Kristina stretched, her body feeling the stiffness of the hours of walking and working in the woods, even if it was warmer than her homelands. Still, it had been a long time since she’d done as much hard physical labor, and her body was still getting used to it again.

“How’s that graft looking?” Magnus asked her from the next tree over, his safety belt and spikes allowing him to be twenty feet in the air next to her. Kristina lowered her arms, rolling out her neck and flashing him a thumbs-up.

“Good. When did you say you put this in?”

“About nine years ago. It was after a winter storm took off the upper half of a lot of these trees,” he said, grinning. “Keith said I was nuts to try it, that it’d be smarter to just cut them down and graft the trunks or try new seedlings, but he let me try these dozen trees. I like to come up here at least once a year to check them out.”

“Well, it’s looking great,” she called back, looking around at the grove of maples. “You said these came from Canada?”

“That’s what they tell me. I just took the grafting shoots,” Magnus admitted. “But I’ve checked the leaf pattern, and it’s pretty consistent with the Canadian maple.”

“They do look right,” Kristina admitted. “How’s the syrup from them?”

“I’m going to give them another year before I tap them, honestly,” Magnus said, starting down the tree. “There’s another grove that’s going to be tapped this afternoon. Come on, let’s get over there.”

Kristina headed down the tree, shucking her gear when she got to the ground and undoing the heavy belt that she used as a support. She was impressed, watching Magnus go down the tree. He did it nearly as well as some of the lumberjacks she knew, and she had to remind herself that despite his supposed title as a secretary or personal assistant or whatever they wanted to call it, he’d spent years as a forest ranger and knew these woods like the back of his hand.

It surprised her, really, watching him move. He was slightly smaller than the average Lycan, but he moved with a sinuous grace that told her he was still strong, still powerful. It stirred a desire in her that she’d held in check for a very long time. For so long, she’d wondered if she was insane to have the ideas she did up until a little over a year ago. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

As they made their way through the forest, Kristina thought about how much she’d enjoyed the week. Each day was filled with meaningful, hard work, which appealed to the Aklark side of her. The ability to use her strength, to move logs, to climb and heave—it was something she carried deep inside her, and she loved the feeling. There was no trimming of herbs here, no stooping to work inside a greenhouse that was made that way to save heat, no crawling on her knees to save her lower back.

And the nights were just as good. Having dinner with Magnus and the other manor staff, she felt accepted. Even though she was Aklark, they all treated her with respect and with a sense of being one of the group, warming to her presence around the manor.

Even better were the long talks with Magnus. He was a voracious listener as she told him everything she’d seen over the weeks prior to her coming south. Even more, though, he listened as she told him about her memories growing up. Not everything. Some things were too painful to tell. But enough that she felt closer to Magnus after a single week than she’d been to any man in her entire life.

A week after arriving, Edward and Kimberly came up again, enjoying the manor as a family with their children. For the first day, it was great. Kristina loved children, and watching the two hybrid children shift back and forth made her grin. Despite her fears, the hybrid Lycan/Aklark form was, at least at their young age, adorable, like two fuzzy fluffy balls of energy. They cavorted and played on the back lawn, rolling and tumbling over each other, nipping and growling as Kim and Edward played with their children. It was glorious, and Kristina was even able to cuddle with tiny Valerie, a highlight for her.

That night, though, as Kristina was sitting in the library on the second floor and reading a book on Lycan history that she found intriguing, she heard something from the main bedchambers next door.

“Mmm . . . is that what my big bear likes?”

“You know I do . . . just like I know you like this . . .”

“Ohh, yes . . .”

It took Kristina only a moment to realize what was going on, and she laid her head back, growling lightly in frustration. “Shit.”

A day of watching children, of seeing a happily mated couple, of spending time with children . . . now this? Closing her book with a snap, Kristina got up and left the library, wishing for the first time in years that being Aklark didn’t mean having super-sensitive hearing. Despite the thick oaken doors and more, walking past Kim and Edward’s chambers was like listening to very hot, very passionate phone sex, and her body throbbed with a need that she didn’t want to admit to herself.

She turned the corner to her wing of the house when she ran, literally, into Magnus, and with one look at his face, she knew that he was feeling the same way she was. “Hey.”

“You get used to it,” Magnus said, his breath shuddering in his chest. “At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been on a five-year-long dry spell, so excuse me if I don’t want to just listen,” Kristina said, her eyes looking over Magnus. He was so handsome, and listening to the sexcapades going on just down the hall had turned the little whispers that she’d been trying to resist since coming to the manor and starting to work with him into a roaring song of desire. It was a song she didn’t want to hear. “I’m gonna dump this in my room and then get the hell out of here for a while. I figure if I put a mile of forest between them and me, I won’t have to listen to it anymore.”

“I’ll come with,” Magnus said, causing her to stop and turn to look at him. He flushed, shrugging. “I could use a walk too.”

“Then let’s go. The book can wait,” Kristina said, putting the book down on a side table and going down the stairs. She grabbed a light jacket from the coat rack next to the door and pulled it on, part of her glad that Magnus was right next to her.

Outside, the cool air helped slightly as they walked along the gravel path that wound through the gardens and past the guest quarters, her feet crunching on the rocks. Her body still thrummed with frustration, but the freezing air at least provided a bit of a distraction.

