Paxton stood at the edge of a narrow footpath, the noise from the city greeting him like a familiar cacophony. Turning toward the south, he caught a whisper in the breeze, a gentle prompt, and he raised his head and sniffed. Weird. He almost never dreamed in wolf form. Maybe it was because he’d exhausted his human side to the point it was as comatose as Evelyn.

He lifted his snout again and inhaled, his nostril flaring slightly. The moon hung in the black sky, a large yellow orb that matched his eyes. A howl formed at the back of his throat and he let the melancholy sound pierce the darkness.

He lowered his large head, his ears twitching at a sound not too far from where he stood on the path. His body tensed, sensing another dual-natured being, and he crept forward, even as ground birds took to the air overhead.

Cool air rippled across his dark fur and the scent of pine and vegetation tickled his nose. Padding down the path, the ground shifted from concrete to a soft, wet grass. He peered along the banks, every nerve ending on edge.

A young girl sat on the grassy slope above a lake. Dappled moonlight played on the ripples in the water and on her dark hair as she gazed out at the forest. He knew this place. A familiar feeling of peace flooded his limbs as an owl hooted in the distance. She stood, brushing the loose flowers and grass from her floral print dress, but didn’t turn.

Even in wolf form, his breath caught in his throat and he paused. Everything was so familiar, but not. In seconds, the dreamscape swirled and soft panting met his ears. He swiveled his large head toward the sound. A tawny cat, sleek and beautiful in the moonlight, lay prone in the mud along the same bank.

He crouched low and approached. The smell of clean loam tinged with the metallic scent of blood filled his nose. His head jerked up at the familiar trace.

Evelyn.

Pax knew he was dreaming, yet it felt so real. As if living a scene from a memory, but not his own. He shivered, knowing this surreal setting was a product of his subconscious and lack of sleep. Anticipation coursed through his body as he approached. Why were they both in animal form at a lake he knew as a child?

He snorted at the question. You’re dreaming, stupid. That’s why.

Pax came up behind her and nudged her shoulders. Gently he brushed his muzzle across her flank and she hissed. The sound was pained as well as terrified.

Evelyn, it’s me, Pax. Remember? You spilled coffee all over me at the Starbucks.

He tried the common link most shifters shared in animal form, letting his thoughts feather out to her mind. Evelyn whined, her tawny body twitching in pain. A ragged breath left her mouth and one word fluttered back in response. Hurt.

Every nerve in his body tingled. You’re in the hospital, Evelyn. I’m with you.

Why? Was her only reply.

Nuzzling her neck, he drew his tongue along her flank until he came to blood-matted fur and the claw slashes along her side. Because I need to help you get better.

Evelyn’s body shivered as Pax’s tongue cleaned her wound, his saliva soothing the torn flesh, its healing properties sinking into the deepest slashes.

Why me? Evelyn’s voice was weak.

Pax bumped his nose against hers, not sure if she meant why she was attacked or why he was so compelled to help her. Truth was, he didn’t know himself.

She whined again, but much of the tension eased from her body and the cat dragged in a steadying breath. Need to phase. Her flickering words were a statement not a question.

Pax maneuvered around her still form. Are you strong enough to try?

The cat’s green eyes glowed in the refracted moonlight and with a soft snarl, she struggled to all fours. A loud cat scream, like a cougar attack, ripped from her throat as her body shook with transformation. Bones snapped and muscles tore and reshaped as legs and arms straightened from fore and hind legs. Tawny fur receded to creamy skin, and her soft rounded haunches reformed to gorgeous curves.

She panted on all fours, her long dark hair hanging in her face. The slash marks across her back were red and raw, but at least the skin had knitted to five parallel gash marks.

Paxton raised his snout to the moon and shifted as well. He moved toward her slowly, acutely aware they were both naked.

Reaching up, he traced the contours of her shoulder with the tips of his fingers, moving her hair away from her face. “Are you okay?” he asked, keeping his voice soft.

“I think so. I don’t hurt as much.” She looked at him across her shoulder. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

Stunned, he shook his head. “I didn’t do this to you, Evelyn.”

“I know.” She gave him a small smile. “I meant it was you who saved me.”

He didn’t know how to respond. “It was a combined effort.”

“There’s more here, Pax. Help me,” she replied.

