After spending half the afternoon searching for apparently nonexistent gaps in the sanctuary’s fence, Brandy tended to the other wolves—because, oh yeah, fifteen other wolves lived at Silver Moon. Her mind had been so ultra-focused on Alator that her other sweet babies had been neglected. She made up for it with some playtime and extra treats, which appeared to be enough reparation on her part. She’d received happy licks and appreciative nuzzles from the pack and had made her way back to the house.

Where her eyes zeroed in on the one wolf who had completely stolen her heart.

Why? What in the world was so freaking special about Alator? Yes, he was bigger than the other wolves at Silver Moon, but it was more than that. Behind those green-gold eyes of his, Brandy saw… something.

“Hey, big boy,” she whispered as she approached his bed and got to her knees beside it.

The TV was on, and Dylan was sprawled on the couch, snoring like a much, much bigger human. Gently, she nudged him over to his left side, getting him off his back and silencing the roaring Mack truck sounds. He mumbled something about not wanting peas with dinner then buried his face in the couch cushions, continuing his nap.

Chuckling to herself, Brandy slid Dylan’s comic book onto the coffee table then turned her attention back to Alator who was now looking at her. His head was slightly raised off the fluffy bed as if to say, I’m not sleeping. Do you want to chat?

“Yeah, I do want to chat, buddy.” She sat on the floor by the bed and ran her hands up and down Alator’s front paws. His eyes disappeared in that face of black for a minute then focused back on her. “I’ve actually got a few questions that need answering.” She moved on to rubbing his jagged ear.

A low grumble vibrated out of him, followed by a tail wag and a paw over his nose, as if he were hiding from her.

“Oh, you don’t want to answer questions?” She grabbed his paw and pulled it off his snout. He licked her hand, his tongue rough yet warm. “Wolf kisses will do you no good. I want to know how you got to the other side of the fence, big boy. Because it’s not broken anywhere.”

She stared at him, half expecting an answer to flow from his canine lips. Of course, that was ridiculous. Wolves didn’t talk. Not with words anyway.

“Are you magical or something? You appeared in the woods out of nowhere. I can’t determine where you came from. You heal quickly from serious wounds. And then you can escape like Houdini. What’s that all about?”

Alator rolled to his back, a small whine sounding as he no doubt moved his injured leg too much. He managed to stay on his back though, his front paws hanging in front of him and his head tilted at a coy, aren’t-I-adorable manner.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re super cute, but that’s not what we’re talking about.”

“And what does one talk to wolves about?” Meredith walked into the living room carrying a glass of iced tea. She handed it to Brandy and sat in the recliner perpendicular to the couch.

Brandy took a swig of the tea, relishing its cool descent down her throat. Walking the entire perimeter of the sanctuary and playing with the other wolves out there in the summer temperatures had heated her up pretty good.

“Right now I’m grilling this one about how the hell he got outside the sanctuary.” She angled her hands at Alator who had rolled back to his side, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, making her laugh.

“Let me guess,” Meredith said. “No fence issues.”

“Not a one. It’s as if he somehow beamed himself out.”

“The new question then is why he felt he needed to be on the other side. What did he see? What did he want? Where was he going?” Meredith settled deeper into the recliner, looking as if she might follow Dylan’s lead and take a nap as well.

Where was he going? That question bugged Brandy. Had Alator been trying to leave? Did he not like it at Silver Moon? Was there somewhere else he’d rather be?

Brandy squeezed her eyes shut. She wasn’t going to get answers to those questions either, so what was the point in thinking them? She looked back down at Alator. He met her gaze directly, and a vision of Reardon looking at her after they’d made love last night zipped across her mind, making her jolt.

What was that about? More importantly, what time was it?

She squinted at the time on the cable box under the TV and popped up. “Oh, shit!”

“What’s the matter?” Meredith opened one eye.

