sight. No one had ever accepted him in his fighting form before. No one except his family had ever seen him eat. Yet Samantha had done both and with an easy grace that made it seem as if what she had done was nothing at all. Yet it was everything.
He didn’t know if she was blind or just crazy. What else could account for her holding him, nestling against him when he was so hideous?
His chest ached now and his throat felt raw, as if he had swallowed something scalding. Could she really not see him for what he was, or could she overlook it for the protection he provided?
“I may not have the gifts of a wolf,” she said, casually, as if speaking to her bearskin, “but I can smell well enough to know when I’m being spied on.”
She threw her bearskin cape over her shoulders, covering her form from shoulder to knee. The wind whipped her loose wet hair, lifting it in ropes.
He thought to change into his more human form, but seeing her nude had stirred the wanting again. The prospect of holding her in his arms scalded his skin and burned deep into his lungs and viscera.
He wanted to take her in every way a man takes a mate. But if he came to her naked and wanting, she might reject him. Rejection from Samantha was one defeat he could not bear. He knew it was impossible between them. But still he moved toward her.
He told himself that he needed her rejection. It was her only chance to escape him.
So he stepped out from cover still in his fighting form, walked to the water and waded in, quickly washing the blood from his body. Samantha slipped out of the water as he splashed in, but she did not go far enough. How could she sense his presence and not what he wanted from her?
“That was an excellent meal.” Her smile was generous and bright. “Thank you.”
She smoothed her cloak of glossy fur. There was a flash as if from a camera as her dark brown fur cape turned to a blur of pale purple.
She stood before him now, in a pretty lavender sundress that revealed her slim, muscular arms and hugged her lovely round breasts before cutting away to dance in the wind in waves of fabric about her cinnamon-brown legs. She was bare from midthigh to the straps of her wafer-thin sandals that crisscrossed her trim ankles. She had chosen this lovely vision for him. He felt a gratitude that struck bone deep.
I don’t want this. Not with him.
Her words bounced up in his mind, smashing against the enticement she now presented. What was she doing?
Her smile was welcoming. “I have something to ask you. A request, really.”
Her words confirmed his suspicion. This was why she offered herself in such a garment, to better her odds at getting what she wanted. He gave her another long look. Well, it was working.
She cocked her head. “Do you like it?”
“Very much.”
Her smile radiated pleasure. He tucked the sight of her away in his memory, to be drawn on later when she was gone. She swished her skirts and pivoted from side to side, giving him an ever-changing view.
His lips tugged upward into a smile that he knew must be hideous. The blood pulsed to his sex. He lowered his chin, fighting the urge to capture her. Would it be better to remain in his fighting form or change into his third form to stand before her naked and fully aroused?
She took a step in his direction, the pretty smile still on her raspberry-colored lips. “Your parents told me that you lead them, all the others.”
He nodded, apprehensive as to where this conversation was heading.
“And you told me that the Skinwalkers were no match for Nagi’s army.”
“Well?”
“We could be. If you all joined the alliance, we could win. And you’d be protecting the Balance and Mankind.” She held her smile, but it seemed forced. She waited for his response.
His eyes narrowed upon her as she confirmed his suspicions. This was why she sought him out. Not to hunt with him or share a meal or sleep at his side. It was to make this proposal. He shifted, resting his weight on his knuckles, resisting the urge to growl. Had he actually let himself believe she sought his company? That she longed for him as much as he did her? The shame crept through him like crystals of ice.
He