More what? Injury? Poison? Paxton blinked at the cryptic nature of her words. Then again, the laws of logic didn’t apply in dreams.

Evelyn sat back on her heels and her hair draped in waves over her bare breasts. She reached for the curve of his jaw, running her fingers over his cheekbones and the feel of his lips under her fingers. “Do you know why we’re here?”

The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile beneath her fingertips. “Nope. Do you?”

“I am here because you want me.”

He watched her eyes ring with yellow before letting his gaze drop to the full swell of her breasts. Arousal. Pure and definite. Her scent was as clear as the way her hair framed the slope of her waist, highlighting the path to the gorgeous mound between her thighs. His cock thickened and when she licked her lips, he groaned.

New low, huh, Noble? Having sex dreams about a patient.

Breathing in her scent, he squashed all questions and let his senses take over. This was a dream, so why not indulge in a little fantasy sex with the girl who’d been haunting his thoughts for days?

Trailing his hands over her arm, he moved closer and dragged her against his chest. She straddled his thighs, pressing her moist slit to the tip of his erect cock. Locking her arms around his neck, she leaned forward and twined her fingers in his hair. He crushed his mouth to hers. No rules.

His mouth demanded everything of hers, and he sucked her tongue deep. He kissed her long and hard, until she ripped her mouth from his, breathless. Gripping her hips, he rolled with her onto the grass beside the water’s edge, his body humming with need.

“I was right, huh?” she asked with a soft giggle as his hands traveled the full length of her body, his face between her breasts. Fisting her hands in his hair, she pulled his head from her nipples.

“You wanted me the moment you saw me in the Starbucks. In fact, your dick was so hard, you would have fucked me in the bathroom right then and there if I’d let you.”

Pax’s cock jerked. He slid his hands down to hers, guiding their twined fingers toward his corded flesh. Whether it was the chilled air or the feel of her naked body beneath him, or the raw way she spoke, it didn’t matter. He wanted her pussy dripping and clenching for him and he wanted it now.

“I don’t do stall sex, but yeah, I wanted you.”

She grinned against his mouth. “Vous avez toujours.”

He pulled back and looked at her. He didn’t remember much from high school French, but he swore she said, “You always have—“

“Even with your blind sight,” she added, running her tongue along the bottom seam of his lip.

He growled at the taste and feel. “I’m not blind, baby. I can see what I want.” His hand brushed the soft fuzz of her mound, his fingers slipping between the soft, moist folds. “And don’t kid yourself, love. You’re so fucking wet, you want my cock as much as I want to bury myself balls deep in your pussy. In fact, I can feel your juice running the length of my palm.”

Curling his hand into her slit, she gasped, and he dipped his head to her breasts, He sucked the stiffening peaks, nipples hardening against his tongue and he teased the tender flesh.

Pax worked his way back to her mouth, teasing her, grazing her bottom lip with his teeth. With a quick rasp of his tongue, she opened for him—both her mouth and her legs, and he spread her knees and climbed between her thighs.

With his swollen head pressed against her pussy, she clasped her legs around his back and let her head fall between her shoulder blades. He teased her, grinding his cock closer, tempting her until—

“Dr. Noble?”

Pax groaned and rolled over.

“Dr. Noble!”

Cracking one eye open, he realized Carol stood with her hands on her hips while he still had his hand around his member beneath the sheets.

“Holy fuck, Carol!” He scrambled to contain himself. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

She raised an eyebrow and let her eyes flick to the obvious tent he made beneath the covers. “Holy fuck, indeed, doctor.”

“Okay…okay. I’m up,” he grumbled.

With a snort, her eyes lingered for a moment. “Clearly.”

“Carol, please.”

“Don’t get at me, Paxton Noble. You asked me to let you know immediately if there was any change in your patient’s condition.” She smirked, gesturing toward the slightly sagging sheets. “Speaking of conditions, I think your pole has shriveled enough for you to safely leave the tent.”

He cringed. “Ugh, never use the word shriveled when talking about my man parts. In fact, never talk about my man parts again, okay?”

She chuckled. “Whatever you say, campfire kid, but in case the blood flow hasn’t quite returned to your brain from your, uhm—tent—Dr. Adams from pathology wants you to call him, STAT.” She turned for the door again. “Oh, and he said don’t forget you owe him breakfast.”