Swann Wilde Wolven of The Armak Jumping The Moon

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Can a Wolven shapeshifter love a human without
ripping him apart, or are the soul mates destined
to lose each other again?


As a Wolven of the Armak, Karter is forbidden to
love a human. So what happens when he meets
his soul mate, and they are ripped apart because
they are so different? Karter tries to forget Mark,
but his relationship with the evil Bane nearly
destroys him, and when he and Mark meet up
again, things don’t exactly go according to plan.
Will Karter ever become Mark’s lover in every
way, or are they destined to lose each other again?

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infringement, including infringement without
monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is
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fine of $250,000.


Please purchase only authorized electronic editions,
and do not participate in or encourage the electronic
piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the
author’s rights is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, and incidents either are products of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events or locales or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Jumping The Moon

Copyright © 2013 Swann Wilde

ISBN: 978-1-77111-741-8

Cover art by Latrisha Waters

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the
reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in
part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other
means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden
without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by eXtasy Books

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Jumping The Moon

Wolven of the Armak 1


By


Swann Wilde

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To Jo for making me dream of wolves.

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1


Chapter One


n a scale of one to ten, having a needle thrust
through his nose was probably an eight on the

pain ladder. Karter fingered the new ring and
winced. The things he would do to gain the
attention of his future lover, who adored
piercings, said they turned him on, but strangely
didn’t have any himself.

There was always a group of Others hanging

around the mysterious Wolven, making him
laugh, stroking his ego, and playing the role of
faithful servants. But Karter was sure Bane was
just waiting for the right guy to come into his life,
and he wanted desperately for it to be him.

It wasn’t that Karter lacked confidence. He was

popular and sociable in his Set, often seen as its
leader. But Bane had become his ultimate goal
ever since he first saw him strip down to his white
designer body-hip briefs that day at the pool.

Karter had come down for his early morning

swim, a ritual he had begun as a teenager to rid
himself of the odors of a night running with his
Set. As younglings, they would get together after

O

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2

school, most nights, to run and hunt. It was a way
of bonding with the Set and gave the young
Wolven a chance to let off steam and get used to
their transformed bodies.

Wolfshifters in the Armak didn’t turn until they

reached puberty. It was then, by a lot of trial and
error, they learned how to shift smoothly back and
forth from human to their Wolven shape and how
to control their animal bodies and appetites.
Parents could only do so much. Shifting had to be
experienced, not told.

Karter remembered his first night on the run,

howling at the full moon that had helped him
make his first change. The alien feel of the damp
leaves underfoot and the tangled mass of scents on
the wind intoxicated him. It took practice to
separate the enticing strands of aromas, pick one,
and chase it to its source.

His first kill had been savage and frightened

him with its ferocity. It was at that moment he first
feared being trapped forever in his Wolven pelt,
never again to enjoy human pleasures and
pleasuring. It became a recurring nightmare. But,
of course, as soon as his blood hunger had been
sated and he allowed his breath to slow, Karter
focused on his human form and became himself
again—strong, well-muscled, and gorgeous. Not
that he would have described himself that way.
He was just Karter, a young man with an eye for

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Jumping the Moon

3

fashion and a flair for undergarment design.

It was his passion for great underwear that had

first drawn his gaze to Bane at the pool, as well as
something half-remembered. Bane looked a lot
like someone Karter had spent his early adulthood
trying to forget.


It was his first run. He was both excited and

frightened at the same time. He’d been warned about

what to expect, but was still shocked when the change
came suddenly and painfully as soon as the full moon

rose in the sky.

“Remember, Karter,” his father had warned.

“Remember yourself. Don’t let being Wolven consume
you, or you will lose your ability to shift back to human

form. You don’t want to be trapped in the half-life of a
wolf. Remember who you are.” The message had been
reinforced many times when he was a youngling. He

held on to those thoughts of himself as he changed. He’d
never felt anything like it. His limbs twisted and his

body shortened. He even fancied he could feel his pelt
grow. And then there were his teeth. He wished he

could lift up a hand to feel them, but his fingers had
morphed into paws. His sense of smell, always keen,

was now a hundredfold to what it was before, and he
could focus on the tiniest trace of the many aromas
around him.

The first snapping pain was soon over, and he was

ready to run. The night was exhilarating. When he

finally loped back to the old oak near his home,

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4

exhausted and spent, it was dawn, and the setting of

the moon helped him change back. As he stood up,
naked and a little sore, Karter was startled to see a dark-

haired teenager, much his own age, staring at him with
wide-open blue eyes.

The stranger had looked shocked and stood still as a

statue at first. Karter saw him watching warily as he
dressed. Karter looked up as he finished lacing his

leather pants, locked into the human teen’s eyes, and
felt a tingle of connection.

“Oh!” The boy had said. “You’re a werewolf! Will

you hurt me?”

Karter reassured his unexpected visitor he wasn’t a

werewolf in the technical sense, but a Wolven. By the
time the explanations were over, a tentative bond of

friendship was forged. There was something about
Mark that made Karter’s heart beat faster.

The two young men found they shared a birthday

and would both reach adulthood on June 21, the day of

the summer solstice. Other similarities helped build an
unlikely friendship. They’d been friends for almost three

years, meeting in secret whenever Mark’s father,
Kanan, made his six monthly trading trips through the
Armak ranges to the Wolven community.


Karter had known from the start that what

drew him to Bane was his memory of Mark. The
human teenager—now all grown up he
supposed— and his first love.

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“I love you, Karter.” Mark’s gaze held his. Karter

shivered and let the delicious sensation ripple down his
body. They were standing close, but not touching. The

heat of their bodies reached outwards, met, and blended
until the space between them pulsed with desire. They
were lost in each other’s eyes. Mark tilted his head

forward and his breath stroked Karter’s neck. Karter
shuddered and lifted his lips to meet Mark’s. Mouths

slightly open in anticipation, no other parts of their
bodies touching, they exchanged breath, becoming one.

Standing, toe-to-toe, breathing gently, still not
touching flesh-to-flesh, the tension between them

became unbearable. When their lips finally met, tongue
tips began a gentle dance, and they almost swooned.
When Mark reached out a tentative hand to caress

Karter’s face, the Wolven shuddered. He felt the hand
slide down past his jaw and onto his neck, resting there

a moment. Karter mirrored the touch, and it became a
ballet of slow and sensual movement.

Mark took the lead and where he touched, Karter

followed. It was an exquisite journey of exploration as

their mouths gently continued to discover each other.
Slowly they helped each other undress, neither of them
in a hurry, mouths still softly locked. The striptease

went unwatched, as they stared only into each other’s
eyes.

Finally naked, the two young men at the brink of

adulthood explored each other with care and curiosity.

Karter knew Mark had never before held another man
as he was holding Karter now. It was a new and

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6

delicious experience for Karter, too.

Karter felt Mark move his right leg between Karter’s

and pushed against him. Karter’s penis had been

aroused since they first stood toe-to-toe. The pressure of
Mark’s thigh set all his nerve endings tingling.

They had lain down on the grass, and their bodies

fitted together perfectly. Karter knew he could never
truly love Mark in the way of men. His penis would rip

him apart when at full arousal. It was taking all his
self-control not to ravish Mark. He knew it would kill

him.

“What’s wrong?” Mark whispered. “Don’t you love

me, too?”

The words wrenched at Karter’s heart, and he

explained why he was holding back.

“Then change me. Change me into a Wolven, too.

Then we can make love properly,” Mark whispered into

Karter’s neck.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” Karter rolled

away from him in frustration, breaking the mood. “It
doesn’t work like that. We are Wolven. If I bite you, and

only if the timing is right, and only if I can control the
blood lust enough to stop at one bite, then you will be
turned into a wolf, not a Wolven. You won’t ever be

able to turn back. You will keep your memories, but you
will lose your humanity.”

They had argued that day.

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Jumping the Moon

7


Chapter Two


lthough the briefs looked great on the
mysterious new man in town, fitting snugly

around his sculpted buttocks and what, in Karter’s
view, was an enormous package of goodies tucked
in the front, Karter thought he could do better.
He’d make a design that would enhance the dark-
haired god’s best features.

Karter watched the newcomer flex his delicious

muscles and dive into the pool, cutting through
the still surface like a sword through a tomato,
making barely a ripple. Before the swimmer was
halfway up the pool, Karter had dropped his
towel and silently entered the water. He waited
until the gorgeous body touched the far side and
admired the rolling turn before launching into an
easy crawl, timing his strokes so he accidentally
brushed against the oncoming swimmer.

“I’m so sorry.” Karter trod water and got a

closer look at the only other person in the pool.
His senses on full alert, he picked up the woody

A

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8

tang of another Wolfshifter, which made him sigh
inwardly with pleasure. He’d forced himself to
develop an aversion to interspecies liaisons
bordering on hatred.

Caught in his own brief fantasy, Karter could

not find anything else to say when the man-wolf
just nodded and kept on swimming as if nothing
had happened, apparently unwilling to engage in
conversation.

Feeling rebuffed, Karter consoled himself with

the thought that he had managed to make enough
of a connection to give him an opening next time
they met.

Karter’s skin tingled from the brief eye contact.

He was determined to find out as much as he
could and work out a plan to get into the
newcomer’s heart and, of course, his bed.

Refreshed from his exercise and certain the

chlorine in the pool had taken away the last of his
hunting stench, even though he’d had a deep
shower before leaving home, Karter vaulted out of
the water in time to see his pool companion leave
the complex.

While watching the retreating figure, Karter let

his mind drift back to his teens and to the boy he
had met after his first run.

On the eve of their eighteenth birthdays, they were

under the canopy of a huge oak, their usual meeting

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9

place. The tree had a special meaning for them because

it was where they had first met. Mark had brought a
bottle of fierce red wine that burned and choked them as

they swallowed unrestrained gulps from the bottle.
Karter leaned forward to wipe a smear of red from
Mark’s lips, and his fingers lingered, brushing gently,

exploring tentatively. When Karter’s index finger
pressed against Mark’s teeth, he opened his mouth, took

Karter’s finger in, and sucked.

It was the first time they had touched each other

since their argument, and the air between them was
electric.

Karter’s prick had risen up immediately, pushing

against the fabric of his pants as if it had a life of its
own. He looked down and saw Mark was as aroused as

he was. Karter’s spare hand slid across to Mark’s lap
and felt the hard bulge of straining flesh under the

cotton covering. He slowly unzipped Mark’s jeans,
marveling at the engineering and wishing he had a

quicker way to get his own outer garments off. As he
freed Mark’s penis, Karter looked at it in wonder. He’d

never really taken any notice of how other men looked
until he’d met Mark. He was, of course, familiar with
his own anatomy, but this was so different. He ran an

exploratory finger down the silky shaft, then up again,
and heard Mark groan softly. Grasping Mark’s balls, he

massaged them gently, and his eyes widened at the
reaction his touch created. He lowered his head and

opened his mouth to receive this new bounty and licked
and sucked, until Mark was crying out in pleasure and

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shock.

“Oh my God! Don’t, don’t don’t…don’t stop, don’t

stop.” And Karter did as he was told.