“I nearly forgot Reardon was coming by for dinner. I haven’t even cooked anything.” She pulled at her blood-stained shorts and brushed at her dirty knees. “I need to shower and change and…” She took a step toward the stairs then stepped back to Alator’s bed then pivoted again.

“Whoa there, missy.” Meredith got up and clamped her hands on Brandy’s shoulders to still her. “First of all, I started dinner already. Lasagna, veggies, fresh baked bread. Secondly…” She backed up a step and gave Brandy a judging once-over. “Uh, yeah, go take that shower.” She turned Brandy toward the stairs and gave her a little nudge. “Go on. And put on that purple sundress. It shows off your killer biceps nicely.”

“Mom…”

“What? Reardon strikes me as a man who likes killer biceps on a woman.” Meredith shrugged and settled back on the recliner after she swiped the remote from under Dylan.

Brandy took the stairs two at a time. She popped in her bedroom and did a quick tidy of the area, assuming—hoping, really—she and Reardon would be making use of the room again tonight. A buzzy giddiness she rather liked filled her.

After rummaging around in her closet for the dress Meredith had indicated, she skipped into the bathroom. Yeah, skipped. She indulged in a lavender-scented body wash as she scrubbed away the craziness of the day.

Forty-five minutes later she was as primped as she got, wearing the dress with a pair of silver sandals, her long red hair curled and gathered in a loose ponytail at the base of her neck. She’d pulled a few tendrils out to frame her face and had adorned her ears with amethyst teardrop earrings.

She felt… sexy.

Would Reardon think she was? He’d appeared to like her more casual look last night. What she looked like right now could only be considered an upgrade. He was a man after all. Surely he had to appreciate long, exposed legs and soft waves of red hair.

Right?

Shit. Why was she nervous all of a sudden? She hadn’t been nervous yesterday. She’d been aggressive and confident, knowing exactly what she wanted from Reardon and what she wanted to give him. Yesterday had been about thanking him for saving her and Dylan, though.

Tonight?

Well, tonight was because she wanted him. Pure and simple.

She made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen where Dylan and Meredith were eating at the small kitchen table. “Hey, why are you guys eating already?”

“We were hungry,” Meredith said. “Besides, the kid’s challenged me to a chess game and I simply cannot refuse such a challenge.”

Dylan giggled as Meredith poked him in his side with her index finger. “You’re gonna regret it, Gram. I plan to crush you.”

“Is that any way to talk to your dear, sweet granny?”

“Sweet?” Brandy let out a laugh. “You haven’t been sweet since… since… you’ve actually never been sweet.”

“Watch it.” Meredith gathered her plate and Dylan’s and stood. “I might forget I left something here and have to come back for it. I mean, I wouldn’t want to interrupt, but…”

Brandy gave her mother a narrow-eyed look then they smiled at each other.

“What would you interrupt, Gram?” Dylan’s blue gaze flicked between Brandy and Meredith as the two of them gaped back at the boy in silence.

“Stuff,” Meredith finally said. “Finish your milk.” She gestured to his still-full glass then turned back to Brandy with a smirk. “I left two salads in the refrigerator and the lasagna is keeping warm in the oven.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Brandy gave Meredith’s arm a squeeze. “What would I do without you?”

“Someday you’ll find out, but not for a very, very, very long time.” Meredith folded Brandy into a hug as Dylan took his empty milk glass to the dishwasher.

“Why are you all dressed up?” He frowned at Brandy’s dress and sandals. It was rare for the kid to see her all gussied up. She rarely gussied. Silver Moon apparel and shorts or cargo pants were the uniform of choice at the sanctuary.

“Reardon is coming over. I thought it might be nice if I dressed up.” Brandy bit her bottom lip as she waited for Dylan’s reaction to that.

He bent to tie his shoe. When he stood again, he tilted his head at her. “You like him?”

“I do.” Another moment of holding her breath. This wasn’t territory the two of them ventured into often. Brandy had only dated a few guys through the years, and Dylan had been much younger then. Now he was aware of things.

