting go of her breasts, her arms swinging loose at her sides, Chantal lifted her head to the sky and let loose with the same kind of howl she’d heard Saint Sin utter earlier. The sound ripped from her, so primal and right that she wondered why she’d never done it before. Maybe the pull of the beast was so strong because the full moon shone overhead. Maybe it was the cycle of heat. Maybe it was the presence of the other wolves, watching and waiting to see what would happen next. For the first time since she’d been bitten, Chantal felt whole again. She was every inch a woman, with skin that burned to be caressed, legs that ached to wrap around a man’s waist, and a pussy that dripped with cream. But more than that, she was a wolf. She could feel the change tempting her from the inside out. If she wanted, she could drop to all fours and shift, painlessly and effortlessly, into a big black she-beast that would have Saint Sin pinned by the throat before he could blink. But no. She had the power, and she was going to ride every crash and wave. These white boys wouldn’t know what had hit them by the time Chantal was done.

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She reached down and began to finger herself, tossing her head so that dark curls fell forward over her breasts. “I never was one to shave,” she said, running her fingers through the nest of black curls on her mound. “I like my hair. It’s thick and black, and it covers my pussy, but if you take a closer look—yeah Saint Sin, come closer and look— you can see my clit just peeking out.” She ran the ball of her thumb over the nub she’d just spoken of, shuddering hard as the shock of a small orgasm ran through her. God, she felt so alive. “You like looking at me this way, don’t you? All naked and wide open for you to look all you want. But let me tell you this, you don’t get anything for free. If you want me, then you do what I say do, or no one’s getting laid tonight.” She held the power over Saint Sin and Juarez -- she could feel it resting heavy in the palm of her hand, just like a man’s balls. She could hold it gentle, or she could give it a hard squeeze. Pleasure or pain, that’s how this was going to go down. “You’re big, tough men, but I’m the shewolf who’s gonna bring you to your knees.” Juarez snapped at her. Saint Sin snapped back at him, obviously telling him to be quiet. Juarez subsided, rumbling to himself, seeming more wolf than man with his wild dark hair and his too-black eyes. But he stood down, and that was what mattered. That, and Saint Sin was listening to her. Chantal favored him with a smile before beginning to move, walking in a slow circle around the two men. “Get on your knees,” she ordered, putting a hand on both of their shoulders and pressing down. They went, Juarez biting at her wrist and earning himself a hard slap. Didn’t matter. He’d missed her arm, and they were both where she wanted them. Making her way slowly around the two men, Chantal examined them from every angle, each one in his turn. Juarez, built like a quarterback with the muscles of a wrestler, his proud face looking half-Aztec in the flickering firelight. He was a hell of a wolf, strong enough to beat anyone down—anyone but her. Her, he answered to—or he would, from now on. He didn’t seem any too happy about being on his knees, but his cock told a greater truth -- he was interested in what she happened to be doing. Thick

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and dark, it rose toward the lower part of his stomach, filling with blood and sexual interest. Chantal ran her hand through his hair, feeling the vibrations of his rumble but forcing him to sit still. There was so much strength in her arm that holding him down took no more effort than lifting a bag of sugar. She knew he knew as much, too. And it made sense. She was Alpha, and she could best the Beta. Lesson learned. Chantal made another circle, this time focusing on Saint Sin. He was the leader of this wild bunch, this group of lost boys and girls who walked on two legs and ran on four. They respected him, looked up to him, and followed wherever he led. The host of bikes sitting away from the ocean’s spray told her how they traveled, and told a wealth of stories about the kind of life they lived. And for who. They lived for Saint Sin. The wolves behind her gave off an almost palpable wave of curiosity about their Alpha male, who’d buried himself in deeper than he could dig out. Chantal chuckled, the sound of her laugh deep as molten honey. She moved her hand to Saint Sin’s head, tangling her fingers in his rough white-blond hair and tilting it up. “So, you wanted an Alpha female, did you?” she asked rhetorically. “Bet you wanted one who didn’t know the rules. Someone who would come to you, who couldn’t not come, but who would bend her head on your say-so. Well, instead, you’ve got me.” Saint Sin looked at Chantal with flat, crystal-blue eyes. His face was set in stony lines that warned her she was pushing her limits. Chantal decided to press him a little further. “I don’t have to play games to be part of the Lobos. The wolf inside has decided for me. You’re responsible for my fate, since you’re the one who bit me and changed me. But what do you do with me now, hmm?” She put one finger underneath his chin and bent as if she were going to kiss him. Instead, she murmured against his lips, “Am I worth it, baby?” Saint Sin snarled. Chantal backed off, laughing. “You still want me?” she challenged. “Come and get me. I’m giving you permission. Go ahead and claim this