Once they got their breath back, Mark flipped Karter

onto his back to slowly unlace his shirt and pants. He
ran his hands over Karter’s chest, outlining the muscles

and twirling his fingers around the erect, dark nipples.
Mark blew on the nipples, then sucked and kissed them

until Karter strained with longing. Karter didn’t want
to break the spell by speaking, but willed Mark to bring

his mouth and hands lower.

Eventually, after what felt like hours of pleasurable

torture, Mark took Karter’s engorged prick into his
mouth and loved him.

Both sated, they held each other, hands on skin, body

to body, reveling in their loving and filled with
amazement and joy.

“I had no idea this could be so wonderful,” Karter

had whispered.

“Me neither,” Mark replied.
“What a fabulous birthday present,” they said in

unison, and laughed.


Karter’s father had been black with rage when he’d

found them, tangled in an embrace, so absorbed in each
other they hadn’t heard the tread of Kanan’s heavy

boots.

“How dare you, boy,” he’d shouted at Karter. The

guilty pair rolled away from each other in shock. “What
are you thinking?”

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Kanan towered above them. The two young men

cringed, pulled on their clothes to cover themselves, and
quivering in fear. The imposing force of one of the

Wolven leaders, who also happened to be Karter’s
father, was scary enough when he was benign, but in a
rage he was terrifying.

Kanan bellowed at them, raising his voice in a

torrent of anger, which was reflected in his rapidly

shifting face, turning from human to wolf and back
again, eyes blazing and flashing.

Mark eventually gathered enough of his wits to

scramble away. Karter had never seen him again.

His father’s wrath was overwhelming, reminding

Karter angrily of his obligations as a Wolven.

“You know of our pact, Karter,” Kanan had fumed.

“We never have human mates,” he’d shouted. “Our
very nature prevents us from interacting with their

kind. Our passion and strength overcomes us at
mating—we can tear a human apart, or worse, lose

control and change them into beasts.”

“But, I’d never hurt Mark that way,” Karter had

argued, still fearful his father would punish him. “I
know the rules. I wouldn’t have taken it further. I love
him too much. I’d never hurt him or change him.”

Kanan sneered. “What do you know about love?” he

roared. He clipped Karter round the ear with a hand

he’d transformed into an enormous paw. Nails raked
along Karter’s cheek, and he drew away in horror. His

father had never hit him before. He must be really
furious, and it scared him.

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12

As soon as he could, Karter went in search of Mark,

but he’d gone. The tinkers’ van had left the Armak, and
although it returned on a regular basis with trading

goods, he never saw Mark again. Over time, he pushed
the memory to the back of his mind, especially after
Kanan was killed in a freak accident a few weeks later.

Karter hadn’t forgiven his father, and they hadn’t
spoken since the incident with Mark. Kanan died

without their issues being resolved. Karter had spent
the years afterwards blaming himself for what had

happened. If Kanan hadn’t been so distracted with
anger from finding them together, Karter was sure he

would have sensed the rock fall that claimed his life.


“So, who’s the new guy,” Karter asked the duty

manager, his tone casual and unconcerned.

“That’s Bane Were. Haven’t you seen him

before?” Karter shook his head. “He turned up
with a bunch of Others last week. Apparently he’s
taking over the Wild Boar.”

Karter knew the manager would be happy to

gossip, because new people in town were a rarity
and always a source for speculation. Karter took a
lot of the information he gleaned with a pinch of
Wolfsbane. He never believed half of what he
heard and liked to find out for himself. Besides,
some of the things he was told sounded too
farfetched to be true.

Being a Wolven was difficult enough without

sharing their town with humans, so Karter was

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13

happy to find out Bane was of shifter stock. From
his scent, Karter could tell Bane came from a very
different place and wondered where he’d been
bred and what brought him to the Armak, other
than an obvious desire to run a hotel.

The Wild Boar had been empty for a while now,

ever since the owner died and the community
boarded the place up out of respect. The drinkers
in the town drifted away to the only other
alehouse, the Brown Pig, where they whined
about the beer being watered down, but there
wasn’t much they could do. There were no other
drinking hole options within running distance.

Having the Boar open again, providing the beer

was good, would be a clever business move,
Karter thought. An added bonus would be seeing
his new acquaintance behind the bar, or in front of
it, and he’d be able to get to know him better.

The vague rumor he’d heard at the pool about

Bane coming to the Armak because he’d been run
out of his own community for some dark and
dreadful deeds didn’t worry Karter at all. Wolven
thrived on gossip, whether there was any truth in
it or not.

Over the next week, Karter did as much

investigation as he dared into Bane without
arousing suspicions. He would be embarrassed to
be caught showing so much interest in the
newcomer, especially as a mate had already been

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14

chosen for him from his own Set. He liked Kina
well enough, but it was the tight butts and six
packs of his male friends that always sent him
tingling with sex hormones. He’d touched a she-
Wolven once and found her much too soft for his
liking. For Karter, it was hard all the way.

His subtle enquiries paid off, and he found

Bane didn’t have a partner. His group of Others
was only around to run his errands, but none of
them shared his bed. He overheard a conversation
in which Bane remarked how piercings were a real
turn on, which was why Karter decided on the
nose ring. He got it just in time for the reopening
of the Boar.

Despite the sharp and very brief pain the

piercing caused, he liked the rakish look of the
ring and thought it made him look tough and
sexy. He had his sable hair cut in the ragged style
he preferred, where it just brushed his collar. He
thought his grey Wolven eyes were more unusual
than others of his Pack, with their flecks of gold.
Maybe they’d be a conversation starter with Bane.

Since setting his sights on Bane, Karter never

left home without making sure he was dressed at
his best. He’d always been a clothes horse, with a
great body for the newest fashions and a sense of
what looked fabulous on both men and women.
His main focus, though, had always been
underwear.

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15

Disinterested in women’s garments, he had

studied the lines and cut of men’s intimate apparel
and had won a number of followers for his
designs and clever use of fabrics and shapes.
Karter didn’t just design boxers and briefs, but
tees, torso-enhancing tank tops, and more—all of
it sexy. His dream was to one day have his own
boutique men’s underwear store and indulge in
his passion—well, one of his passions—but he
knew that for this to happen he would have to
leave the Armak and live in the land of humans,
and that would never come to pass.

Apart from his views on piercings, and that he

was a free agent, Karter didn’t discover much
more about the enigmatic Bane. He’d just have to
wait until the Boar reopened to find out more. The
wait was delicious and simply enhanced Karter’s
desire to get to know the tall, dark man of his
dreams.

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16


Chapter Three


he grand reopening of the Wild Boar was a
community event. No one had been left off the

invitation list, and the place was already packed
when Karter walked up the street. The splendid,
old hotel was an example of magnificent Wolven
architecture, dressed up with towers and
verandahs. Karter had always loved the upstairs
balconies that overlooked the town’s main street.
He’d been up there a couple of times when he was
younger, and knew you could see the hills of the
nearby Armak ranges in all their beauty.

The previous owner hadn’t changed a thing

inside the Boar since before Karter was born, so he
was curious about the improvements. Bunting was
looped around the posts of the shady old porch,
which had received a new splash of green paint,
and the big blackboard hanging by the front bar
door had Welcome to the Boar chalked on it in large
neat script.

It was a small town, and Karter knew everyone

T

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17

in it, apart from the Others who always hung
around Bane. They all looked the same to him, and
there was a bad smell about them that he couldn’t
pinpoint.

The verandah of the pub was packed with

jovial drinkers, all with beers or wine glasses in
their hands. Karter pushed his way in through the
crowd to the bar, trying to catch a glimpse of Bane.
His progress was hampered by having to speak to
everyone he knew—which was the whole town.
Karter was disappointed not to see Bane serving
drinks, but supposed the owner would have staff
to do that menial work for him.

There were so many people crammed inside the

front bar, Karter could barely see if anything new
had been done to the inside of the pub at all. He
pushed his way into the crowd, hearing snatches
of conversation, “Looks good,” “Would never
have though it could come up so well,” “Love the
chandelier,” “Great design,” and so on, until he
was almost beside himself with annoyance. All
these wonderful new features, but he couldn’t see
any of them clearly, apart from the chandelier. The
old light fittings had been removed and replaced
with an enormous art piece made of interlinking
deer antlers that formed the framework to hold
dozens of short, fat candles. The lights managed to
brighten the entire room, not leaving any corner in
gloom.

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18

Karter was impressed by the size of it and

thought that if that one piece of new furniture was
anything to go by, then the rest of the hotel, once
the crowd had thinned, would look stunning.

When he reached the bar, Karter was surprised

to scent two humans serving behind the counter.
They both looked petrified. He could smell their
fear over the yeasty odour of fresh beer and the
sawdust scattered liberally around both sides of
the bar to catch any spills.

Karter was shocked—the humans shouldn’t be

here, particularly with a pub full of Wolven
consuming alcohol. There was a full moon tonight,
too, a time when Sets hunted together, and the
desire for fresh kill was particularly strong. As the
young man and woman moved to serve drinks,
Karter noticed they had iron manacles around
their ankles, allowing them to shuffle slowly and
clumsily along the narrow space behind the
counter. Surely this couldn’t be Bane’s doing? It must

be the Others who had forced this couple into danger.

As Karter wondered what he should do, he was

distracted by a booming voice coming from
furthest end of the vast barroom. He didn’t catch
the first few words, but recognized the largest of
Bane’s Others asking people to be quiet for the
official proceedings. Although already taller than
anyone in the room, Bane stepped up onto a small
stage and loomed over the gathering. He projected

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19

his voice and welcomed the town to the reopening
of the new Wild Boar, describing the special new
features patrons could now enjoy. There was a
new eight-ball table, the toilets had been
refurbished, and the dining room had not only
been redecorated, but there was also a new chef
who had been brought in especially from the
Otherlands.

Bane waved his arms extravagantly towards the

new buck antler chandelier in the bar. There were
other virtues of the new Boar, which Karter
ignored as he gazed in lust at Bane, willing him to
look across the room and give a sign of
recognition. It didn’t come. Karter tried to move
forward through the tightly packed drinkers to get
closer to the stage, but by the time he pushed his
way through, Bane had gone. Karter caught
glimpses of his target all afternoon, but never got
close enough to touch or speak to him.


The opening had begun well before lunch, and

it was now almost dusk. Most of the crowd had
dispersed, but not all. It was nearly moonrise, and
Bane had slipped away. Karter knew the younger
Wolven had no control of their change on the first
night of the full moon. Older Set members had
more power over their urges and could hold back,
but he was worried about the teens and the safety
of the humans behind the bar.

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20

He hadn’t been able to get near Bane all day, so

he might as well take some personal initiative and
keep the two humans safe. The bar had been
constantly busy and the pair were run—shuffled,
Karter thought wryly—off their feet, but now it was
finally empty. Karter took the opportunity to
approach them without anyone else overhearing.
He was sure what he was about to do wouldn’t
win him friends with the Others.

“Are you two okay? Where are you from?”

Karter tried to talk in a soothing tone, but his grey
eyes, normally an attractive feature he thought,
must have scared them with their intense gaze.
The young man stammered something Karter
couldn’t catch, and then turned his back,
continuing to wipe glasses that he picked out of
the sink, his back rigid with fear.