“Me, too. He’s cool.”

Brandy let the breath she’d been holding sift out. “I’m glad you like him too.”

Dylan didn’t say anything more about the topic. Instead he tugged on Meredith’s hand. “I want to play with my chess set. Can you help me pack it up?”

“But of course, child.” Meredith gave Brandy a little salute followed by a wink. “Have fun.”

Brandy waved as her mother left the kitchen with Dylan. She spent a few moments tidying then set the patio table for dinner with Reardon. They’d enjoyed last night out there by the fire and it was shaping up to be another glorious evening outside.

After she’d finished, she picked a bouquet of wildflowers and vased them in an old mason jar. That seemed a fitting centerpiece for the table. Glancing at the clock when she came back into the kitchen, she realized they’d never actually mentioned a specific dinner time for tonight. It was 6:30 now. Reardon had to be on his way.

God, I hope he’s on his way. Because she was stupidly eager to see him. After the day’s events, she wanted to kick back and look at something pretty. Reardon was definitely something pretty.

Walking into the living room and noting that Dylan’s shoes were gone from where he’d kicked them off by the couch, she looked at Alator who was also something pretty. He was still on the bed, curled up in a tight ball. Well, as tight a ball as a wolf his size could manage.

“Feeling better?” She carefully kneeled by the bed, trying her best not to let her dress touch the wolf or the floor.

Alator grumbled like an old man then sniffed at the bandage on his leg.

“Being shot sucks, huh?” Not that she’d know, thank God. “Maybe you’ll stay on our side of the fence now.” She didn’t want to think about what Hank Swift might do if he encountered one of her wolves again.

Speaking of Hank.

Brandy got up and found her cell phone on the coffee table. She swiped the screen, but didn’t see any messages so she texted Parker.

What happened with sheriff?

She tapped her finger on the side of the phone as she waited. A few seconds later the phone let out a quiet wolf howl, signaling she had an incoming message.

Olsen is checking on HS’s gun permits. Trying to see if it’s all legal.

Well, that was a start at least, but knowing Swift, he had all the proper permits. He took his guns seriously.

If that goes nowhere, not giving up, Parker texted. Wolves must be protected.

Brandy texted back, Otherwise what is our point?

Roger that, Boss. Security cams got installed while you were inspecting fence. I stopped in and met with guy. Will show you how they work tomorrow.

She glanced at Alator. His green-gold eyes were tracking her every movement. She felt like… like prey. Of course all the wolves at the sanctuary were wild at heart. She could think all she wanted that she’d tamed them, but it wouldn’t take much for any one of them to rip into her. She obviously hoped that never happened, but the way Alator looked at her right now was a good reminder of the strength and agility rippling under all that fur.

K. Thanks. Feel better with cams, she texted. Plans tonight?

Chella’s father’s birthday dinner. Kinda boring, but at least there’s lobster.

Just like Parker to be thinking of his stomach.

Have fun. Later.

See u tomorrow.

She dropped her phone back on the coffee table and sat on the edge of the couch, fluffing the skirt of her dress out around her so as not to wrinkle it. Alator still had his eyes on her.

“What?” She rolled her eyes. “Do I look that desperate?”

Alator let out a short bark.

“Is that a yes? You’d better take it back if it was a yes.” She held her fist out at him, shaking it slightly.

The wolf put his paw over his nose again, and she had to laugh.

“I’ve never seen you so coy, Alator.” Unable to resist, she got back to her knees by the bed. Why was she drawn like a magnet to this wolf? She rubbed his exposed tummy and his good back leg swung back and forth rapidly. “Careful now. You’re supposed to be taking it easy.”

She put her hands in her lap, but Alator maneuvered until he could nudge her hands with his nose.