As they walked, Kristina looked up at the moon in the sky, which was nearly half-full now and barely visible through the heavy clouds that covered most of the sky. “What’s it like?” she asked, trying to change the subject. It was at least a question she’d wondered about for a long time. “You’ve got a full moon next week.”

Magnus looked up at the moon, then at Kristina. “I guess it’s hard to describe, really. How would you describe your own change?”

Kristina thought, struggling over the words before going with her instinct. “It’s powerful, at first. I mean, I’m strong already, but as I shift, I feel something open inside me. When I’m in bear form, I feel invincible.”

“I feel the same in wolf form,” Magnus said, nodding. “The change, though . . . before the pleasure and freedom of being a wolf, there’s something that even after living with it for my entire life, there’s an instant there that makes me wish I were just a normal human.”

“What do you mean?” Kristina asked, looking at him. “I’ve lived with Lycans my whole life, and I haven’t heard anything about regrets.”

Magnus chuckled darkly. “We don’t talk about the pain that much. You know the pain, right?”

Kristina shook her head, and Magnus blinked in surprise. “Really?”

“Really. What is the pain?”

Magnus cleared his throat, looking back up at the moon. “There are a few seconds there, as our bodies rearrange, that is the most intense pain that you can imagine. Every muscle is tearing, every bone breaking and reforming so that not only do you have the pain of the injury, but the pain of healing all lying on top of each other, magnified and intensified to the point that some new Lycans go at least temporarily insane the first time it happens. It’s why the Lockwoods have a rule that states we only induct a human into Lycanhood right after the full moon.”

“Why?” Kristina asked. “The link?”

Magnus nodded. “The link is strongest between sire and progeny at first. It gives the best chance to prepare the new Lycan, as the sire can share as many hints and memories as they can to help prepare. But what about the Aklark?”

“There’s no pain for me,” Kristina admitted. “There’s a blurred moment where my mind seems to float, but then it comes back and I’m in my bear form. That moment is actually sort of pleasant. It’s a total release from everything.”

Magnus was about to say something when a rumbling growl came from the manor, followed by a feminine howl of pleasure that stopped his words. “Well . . .”

“Are they always this loud?” Kristina grumbled. “Remind me next time, and I’ll go camping.”

“It gets louder,” Magnus admitted. “You should hear Keith and Melanie when they’re in town. Sounds like a whole wolf pack. There’s a reason the Towers are built with triple-thick insulation in every wall, and it’s not for the ecological needs. It’s for . . .”

“Stopping temptation?” Kristina asked, her breath catching in her throat. The way Magnus was half-turned toward the manor, his face perfectly balanced between the moonlight and the soft light from the manor’s windows, his eyes half haunted from the sounds going on inside, half filled with desire as he turned to look at her. “I’m surprised clan gatherings don’t turn into orgies.”

“They sometimes can,” Magnus said, his eyes glowing with desire as he looked at her. “A domino effect.”

He stepped toward her, his hands going to her waist even as she reached for the lapels on his jacket, and suddenly, they were kissing, his strong lips and feral teeth crushing into hers. She kissed back, moaning with desire as she ran her hands over his chiseled body through his jacket, feeling the tight muscles and powerful form that she’d been watching for a week.

Magnus pulled her tighter, his hands going to cup her ass, and she moaned. It’d been so long since a man had touched her like this, let alone a man like Magnus, a man who was more—

“No,” Magnus said, pushing back and shuddering. “Not like this.”

“Like what?” Kristina asked, painfully aware of the way her nipples ached inside her bra and the warmth growing between her legs. “Because I’m Aklark?”

“Huh?” Magnus asked, then shook his head. “No, Kristina. You’re a woman first, at least in my eyes. But . . . I’m not going to be driven to this because I hear Kim and Edward going at it. I don’t care how long it’s been for me.”

“How long?” Kristina asked, biting her lip and trying not to just jump on Magnus and throw him to the ground. He might be a potential Alpha, according to her estimation, but she was easily his equal in strength.

“Since?” Magnus asked, then shook his head. “Four years. Or fourteen, depending on how you mean.”

“Five,” Kristina said, swallowing. She didn’t know what Magnus meant, but her mind was whirling with desire to feel his hands on her skin, to feel his lips against hers again, to have him quell the aching need that she’d been feeling. “That’s a lot of walks in the snow.”

Magnus took a shuddering breath, stepping toward Kristina again, when suddenly, a flake of snow drifted down between them to settle on her nose, and she twitched, feeling it melt on her skin. Magnus stopped as a second flake fell, and they looked up, seeing the first of the flurries descend from the sky.

“One more snow shower then, perhaps,” Magnus said, shaking his head. “I think I’ll go to my room. I’ve got some good headphones in there. I’ll listen to music. Goodnight, Kristina. I . . . it was a nice walk.”

Kristina watched Magnus go inside and turned to look up at the moon as the clouds swallowed it, shivering despite not being cold. What was she doing?

She was more than Aklark. She was an outcast . . . and he was a Lycan.

There was no way it could happen.

But that didn’t stop her need or the desire that was running around in her head and coursing through her body.