“Wait!” Karter put his hand out and touched

the woman’s fingers. She drew them away as if
he’d scalded her with boiling water.

“Don’t touch me!” she hissed.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m worried about

you. I can see you’re here against your will.”
Karter nodded at the ankle bracelets. “I don’t want
to see you hurt. We have a pact with the humans
on the other side of the range, and if we hurt you
there’ll be hell to pay. It’s important I get you out
of here before the moon rises, and back where you
came from. We’ve only got a short time.”

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Karter’s Wolven talent was with metal, and he

had no difficulty getting the old-fashioned iron of
the shackles to do his bidding.

“Quick, come with me. Don’t be scared. I’m

going to get you out of here.”

Karter sensed the humans were reluctant to go

with him, probably wary of his magick. They
would have been frightened by the Others, who
Karter found out later had captured them several
days earlier as they were hiking the mountain
country.

The Others had deliberately breached the veil

and gone hunting for live prey.

“Why do you want us to go with you? What do

you want? What are you going to do to us?” The
man’s voice shook. His shoulders were hunched in
defiance, and he looked like he wasn’t going to
budge from the bar.

“Oh, come on, Chris. His eyes look kind. Just

do as he says. I’ve got a bad feeling about staying
here.”

Clearly used to being told what to do by the

female, Karter was pleased the man stopped
resisting.

“Just act naturally, and walk in front of me.”

Karter ushered them to the back of the bar, where
a door led to the cellar.

“Pretend you’re getting more beer and I’ll be

helping you,” he whispered. Then, more loudly,

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22

“Let’s get a couple more kegs. Show me where
they’re kept and I’ll help bring ‘em up. We’re all
getting a bit dry here.”

The trio passed through the door tucked next to

the drinks cabinet behind the bar. Karter was
pleased to see it had a sturdy metal locking
mechanism. Once the humans were on their way
down the steps leading to the cellar he passed his
fingers over the lock and heard a satisfying click
as the tongue engaged. Karter felt more secure
now that following them would be difficult. He’d
made the metal swell and jam the lock.

The woman had her arm around the man’s

shoulders, trying to stop him shaking. She made
shushing noises and rocked him gently. Karter left
them to it and went hunting for the secret door he
knew was there, hidden somewhere in the dark.


He’d learned about the tunnel that led from the

cellar to the base of the Armak ranges, about three
kilometers to the north, when he was a boy.

The pub had been boarded up then, and there were

rumors it was haunted, so people stayed away.

Looking for a place to get some time out from his Set

for a while, fed up with their stupid games, Karter had
explored the old building’s grounds and spotted a loose

board on the back wall.

Once inside, he found a wonderland of rooms and

broken furniture, all dusted with cobwebs and mouse

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23

droppings. His explorations led him to the cellar, where

he thanked his excellent night vision. The dozen or so
steps led to a cavernous space, mainly empty, save for a

couple of broken wine barrels, their staves collapsed like
giant toothpicks.

The aroma of old wine and oak still permeated the

air, making him feel slightly drunk. When his head
cleared, Karter checked out his surroundings with more

care than he used upstairs.

There was something about the space that made the

hairs on the back of his neck tingle. He knew it
contained secrets, he could feel it, and he was

determined to strip them bare.

It took him a while, but eventually, after shoving an

old wine rack out of the way, he found it—a sheet of

studded steel in the brickwork, the size of a doorway.
There was no keyhole or handle he could see, but that

was no barrier to Karter and his talent with metal. He
parted the solid material like a curtain and stepped

through. His night vision showed him a roughly hewn
tunnel, just his height.

He moved forward along the snaking path, ducking

his head occasionally to avoid knocking himself out. The
walls were damp, and water dripped and streamed in

tiny rivulets, making the way slippery underfoot in
places. He could smell the lichen and fungi that popped

up in crevices and cracks, and Karter marveled at the
ability of life to take over in the most unlikely places.

He estimated he’d been walking for about an hour

when he saw a sliver of light ahead, and sped up his

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24

pace. At the end of the long tunnel, that had no

offshoots that he could tell, he saw a thicket of green,
spiky gorse. The plant’s yellow flowers looked pretty,

but he knew getting out of the tunnel would give him
some unwanted scratches.

Sitting on a grassy rise just outside the exit, Karter

picked gorse thorns from his skin and thought about
why the tunnel was created and who would have used

it.

He had a vivid imagination, but eventually, after

tossing a range of scenarios around in his mind, Karter
remembered some tales his dad had told the family

many years ago, when Karter was just a pup.

A tunnel, according to his father, had been built

somewhere on the edge of the town and was used to

bring in contraband from the forbidden land on the
other side of the Armak ranges. “Entry to the Armak

lands was through a veil between two worlds, Wolven
and Human,” Kanan had told his son. “The ancient

ways were magickally protected. Occasionally humans
and shifters, with enough desire to breach the curtain,

would pass from one land to the other, but it was
uncommon and discouraged. Once upon a time,
importing items from over the hill was banned by the

Elders who had barred trading with humans.”

Karter knew those restrictions had now been relaxed,

but only to a selected group of traders who had no need
for a secret entry. They’d been given a magickal

talisman to let them through the veil along the trading
route.

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25

Getting out of the Armak was easy enough for

humans if they did breach the magickal barrier, Karter
knew. It was only one way, and nothing stopped them

returning to their own lands if they wished it. This
magick kept the Wolven safe from being hunted to
extinction.

Once, hundreds of years before, Wolven and humans

had lived together in the same villages and towns, but

tales of Werewolves and full moon slaughter had
brought about a parting of the ways for everyone’s

safety.

“Seeing humans in the Armak, other than traders,

isn’t unheard of, Karter,” his father had told him once.
“Occasionally one or two will stumble through the veil.
Sometimes a Wolven may find a human stray and keep

it as a servant, out of sight, but if the Elders find them,
they are sent back where they came from, and the

Wolven who has kept them is punished. It’s far too
dangerous to start any action that would open a door to

war and wholesale slaughter.” Kanan had warned.


Conscious of the ticking clock, Karter hurried

toward the back of the cellar. After a couple of
false starts, he found the right wine rack along a
wall now filled with them, and holding hundreds
of bottles. He pulled it carefully to one side, trying
hard not to dislodge any of its contents.

He sighed with relief. There was the steel door,

just as he remembered. The metal parted, and he
pushed the two startled humans through the

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26

space. He did his best to pull the wine rack back
tidily in place, and then closed the way.

There was a screech from behind him, and he

realized the humans didn’t have the same keen
eyesight as he did. They would be petrified in the
pitch dark now the door was shut.

“It’s okay. Nothing’s going to happen to you,”

he said in as soothing a voice as he could manage.
“We’re going to get out of here, but you’re going
to have to trust me. Just hold on to each other, and
the one in front, grab my belt. Neither of you are
as tall as me, so you won’t have to duck your
heads, but be careful of your footing. It can get
slippery along here.”

It was a long walk and took twice as long as

any previous time Karter had made the trip as a
kid, because he had to keep stopping. The humans
often slipped, and Chris fell onto his knees several
times. He could see light at the end of the tunnel at
last. The full moon was bright and sparkling,
shining its light like a torch beam, which caused a
problem. As soon as Karter stepped into the
moon’s rays, he felt the rush of blood to his limbs,
which was the warning sign of a change. He
stepped back into the shadows.

“As you can see by the moonlight, we’ve come

to the end of the tunnel. It’s too dangerous to walk
out there now. You need to stay in here until
dawn, and then push through this small thicket.

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27

On the other side, just north of where we stand is
a large fissure in the mountain. There is a track
that leads through to the other side and into your
land.”

Karter pushed a weary hand through his hair. It

was hard maintaining his human form, when he
so much wanted to change, and run and hunt.

“You’ll be safe here, the cave entry is guarded

by magick which will make you undetectable, and
so is the path through the Armak Mountains. Your
danger point is running from here to the fissure,
so just be careful when you do.”

“We don’t know what to say.” The woman said,

her breath coming in gulps. “Why are you helping
us?”

“I told you, I don’t want to see the treaty

broken. Now I really need to go. You don’t want
to have me in here when I change.”

“We don’t know what you mean, but it sounds

as if we will be safe with you gone. Thank you for
saving us. If you ever come to Oborn, come and
see us, and maybe one day we can return the
favor.”

Karter smiled briefly, before focusing on his

rebellious shifter body again. “I’ve really got to go.
By the way, I know he’s called Chris,” nodding at
the human male still quivering in his boots.
“What’s your name?”

“Amy.”

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28

“Bye, Amy. Be safe.” Karter left the cave,

pushed past the bottle brush bush that had long
ago replaced the thorns, transformed fluidly into a
large blue-grey wolf and loped away.

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29


Chapter Four


aking late from a night on the run and the
hunt, Karter and the rest of his Set were

glad it was the weekend and they had no chores to
do or jobs to go to. Karter spent the morning
adding to his sketchbook, giving barely a thought
to the two humans, although he did hope they had
managed to do as they were told and were now
safe.

He flicked idly through his book, quickly

entranced by the ideas he had sketched in the past
few weeks since first setting eyes on Bane. Bane
had the ideal model’s body, and the underwear
Karter had drawn would look fabulous on him.
He’d been quite an inspiration.

Thoughts of Bane quickly turned to action.

Karter decided to wander up to the Wild Boar and
see if anyone was about, hoping for a glimpse of
the man who occupied his waking thoughts.

Arriving at the refurbished pub, Karter saw

someone had been busy cleaning up. All the

W

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30

festive streamers and balloons were packed away
and the front verandah looked shiny and clean.
There was a stale beer smell coming through the
doorway, caused by last night’s happy revelers’
many spills.

Not quite opening time, but the doors were ajar,

so he wandered in. As soon as Karter stepped over
the threshold, he heard a muttered argument
coming from one of the back rooms. The voices
were low, but he picked out Bane’s deep tones. It
sounded like he was giving someone a real serve.

Wonder what that’s all about.
Not wanting to get in the way, Karter started to

back out of the door. Before he could exit, one of
Bane’s Others stormed out of the back room and
barged past him, nearly knocking him down.

“Hey, wait a minute!” Karter called after him,

but the Other took no notice and kept walking.

Karter brushed himself down, even though he

hadn’t

fallen

over,

and

self-consciously

straightened his shirt. He looked up and saw
Bane’s gaze on him from across the room.

“Hi! Sorry to barge in. Just thought I’d come

over and thank you for an amazing night. It was
great wasn’t it?” Karter was babbling, but couldn’t
stop. Seeing Bane again made his knees tremble
and his stomach clench.

“Sorry if you overheard that. It wasn’t

anything. Just some lost playthings.” Bane walked

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31

over to the bar and poured himself a whisky.
“Like a drink?”

Would I? Karter accepted with joy. Finally he

had a chance to talk to Bane without interruptions.

