Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Wolven... Sometimes the darkness overcomes me.

September howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers. Mucho meows of thanks to everyone who participated in the HARD AT WORK blog tour. And a SPECIAL THANKS to those who commented here at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS. We luvs ya!

Yep, when I woke up this morning, a dark mood hit, and began this flash scene.

Wolven... Sometimes the darkness overcomes me.

Sometimes the darkness overcomes me.

It didn’t used to be this way. These dark moods that come upon me, and feel like black thunderclouds have taken over my insides.

This darkness that rules and makes me prowl the night seeking out a kill.

No, once upon a time I was Miss Sunshine, a look-for-the-rainbow kind of girl. I still go euphoric over rainbows... but...

The dark moods come more frequently now.

Why should that matter to you?

No reason.

Except that somehow I have been turned wolven. I don’t say werewolf because when the fur sprouts like crabgrass, when the snout and tail erupt, it’s not during the full moon.

No, when the fangs break through my gums, and I salivate like the wolf beast I have become in only a matter of minutes -- always my temper has been aroused.

Yes, I am the Wolven Hulk. Perhaps, the one and only. I don’t know. Maybe, there are hundreds, thousands of us...?

Yeah, the Wolven Hulk. I morbidly entertain myself with this dark joke on myself. Often, I howl with laughter. Unless, the ole baby blues fill and the tears fall.

I’m not a mindless killer, though. Killer, yes. But, never mindless.

Who do I kill?

The rapist, the bad cop, those I call the fraudsters -- ubiquitous as flies in the ‘new’ foreclosure industry. Let’s just say anyone with evil intent.

I smell their foulness like rotten fish. I want to rip it out, this cancerous stench. It’s a craving, one that eats at me until I act. Until I snarl and attack.

Other than satisfying the ‘the craving’, what do I get out of this? You wouldn’t believe it. Yeah, I get some measure of justice for humanity -- important to me. But, I get the most unbelievable high.

It’s not the taste of draining, spraying blood -- of human flesh being viciously torn apart. It’s the kill that sends me into sweet rapturous orbit.

How do I know? I don’t have to lay one tooth on some of those I hunt. Once I run them to ground, I hear the panicked gurgle of their heart, the quick erratic thump-thump. Then, their heart explodes into fragments, their eyes roll upwards. I watch them clutch their chest and collapse. Oh so dead.

Then, it’s Bliss Blast o’rama, baby,

At least, that’s what I named it. I could have called it Bliss Blast o‘gasm. However, the high is not orgasmic as in hitting those sex-soaring heights. If you know what I mean.

So, what it comes down to, I have only one clue. A one night stand. Yeah, I’ve succumbed a few times.

But, this was the only time disappointment didn’t crawl through me with razors for claws. The man in question was a good looking son of a... come to think of it... son of a wolf bitch?

He left his mark, alright. Not much of one, true. A long abrasion on the side of my neck with a mere trace of blood. Because it healed so quickly, I didn’t think of it for a long while -- not until recently, during a day of dark contemplation.

Still, all I remember after a night of dreamy, wild and unending kisses -- of passion most definitely unleashed... nope, I’m not dishing out the details, the blow-by-blow lusting account... but, it was splendor among the sheets, on the couch, on my expensive Persian rug. And, finally astride his lean powerful hips...

Finally, I toppled on top of his broad perfect chest, and fell asleep. I’m pretty sure about that. I have a faint memory of low spoken words, of his nose nuzzling my cheek as morning light filtered through my curtains.

To his credit, he didn’t lie to me. He said it would be only for this one night. That he had to leave in the morning, and wouldn’t be back.

I never did go back to that club again. And, never would I have sought him out again, as I’m doing now... if it weren’t for this wolf shifting thing.

Truth is, too, the strength and untamed nature of our passion frightened me back then. Now...?

Now, I want the truth.

I’ve spent the past month tracking this man. I know him only as Zorlus. Wolf senses being what they are, however... along with my sixth sense as a non-practicing witch... and I find myself standing outside a bar in Talbot’s Peak, Montana.

“O’Malley’s Gin Joint” the sign says. There’s a quaint, yet suggestive logo of a roaring twenties’ flapper in a bathtub filled with illicit gin.

For a short time, I watch the clientele enter. Dusk is closing in and some of them are obviously the after-work crowd.

Hauling in a determined breath, I move across the street. I know he’s inside. I’ve been bathing in his scent ever since I hit the outskirts of this small town.

Besides, the bar reeks with canine testosterone. A whole tribe of Wolven Hulks?

