Wolf in the Woods: BBW Wolf Shifter Romance (Shifters of the Glen Book 2) Read online

  Wolf in the Woods

  Shifters of the Glen - Book Two

  Published by Skye Jones

  Copyright 2016 Skye Jones

  All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced or used without the written permission of the publisher.

  All events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to places and persons is coincidental.

  This work of fiction is intended for adults age 18 and over.

  Editing by Lisa A Hollett at Silently Correcting your Grammar

  Cover Design by DW Art and Design

  Interior Layout by Author’s HQ and Rachel Medhurst

  CONTENTS

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  Wolf in the City

  This book is dedicated to my sister, for understanding and sharing my fangirl ways and love of the man candy. Love you, sis!

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks as usual go to my amazing critique readers, JM Stewart and Kimber Vale. You guys always make my stories better!

  My editor Lisa A Hollett, who is simply fantastic.

  Huge thanks to Michelle Fox and all the shifter authors who let me pick their brains about self-publishing. Ditto to the Divas for the same, and the Wenches, in particular, Rachel, Grace, and Tami. You all rock!

  To my husband for the awesome covers.

  Finally, a huge thank you to the readers out there. Words really can’t express my gratitude for your support.

  A quick Word:

  At the end of this story is a short prequel of book three in this series: Wolf in the City. This is Jake’s story and I had a ton of fun writing it. The story may change before publication, as it is not fully edited yet. I hope you enjoy the sneak peek! Thanks for reading.

  Prologue

  The wolf stopped dead in his tracks. The woods where he roamed were normally quiet and devoid of people. That scent. He lifted his head and sniffed the air. Empathine.

  No, it couldn’t be. They were rare, and his pack already had one. The odds of another being found were astonishingly low. Yet, his nose did not lie.

  The female’s scent brushed by him again, carried on the low breeze. He edged nearer to the clearing where three tents were set up. The raucous sounds of young humans having fun drifted on the night air.

  “Drink, drink, drink!” a man shouted.

  The wolf snorted. Idiots. They came out here, to one of the last great European wildernesses, to do what? Drink and play stupid games.

  “Don’t drink it all.” A female voice this time. Not her, though. Not the one with the delicious scent. A stunning young black woman walked into the clearing, but he wanted to see the female with the enticing scent.

  “Don’t be such a nag, Cindy,” a man shouted.

  “Of course.” She shrugged. “Why listen to me? I’m only going to be a doctor. Don’t come to me when you’re throwing up tomorrow, Dave.”

  Dave snorted and turned toward the tents before shouting, “Your turn next, Iz.”

  “I’ll drink you under the table, old man.” A blonde exited the farthest tent.

  Her. She was the one who’d brought the wolf here. That voice. Her smell. They called to the wolf…and to the male within. Look at her. Long blond hair, pale skin, and curves to make his mouth water, made for a potent beauty. The wolf sniffed again. Healthy, too. Ripe. Ready for the taking. She threw off pheromones like a furnace. A growl ripped out of his throat, low and angry. Did she want one of the idiot males in her group?

  How long would they be here? One night? Two? Should he go alert the others? He thought not. They’d want this one. By rights, his best friend, Jake, got first call. As the alpha’s second son, Jake needed a mate. Jake’s brother, Drew, had found his own female. The empathine, Brooke.

  Now Louis had found this one. This beautiful, sexual female. He wanted her. The feeling so new, so unexpected it slayed him. Of course, there were plenty of pack females, but Louis didn’t desire them. Their disdain for him—because of his scar and his role as pack enforcer—didn’t enamor them to him. It had been years since he’d felt real lust. Now, though, his wolf had to hold itself utterly under control so he didn’t tear down the hill and rip every single man to shreds before claiming the blonde as his. He wanted to take her under the bright light of the full moon. No. His wolf needed to stay calm. He should watch. Watch and wait as the humans played their stupid games.