Bane handed over the glass without asking

what Karter would like. As he put it down, his
hand lightly brushed Karter’s. The electricity
between them could have started a motor. Karter
almost snatched his arm away in shock, but took a
couple of deep, settling breaths. He was
mesmerized by Bane’s voice and, although he
knew he responded appropriately, he couldn’t
remember a single word afterwards. Somewhere
in their talk they had agreed to meet again that
night, after the pub had shut, for some private
time. Karter couldn’t wait. He couldn’t believe
how lucky he was. It had been almost too easy to
get to know Bane.


Karter spent the afternoon and early evening

getting ready to see Bane again. He bathed and
polished his body, trimmed his hair and groomed
himself until he was, in his estimation, just perfect.
He then had the task of selecting just the right
clothing. Underwear was as important to him as
outerwear, and he chose a pair of hipster briefs of
his own design, with claw marks as part of the
fabric’s pattern. A muscle shirt showed off his best
features. Well, not quite his best. He smirked into

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32

the mirror.

It was just past closing time. As Karter walked

up the street, he could see the lights gradually go
out one by one in the old pub until only one was
left. The porch light had been put out by the time
he walked up the steps, but the bar door was ajar
again and beckoned him inside.

The light was dim, and Karter thanked his

Wolven eyesight when he spotted Bane in a
darkened corner of the room, sitting at a small
table. Bane waved him over and pushed a chair
out with his foot, inviting Karter to sit. The closer
he got to Bane, the more he was drawn in to those
dark eyes. He couldn’t take his own eyes away.
Karter put both hands on the table when he sat
down. Bane covered them with his. The heat from
Bane’s hands on his skin was like a newly kindled
fire. Small tendrils of electricity flickered over his
wrists and along his arms, meeting across his chest
by his heart.

Karter’s breath came in short bursts, until he

was panting. It was more a desire to breathe in
Bane’s aroma of spices and warmth as quickly as
he could than an attempt to catch his breath.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” Bane’s voice was

mesmerizing. Karter was struck dumb. So much
he wanted to say, but was unable to articulate. His
mouth curved in a smile, and he sighed. He felt
enveloped in a warm cloud of love and lust, and

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33

he’d never felt so much under someone’s spell.

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34


Chapter Five


ome on, Karter, it’s been weeks, man. Time
you had a run with the boys.” Willem shook

his friend by the shoulder. “You’ve lost so much
condition I hardly recognize you. Time to get out
in the sunshine and play.”

Karter tried to get up from the couch he’d been

sleeping on, but found it difficult to concentrate on
what Willem was saying.

“’S okay. I’m fine,” he slurred.
“No. You’re anything but fine. Ever since you

started hanging out with that prick Bane and
letting him do god knows what to you, you’ve
been anything but okay. Why do you let him do
what he does? You know the whole town is
sniggering behind your back,” Willem said
angrily. “And don’t start abusing me again. Every
time I bring this up, you go crazy and tell me to
mind my own business. I’ve tried to keep my
mouth shut, but you have to do something. This
can’t go on any more.”

“C

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35

“You’re right. Mind your own business…What

can’t go on?” Karter shook his head as if to loosen
some marbles. “I don’t know what you’re talking
about. Bane and I are in love. There’s nothing
wrong with that. You know most of us are
destined to partner with our own sex. You’re just
jealous!”

“That’s far from the truth, and you know it,”

Willem shouted. “I am not, I repeat, not, jealous of
that cruel shit. He makes my skin crawl. What he’s
been doing to you is unforgivable, and what’s
worse, you’ve been letting him.”

Willem stalked out of their cottage, slamming

the door behind him.

Karter raised himself up on his elbows and

shook his head again. What had Willem meant?
What had Bane been doing to him? He couldn’t
really remember.

It had been four weeks since Bane and Karter

had connected on that evening in the hotel. Karter
couldn’t remember much of what had happened
after that. He knew there had been some loving.
He felt desire every time he thought about Bane,
but the time they spent together was a blur.

Having Willem shout at him like that was a

first—he was normally such a placid Wolven.

Willem was Karter’s best friend and had moved

in with him soon after Kanan was killed. Karter’s
mother had died giving him birth, and he’d only

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36

known males as companions. Willem had made a
good housemate. They’d had lots of fun together
in the past, had shared some hunting experiences,
and normally got on really well. For Willem to
storm about and shout at him was unheard of and
shocked Karter into sitting up.

He shook his head again, and the fog cleared a

little. He stretched and wandered off to the
shower to clean up.

Coming out of the steaming cubicle, Karter

went to the bathroom vanity and wiped a hand
across the condensation on the mirror facing him.
He was surprised at what he saw. His normally
healthy, well-chiselled face was gaunt and grey.
His eyes lacked lustre and stared blankly back at
him.

This couldn’t be right. Last time he’d shaved, he

was sure he’d looked well and healthy. But he
couldn’t remember the last time he had looked in
the mirror. Was it yesterday? Or was it more than
a week ago, or even longer?

Time was a blur to Karter. He couldn’t

remember when he’d gone to work last, or had a
shower or…or well, anything. He must have
showered before today, because his face only held
a day’s worth of stubble. He must have eaten,
because his stomach didn’t rumble for food. But
he couldn’t remember doing any of those
everyday actions. His body felt sore and abused,

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37

and walking was uncomfortable, but he didn’t
know what had caused him to feel this way.

By the time he’d finished drying and was

dressed, Karter’s nose alerted him to the smell of
freshly brewed coffee in the tiny kitchen. Thank
god for Willem’s need for caffeine. He must have
put the coffee on before he left.

Taking a steaming mug of brew outside on the

porch in the sunshine, Karter sat down carefully
on one of the old, creaky wicker chairs and tried to
make sense of what had happened to him. He felt
he was awakening from a lengthy dream, a dream
he couldn’t remember, but knew there were
details just hidden in the back of his mind, if only
he could recall them.

He was trying, frustratingly, to catch a glimpse

of the dream, when he saw his neighbor Dan
wander past.

“Hi, Dan. How’s it going?”
Dan looked up at Karter on the porch and

sniggered. “It’s going fine. You going to put on
another show tonight?”

“What? What show?”
“Yeah, I don’t blame you for trying to forget. I’d

want to forget too. Don’t even know how you can
keep your head up. You’re seriously peculiar. I
wouldn’t want to be you, no matter how much
someone paid me. Too many people laughing at
you now, bro.” Dan shuffled off, still sniggering.

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38

Karter closed his eyes. This was ridiculous.

Something had happened to him that he wasn’t
aware of. Everyone else seemed to know, and by
the sound of things, it couldn’t be good.

He leaned his head back wearily against the

hard cane of the chair’s headrest and closed his
eyes. A few seconds later, he sat up with a start,
his eyes wide open and staring into the empty
street.

He’d remembered.

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39


Chapter Six


ou bastard! How could you… How did
you… You bastard!” Karter stormed through

the door of the Wild Boar and grabbed Bane by
the shirt. He gave him a shake.

“I will never, never forgive you. You’re a shit.”

He dropped the fistful of material and pushed his
hand against Bane’s chest, putting him off balance.

“Now, now, pretty boy. No need to get all

worked up. You’ve been a great cabaret show.
You’ve got quite a following,” the tallest of Bane’s
Others said as he hooked a meaty arm around
Karter’s neck and jerked him backwards.

Bane adjusted his shirt, so its rumpled front sat

smoothly again against his toned body. His smile
was cruel and his face hard. “You stole something
from me, and I’ve just been paying you back,
that’s all. If you don’t like it, then piss off. I’ve had
enough of you anyway. I thought you’d be a good
fuck, but you always squeal like a pig.

“The only good part was every time I took you

“Y

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40

on the balcony, you’d make a great public
spectacle of yourself. Regular as clockwork, every
night at midnight, the whole town got to see you
take it hard from me and heard you scream for
more. Or was it just scream? I can’t recall!” Bane
grinned, showing his canines.

“It was fun—for me—while it lasted. I’ve

taught you a lesson not to take what’s mine. What
did you do with those two vermin, anyway? The
cellar had your scent all over it, but I’ve never
figured out what you did. And funnily enough, no
matter how hard I tried to persuade you, you never
told me.”

“Fuck off, Bane. You’re a monster.” Karter

turned quickly so they couldn’t see the tears
welling in his eyes as he realized the extent of his
humiliation. Even if he hadn’t been a willing
partner, being raped repeatedly in public and not
having the balls to do anything about it—even if
he was under Bane’s spell—was something he
couldn’t live with in this community, now he’d
woken up.

The argument had attracted the attention of a

small crowd of noonday drinkers at the bar. Karter
saw some of them give him pitying looks and his
eyes blurred with tears. He just wanted to get out
of there as fast as he could and hide.


Back at home, Karter paced up and down the

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41

lounge room floor. He was humiliated and
frightened. Bane had had him under his complete
control, and he’d both been unaware and unable
to stop it. It could happen again any time.

What about the community, too? They’d always

respected him as the son of one of the Wolven
elders, but his dad would roll over in his grave if
he could see him now. He’d always been taught
not to give sex away indiscriminately and to treat
others with respect. Karter was disappointed that
no one from the town had intervened in what was
happening and saved him. Even his friend Willem
had known what was going on, but had chosen to
do nothing.

He made a decision. It was pointless staying

here. He would never overcome the stigma
attached to the barbaric acts he’d been forced to
participate in against his will. There was no way
he would be able to explain to anyone that he
hadn’t been in command of his own senses.

He had to leave. Now!
There wasn’t much to pack. Karter shoved his

precious sketchbooks into a backpack and his
clothes into his dad’s old green canvas carryall. He
was usually a careful packer, but time was more
important than neatness. Grabbing his bathroom
stuff, he pushed everything he cared for into the
bags and closed them firmly.

He remembered to leave a brief note for

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42

Willem, giving him all his leftover household
goods to do as he liked with. Then he walked out
of his old life forever.


The day had darkened by the time Karter left

his place. He chose a looped route that took him
away from the town’s main street and its people.
It led him to the familiar end of the tunnel where
he’d left the humans, hoping they’d escape.

Despite the couple being the root cause of his

problems, Karter didn’t blame them. It had been
his decision alone to become their rescuer. He
couldn’t bear cruelty in any form and was glad
he’d helped them get away—gladder than ever
after discovering how evil Bane was.

His night vision came into play again as the sun

set just as he arrived at the fissure between the
Armak Mountains. He knew the path was rocky
and steep in places, but he was surefooted, and his
eyesight was exceptional. He could smell fresh
growth in the air where scores of tiny plants clung
to life along the rocky cliff walls. Hoisting his
backpack on broad shoulders and carrying the
holdall with ease, Karter stepped forward into a
new life.

His desire to leave the Armak was enough to

allow him safe passage through the veil. He hoped
he would one day find another Wolven
community, but doubted he would stay unnoticed

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43

if he looked for one straight away. He was sure the
news of his humiliation would have travelled
everywhere by now. Wolven roamed great
distances and shared news with gossipy
neighboring clans. He hardly thought he would be
immune from that chatter.

There was nothing for it, but to integrate with

the humans and make the best of what was left of
his miserable life. At least amongst the humans, he
wouldn’t be attracted to anyone.