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body, but you better get this straight -- I’m the one in charge. Ten feet tall and bulletproof.” “Silver,” Juarez said quietly. “Silver bullets work like in the stories.” “I don’t see you carrying a gun,” Chantal observed. “Are you?” She took him by the head. “Tell me now, are any of you loaded to kill?” Juarez took a sidelong look at Saint Sin, then shook his head no. “Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.” She dropped Juarez back into position. He lowered his head and stared at the sand. “There’s only a few things that bring a Pack together,” Chantal went on. “Blood, hunting, and sex. You’ve already had a taste of me when you bit my arm. There’s meat already on the fire, food that we’ve shared. All that’s left is sex.” She stood back, opening herself to them again. “And I know you want this body. I’ve worked hard all my life, and I have a mirror. You picked me out special because I can give you what others can’t. A pretty face and the muscle to run your Lobos.” She cupped her pussy. “And I have this, which I’m offering up to you alone, Saint Sin.” He shook his head. “You’re right up until there,” Saint Sin said. “What’s mine belongs to Juarez, and what belongs to him is mine as well. If you’re serious about this, then get it straight, we’re a package deal.” “Well, well, well.” Chantal began to finger herself again, dipping down into the wetness trapped in her curls and drawing it up to circle her clit with. “You sound like he’s the one who’s got you pussy-whipped.” Saint Sin growled. “We share. I’m Alpha and he’s Beta, but we’re close. Up until you, we were the only two who could keep our human shapes under the light of the moon.” “And now there’s me.” Chantal pretended to consider the unspoken question for a moment. “All right. As long as I call the shots, then you can both have me. But make no mistake, you do what I say to do and stop when I say stop. I’m not having my first time with the Lobos be a nightmare.” She allowed herself to grin. “This is gonna be a night to remember.”

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Lifting her hands to cup her breasts a second time, she held them as if in offering. “Come and get me,” she invited. “Chantal will show you a real good time. I can be nice if you’re nice. Which you’d better be. We’re bound by almost all the ties, now.” Slowly, cautiously, Saint Sin got to his feet. Sand clung to his shins and knees, a fine coating of dun-colored crystals against his tanned skin. He nodded to Juarez, who stood beside him, a heavier coat of sand on his legs. Chantal allowed herself a smile. “So far, so good. Now how do we start this dance?” “If you don’t know, then you aren’t Alpha,” Saint Sin challenged. “You want me to go with my instincts? Fine.” Chantal put her hands on her hips for a moment, shaking her head at the folly of men, and then closed the gap between them in quick steps, pressing her mouth to Saint Sin’s own. She twined her arms around his waist, eager hands pressing against the muscles in his back, and probed at his lips with her tongue. Saint Sin growled, and began to kiss her in return. And damn, but the man could kiss. As if a cord holding him back had broken, he plunged in and plundered her mouth like a Viking on a spree, bending her backwards with the force of his assault -- but holding her with one arm, so she didn’t fall. See? He’s learning already. Good boy. Good wolf. Breaking off from her mouth, Saint Sin began to kiss a blazing hot trail down the side of Chantal’s face and her throat, pausing to nuzzle in just above where the artery beat with a steady thump-thump-thump and the skin was blood hot. Chantal raised her hand to the back of Saint Sin’s head as he burrowed in, lapping at her skin like he would bite again. He did nip, not hard enough to break the skin. She slapped him lightly, and felt his cock, pressed against her leg, jump in response. So, he liked his women a little rough, huh? She could do rough. But later. Just then, she was busy hanging on for dear life as Saint Sin made his way even further down to her breasts, cupping one and rolling the nipple between his