  Gods, her scent. He made his mind up. He would not tell the pack. Not yet. It went against his nature. Always loyal to his friends and pack, he’d found something to supersede his loyalty. Desire. For the first time in his long life, Louis didn’t want to put others first. He’d compromise. Stay and watch over her until he came to a decision.

  The moon rose higher in the sky, and the wolf settled down in the undergrowth, ready for a long night.

  Chapter One

  My head pounded when I tried to lift it from the pillow. Why, oh, why did I think I could drink Dave and Gregg under the table? Why did I care one way or the other what they thought of me? Then it hit me, as always. The sick feeling. I cared because they were best friends with Jason, aka The Bastard, and they’d tell him what a laugh I’d been this week. How I didn’t care one bit that he’d dumped me for a size eight brunette with huge, fake tits and even faker personality.

  This camping trip, with my friends and Jason’s friends together, had been organized for months. Then Jason dropped his bombshell, and I’d faced a choice. Either come along and put on an Oscar-worthy performance of not giving a shit in the hopes it got back to him, or stay at home, tail between my legs. I’d chosen to come. Currently, my head regretted it. My stomach, too. As soon as I moved, it roiled in protest.

  I got up and unzipped the tent, needing fresh air. Cindy slept on. Her mouth hung open and soft snores escaped. The tent nearest us held Gregg and Dave. The next one, Sue and Sam. The two S’s as we all called them. Another couple in our group. A wave of fresh pain hit me. The utter bastard.

  I didn’t love him, thank God. My sadness came from once again being let down. My romantic history contained a tattered trail of broken promises and feckless bastards. Jason and I had been friends with benefits. Friends with very good benefits. He’d been hot. Handsome in a boy-band way all the girls loved. He wore cool clothes, hung out at the hottest bars, and turned out to be good in the sack.

  We’d met in the university bar on campus during the first week of our third year. How we’d managed not to lay eyes on one another before then, who knew? But the university was huge. Thousands of students passed through its hallowed halls each year.

  We’d been together for a year and a bit. A fun-filled, hot and heavy year. Then, as life seemed to be looking up, when I’d graduated and finally landed a job, he dumped me for fake Roz.

  Bile clawed at my throat, and it wasn’t only last night’s alcohol wanting to come back up. I needed to shake off my hangover—and my pity party. The best way would be a run. Exercise always helped me feel better. The only time I’d missed working out had been when I’d contracted the flu. Proper, dead in bed for two weeks, flu. Hideous. Other than having the flu, whenever I felt like crap, I pushed through it and ran. I wasn’t stupid, though. So I headed back into the tent and a
te an energy bar, chased down with a pint of water.

  After letting it settle for thirty minutes, and satisfied I didn’t feel about to puke, I changed into some shorts, a racerback tank with built-in bust support, plus my heavy-duty sports bra underneath. Last, I pulled on running shoes.

  “What are you doing?” Cindy opened one bleary eye.

  “Going for a run.”

  “You’re soft in the head, you are.” She snorted. “No one runs with a hangover…except for you.”

  “Yeah, well, when you’re feeling dreadful this evening, and I’m raring to go again, I’ll not say told you so.” I gave her a pat on the shoulder.

  Cindy grinned. That full-on gorgeous beam of hers, which lit up her whole face. In the low glow of the tent, her mahogany skin gleamed. She wore her hair cropped close to her head and could have been a supermodel if she wanted. Cindy didn’t want. Cindy wanted to be a doctor. So, while I’d finished my studies, hers stretched ahead for years yet.

  Why someone as brainy and beautiful as she singled out someone as ordinary as me to be her friend, I didn’t understand. I was so grateful she had. I loved her like a sister.

  “Don’t go getting lost,” she said.

  “Got my map and my compass.”

  “Oh, right, if you have the compass, then you’re covered.” She rolled her eyes.