“Hey, watch it. You’re going to ruin my dress.” She swatted playfully at his nose then rubbed between his eyes until the green-gold fire of his gaze disappeared behind black fur. “Maybe I changed up too soon. I’d love to cuddle with you, buddy, but this outfit is not for cuddling.” She thought of Reardon. “Not for cuddling with wolves anyway.”

Cuddling with men could be accomplished in the dress, though. Cuddling out of the dress would be great too.

If the man, like, ever arrived.

Brandy looked at the clock on the TV again. 7:00. Surely, Reardon was on his way now. There’d be a soft knock on her door at any moment. She’d answer and have to look up—way up—to meet his unusual eyes. She’d greet him with a kiss. Or was that too forward?

I slept with him the first day I met him. What could be more forward than that? Too late to be shy.

So, yeah. She’d greet him with a kiss, feed him, and hopefully have an encore performance of last night’s activities.

A slow ripple of excitement flitted through her as she sat back on the couch. She’d wait for that knock and let another magical evening with her personal hot hero unfold.

****

Brandy’s lovely chest rose and fell as she dozed on the couch near Reardon’s bed. She’d taken a seat to wait for him in his human form. When he hadn’t shown after an hour, she’d rested her head against the back of the couch. She’d let a few curse words fly then closed her eyes. Asleep now for two hours, she hadn’t budged from her position.

He was a terrible person for standing her up, but it couldn’t be helped. The situation demanded he stay in wolf form. Nothing he could do about it. Plus, he was exhausted and angry and wishing he could take a bite out of Hank Swift. If it weren’t for that bastard, Reardon would be slow dancing on the patio with Brandy in his arms. Instead he was forced to merely watch her while his leg healed.

And what was an acceptable time for a bullet wound to heal when you were a werewolf? His battlefield injuries had never lasted long. A few days at most. His biggest scar on his left side across his ribs had been from a slash with a broad sword. That had taken three days to heal. If the ache in his leg now was any indication, this bullet wound would take about that long too.

How am I going to stay away from Brandy for that long in human form?

But he’d have to. Especially if she was planning to keep such a close watch over his wolf form and keep him in the house. No sneaking off under those conditions.

Not that he wanted to sneak off. Leaving Silver Moon Sanctuary was the last thing he wanted. He’d be quite content to live out his many years right there on that beautiful property. In the company of a beautiful woman and her beautiful son.

That wasn’t possible though, was it? Flidae had told him so. If he wanted Brandy and Dylan to be safe, he’d have to follow Flidae’s rules—do something worthy and go back to Ireland. How was he supposed to survive in his time now? He’d seen too many modern inventions. He’d come to understand how life worked in the future. He’d grown accustomed to the feel of life in this time, in this place, with these people. Going back to his Ireland would be like taking a million steps backward in time. Would he be able to stand that way of life?

Would he be able to go back to being a warrior, bent on killing for riches?

No. That Reardon McAlator was gone. Of that he was sure. He didn’t want to be a killer anymore. He didn’t want to be alone. What did he want instead?

He zoomed in on Brandy as she shifted on the couch and brought her toned legs up underneath her.

That’s what I want right there.

Brandy had taken him into her world, cared for him, shared her time with him. She showed the wolves the same affection she showed the important people in her life as if they were all her family. She didn’t see a distinction between people and wolves.

Which could work in his favor once he revealed what he was. Maybe she’d easily transfer her feelings for Alator, the wolf, to Reardon McAlator, the man.

And then I’ll have to leave her.

He let out a low grumble and huffed out some air. These thoughts were doing him no good. Neither was being on that bed. Immobile wasn’t something he did very often… or very well. Besides, Brandy was all the way over there on the couch. Too far away in his mind.

Gingerly, he got to his three good legs and stretched, careful to keep his injured leg from taking any of his weight. Moving at an embarrassing speed, Reardon maneuvered to the couch. He sniffed a line along Brandy’s leg and when she didn’t stir, he hoisted himself up onto the cushion beside her. He banged his hurt leg slightly and had to bite back a howl of pain.

