Page 20 of Enemy Wolf

When I came upon her less than a mile away, Shiloh was walking a barely-marked trail, one most often used by witches and humans. And fuck me, she looked adorable, which was not a thought I’d ever had about a woman in my life.

She wore a wide-brimmed hat to keep the sun out of her eyes, a light flannel shirt, jeans, and hiking boots. It was all practical and no fuss, but she looked every bit a modern hedge witch out in search of ingredients for her potions.

Actually, with the leather satchel at her hip and the ancient-looking book she was thumbing through, that seemed to be exactly what she was doing.

I could smell her frustration much more clearly now, and there was a deep furrow in her brow as she checked her book, then knelt to peer at a cluster of purple flowers next to the trail.

She didn’t see us, and I was content to keep it that way. My wolf had other plans, however. He went straight up to her, tail wagging and tongue lolling out in a big ol’ smile.

Sweet moon, bury me now please.

Shiloh was so surprised, her butt planted on the ground as my wolf bounded over. “Oh, hi!”

He wanted to lick her face, to get an inhale of that sweet scent up close, but hung back, giving her space. He sat like a good boy though, puffing his chest out like, See? I am a well-behaved gentlewolf.

Inside the wolf’s skin, I was so taken aback, I forgot all about trying to regain control. My wolf never tried to put on a show of good behavior for anyone, and here he was, showing restraint for this witch that he believed to be ours.

Shiloh’s shock appeared to wear off, and her stare was more curious than anything. “Are you in there, Orson?”

My wolf barked an affirmative. As for me, it felt like she was on my front porch and I was hiding behind a closed door.

“Looks like you’re alright after the other night,” Shiloh mused. Her eyes darted over my fur as if checking me out for injuries. My tail wagged harder at her show of concern.

“It’s not a full moon yet, so you’ve got to be aware in there, right, Orson?” She cocked her head. “Or are you taking a nap or something while your wolf comes out to play? I don’t know exactly how shifting works.”

If she wanted to believe I was asleep inside my wolf fur, that was good with me. No way was I pulling my animal back. Even if I could, what would I say to her? Plus, I was naked. Ordinarily, that wouldn’t matter, but for some reason, it didn’t feel appropriate with her.

In any case, my wolf was far more confident with her. I was more liable to fuck something up if I opened my mouth, so I was content to sit back and let my animal side charm her.

In answer to her question, my wolf lowered to his belly and crawled toward her a few paces before lowering his head to his paws.

Shiloh smiled in return, stretching out a tentative hand. “Is it okay if I pet you?”

I let out a low, rolling bark and my tail whipped back and forth over the ground. Shiloh’s hand touching down between my ears was like receiving a kiss, the contact sending a wild thrill through me despite how hesitant and gentle it was.

“You’re softer than I thought you would be.” Her fingers curled, digging into the mane of fur around my neck before stroking down my back.

It was fucking heaven. My animal controlled the response but I was right there with him, lifting our head to butt against her palm, tongue darting out for not just a quick taste but some returned affection I never would have had the guts to give her in my human skin.

“You’re sweeter than I thought you’d be too,” Shiloh mused, a wry smile pulling at her lips. “Orson’s a little bit prickly, isn’t he?”

My wolf let out a soft howl in agreement.

Kiss-ass, I thought.

We inched closer to her, until our snout was practically in her lap. She smelled wonderful, juicy orange and the sharp bite of cinnamon in my nose. And oh sweet fucking moon, now she was petting me with both hands, giving long, luxurious scratches from my neck to my haunches. A long groan escaped the wolf’s mouth as he flopped to the side and that noise was all me, not him.

I’d never had anyone touch me this much and had no idea what I was missing. Shiloh’s hands running through my fur was pure pleasure, even though there wasn’t anything remotely sexual about this.

Her touch, her scent, the warm sunlit ground, and her laughter at my wolf being an idiot. Just the combination of everything happening felt so good. So right.

Shiloh scratched at my chin, still chuckling. “Maybe you can help me, Orson’s wolf.”

Together, my animal and I snapped to attention. We rolled upright with a bark, alert and ears pricked, ready to provide for our pretty witch.

She smiled broadly at our response, then opened the book she’d been holding, turning it to us. “Do you recognize this plant? I need it to make a potion, but I don’t recall ever seeing it.”

One side of the page spread had an old, dried specimen of the plant itself, which didn’t look like anything to me besides brown lumps. The other side had an illustration which did look familiar. I nudged the specimen with my nose, seeing if I could pick up a scent that might trigger a memory.

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