  Cindy and the great outdoors weren’t the best of friends. She hardly exercised, ate whatever the hell she wanted, and still looked beautifully willowy. I, on the other hand, worked my butt off and wore a dress size four times bigger.

  Today, though, I ran for reasons other than fitness. To shake off my hangover, but also to try to shake this awful, aching need I’d been filled with since we’d pitched up here. It figured the minute my boyfriend left me, I’d turn into the horniest woman on the planet. As soon as we’d arrived in the clearing and set the tents up, it began. Desire. It unfolded low and heady in my belly, making me ache, hot and damp, between my legs. I couldn’t even take care of myself with Cindy next to me. So I’d tossed and turned half the night, squeezing my legs together and enjoying the momentary frisson it gave.

  Why I’d turned into this needy thing, I had no clue. Perhaps because Jason had left me, cruelly shutting off the hot-sex tap? And now I had days stuck out here with the gang, pretending to feel…nothing. Ugh. I should have said no to this trip and gone out with my biker friends. People were always shocked a girl like me rode a badass motorbike, but I’d gotten into it when I was young through my dad. Before he’d dropped all his hobbies in favor of the drink.

  Time to discover some inner peace. I set off at a jog. I made sure I carried a map, compass, water, and snacks in my lightweight backpack. Heading down the trail, leaving our campsite, and into the woods beyond, I listened to the birds in the trees. No traffic sounds ruined the moment. We’d picked this place as it perched right on the edge of a vast wilderness. We’d needed the off-roaders we’d hired to even get this far. Any farther, and we’d only be able to hike in over rough terrain. We’d still faced a three-mile walk to the campground after parking the cars. From this point, another twenty or so miles of wild nature lay between the sea and us.

  I remembered my surprise when we’d looked into where to go, to find such a vast area of unspoiled land. The UK was hardly a big country. We were a small island and densely populated, so the idea of so much untouched nature appealed to the romantic in me. In us all. Hence, our trip out here.

  I wanted to come back one day. With a friend or two, but without the lads who only wanted to get drunk. I’d like to bike up here then hike the trail to the Knoydart Peninsula and spend a week there. Maybe it should be a trip I’d save for and do next year. This wild place called to my soul.

  After twenty minutes, I stopped running and sat on a rock, letting my heart rate slow down. I’d covered a fair bit of ground and didn’t want to get lost. Rummaging in my bag, I grabbed the water bottle, took a swig, and stowed it away again. A twig snapped to the right of me, and I jumped. I turned around and bit back a scream. A man stood not two feet away from me. Watching me.

  Man being the operative word for him. He was no boy. Not pretty and young with artfully styled hair like the guys I knew. Nor did he have the stuffy, academic vibe of most of the older men in my life. This specimen was like nothing I’d seen before. Tall, at least six four or five, and broad, he radiated raw, primal masculinity. Christ, the width of his shoulders…

  He stared at me with an unfathomable expression on his harsh face, and my legs went weak. I struggled to breathe. I didn’t want to die here in this wooded copse, and something about the way he looked at me terrified me. Like a predator watches its prey, his focus never left me.

  Should I speak? Wait for him to speak? Stand up and make a run for it? If I bolted out of here, I’d look stupid. Then again, I remembered how so many people got hurt because they didn’t listen to their instincts. Instead, they gave in to societal norms about how to act. They put those social norms—seeming normal, polite—above their own instincts and safety. Being a qualified psychologist meant I came stuffed full of random facts about human behavior.

  The way this guy observed me was way weird. I needed to act on what my gut told me and get away.

  A plan formed in my mind as we remained locked in place, our eyes glued on one another. His were green. Stunning, emerald green, in fact. They contrasted with his dark hair and almost glowed in his rugged face. A long, jagged scar cut through one side of his mouth and down his jaw. A shiver tore through me. I needed to get away.

  My ace plan went something like this: start to talk, act completely normal, casual even. Stand and stretch, move around some…and then run like hell once I’d meandered a certain distance away from him.