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thumb and forefinger while he suckled on her other nub, drawing the areola into his mouth and lavishing the dark brown skin with his tongue. He let go with a wet sound and kissed his way further down, making a straight line from just above Chantal’s heart to her navel and then dipping down lower. Saint Sin’s lips stopped just above her pubic hair. He hesitated, not to draw out the moment, but to see what she would do. Chantal decided he’d earned his reward. “Go on,” she ordered. “Lick me. With your wolf tongue. I want to know what it feels like.” Saint Sin looked surprised, but not for long. She saw him light up like a dark torch with the challenge she’d thrown his way. Tossing his head, he made the same shuddering motion that Juarez had earlier and changed only a little way, his mouth elongating into a muzzle and his thick hair blending back into a pelt on his neck and shoulder. When he glanced back up at her, his eyes were wolf eyes, a rich amber-gold. “That’s right,” Chantal said, running her hand over his coat, finding it to be slick and glossy. “Go on, now. I’m not gonna wait all day.” “Juarrr-ezzz,” the lupine mouth growled. “Hizzz turn too.” Chantal half-turned to see the big Latino standing behind her. He raised his hands, as if to say he wouldn’t do anything until she said the word. “Oh, him?” Chantal asked casually. “He can play. See how nice I am?” She heard a huge sigh, and then felt warm hands clasp her shoulders on either side. Heated kisses rained down on the nape of her neck, Juarez brushing her hair aside to reach the skin beneath. His hands slipped around to knead the heavy weight of her breasts, pinching the nipples until they were so hard and sensitive she threw back her head for another howl at the moon. Then, as Saint Sin finally reached her pussy, she let out another yipping cry. That long, agile tongue of his swiped her from the top of her slit to her deep honey core, plunging in to fuck her as well as his fingers had earlier. The feel of him working inside her channel had Chantal writhing, caught between the heavy press of Juarez’s body and the hard grip Saint Sin had on her thighs.

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She let herself go then, hanging slack between them. Saint Sin drank her down like a wolf dying of thirst, his skin glowing with a fine sheen of sweat. She could feel the same on Juarez’s chest as he pressed it against her back, and knew that she too would be glowing. The fire danced, the ocean roared, and the wolves milled around them in circles, sanctifying their union. Chantal felt an orgasm building up from dead center, sizzling streaks racing out to all her limbs, leaving them tingling. “Saint—Sin,” she choked. “I still–I still win–” He snarled at her, pressed forward, and let her feel sharp teeth against her pussy as he fucked her with his tongue. The teeth were what pushed her over. Baying at the moon, Chantal felt herself arched, stretched tight, pushed to the very limit and exploding, shattering into a thousand tiny diamond pieces, just like the stars in the sky above the beach. When she opened her eyes, it was to Saint Sin’s face, melted back to a purely human shape. He cupped her cheek with a show of what she suspected was rare tenderness and came in for a light kiss. When he backed away, he whispered, “If you thought that was something, wait until you feel what comes next.” Between Saint Sin and Juarez, Chantal felt herself being held upright. She grabbed at Saint Sin for balance, and laughed as he ground his hard erection against her weeping pussy. They swayed together doing a dance that would have half the normal beach population hiding their eyes, while behind Chantal Juarez copied their movements, sliding his fat cock up and down the crease of her ass. The wolves circled in, among, and around them, a sea of furry bodies, each one sniffing the air and then yelping in what sounded like approval. My family now, Chantal thought. Love you, Daddy. But a girl’s got to move on. She chuckled at one red wolf who hopped up on the seat of a dirt bike much bigger than him, placing his paws on the handlebars. Saint Sin captured her chin and forced her to look at him. “Don’t pay attention to them,” he said, voice ragged. “Look at me. Feel me. And Juarez. There’s magic in the air.”

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“Same kind of magic that makes us what we are,” Juarez chimed, his accent thick and heavy now. “Magic that turned your power on.” “Mmm.” Chantal let her head droop back, languid as a rose hanging on its stem. “If this is the power that makes us wolves, I like it.” “And it likes you. And so do I.” Saint Sin kissed her once more, hard and demanding. She fought back with her mouth, giving as good as she got, sensing that he approved. As their lips met and parried, Chantal felt Saint Sin’s hand traveling down her side, tracing her curves, then coming to where their bodies were almost, but not quite, joined. He pushed against her, his cock sliding on her folds, slick as oil and water. “You a virgin?” he asked roughly into her ear. She shook her head. Juarez pressed against Chantal, nudging his dick against her ass. “You a virgin to this, though?” When she shook her head a second time, the men both gave a low thrummm deep in their throats. “What did you do?” Saint Sin asked, tracing the hollow of Chantal’s throat with his lips. “Did you buy a naughty little toy and use it on yourself? Mmm, bet that thing almost burned up when the heat came on you.” “Where did that toy go?” Juarez asked, rocking her hips. “Absolutely… everywhere? Perfecto.” “I told you,” Saint Sin said over Chantal’s shoulder. “She’s the one for us. She just had to be brought over onto our side.” Chantal’s eyes flew open. “You -- you played me!” she sputtered, making as if to thrust them away. “Was this all some kind of trick? What have you done?” Saint Sin placed a finger over her lips. “We’ve just made you what nature wanted you to be all along,” he whispered. “A queen. Now you can be our royalty.” She bit at his finger. “You need to do better than pretty words.”