Brandy still didn’t move, so he inched closer until he could rest his head on her hip. As soon as his chin touched her, however, her entire body jolted, scaring him. He reared back and fell off the couch, landing on his bad leg.

The howl ripped from his throat now.

“Oh my GOD!” Brandy popped off the couch and immediately got on her hands and knees beside him, not seeming to care about her dress now. “I’m so sorry, big boy.” She leaned over him, dropping kisses all over his muzzle and his ears, spending a few extra seconds on his damaged left ear. Gods, he loved when she touched that ear, as if she accepted him no matter his imperfections.

He sat still, hoping Brandy would keep kissing and touching him forever, but after checking on his wounded leg, she eventually got to her feet and brushed the wrinkles out of her dress.

“Well, I guess this is all the kissing that’s going to happen tonight.” She gestured at herself. “Perfectly good waste of a dress.”

Reardon wished he could tell her the dress had not been wasted. He’d enjoyed seeing her look so fantastic. Of course, she looked fantastic naked too. Really fantastic. He’d been looking forward to making love to her again tonight, hence why he’d jumped the fence in the first place. Being a wolf and a man had never been this difficult. His life was much simpler when he’d just been a warrior who paid little attention to weak-minded things such as feelings.

“9:30. I guess it’s time to admit defeat on this one and put on the jammies.” She unleashed a long, loud sigh, her bare shoulders sagging as she slunk away toward the stairs. “Be right back, buddy.”

She trudged up the stairs and Reardon considered shifting right there in the living room. He desperately wanted to follow her up those stairs, but he’d be no more able to do that in human form than he could in wolf form. His leg really hurt now that he’d fallen off the couch. Shifting to human would intensify that pain at least tenfold. He’d also scare Brandy if he suddenly appeared behind her as a human. A naked human.

So he waited. Right there. On the living room floor.

When Brandy came back downstairs, she had on a pair of purple cotton shorts and a matching tank top. She looked sexy and comfortable at the same time. Reardon couldn’t decide if he preferred this look or the dressy look. Quite possibly he’d like any look on Brandy.

“All righty.” She blew out a breath and gathered her hair in a messy bun. “Now that everyone is more comfortable.” She angled her head at him. “Well, you don’t look as if you’re comfortable, baby.”

Baby? Reardon McAlator had never been called baby. Under normal circumstances, he would have been enraged by such a name. But these were not normal circumstances, now were they?

“Are you hungry?” She crouched by him and leaned forward enough that he could see down her tank top. “Because I’m starving. Time to see…” Her words trailed off. “Shit, I never took Mom’s lasagna out of the oven.” She stood and padded on bare feet to the kitchen.

Reardon heard some things banging around and in a few moments, Brandy came back into the living room with a bowl of popcorn, a bottle of beer, and another bowl he couldn’t see into, but could definitely smell.

Meat.

After setting her snacks down on the coffee table, she placed the bowl of meat pieces by his head and he immediately devoured all of it.

“My, you were starving too.” She disappeared again and reappeared with a water bowl, which Reardon sloshed down too, trying his best not to dribble it all over the hardwood floors.

Brandy took the bowl away and when she came back this time, she had a bean bag chair which Reardon knew was from Dylan’s room.

“Let’s get you on your bed and I’ll sit next to you. What do you say, big boy?”

He gave one powerful thump of his tail, and Brandy laughed as she helped him slink onto his bed. The cushiony mattress was comfortable, preferable to the hard floor he’d slept on in her bedroom since Hank Swift had attacked her. He should have dragged the bed into Brandy’s bedroom weeks ago.

“There we are.” Brandy pushed the bean bag chair next to the bed, grabbed the bowl of popcorn and the TV remote. “What do you feel like watching?” She angled her head as if she were listening to a reply.

If only I could reply.

