Page 15 of The Alpha's Sin
I have no idea how right I am.
10
POPPY
The full moon is just rising over the tops of the trees when Logan brings me outside. First, though, he gets me wrapped up in his thickest coat with a scarf and gloves—which are way too big for me—to be sure I’m warm.
He’s only wearing a t-shirt and jeans. But as we step out into the chilly night, I don’t see any chill bumps rising on his muscular arms. He seems perfectly at ease. Which makes sense, I guess. Every time I’m near him, I notice how warm he is. Does that have something to do with what he claims to be? I have no idea. I watch him from the corner of my eye, pretending I’m staring at his backyard which is huge and leads into a kind of forested wilderness near the back.
“All right, now I want to prepare you for what you’re going to see,” he says, turning to me. “I’m going to let my Wolf out. I’m an Alpha so he’s really big, but he won’t hurt you. He feels the same way about you that I do.”
I want to ask what he means by that—how does he feel about me? But this situation is already so strange, I don’t dare to ask. I bite my tongue.
“I won’t let him out for long—just a few minutes,” Logan continues. “Then I’ll Shift back to human form and we can talk.”
As he speaks, he begins undressing. First he pulls the t-shirt over his head, revealing a mouthwatering chest and washboard abs.
“Don’t want to ruin my clothes,” he says, seeing me watching with wide eyes. “I like these jeans.” He pushes them down his long legs and folds them neatly, leaving them on the back porch.
Then he walks down the porch steps and looks up at the moon. The silvery light caresses his tan skin. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs now. At least he didn’t get completely naked…though to be honest, I wouldn’t have minded it if he had. He’s got the body of a Greek god… Then I push the thought away. What’s wrong with me, thinking like that? He’s my brother-in-law!
The guilty thoughts are pushed out of my head because at that moment, Logan starts to change. Or I guess to “Shift,” as he calls it. His muscles writhe under his skin and then his joints and bones begin to move and rearrange themselves.
I watch in silent amazement. His knees are suddenly bending the wrong way and then he’s on all fours. His face elongates into a muzzle and his ears migrate to the top of his head and become pointed at the tips.
I keep watching, my eyes going wider and wider. By the time fur bursts out of his back and flows all over his body, I’m convinced I’m dreaming. But then, the Wolf turns to me and I’m not so sure.
He’s huge. I mean truly huge. The size of a horse, almost. I’ve never seen such a big Wolf. And he’s looking at me with pale golden eyes that glow in the moonlight.
“Oh my God,” I breathe at last. “It’s true…you’re real!”
The Wolf whines softly, looking up at me. I get the distinct impression that he wants me to come to him—to touch him. I look around. Is it safe? Logan didn’t say anything about staying on the porch. Also, he told me his Wolf wouldn’t hurt me. Should I?
I want to, I realize. I want to get a closer look at him. He’s beautiful.
Slowly, I descend the steps. Am I crazy, going to meet a Wolf as big as a horse? Maybe I ought to be running in the other direction—hiding under my bed or calling the police. But what would I say?
“Hello, 911—I have an emergency. My brother-in-law has turned into an enormous gray wolf.”
Yeah, somehow I don’t think that would go over very well.
The Wolf waits patiently, not moving a muscle, as I approach him. God, he’s huge—his head is bigger than mine. But he doesn’t bare his fangs or make any aggressive gestures—he just waits.
Feeling like I’m in a dream, I put up a hand…then I hesitate.
“Hello. Er…can I pet you?” I ask him.
I don’t really expect an answer, but the enormous, shaggy head nods slowly. Apparently he’s giving me permission.
I take off the oversized gloves and shove them in the pockets of my coat. Then I put my hand on his ruff, feeling the warm fur. His scent is Logan’s scent, I realize—only wilder. I have the urge to bury my face in his neck and restrain myself. We just met, after all.
Instead, I pet him carefully, stroking my fingers through his thick fur until he makes a soft rumbling sound of approval.
“You like that?” I ask softly and reach up to scratch behind his ears. He lowers his head to make it easier for me and when I stop for a moment, he nudges against me, asking for more.
Before I know it, I have both arms around him, scratching and petting. I press my face to his furry ruff, just like I wanted to before. It just feels so natural and I love the soft brush of his fur against my skin. He’s so warm, just like Logan always is.
That thought makes me pull back a little. Is this Logan I’m petting and caressing and getting entirely too friendly with? I would never act like this around my brother-in-law when he was in his human form—it would be way too awkward. I mean, he’s held me when I fainted and also held my hand at the Doctor’s office during the ultrasound, but I would never put my arms around him and nuzzle my face into the side of his neck. But that’s what I’m doing with his Wolf—and it feels so right I just can’t seem to stop.
