Seasonal howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers. With snowstorms playing monstrous villains this past week, I thought I’d use a snowfall to bring Dante and Kitty together, if only briefly.
Dante, Biker Alpha
Dante knows he’ll never be the werewolf son his top-of-the-pack sire wanted. That’s Devon, his brother’s role. He left Talbot’s Peak to protect the catwoman he loves. Now, he’s back. And while he’s looking for a way to win her heart again, and keep her protected, he intends to make his own alpha mark. As the secret owner of the Last Bite Lodge, Dante also owns the interspecies pleasure club hidden below.
Katrina ~Cat~ Collins, aka Kitty Kewtie
Katrina is the sweet little cat shifter who started it all with her letter to the editor. She is determined to recover from her devastating heartbreak, and continue on with her life. After a night of tender and wild passion between them, Dante swung astride his Harley and left town. Even though, she knew Dante needed time to become the alpha wolf he is now, Katrina wants nothing to do with him. So what, if she dreams about him every night.
Dante and Kitty ~ Unrequited Shapeshifter Love
Dante strummed the opening chords for the song he’d written about her. How many had he composed so far? He counted ten. He’d written about how much he loved her, and about her girl-next-door loveliness. About her eyes that were the clear blue of a mountain lake. Her eyes. She could always embrace his heart with her gaze.
His notes sounded sour suddenly, and Dante nearly threw his beloved guitar against the stone wall. Instead, he laid it aside, and leaped upward striding for his favorite window. Snowflakes danced on the winds preceding the blizzard he’d sniffed in the air, as he’d walked the short distance from his pleasure club.
Overtaken with restlessness, and the ache that too often consumed him, Dante stared into the depths of the evening forest. Where was she? His Kitty. His Katrina. Was she safe and warm, curled up before her blazing fireplace, holding a mug of catnip tea?
Or did she run and gambol in a forest clearing as she loved doing whenever a new snowfall began? That’s how Dante had first met her in her animal form. While hunting the vermin population that plagued his new den home, he’d come upon her.
Hidden by the trunk of a tall pine tree, he’d stalked her with his predator’s gaze as she playfully raced in circles. With utter joy, she threw her fluffy, yet sleek feline body forward, tumbling and rolling on the thin carpet of leaves and snow. Springing high, she batted at the flurry of snowflakes, her pale fur beautiful against the forest backdrop.
“Katrina.” Her name might as well have been every sad beat of his heart. How long he’d watched her Dante didn’t remember. But, he’d finally joined her by running pell-mell into the clearing.
His Kitty had froze, preparing to run for her life. Dante pretended to ignore her. Performing a series of jumps, he snapped at the large wet flakes. A fair distance from her, he had done his own playful rolling on his back. With his paws lashing the air in every direction, he exposed his belly to her.
Shyly, carefully, she played tag with him. They took turns chasing each other, circling the clearing. Toward the end of the game, they raced madly after each other, churning up the leaves so the bits clung to their coats.
Afterward, their pants steamed up the cold air as they romped with each other like cub and kitten youngsters. Wanting her to trust him, Dante hadn’t tried to wrestle with her. Not during that first meeting between them.
Groaning, Dante pressed his forehead against the cool window pane. He had plans to woo her, win his Katrina’s love again. But, it was a long range strategy that included a way to protect her from his sire.
Scat! He needed her now. Switching to his wolf vision, Dante watched small prey animals forage for their last bites of food, then burrow themselves into their warmest places to wait out the blizzard.
Before he knew it a howl ripped through his lusting loins, straight from the crown of his hard-as-a-log cock. The howl surged inside his throat with such force, he felt it burn. Dante tipped his head back and howled.
He hadn’t been able to shift first, so strong was his longing. Still, the mournful song came from his werewolf soul. And, he knew it also came from the taint his father concealed at all costs. There was full human blood in his lineage, only discovered by a fluke blood test done on Devon.
His cur-fool of a brother had drank himself into a stupor at a frat party, and been taken to a private shapeshifter clinic. Afterward, to his brother’s credit, Devon had bitten the silver bullet, becoming a top student.
Dante wondered how much his sire had paid to ‘retrieve’ those test results, and ‘whom’ he had paid off. During his own quiet investigation, he’d been relieved to find out no blood had been spilled and no one’s head had been fang-torn off over the matter.
To a werewolf pack that turned humans into their kind, it wouldn’t have been a concern. However, his ancestry began at the inception of Rome, originating from a mysterious sect of wolfen. Unlike some of his brethren werewolves, his bite didn’t turn humans.
Taking several steps back from the window, Dante tugged off his boots in record time, then stripped off his shirt and black leather pants. Naked, he ran for the ramp leading down to his den.
As he wound through the long tunnel toward his outside entrance, his shift occurred. His fur emerged, mere pricks of pain. His bones cracked and popped, the sound minimal and the transformation painless.
In under a minute, his skeletal structure became wolf, and so did the rest of his body. His claws scraped the rock as he sprinted. His ears folded flat against his head, seeking relief from the wind.
Bursting into the darkness of evening, he gave his tail a fast shake just to feel the length of it. His speed didn’t lessen. There was no need. The clearing, their clearing was less than a mile away as the crow flew.
Each time his paw pads struck the soft forest floor, the song of the Great Mother vibrated through Dante. And he listened, his wolf being singing with her for a time. Now, he cocked one ear, listening for the familiar gait of his Katrina Cat.
Having disconnected his mind from hers, except to keep her protected, Dante didn’t know where his Kitty was. He only knew he had to be with her, if only to catch a moment’s glimpse of her. Feline or woman, he didn’t care.
If she’d needed him because she was in trouble...or, if anyone planned to harm her, Dante would know her location instantly. It was how he’d been able to secrete his Kitty away to the cave where White Fang found her. That, and the magical elixir Pasha had given him caused him to be invisible.
Hope like love sank its fangs into him, and clamped down. Dante slowed, feeling the wet cold snowflakes softly strike his muzzle. With the clearing close now, he trotted toward the tall pine tree.
Empty. The clearing was as empty as his heart.
Dante ignored the dash of a rabbit, and sat next to the pine’s trunk, his rump collapsing beneath him. He stared at the empty clearing, whimpering. Unable to leave, he watched the thick snowfall cover the ground.
When a howl burst into his throat, he tossed his muzzle high...
With his interrupted howl almost choking him, Dante whipped around.
Kitty, his Katrina crouched behind a boulder about twice her size. She peeked around it, her eyes blue exotic gems in the darkness.
He didn’t move. Kitten, he paused, then dared, it is written.
For long moments neither one of them moved a muscle, not even to blink. Their gazes beamed into one another, the heart’s code, even if his Katrina didn’t know it. Even if she refused it.
Dante waited, knowing it was better if she did refuse him. For now. Still, feeling as if his life was held by a whisker, he waited.
Her sudden launch caught him off guard for a split second. Feline-lithe, she bounded toward him, tagging his shoulder with her nose.
You’re it, dog breath.
~ HAPPY SHAPESHIFTING HOLIDAYS ~
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~