He had his sketchbook and his ability to create

amazing designs, plus his savings in gold that
he’d had the foresight to dig up on his way out of
town. Karter was sure there’d be a market for his
wares and a place he could call home amongst an
alien race. He would just have to keep his Wolven
background a secret and limit his urge to hunt and
run, especially during the full moon. It wouldn’t
do to turn any humans into the despised species of
werewolf. He knew most turned humans never
returned to their human form after the passing of
the full moon, but occasionally, exceptionally
strong males became half man, half wolf, living a
life of uncontrollable change between the two
forms. Yes, he’d better take extra care.

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44


Chapter Seven


arter couldn’t believe it had been six months
since he’d come to Oborn. He’d settled in

remarkably well and even had a few human
acquaintances. The people he met had dispelled
many of the myths he’d grown up with, about
them and their habits. He’d discovered humans
weren’t very different from him after all.

His little shop was everything he hoped it

would be—a sanctuary for him when he felt sad,
and a place of great joy. Pants on Fire! sold an
eclectic but exclusive collection of Karter’s own
designer men’s clothing. Although it specialized in
men’s briefs, boxers, and undershirts, his t-shirt,
jacket and pants ranges were popular, too.

When he’d first arrived in Oborn, Karter had

been at a loss about what to do next. In a town of
ten thousand people, he felt bewildered and lost.
There were only six hundred or so Wolven in his
colony in the Armak, and he knew everyone.
Here, he was a stranger in a much stranger land.

K

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It had taken him two days to travel the chasm

path. He’d been held up by a rock fall and hoped
the humans who had caused all his troubles had
made it through safely. The full moon came, and
although he was now able to control the strong
pull from the sky, he did need to change and hunt,
as he’d travelled without food.

While in his Wolven form, Karter thought

briefly of jumping the moon, a practice steeped in
legend, where if a Wolven went to a high cliff
above a lake and leapt off into the full moon’s
reflection, they would stay in their Wolven shape
forever.

Although it would provide a solution to his

feelings of self-worth and desire to run away and
hide, he knew he couldn’t do it. He was too afraid.
The idea brought back all his childhood
nightmares about shifting into his wolf form and
never being able to return.


Karter had arrived in town just as Oborners

were waking up for the day. The Café de Rail
beckoned with its sign, “Best Coffee in Town—All
Day Big Breakfast!

Over the promised enormous plate of bacon,

egg, sausages and beans, accompanied by two big
slabs of toasted homemade bread dripping with
butter, Karter asked the passing waitress where
the best place to stay would be.

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“Mrs. Baker’s Boarding House should suit

you,” she’d said helpfully, as she poured more
aromatic coffee into his mug. “It’s clean, cheapish,
and in the center of town.”

The waitress seemed curious about him, but

Karter didn’t give her any information about his
reasons for looking for accommodations or how
long he planned to be in town.

True to the waitress’s promise, Mrs. Baker’s

was ideal for him. His landlady minded her own
business and left him alone with his thoughts,
offering a clean communal bathroom and
generous portions at mealtimes, which was the
only time he saw her or the other three boarders.

Oborn was a medium-sized town in one of the

vast continent of Australia’s rural regions. How it
became magickally connected to the Armak had
been lost in time, although Karter’s grandfather
used to tell tales to his grandkids at bedtime, most
of which Karter had now forgotten.

He planned to take his time to explore the town

and decide on his next move, but as soon as he’d
seen the old shoe shop at the end of Oborn’s main
shopping street, he knew immediately it was for
him.

The real estate agent was enthusiastic. The shop

had been closed for a long time, with windows
covered with curling pieces of old, brittle
newspaper, and peeling paint on the sills and

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47

door.

Money had never been a problem for the

Wolven of the Armak. They had always easily
accumulated riches in the form of gold and
precious stones. Karter had taken his share of gold
when he’d left and found he needed only a small
amount to exchange for the thick wads of paper
that were the trading currency in Oborn.

The best thing about the shop, apart from its

location, was that it had its own side entry and an
apartment above, where Karter could live in
peace. It also had a huge backroom for a
workshop where he could cut his materials and
sew his pieces.

Karter was careful not to make any close

friends in the town and kept to himself, mindful of
the ban on interacting with humans instilled into
him all his life. So there was no one he could call
on to help him get the shop ready for business, but
he had the strength and stamina of five human
men, so cleaning up and refurbishing the old shoe
shop was a breeze. He just had to make sure no
one saw him when he worked furiously, at a pace
and with a strength no human would ever match.

Only two weeks after signing the deeds, Pants

on Fire! opened for business. The steady clatter of
the industrial sewing machine kept his mind off
his Set and his isolation. The finished array of
fabulous clothing that filled the store made him

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48

happy.

Karter realized he had a flair for window

dressing too, and it wasn’t long before every man
in Oborn wore at least one of his designs.

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Chapter Eight


ecoming an overnight town celebrity wasn’t
on his to do list, he thought irritably as he

swiped a pile of invitations into his rubbish bin. It
was increasingly more difficult to remain isolated
in the town. Karter was afraid to make friends,
and now, to make things worse, he’d met Amy.
He knew she must have lived here, but had been
too busy to think about what would happen if
they met and she recognized him.

He’d literally bumped in to her in the town’s

main street. He’d been carrying an armful of
shopping, and while Amy was distracted by
something glittering in a shop window, their
bodies collided, and shopping spilt all over the
ground. Amy bent to help pick up the scattered
bags and their contents, effusive with apologies.
She gasped as she recognized Karter.

“You! What are you doing here? And with

shopping!”

Karter quickly explained he’d been looking for

B

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50

a change of scenery after an incident in Armak
and had decided to relocate to Oborn.

“Was that incident anything to do with Chris

and me?”

Karter didn’t answer her and instead, said he

had to go. “But please keep my secret. I want to
blend in here and think I’m doing okay. I won’t be
making trouble, I promise.”

The tidy little shop front had quaint arched

window frames and a bright green door. Karter
looked happily over at it as he crossed the street,
juggling his shopping so he could extract a bunch
of keys from his pocket. He passed the front
entrance, instead going down a small side
alleyway where let himself in through the back
door.

It was only half an hour to opening time. He

was glad the supermarket opened early, or he’d
never get any food shopping done. Kicking the
door shut behind him, he carried his parcels into
the kitchen and efficiently packed everything
away, while thinking about the implications of
meeting Amy again, and whether she could really
keep a secret.


Two days later, as Karter knelt in the window

trying to place his newest items of stock into
position, he saw Amy walking purposefully to his
door. The bell had barely started to jingle before

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51

he pushed himself backwards onto the floor and
stood up, brushed some imaginary fluff off his
elegant frame and said, “Hello Amy.”

He kept his voice neutral as his brain worked

furiously, wondering if she’d shared his identity
as a Wolven with anyone in the town. If she had,
he knew his days were numbered here. He’d be
run out of town or killed if anyone suspected him
of being a dangerous wolf-man.

“Hi, Karter. So you’re the mysterious Karter

Wolf who runs such a successful business in
Oborn. You know, I never knew your name when
you helped Chris and me. And I don’t think we
ever thanked you properly.” She took a step
towards him.

“Look.” Karter moved back and held out his

hands in a warding gesture, palms facing
outwards. “I really don’t want any trouble. I’m
living a peaceful life, keeping my head down.”

Amy looked shocked. “I’m not here to make

things bad for you. I just wanted say hello and
thanks. It doesn’t even seem enough for the risk
you took. Just the fact that you’re living here, and
look like you’re intending to stay, means
something happened to send you away from your
friends and family. I think that something was
because you helped us that day.” Amy was
babbling. Karter sensed her abrupt change of
mood and understood she was frightened, and

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probably suddenly aware the man in front of her
wasn’t really a man at all. She would have seen
him change into a wolf, and it must have been
very scary indeed for an unsuspecting human.

“We never told anyone what happened that

day.”

Karter hadn’t realized he’d been holding his

breath. He let out a slow sigh.

“Why?” He was curious now.
“Well, mainly because no one would have

believed us. We’d just gone for a hike and then,
poof, we were grabbed by these ugly men and
dragged off to a very strange place.” Amy brushed
some strands of hair from her cheek. “Then, of
course, there was you and that stuff you did. I
swear you changed into a wolf after you left us. I
still don’t really believe what happened. It seems
more like a nightmare we woke up from, not
something we actually experienced. Chris and I
have never talked about it, not even to each
other.”

Karter composed himself enough to offer Amy

a cup of coffee from his small coffee maker at the
back of the shop. As he loaded the pods into the
machine and pressed the button, he turned back to
her and asked, “So, you obviously got back okay.
How’s your mate, er, friend, Chris?”

“Oh, we’re fine. I know he was really wimpy

when we were escaping with you, but he was so

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scared his brain just couldn’t make sense of what
was happening.” She held out her hand for the
cup filled with steaming aromatic brew.

“But you were okay, I remember,” Karter said

as he sipped from his own cup.

“My dad’s one of the traders,” Amy said. “He

used to take goods over the mountains to the
Armak. He’s retired now, but he used to tell us
lots of stories. We always kept his tales in the
family. They weren’t something you’d want to
share with the neighbors if you wanted them to
think you were sane!”

“So what do the townsfolk think is over the

ranges? What reason are they given for not going
there?” Karter said with curiosity in his voice.

“It’s really weird. Most of the people here don’t

seem to notice the Armak Mountains are even
there. They travel to the other compass directions
all the time, though.”

Feeling more comfortable in each other’s

company, they chatted companionably for a while,
before a customer came in and Amy left, saying
she’d pop back again.

After a couple more visits to the shop, Amy

seemed happy enough to ask Karter if he’d like to
come over for a meal the next Friday night.

“We have two really good friends I’d love you

to meet, and my brother’ll be back too. I think
you’ll like him.”

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Karter had a great week at the store with

several new customers falling in love with his
designs and buying up big. He was in a good
mood when he called into the local wine bar to
pick up a couple of bottles of Clare Valley
Riesling. He thought Amy would appreciate the
wine from what he considered to be one of the
world’s finest wine regions.

Karter had become interested in the fruit of the

vine soon after arriving in Oborn. Karter had gone
to the Grape and Hen for a meal, where the
waitress had offered him the wine list and made
some clever suggestions. He’d sworn off beer – it
reminded him too much of Bane. He’d picked an
Australian wine because it made him smile. He
could just visualize kangaroos hopping about in
the vineyards—and of course, Oborn was in
Australia, something he hadn’t realized when he
lived in the Armak.

The directions to Chris and Amy’s house were

easy to follow, and he was soon standing in front
of their modern glass door with the brass knocker
in his fist. When Amy came to the door, he
produced the two bottles of wine with a flourish
from behind his back, like a magician pulling a
rabbit out of a hat and with as much pleasure.

It felt good to see her again, and he was looking

forward to seeing Chris, too. He just hoped the

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55

young man wouldn’t take too long to get used to
him. He felt they could become his only real
friends in Oborn, as they were the only ones who
knew his secret, and he could be more natural
with them. Karter was pleased it was the night of a
dark moon, which meant he had absolutely no
urge to change form.