Shoving through the door, I immediately hesitate at the sight of all the werewolf memorabilia covering the walls. “Get rid of that cell phone, miss,” a rough voice commands, “and you’ll be welcome.”

As my hand automatically reaches inside my bag, I hear, “No problem, O’Malley. I’ll handle it.”

It’s him. His voice. Zorlus.

Every breath I take now is painful, a knife stabbing into my lungs. I don’t know why, but I freeze in stark fear. Is it because I’m in the middle of this pack. His wolf pack?

I know I’m stunned to finally find him, see him... even though I’m staring at his chest covered by a tight knit tan tee-shirt, but concealed mostly by his mahogany leather jacket.

“O’Mally doesn’t allow any tech devices in his bar,” Zorlus explains in a low caress of sound. “Let’s go outside, Kassandra.”

The fact that he remembers my name... well, I hardly believe it. He takes hold of my arm gently, firmly, then steers me through the door. I yield control of my body, as he leads me toward a low slung, silver sports car that I should know the name of... but don’t.

“What took you so long, mate?” he intimately rumbles in my ear.

“What the hell?” I murmur as he opens the door and seats me before I realize exactly what is happening. “Mate?” I demand, once he slides inside, and purrs the engine to life.

“It’s a long story, Kassandra.” Swiftly, he pulls out, and we are going somewhere.

“I just bet it is!” I snarl. Uh-oh. I tamp down my anger, not wanting to become the Wolven Hulk. No, I want answers. “Where the hell are you taking me? And why -- ?”

“I missed you.”

My mouth drops open. The nerve! Yet, I hear the truth of his words. “I... I don’t understand.” My brow furrows, my temper rising. “Why do I change into a wolf, for god’s ever-lovin’ sake. Just answer me that one, you son of a wolf bitch.”

“It was a mistake. I got carried away... you were so beautiful. Are so beautiful. We couldn’t get enough of each other. I hadn’t been with a woman for over a year. Truth is, I lost it. And made a mistake.”

“Mistake, what do you mean exactly?” I notice from the corner of my eye that we are driving on a highway, and leaving the town behind.

“Kassandra, I marked you.” He pauses and glances at me briefly, his gaze a savage glitter. “I didn’t know if it would take, even with your suppressed supernatural powers. If it did, I knew you would find me. So, I moved to Talbot’s Peak. Where it’s safe for us.”

“What’s so damn safe about it? Because it’s a den of wolves?” My voice hits a high note. Dammit! “Hey, why aren’t I morphing? Usually, I...”

“Because you’re in love with me.” His tone is satisfied arrogance.

“I don’t think so,” I singsong sarcastically. My arms cross and clamp themselves beneath my breasts. I glare even though his gaze is fastened on the road.

“Tell you what, beautiful, once we reach my cabin, we’ll shift and go for a long run together. Then, I’ll cook dinner, and we’ll talk afterward.”

I knew that was best deal I was going to get from Mr. Seducing, Marking Wolf. “Fine,” I grump. “Just know I am ‘not’ your mate.”

“I think,” he softly growls, “you were my mate the first time we laid eyes on each other.”

Because I still inside. Because no reply enters my head. Because my heart bangs against my ribs. Because...

“I am a killer,” I whisper.

“Comes with the territory, Kassandra. Lycan, I bet you’re beautiful as a wolf. My wolf.”

I shiver at his possessive tone. I like it, definitely like it, but I’m afraid. So afraid. “I’m not that easy... despite... well, I was with you. But normally I’m not. I’m not!”

“I’ll make it easy, real easy, my beautiful Kassandra.”

His suggestive tone, his sexy timbre. God, what chance do I have of denying him?

Have a Magickal Week!


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~


Serena Shay said...

Now if all those nasty, naughty folks out there knew Kassandra was hot on their tail, I bet they just might straighten up and fly right!

Great flash! I can't wait to read more about Zorlus and Kassandra, they seem to be quite a sexy pair! ;)

Pat C. said...

Does Kassandra know your tigress? She could be another agent in the making.

At least she's found her mate, and what a hunk he is. You always stop at the good part.

Savanna Kougar said...

Serena, yeah, the baddies just might, if they knew a ravenous she-wolf was about to devour them.

Zorlus has quite a past of his own.

Savanna Kougar said...

Pat, no, Kassandra doesn't know Kytaira. However, since my tigress visits Talbot's Peak, I'm betting they'll get to know each other.

Sorry about stopping at the good part... by tha that time the eyes are drooping, my body is demanding sleep... and, at least, I have a story to pick up, and run with.

Rebecca Gillan said...

Am currently trying come up with an excuse to use "bliss blast-o-rama" in a conversation now. Excellent post!