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“You don’t like it when we talk nice?” Juarez came in on the other side of her throat, the slight rasp of stubble prickling against her skin. “How about we talk nasty, then?” “Or act up, like people think we do?” “Maybe we should get wild Lobos loco.” “I think,” Chantal said, planting a hand on either man’s chest, “that you should just be yourselves. And that you should fuck me before we die of old age.” “Mmm.” Saint Sin poised himself at her entrance, pushing just far enough for her to feel the thick head demanding to be let in. “You’re not mad at us, then?” “I’ll kick your asses -- after you fuck me.” “Now that’s the kind of Alpha I want.” Saint Sin bit down as Juarez did, neither breaking the skin, but the pressure enough to send Chantal spiraling off into a second orgasm. When she wound her way down, gasping between the two men, it was to feel Juarez spreading something slick between the cheeks of her ass. It had the smell of something almost Italian, something she’d smelled and tasted before… “Olive oil?” she had to ask. “We carry some around for special occasions.” Saint Sin bit the tip of Chantal’s ear. “Except now, we’ll only ever use it on you.” Chantal closed her eyes and hummed with pleasure. “Hey. Hey, open your eyes.” She did, hazily, to see Saint Sin looking intently at her. “You do realize what all this means, right? This isn’t just some beachfront game we’re playing. This is for real all around. You do this you’re agreeing to belong to Juarez and me, just as we’ll belong to you. You’re signing on to help lead the Lobos. Are you ready for that?” “Ever since you bit me,” Chantal breathed. “Now get on with it.” “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this. From the second I saw you coming up on that battered old bike…” Saint Sin choked his words off as he thrust his cock into her pussy. Chantal’s toy had gotten her used to an intrusion, and taught her

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how to welcome one, but it hadn’t been half as thick or long as Saint Sin’s cock. They rocked together for a moment, adjusting to one another, Saint Sin pushing in deeper, an inch at a time. When he was all the way in, his heavy balls resting against her curling hair, he stopped, shaking, sweat beading on his forehead. “Wait,” he rasped. “Don’t move. Not yet. Juarez now.” Juarez was rocking behind her. His fingers gripped her shoulders so hard Chantal thought they might leave grooves. “Am I the first man you’re letting in here?” he wanted to know. “Tell me, yes or no.” “Yes,” Chantal breathed. “And I want you there. Just go easy, okay?” Juarez half-laughed. “I’m holding on by a thread, pretty lady. But yeah, I’ll go easy. Like this.” Chantal felt the head of a cock pressed against her opening. Like she’d learned to do with her toys, she bore down to make his entry easier, laughing and baying when he slipped past the tight ring of muscle and cried out in surprise. Hanging on tight to Saint Sin, Chantal felt herself being slowly filled from behind with Juarez’s cock. The sensation of being stuffed full of cock from both sides didn’t compare to a dildo and her own two fingers. It seemed as though, when Juarez completed his careful slide in, the men’s cocks were just a membrane away from touching one another. “So full,” she moaned. “So good.” Saint Sin dragged her in for a kiss, reaching his arm around to grip Juarez’s shoulder. Juarez did the same, boxing her in. “Now,” he said, fighting for control, “we finish this.” And with that, the two men began to fuck Chantal like she’d never been fucked before. A virgin except for a few fumbles and her own experimentation, this was all such new territory that she found herself screaming out her pleasure as one filled and the other retreated, sawing her back and forth as if they would twist her in two. She was going to burn up from the inside out, seared to death by the fire in their cocks, but she couldn’t think of a better possible way to go.