Amy led him down an airy corridor through to

the kitchen, redolent with the smell of Italian
cooking. He barely had a chance to inhale and
appreciate the rich aromas before he was taken
into the large sitting room filled with an expansive
squashy settee and several equally appealing
lounge chairs. Chris was standing by the fireplace
and stepped forward to greet Karter, holding out
his hand.

“I’m so pleased you came. I’ve been looking for

ways to come in to the shop and apologize for
how I acted back there. I behaved so badly.” Chris
blushed as Karter took his hand in his own.

“You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about. It

was scary, even for me. I thought you coped well.”

Amy excused herself to answer the door after

the knocker rapped a couple of times in the
distance.

By the time the new guests came into the

lounge, Chris and Karter were comfortable with
each other, and their initial awkwardness had
faded. By mutual consent, they had quickly agreed

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there was no reason to revisit the incident in the
Armak and they were both relieved.

“This is Nira and her partner Daram.” Amy

introduced the newcomers to Karter. “They’re our
best friends here in Oborn.”

Karter nodded, smiled at Nira and held out his

hand to Daram. As soon as their skins touched,
Karter felt as if he had been punched in the gut.
His eyes locked with Daram’s, who signaled no
with an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

The last thing Karter thought he would find in

the human town of Oborn was another shifter. His
senses on high alert, he tuned into every
movement of this newcomer as he tried to figure
out why Daram’s scent was so different to his, but
filled with so many similarities. His only
conclusion was Daram wasn’t a Wolven, but he
was a shifter of some kind. Karter couldn’t wait to
get him alone to find out more.

Amy looked at her watch. “He’s late again! I’m

going to kill him.” and wandered off into the
kitchen followed by Nira.

“Don’t worry, she’s only murderous when she’s

hungry,” Chris quipped. “Her brother always
makes her cross. He promised to be here early to
help with a few things, but he’s always running
behind schedule.”

Suddenly the front door banged, and Amy’s

brother breezed into the room. Karter looked up,

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and time stood still.

The tall, dark-haired man widened his blue

eyes in shock. “Karter? What…?”

Karter felt sick and reeled backwards. The

blood drained from his face. Seconds felt like
hours. He turned in slow motion.

“Sorry, Chris, tell Amy I have to go. Something

important’s come up,” Karter said, as he rushed
towards the front door, and ran out of the house.

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Chapter Nine


minute later, Amy’s brother also left,
throwing an excuse over his shoulder to a

bewildered Daram and Chris, as he raced after
Karter, hoping he hadn’t lost him in the dark of
the night. It was only a few moments later that he
caught sight of Karter’s fleeing figure as he loped
down the main street towards his shop. By the
time he arrived at the back door, it was firmly
shut, and he was left to bang on the wood with his
fist.

“Karter, Karter, open up. It’s me Mark. You

have to let me in.”

Mark camped at the front door of Pants on Fire!,

waiting for the store to open on Saturday
morning. He’d been there most of the night, only
going back to his sister’s to pick up a coffee and a
warmer jumper. Despite Amy giving him the third
degree, Mark refused to answer any of her
questions and strode outside again as soon as he
could.

A

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Although many of his own questions could

have been answered by quizzing Amy, Mark was
focused on speaking to Karter. He knew his sister
would want him to spill his guts in return, and
that he wouldn’t do.

He’d never been able to get the Wolven out of

his head, despite the abrupt end to their
relationship. He still had the vivid image in his
mind of Karter’s father storming to the travelers’
campsite, and drawing his own father away from
the fire to tell him his son was banned from ever
entering the Armak again. Despite being desperate
to see Karter, Mark was never allowed out of his
father’s sight until they left, and then never
permitted to accompany him on his trading visits
again.

Time passed, but Karter’s image was never far

from Mark’s mind. Within a year of the disastrous
forced breakup, Mark packed his things and left
Oborn to visit some of the cities in the west and
try to forget.

Now he was back. Although Karter had never

left his heart, Mark had almost managed to put his
first and only love in a separate compartment in
his soul. Just when he thought he finally had his
emotions under control, one of the first people he
saw when he returned home was Karter, and all
the memories flooded back.

There was no way Mark was going to allow his

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one true love to slip away from him again. He was
older, wiser, and much more determined.

The opening time for Pants On Fire! came and

went, but there was still no sign of Karter. People
arrived at the store to find the door locked and the
Closed sign still visible. They also found Mark
sitting wearily on the steps with a flask of coffee.
He’d plastered a determined look on his face and
hoped he looked fierce enough so they didn’t dare
ask him any questions. It seemed to work, as they
just went away muttering about returning after
the weekend.

When it became apparent Karter wasn’t about

to open up that day, Mark decided on another
tactic. He scrounged around in the shed at the
back of Karter’s property. He found a ladder with
an extension long enough to reach an open
window he saw on the upper floor. Mark put the
ladder up against the wall of the building as
quietly as possible and, after making sure it was
stable, began the short climb. As soon as he
reached the top, he could see it was the window to
the bathroom and, luckily, the sill wasn’t filled
with clutter or ceramic objects. In fact, the
bathroom looked modern and very tidy. Mark
took a moment to admire the sleek lines of the
large bath and the fluffy white towels that hung
with geometrical precision on the rail. It looked a
lot like the bathroom of an expensive hotel, one

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which Mark wouldn’t have minded paying top
dollar to visit. He’d never been in the Wolven’s
home and had always been curious about how it
would look.

He swung lightly into the room and stood

upright. Mark spent a few seconds inhaling
Karter’s familiar scent. Despite the cleanliness of
the small space, Karter had left his personal mark
in there, a heady combination of his male Wolven
aroma and the smell of the sea, which Mark
instantly recognized.

His eighteenth birthday gift to Karter had been

a bottle of “Sea Snake”, a new men’s cologne,
which his father had brought to the Armak to sell
to the Wolven. Mark had used most of his month’s
allowance to buy the bottle, saying it was for
himself. It looked like Karter still had a soft spot
for him, if he was wearing the fragrance after all
this time.

The bathroom door was ajar, and Mark slipped

quietly through onto the landing. There was a
choice of two doors, and he picked the one on the
left, which was also open a crack. He pushed it
gently and was shocked at what he saw.

His strong, dynamic, and powerful Karter was

curled up in a ball on the large king size bed. He
had pulled the feather quilt around him to make a
nest and was crushing the pillow in his arms,
rocking in anguish. Tears were streaming down

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his beautiful face, and Mark’s heart went out to
him. He was beside his old lover in an instant and
held him in his arms, stroking his hair.

“My love, my love, shhhhhh, shhhhhh. You’re

safe, you’re home. I’m here, I’m here with you.”

* * * *

There was a moment of stillness, then Karter
suddenly pushed Mark away and retreated
towards the bed head with a horrified look on his
face.

“You, what are you doing here? How did you

get in? What do you want? Haven’t you done
enough?” Through the blur of his tears, Karter had
failed to recognize Mark and saw only Bane,
despite the differences in eye color and scent. The
memory of Mark had been suppressed for so long,
he was unable to make sense of what was
happening.

Mark continued to make soothing noises,

patting Karter’s leg as if he was a stray kitten,
trying to calm him without using words.

After a while, Karter took the tissues Mark

handed to him, wiped his eyes, and blew his nose.
He gave a long shuddering sigh and took a long,
good look at the gorgeous man sitting on his bed.

He felt stupid thinking his childhood love was

Bane. Looking at Mark was liking looking in a

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mirror, Karter thought as he took in the chiseled
features, high cheekbones and strong chin—only
one of them was dark and the other fair.


His heart skipped a beat as he surveyed Mark’s

sculpted chest, so broad and well defined. He
remembered touching, stroking and licking that
same skin a lifetime ago.

“Mark, is it really you?”
“Of course it is. Who did you think it was,

silly?” Mark’s reply was light and friendly and
Karter knew he was trying not to distress him any
more, or send him back into a frenzy of crying.

“Look, I’ll just go down stairs and make you a

nice cup of tea—my mum always said tea cured
everything. You can pop into the bathroom and
wash your face.”

Karter heard Mark trot down the stairs,

presumably to find the kitchen, while Karter, still
in a daze, walked to the bathroom to clean up.


When Karter came down the stairs, feeling and

looking slightly better, he found a mug of tea and
a plate of biscuits Mark must have dug up from
the pantry waiting for him on the table. Mark was
already sitting and taking sips of his tea while
looking at Karter from under his lowered eyelids.

The silence lengthened and began to get

awkward when Mark finally spoke.

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“It’s been a long time, Karter. You have no idea

how often I’ve thought of you.”

“Couldn’t have thought of me that much,”

Karter’s voice grated. “Or you would have come
back. I never saw you again after that night. I
could only assume you had decided our
friendship was too much trouble,” he said angrily.

Mark sat back in his chair, his eyes sad. “I know

you won’t find this the best explanation, but your
dad came to our campsite that night and scared
the fuck out of mine. He told him what we’d been
doing, and I can’t say my old man was pleased to
hear I’d been consorting,” he snorted, “with a
Wolven. The upshot was I was virtually tied up in
the caravan and kept there until we got back to
Oborn. I got a whipping I didn’t forget in a hurry
and was made to swear on my mother’s life I
wouldn’t try to go back or there’d be war. Dad
made me realize I would breach the innocence of
all Oborners if I caused any trouble between them
and the Armak, and it could lead to disaster. So I
did as I was told and tried to forget you…but I
couldn’t.”

Karter opened his mouth to speak, but Mark

held up a hand to silence him. “Wait ‘til I finish,
then it’s your turn to explain why you didn’t come
after me!” Mark swallowed another sip of tea.

“My dad never allowed me to come trading

with him again and after a while, I thought the

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best thing would be that I try to forget you. You’re
harder to forget than you think.” He smiled.

“I travelled to the west, got a few jobs, but

didn’t stay long doing anything much. Tried to fall
in love again, but no one, believe it or not, came
up to my standards. You’d spoilt me for anyone
else. I tried hard to forget about you, but I
couldn’t. The best I could do was to put you away
in a small box inside my soul and never let you
out. I thought I’d managed that, and decided I
could face coming back to Oborn. I’ve only been
back a week, and guess who I found ready to have
dinner at my sister’s house, chatting to my sister’s
friends!”

Mark leant forward on the table and shot a hot

look at Karter. “Now you—spill.”

There was a minute of tense silence. “Much the

same as you. My dad told me to leave you alone,
so I did. I decided I needed a change, so here I am.
That’s it.”

“Bullshit, that’s not it. There’s more. Why are

you really here? You wouldn’t leave your pals in
the Armak without a very good reason. I could
imagine you chasing after a lost lover if you felt
strongly enough, but that’s obviously not the
reason you left. There’s something else.

“How did you meet my sister and Chris? And

there’s also the small matter of you running away
from me like I was poison, and my finding you in

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your bedroom like that. Give it up!” Mark grabbed
Karter’s arm and gave it a tug.

“Mind your own fucking business. This has

nothing to do with you. There’s nothing wrong.
Just piss off and leave me alone. Thanks for
making the tea, but no thanks for trespassing. I
really don’t need to see you again.”