  “Nice weather.” How British. About to be murdered by a freaky, silent man in the woods and I talk about the weather.

  “It is.” He nodded.

  If I hadn’t been scared out of my mind, I think I’d have found him attractive. Not my usual type. Too big and brawny. Too male. I liked them slender and pretty…boyish. Maybe it’s because you feel safe with those boy-men. I certainly wouldn’t be safe with this specimen, even if he didn’t mean me actual harm. An image flashed into my mind, searing itself on my brain. Him above me, big arms either side of me, trapping me beneath him. Holy hell! Adrenaline spiked my system, and it held more than fear. A sharp edge of arousal mixed in with my panic and growing worry.

  I understood the psychology of fear. How it could at times lend itself to other feelings. Arousal being one of them. I needed to get a grip and get the hell out of there.

  “I like days like this.” I edged around him, meandering as if I had nowhere to go. Nowhere to be. I looked down at the flowers and then back at him, schooling my face into a relaxed smile. “Warm, but not so hot you can’t exercise.”

  “You’ve been running?” His accent puzzled me. Not the normal Scot’s inflection I’d come to know and love. It held a hint of something else. Something harder edged. Almost…Nordic sounding. Like the actress from the gloomy Norwegian TV show whom I’d seen interviewed the other day.

  “Yes. Getting some exercise in. My friends are lazing around at our campsite.” I shrugged, aiming for casual, but letting him know I wasn’t alone. There were people who’d miss me if I didn’t get back, and he needed to understand as much.

  As I edged around to the right of him, I looked back toward him and my heart stuttered. Livid, jagged lines ran down his neck too. One heck of a scar, it made his air of danger even more threatening. I stared at him. Wondered how the hell anyone got marked in such a way? Then…I ran.

  Something snapped within me, and I turned tail and pounded back through the woods. My feet flew over the ground, sure and steady, thanks to my years of trail running. I didn’t look back, only wanting to get away and reach the safety of my friends. His laughter drifted after me.

  Chapter Two

  The gang cracked the drinks open once more as night fell, but I took
it easy. I nursed one beer for hours, letting the lads’ chatter wash over me. Sue and Cindy were playing chess by the light of the fire. I halfheartedly read a schlocky horror story on my Kindle, thankful I’d bought the device with the lit screen. I wasn’t in the mood for talking this evening.

  Nearly a week of this seemed like a long time. It stretched before me. Staying in the wilderness suited my mood; it was the company that got to me. I hated having to hang around with all The Bastard’s friends and act upbeat and normal. The weird edge of arousal hadn’t left me either. Perhaps I needed to change my pill. I’d read somewhere about side effects including rampant horniness for some women. I certainly felt rampant. I worried even Gregg might start to seem attractive. Cocky, brash, and callous, Gregg generally irritated me. When we’d first met, I’d been impressed by his pretty-boy looks. Sadly, those looks came with a side of vain and a none too bright personality. Not to mention the way misogyny ran through him to his core. Gregg didn’t like women. He used them for his own pleasure then trash-talked them afterward.

  I hid a laugh as he flicked his shoulder-length, wavy hair. Gregg thought he looked like Harry Styles. He didn’t.

  “Hey, Iz.” Cindy’s voice broke through my musings. “I’m turning in. You coming?”

  “Yeah. Be there in two seconds.” I wanted a few minutes to myself before becoming cocooned in our small tent with Cindy.

  Walking away from the campfire, I headed down the trail a ways. A small clearing stood about two minutes from where we’d pitched up. I wanted to look at the stars without the glow of the fire and the lights from all the phones and iPads we’d brought with us. None of the devices picked up a signal out here, bad planning on our part, but at least we could play games and read on them. The area was near enough for me to be heard if I shouted, but far enough for a moment of solitude. I didn’t dare go too far after my strange encounter with the unsettling man.