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Juarez was the first to lose his grip on control. “Chantal,” he said through gritted teeth, “hang on. Gonna—can’t wait—” “Oh, Christ,” Saint Sin groaned. Chantal braced herself. One hard thrust into her ass, and she felt Juarez shoot his load, hot pulses pummeling her from the inside. God, what a money shot he must be, he thought, dazed. He slumped onto her back, his hands coming down to circle her waist, and held her tight as Sin Saint began to pound her hard as he possibly could, shoving her pussy full of cock time and again. She lifted her leg so he could go deeper and harder. Sweat flew off his skin, glistening in the firelight. Then, with a cry that started out as a guttural human groan and ended as a wolf’s howl, Saint Sin came inside Chantal, spraying her channel with hot seed. Chantal gasped at the sensation and rippled, shaking as a third orgasm tore through her, leaving her breathless. The three of them hung there for a moment, still connected. All around them, the wolves began to howl and bark, their own version of applause. They circled so closely that their fur tickled Chantal’s legs, sending reverberating tremors of climax through all her limbs. She could tell from the men’s sharp intake of breath that they felt the same thing. In their way, the Pack was sharing in the ceremony that bound their new Alpha female to them. Groaning, Juarez pulled out of Chantal’s ass, followed by Saint Sin, who withdrew from her pussy. Chantal could still feel the ache deep within and the need for more and still more sex, but the drive had been satisfied for a little while. She didn’t even feel the hunger in her stomach now. The two drives that had pushed her on had died down to a low ebb, their fires banked and warming her from deep within. They’d be back. But she’d be ready. Held up by four male arms, Chantal savored the sight of her dark skin against their paler complexions and gave a long, contented sigh. “I’m in,” she stated. “I help lead the Pack now.”

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“And God help anyone who gets in your way,” Saint Sin replied, coming in for one more kiss, a gentler embrace, tangling their tongues together. “The wolves accept you. Juarez bows his head to you. And I’m taking you as my equal. Be tough, but be fair. That’s how things are run in the Lobos.” Chantal nodded. “And we’ll be moving on, won’t we?” “Yeah.” Saint Sin pushed a lock of hair away from her cheek. His smile was lazy and self-assured, the kind she imagined good law-abiding citizens would want to smack off his face. She just wanted to kiss it. “We’re out of here tomorrow. There’s another place I’ve heard of up north, in the woods. A friend of a friend passed the word along. We should be all right to shelter there for a while.” “Good. This place has been my home, but I’m on a new road now, and I don’t want to look back.” Goodbye, Daddy. Hope you can forgive me. “We’ll take the Pack up north.” “Tomorrow,” Saint Sin said, slowly bringing Chantal down to the ground with him. Juarez followed, mimicking their every move until they lay on the sand, their heads pillowed on each other’s arms. “I can’t wait to show you our world.” “Good to know. Me, I can’t wait to see it.” Chantal laughed as a curious wolf tongue swiped at her cheek, and reached up to ruffle a rough pelt. The wolves, just like children, came sniffing in to check things out for themselves. She could see the intelligence and approval in their eyes and opened her arms wide, letting them scent her as they would. And amid the snuffling of the wolves, the last sounds heard for a long time were Chantal’s laughter and three human voices raised in a chorus of howls.

Epilogue Chantal felt, more than saw, the sun rise. A hard-core relaxation spread throughout her bones, easing her more than a deep tissue massage but leaving her sore in all the right places, reminding her of how she’d spent her night. A lazy smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she remembered taking Saint Sin on again and again, and sometimes Juarez. Once or twice more, both of them together. She opened her eyes to the rising sun, coming up orange and warming over the ocean. The water was turning from black to blue, the waves crashing into shore with a rhythmic tug and pull. All around her, she could see the signs of a debauched party -beer bottles, stubbed-out cigarettes, and the remains of a bonfire. But more, she saw a huddled mass of men and women, every one of them bare naked and sleeping tangled together like a litter of puppies. Head turned to the side, Chantal watched them. Some dark like her, some light. All of them thin. Too thin. Saint Sin had done the best he could with his Pack, but they needed a woman’s hand. And she was just the woman for the job. Sitting up, Chantal shook her head to free it of the sand that had gathered on the back of her curls. It flew in every direction, each grain sparkling like a gem. She lifted her arms above her head and stretched, not ashamed of her own nakedness. Why should she be embarrassed? The Pack had seen everything there was to see the night before. As they passed her by on their way to relieve their morning bladders or hunt for the remains of meat in the fire pit, the Lobos each gave her a tentative nod and smile. She grinned back at them in return. Soon she’d be learning their names, each and every one, and she’d know everything about them, from the way they rode to the way they