Karter stood up abruptly, spilling the remains

of his mug across the table, and lurched out of the
room and back up the stairs. The bedroom door
slammed and the noise reverberated around the
small kitchen,

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Chapter Ten


omething had happened to his wonderful,
vibrant Karter, and he needed to find out what

it was, so the first person Mark went to for help
was Amy.

Mark thought if he had to drink one more cup

of tea, he would pour it over his own head. It
seemed tea was an essential ingredient for a heart-
to-heart, and he was on his fifth cup for the day, as
he listened to Amy tell the tale of their adventures
in the Armak and their capture by the Others. Of
course, he’d first had to explain his own interest in
Karter. Even though he was loathe to share his
most precious memories, he did tell Amy enough
for her to realize these two men were soul mates
and meant to be together. Satisfied, and knowing
Mark knew Karter’s true nature as a Wolven, Amy
told her tale.

Mark still couldn’t work out from Amy’s story

how there would have been repercussions bad
enough to cause Karter’s current distress, or which

S

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would have forced him to leave his people.

After spending the rest of the day thinking

about the solution to the riddle, Mark was sure he
wouldn’t get any more information out of Karter.
The look on his face when he’d told him to mind
his own business and leave him alone was
enough.

Amy had told him about the secret way into the

Armak through the ranges, and the next day he
borrowed a horse from a friend and packed a
swag with a few provisions. Mark told anyone
who enquired that he was off on a short relaxing
camping trip.

He’d asked Amy to keep an eye on Pants on

Fire! for any sign of Karter and to give him some
space if he did appear.

Travelling on horseback was faster than on foot,

and Mark made good time through the mountain
pass. His desire to break the veil allowed him
access. He got held up at the rock fall, but
managed to clear away enough rubble to bring his
mount through.

As he got closer to the end of the narrow

pathway, Mark became more cautious and just
before the last bend, he found a safe place to leave
his mount tethered with some feed, and travelled
the rest of the way on foot.

He was glad the moon was still just coming out

of its dark phase, as he thought he was unlikely to

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come across any packs of young indiscriminate
Wolven on the hunt. Karter had taught him a lot
in the time they had spent together, and he knew
where Karter’s family home was. He decided he
would visit Kanan and demand an explanation.

When he reached the cabin, he was relieved to

see a light on in the window. Mark walked
carefully up onto the porch and peered through.
He was disappointed to see only a young man
about his own age sitting on an old sagging sofa,
whittling a piece of wood with a small sharp knife,
which glinted in the lamplight. Must be Karter’s
brother, Mark thought, although he hadn’t known
he’d had one.

He’d come this far, so he might as well take the

last step. Mark knocked softly on the door,
knowing Wolven had enhanced senses, and
waited nervously for it to open.

* * * *

Willem blinked in surprise. His first sniff had told
him all he needed to know about the stranger on
the doorstep. He was human and had no business
here.

“What do you want? You know your kind

aren’t welcome.”

Mark cleared his throat. “I’ve come to see

Kanan.”

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“Well, you’re too late.” Willem slammed the

door, then opened it again to Mark’s insistent
knocking.

“What do you mean ‘too late’?”
“Kanan’s dead. Been dead a while. Now piss

off.”

“This is the second time a Wolven has told me

to piss off in as many days. So, I don’t think I
will.” Mark walked past Willem and into the
room.

“I’m a good friend of Karter’s.” Willem heard

the emphasis on the word good. “And I’ve come to
find out why he left the Armak and landed in a
town full of humans on the other side of the
ranges.”

Willem sank down on the sofa and waved Mark

to a chair opposite.

“Well, you’re a feisty one, I’ll give you that.

And very much Karter’s type. I can now see why
he may have fallen for Bane. I bet it’s because of
you.”

“Who’s Bane?”

It was a long night. Willem didn’t know what

made him trust the human, but he admired his
bravery in seeking to find out the truth about
Karter. It was obvious, too, that Mark loved
Karter, or he wouldn’t have bothered to put his
own life in jeopardy by visiting the Wolven on his

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own without any backup.

By the time dawn broke over the Armak, he’d

told Mark everything, even down to his
resemblance to Bane and Willem’s theories on
why Karter had fallen in lust with the black
bastard.

“I’m happy to know the truth, but so terribly

sad for Karter too.” Mark leaned back in the chair
and sighed. “I can go back now and help him
regain his sense of self-worth, I’m sure of it, but
I’m horrified at the torture he’s had to endure at
the hands of a fiend.”

The Wolven heard the anger build in his

visitor’s voice and could see if he didn’t intervene,
nothing would stop Mark storming into the Wild
Boar and battling it out with Bane—and he knew
who’d win. Karter would never forgive him if he
let anything happen to the human who had been
his first, and likely his only, love.

Willem finally managed to calm Mark down,

impressing on him the importance of keeping a
low profile as he made his way out of the town
and back home. He reminded the impetuous
human of his frailty against a Wolven, even if they
weren’t in their wolf pelts.

“Thanks, Willem. I’d better go now while it’s

still daylight. It’ll be safer.”

“Don’t be stupid, we’re Wolven, not Vamps.

We walk around in the dark and in the daylight

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just like you lot! Wait a minute.” He rummaged
around in a drawer in the big oak dresser at the far
end of the lounge room and triumphantly pulled
out a small leather pouch attached to a long thong.

“Here, wear this. It’s Wolfsbane. They won’t be

able to smell you, and won’t be able to come near
you either. Makes you virtually invisible and
impervious to attack at the same time,” Willem
said as he tied the pouch around Mark’s neck.

They said their farewells, and Willem had the

last word. “Tell that silly bugger that I miss him
and wish him good luck.”

* * * *

Mark had decided to return to the fissure the way
he had come, skirting around the outside of the
small township and avoiding the main ways. It
was just bad luck that he walked straight into a
small open space in the trees and came face-to-face
with his lookalike. Bane wouldn’t have heard him
coming because of the magick of the Wolfsbane,
but he couldn’t help but see him as they stood
almost nose to nose in the dappled sunlight.

“What have we here? I can’t smell anything,

which tells me something. You’d be surprised how
informative the absence of a sense can be,” Bane
mused. His mouth curved into a cruel grin.

Mark knew immediately who he’d bumped in

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to. He straightened his back to make himself
appear taller, not that he thought it gave him an
advantage over Bane, who towered over him.
Mark could understand why Karter had been
attracted to this Wolven, who exuded power and
self-confidence, but for the life of him, he couldn’t
see where the two of them looked alike. Apart
from both having dark hair, the resemblance
seemed to end.

As they sized each other up, Bane’s face

changed and narrowed, and for a few seconds, his
Wolven face hovered like a mask, snarling and
showing its teeth.

The apparition made Mark recoil, and he took a

step backwards, almost tripping over his own feet.
He managed to keep his balance at the last minute,
saving himself an embarrassing fall at the feet of
his enemy.

Mark knew he didn’t stand a chance with the

Wolven if he picked a fight, and his only hope was
to count on the Wolfsbane pouch to protect him,
and to move away as fast as he could. But getting
around the man-wolf wasn’t going to be easy. He
didn’t imagine Bane was about to let him saunter
off and mind his own business.

“There’s something about you, a certain feeling

I’m getting about one of my long-lost consorts.
You have an aura about you—ah, I know. You’re a
friend of that weakling Karter’s. The absence of

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scent makes you human, otherwise there wouldn’t
be a need to disguise it!” Bane seemed to grow
taller and more menacing.

“So Karter consorted with a Forbidden. How

unsurprising. What is surprising is that he hasn’t
impaled you on his pretty, but useless cock and
split you in half. Mmmm. Could that be love?”

Mark was horrified at what he heard. How

could Bane know all this? Had Karter told him
about their sweet relationship and tainted it
forever, or was Bane so intuitive and clever he
could simply put four and four together and make
the right number come up?

Whatever the reason, Mark had to keep his

cool. He needed to get away and not engage with
him in any way. This dude was scary, and he
knew he didn’t have any skills or powers to
defend himself apart from the pouch.

“What? Nothing to say?”
Bane put his hands on his hips and stared down

at Mark.

“Well, be off with you. I know where you come

from, so if I ever want to pay a visit I’ll drop in
and say hi.”

Bane gestured to Mark and pointed to the forest

path behind him. “Off you go. I’ve temporarily
lost interest, but if you don’t move soon, things
might change.”

Mark took Bane’s offer and hurried away. Too

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afraid to look back, Mark walked as fast as he
could without running. He didn’t want to give the
monster behind him a chance to laugh at his fear,
but after a few bends in the track, he did venture a
glance back the way he had come and gave a sigh
of relief when he saw he was alone again.

The encounter had shaken him more than he

realized, and the puzzle of why Bane hadn’t done
anything more but sneer and then let him pass
troubled him.

It didn’t take Mark long to reach his horse,

which had kindly stayed tethered where he’d left
it, even though it had run out of feed. He let it
have one more drink from the nearby rock pool
before mounting and turning back towards Oborn.
The ride gave him plenty of time to think.

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Chapter Eleven


ow’s he been? Has he been up? Did he
open the shop?”

“Slow down, Mark. Not so good, yes, and yes,

in answer to your questions. But more to the point
right now, what did you find out?”

Mark had decided on the way back through the

Armak he would keep Karter’s secret. It wasn’t
anyone else’s business, and he would have his
work cut out anyway to help his life-love through
this. And that was the other thing. There was no
way he was going to let Karter out of his life
again. They were meant for each other, and Mark
was going to do everything he could to make sure
they stayed together, whatever Karter said. He
knew Karter loved him, too. Otherwise, why
would he have kept wearing the same cologne
he’d been gifted so many years ago, and why had
he fallen so hard in lust for the horrible Bane if it
hadn’t been that Bane had reminded him of Mark
somehow?

“H

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Before he sorted Karter out, Mark needed a

shower and some clean clothes. He ignored his
sister’s questions.

An hour later, feeling refreshed and more in

control of his life than he’d ever been, Mark set off
for Pants on Fire! He admired the window display
as he got closer to the attractive boutique and felt a
sense of pride in the workmanship and innovation
shown by his soon-to-be life mate.

Mark hadn’t known of Karter’s talents with

clothing. Whenever they spoke, they talked of
many other things, but never the future. They
were always too afraid to break the spell of their
short moments together.

This time, the store’s welcoming Open sign was

facing towards the street, and Mark could see
Karter fussing about behind the counter. He had
his back to Mark when he opened the door and
said, “Be with you in a minute,” as he bent over to
put some stock on the shelves behind him.

Mark admired Karter’s tight and sculpted arse

for a few moments until he turned around and a
look of shock registered on his face.

“What…what are you doing back here? I

thought I told you to piss off.” Karter looked like
he desperately wanted to back away, if there’d
been anywhere to go, but he was trapped between
the counter and the shelving unit behind him.

“Calm down, and don’t say anything. Let me

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talk, and then decide whether you want to push
me away again.” Mark stepped forward and put
his hands on the counter. “But before we have the
conversation we should have had two days ago,
I’m going to temporarily shut the shop, because
this is going to take more than a few minutes.”

After locking the front door and switching the

sign to Closed for Lunch, Mark shooed a dazed
Karter up the stairs to his comfortable lounge and
sat down next to him. Although he kept his
distance, he was close enough to touch Karter if he
needed to.