“Yes, you’re right. Definitely nothing mushy.” As her gaze turned to the TV, her jaw muscles tightened, and a hurt look crept into her lovely blue eyes that Reardon desperately wanted to erase, especially because he was responsible for causing that look.

He put his paw on her thigh and she looked down at him. I would have shown up tonight if I could have.

“What, you want something on the National Geographic Channel?” She scratched the back of his jagged ear. “So what happened here anyway?” She leaned closer, fingering the scalloped edge of the ear. “More importantly, what did the other guy look like when you were done with him?”

An excellent question. The other guy had lost his entire arm to the slash of Reardon’s broad sword. Didn’t fix his ear, but it made him feel vindicated all the same. To hear the howl of his opponent as blood gushed from the remaining stump made Reardon not care that his own ear had been sliced like a tomato, the missing piece mixing with the carnage strewn all over the battlefield. Jaemus had been the one to stitch up his ear. Hadn’t done too neat of a job either, but it was the best he could hope for so the fight could continue.

Speaking of fights continuing, where was Jaemus now? They hadn’t parted on the best of terms, his brother mad at him for bringing the curse of the wolf upon the men. Still, he wanted Jaemus to be safe. Had he gotten dumped in a time and place as nice as Reardon had? Had luck been on his side? Or was Jaemus being subjected to a hellish experience?

Would he ever see his brother again?

You will, wolf. Flidae filled the space between his ears. Another reminder that his time with Brandy was not infinite. He shook his head, earning a sideways glance from Brandy.

“Everything okay, buddy?” Her blue eyes zeroed in on his face as if she were truly waiting for him to answer.

He let out a short, quiet bark then nudged her popcorn bowl with his nose.

“Oh, you want some snacks too?” She held the bowl out of reach, but plucked out a handful of popcorn and put her cupped hand in Reardon’s reach.

He crunched the popcorn, liking the salty flavoring, loving the smell of Brandy’s skin. He decided right then and there he wanted to share popcorn with Brandy in human form as soon as possible.

“All right, let’s see what our choices are, shall we?” She used the remote to flick through the guide on the TV, mumbling to herself, sometimes shaking her head.

Words scrolled by so fast, Reardon could hardly read them before Brandy selected a choice and a dark-haired girl and a long-haired Native American boy filled the screen.

“Twilight. I’ve seen it a million times, but keep hoping things will work out in Jacob’s favor.” Brandy settled more into the bean bag chair and took a sip of her beer. “I mean, werewolves are way cooler than vampires, don’t you think, big boy?”

Werewolves?

Reardon turned his attention to the TV where the boy was walking along a gray beach with the girl. He was telling her something about a legend and descendants of wolves.

“You have to wait until the next movie to see him turn into a wolf though.” She pointed to the boy. “They did a pretty good job with the wolves, special effects-wise. At least I think so. Don’t ask Parker though. He’ll completely disagree and make fun of this entire series.” She let out a small laugh. “He’s probably right to make fun. Someone my age shouldn’t find these movies entertaining, but I can’t help myself. In fact…”

She wiggled herself out of the bean bag chair and jogged out of the room. When she returned, she had her laptop with her.

“I want to show you something.” She opened the laptop and lowered back into the bean bag chair, shifting around until she was comfortable. After tapping the keyboard for a few moments, she turned the screen toward him. “So, I’ve been collecting information on clinical lycanthropy for years. Silly, right?” She waved her hand. “Well, I don’t care if it is silly. It’s my secret hobby. No one knows except you, Alator, and you won’t tell anyone, will you?”

As she petted him and scrolled through the information, Reardon skimmed the text on the screen. Words like shifting humans, metamorphosis, transition, and canine form popped out at him.

“Most of the research concludes that people who believe they can change from human to animal are crazy, but still it’s all so fascinating.” She scratched between Reardon’s ears. “The notion of a human and an animal inhabiting the same consciousness is wild. I imagine it must be confusing.”

Only when a beautiful woman is involved.