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played. Hard and fast, soft and slow, kind-natured or mean-tempered. She’d have her hand over all of them, and they’d either love her or learn to respect her. Saint Sin had been right—this was what she was born to do. It’d just taken a bite to bring her over to where she belonged. Speaking of Saint Sin, Chantal felt a warmth behind her, and saw a powerfully muscled pale arm wrap around her chocolaty middle. She sighed and arched backward into his embrace, putting her hand on top of his. “So what do you think about things now that you’ve had a chance to sleep on them?” he asked, nuzzling into the curve of her ear. Chantal slapped backwards at Saint Sin to get him to stop. There was a ripple of amusement in her voice as she spoke. “I feel like I’ve been fucked six ways to Sunday, but I’m not sorry about a bit of it. And I know it’s only going to get better from here on out.” “That’s what I wanted to hear.” Sensing his need, Chantal half-turned so that Saint Sin could kiss her, pressing his lips against her own. Pulling back, she wrinkled her nose. “Either you need some mouthwash, or I do.” “Crystal?” Saint Sin called. “Bring us that bottle you lifted from the store last time you were in town.” A small, red-haired woman rose from where she was rummaging in a pack for clothing and grasped a small container of spicy mint mouthwash in one hand. Bowing her head, she trotted over the sand and went down on her knees to present her offering. Chantal drank in the sight of someone kneeling to her, then reached out to take the bottle. “Thank you, Crystal,” she said warmly. “You get first choice of meat, after the Alphas, tonight.” “And what about me?” Juarez dropped into a crouch beside them. He’d already gotten dressed in a black wife-beater and a pair of camouflage pants, along with some sturdy steel-toed boots. He wore leather cuffs around his wrists, and had tied his hair back in a long braid wrapped around with a thong at the end. “Do I get my pick of the meat?”

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“You get to hunt for it,” Chantal informed him. “Hunt, fish, trap, whatever it takes where we end up as the sun sets. And you can have your share, too. But one thing, from now on, everybody eats. Not just you two, or me. We all get a taste or no one does.” Saint Sin shook his head. “One day in and already she’s making rules.” He grew serious. “I’ve been letting the Pack hunt on their own. Most of them choose to do it in human shape, finding what they can at convenience stores and such. Some have a little money left.” “Man, or wolf, cannot live by chips alone,” Chantal said, shaking her head. “Especially not Pack. They need meat, and lots of it. I don’t care if you have to lead a raid into a chicken farm, Juarez, but tonight you find enough meat for everyone to share.” “You’re going to whip me on until the day I die, aren’t you?” “Mm-hmm.” Chantal turned to the side to cup Juarez’s face in one hand and pressed a lusty kiss to his lips. “Being pussy whipped isn’t so bad when it’s the right pussy,” she whispered. “You’ll learn to love living under my thumb.” “We share,” he warned her. “And I’m fine with that. Share and share alike. But that only applies in bed. For the rest of it, you obey me and you obey Saint Sin. Are we clear?” “Si, perfecto,” Juarez growled before kissing Chantal back, his lips rough, but she knew by now his bark was far worse than his bite and she didn’t let it worry her a single bit. Pushing him aside, she stood and turned around in a lazy circle, working the kinks out of her arms. “Everybody,” she shouted. “Get ready to ride! We’re out of here today, moving on up north.” A chorus of whoops greeted her announcement. Men and women alike circled around Chantal, all seeming to want to touch her, petting her shoulder and arms or bending their heads to brush their scalps against her skin. Some came in closer to sniff her, and she let them.

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It was all part of being a wolf. She didn’t mind. “That old bike of yours won’t make it halfway through a day’s ride,” Saint Sin said in disdain. “Until we find you a new one of your own, you ride behind me.” Chantal wrinkled her nose. She’d put that old dirt bike together with loving care, but Saint Sin was right. It wouldn’t last. “All right,’” she said. “Hand me my clothes and let’s get this ragged wild bunch together. We’re wasting sunlight.” “Mmm.” Saint Sin nipped at her earlobe. “And you don’t want to waste a minute of your first day as Alpha, do you?” “Not if the second night is close to being as good,” she murmured back, reaching around to slap his flank. Her pussy ached and burned to feel him inside again, but she could wait. Maybe they’d have a chance when they stopped for lunch and the pack went hunting. She pulled forward, clapping her hands at the dressing wolves. “As soon as I’m dressed, every last one of you had better be on your bikes and ready to go. Hear me?” “We hear you, hear you, hear you,” she heard echoed back at her. The Lobos began throwing their clothes on with even more haste, some of them scurrying toward their bikes. “Good,” Chantal said in a low, rumbling voice. “Good.” Look out, world—she and her Pack were on their way.

Lia Connor Lia Connor supposedly lives in the South, but her job takes her almost everywhere but there. Her laptop is her best friend as she travels. She’s thrilled to be working with Changeling Press. She loves to write about BBW’s, hot, hot, hot threesomes and were-animals. Lia would love to hear from you. You can contact her at [email protected].