“I’ve been away for a couple of days. I went to

the Armak and caught up with Willem. He says hi
and that he misses you.”

Mark watched Karter’s face as myriad emotions

flew across it. He knew Karter had understood
that Mark now also knew of his humiliation by
Bane and what had driven him from his home and
friends.

Mark saw Karter search his face for signs of

pity and then visibly relax.

They talked for the rest of the day. The shop

remained shut. By early evening, they were both
emotionally exhausted. The two men had caught
up with their lives and had fallen back into the
easy rhythms of lovers and friends.

Mark held Karter while he cried cleansing tears

for what had happened to him, and they talked

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through Karter’s inability to stop what was taking
place because of Bane’s supernatural powers of
control.

“It wasn’t your fault. Bane is a demon. He’s

amazingly intuitive and a very scary bloke.”
Karter sat up with a shocked look on his face.

“You’ve met him? You’ve talked to him? Tell

me you haven’t.”

Mark recounted the meeting in the glade and

Bane’s words. How he’d quickly figured out Mark
was human and in love with Karter and that the
feelings were mutual.

“He’s dangerous, Mark.”
“I know. Willem said he was having a bad

influence on the local Wolven and turning life
upside down there. Wolven are fighting Wolven,
and the community is being torn apart.”

Finally exhausted by their revelations and by

the raw emotion of being with each other again,
they went to bed, not to love but to comfort,
holding each other through the night as they slept.


Mark woke to the glorious smell of brewed

coffee and, after a quick shower, hurried down
stairs to claim a cup. He found Karter humming in
the kitchen as he stirred a pot of porridge on the
stove. He looked happy and content.

“My, you’re looking good this morning. Good

enough to eat!” A soft blush rose up Karter’s neck.

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“I think it’s a bit early for that, don’t you

think?” he said.

“I don’t know,” Mark teased. “The bed’s still

warm, we can have breakfast up there. Perhaps
you could be the appetizer!”

“We talked about this last night, Mark. We have

to be careful. I love you, I’ve always loved you,
but in that loving we have to have some ground
rules, so I don’t damage you. I’d never be able to
live with myself.”

Over breakfast they discussed their future and

made plans.

“Is there any way we can really love each other

without you hurting me like you say you will?”
Mark asked.

“Well, there is a legend,” Karter said

thoughtfully, “a legend where, if a human who’s
newly bitten by a Wolven jumps the moon with
his life mate, the human becomes Wolven. The
risk is that both human and Wolven could become
wolf and will never return to their human form
again.” Karter shuddered.

“Can we do that? It sounds simple enough.”
“Jumping the moon and transforming to a wolf

forever is one of my worst nightmares. I don’t
know if I could take the risk, even for you.
Anyway, it’s not that simple. The moon has to be
at its fullest point, the lake has to be pure and
clean, and the lovers have to be life mates in heart

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and spirit,” Karter snapped.

“I know this scares you, Karter, but if it’s what

we really want, then it will happen for us. I know
it will.”

They didn’t talk about jumping the moon again

as Karter changed the subject to a dinner at Chris
and Amy’s house that evening.

* * * *

“Come in, you two. It’s so good to see you looking
better, Karter.” Amy kissed him on the cheek and
gave her brother a hug.

The other guests had already arrived, and after

the first few moments of discomfort, where Karter
felt embarrassed about leaving the group in a rush
the week before, he soon felt at ease.

Again, he picked up shifter scent from Daram

and something lesser from Nira, and again Daram
gave him a warning look.

It was a great dinner with lively conversation

and good company. When it was time to clean up,
the guests drifted in to three groups. The girls
bustled about in the kitchen, washing up and
making coffee, so they could catch up and chat.
Chris and Mark went off to the study so Chris
could show his potential brother-in-law plans for
his new cabin in the woods. This left Daram and
Karter to speak privately, and Karter was keen to

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find out more about this other shifter in the town.

“I’m not sure what you are, Daram, but I know

you’re a shifter.”

“I could say the same about you, Karter. You

have the distinctive shifter smell, too. I’m pretty
sure you’re not a threat, and I’m positive I’m not
one either, so let’s save time and reveal ourselves.
No one’s out here, and they can’t see from the
kitchen.”

Karter nodded in assent. If they’d changed on

the count of three they couldn’t have timed it
more perfectly. Suddenly they were facing each
other, the Wolven and a huge snake, which
towered above him with glittering eyes and
beautiful scales.

In an instant they shifted back into their human

form and grinned at each other.

“Wow!” they said in unison.

Daram gave Karter a brief outline of his story.
“I was a full human, but transformed into a

snake by magick wielded by my skin partner,
Nira,” he said with pride in his voice.

“It was all part of an effort to rid the world of a

powerful, but evil snake being—which we did,”
he winked at Karter. “Nira is a hybrid and can
only extend her fangs, but not fully transform.”

By mutual consent, Karter and Daram had

agreed not to tell anyone their secrets, even

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though they knew no one in their small group
would be shocked or even surprised. It just
seemed irrelevant, and both wanted to blend in
with their surroundings in their new hometown.

The two shifters were deep in conversation

when they were joined by Chris and Mark.

“You two seem to be getting on well,” Chris

said cheerfully. “Looks like coffee is ready too.”

As they wandered back inside, Karter thought

about the successful transformation Daram had
undergone from human to shifter, and how it
hadn’t seemed to hurt him at all.


Karter was still thinking about transformation a

week later, but hadn’t come to any comfortable
way forward. He remembered their lovemaking
last night. Mark had moved his things in to the
rooms above Pants on Fire! the day before and, to
celebrate, they had spent the evening in bed with
champagne and strawberries. The pair had fallen
in to an easy rhythm, making love, running the
shop and getting to know their new friends.

* * * *

“Mmmm, just roll over.” Mark gave Karter a gentle
push. “Close your eyes and feel.”

Mark took a mouthful of champagne, then gently

closed his lips over his lover’s belly button, allowing the

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warmed liquid to flow into the dimpled recess before

licking it up again. He picked up a strawberry and
teased Karter with it before letting him have a bite of

the luscious red fruit and kissing him. The kiss
deepened, and their tongues played out a sensual ballet,
tasting each other, sliding over perfect teeth.

Mark pulled his lips gently away and began a slow

exploration of Karter’s face, pressing feathery kisses on

his forehead, inhaling the herbal aroma of his silky hair
before sliding to his earlobes.

Alternately lightly nipping and sucking the lobes of

Karter’s ears, Mark took his mouth away as Karter

began to writhe beneath him. He blew gently into the
hollow at his lover’s throat, before applying his focused
attention to kissing and stroking the hard, toned body.

He circled erect nipples with his thumb and forefinger,
pulling them to delicious, dark peaks.

He felt Karter move again, straining his taut body

up from the mattress, pushing against Mark, as if he

was willing him to slide further down to the center of
his manhood. Mark resisted and continued his slow

descent without hurry. After all, they had all night!

Mark finally reached the object of both their desire

and inhaled the warm aroma from the tangled bush of

hair at the cleft of Karter’s legs. Nuzzling into the fur
above Karter’s very ready cock, Mark cradled the two

delicious balls in his left hand, while holding the shaft
of Karter’s prick in his right. Using a firm grip, he slid

his palm up and down, massaging the balls, feeling
them pulse and grow in his hand. He bent his head and

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gently blew across the glans and felt the shaft thicken

and swell even more.

His mouth opened and his lips enclosed the tip of the

Wolven’s cock. The tongue followed and wrapped itself
around its prey. It was Mark’s turn to feel like a
predator as he licked and sucked the man-wolf’s

engorged and pulsing prick, bringing it almost to the
peak of orgasm. Recognizing the moment just before the

point of no return, Mark flipped his shifter partner to
one side. He pushed his cock and balls towards Karter’s

willing mouth and groaned when he felt the hot lips
and busy tongue work him to the peak of ecstasy.

When he felt he was about to come, he took Karter’s

cock back into his mouth and sucked. They bucked
frantically on the bed, both consumed with urgent

primal needs. And when they came in unison, they felt
the little death of life-giving orgasm that had taken

them to the stars and back.

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Chapter Twelve


hunder shook the windows, and in harmony
with the rolling rumble, forked lightning split

the sky. The storm had been building for a day,
and humid weather had kept everyone sweaty
and irritable. Although Pants on Fire! had been
open, there had only been a dribble of customers
with no one having enough energy to buy. Karter
said he was sure they had only drifted in to escape
the heat and enjoy his air conditioning.

Mark sat up in bed. He thought he heard a

crash downstairs and got up, giving Karter a
shake on the way to alert him.

“I think a branch might have blown through a

window downstairs with the storm. I’m just going
to check.”

“I’ll come with you,” his bed mate mumbled.
Mark pulled on his jeans and sand shoes and

walked carefully down the stairs. The power was
out. Bugger the storm, he thought. He could only
see snapshots of the world around him whenever

T

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the lightning flashed in the sky, making
everything look, very briefly, like daylight.

He walked into the shop just as another crack of

light flashed and saw, to his horror, that a huge
tree trunk had come through the pretty front
window. It looked like a bizarre footbridge,
reaching almost from the walkway outside to the
counter.

The world went black again, and he felt Karter

bump into is back and stop abruptly.

“What the fuck!” Karter sounded horrified at

the damage.

“It’s okay. Nothing a good clean up and a

glazier can’t fix.” Mark reassured him. “But we
can’t leave it ‘til morning. All the fittings will be
ruined. Have you got any storm lights or torches?
It’s too windy for candles. And although you
might be able to see with your super night vision,
I can’t.”

At the next crash of thunder and lightning

strike, Karter told Mark to stay where he was
while he hunted up the lanterns. When the sky lit
up again, Mark caught a movement out of the
corner of his eye, and his attention was drawn to
the street. Four dark figures stood there staring at
the shop, and he felt a ripple of fear.

Mark backed out of the shop, and it was his

turn to bump in to Karter.

“Hey, Kart, there’s someone in the street

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watching us. There are actually four someones,
and I have a bad feeling about it.”

“Who’d be crazy enough to be out in this

weather, and at this time of night?”

“Like I said, I’ve got a bad feeling, Karter. I

think it might be Bane.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would he bother?”
“I don’t know, but I got the distinct impression,

when I ran into him, that he still had unfinished
business with you, and meeting me kind of made
it worse.”

Karter paused, and then made one of the best

decisions of the night. He pulled out his mobile
phone and called for help.

“Sorry to wake you, Daram, but we’ve got a bit

of a situation at the shop, and it would be good to
have you here as back up, if you’re game.”

“How’s Daram going to help? We don’t need

someone else cluttering up the situation, and we
certainly don’t want to worry about his safety.”

“Don’t worry about Daram. There’s something

he hasn’t told you. He’s a shifter, too.”

“Another Wolven in Oborn? Why didn’t you

say?”

“He’s not a wolf-shifter. You’ll see. I think he’ll

be handy. And I promise I’ll explain it all later.”

Mark shrugged and pushed down the anger

that Karter had kept another secret from him,
when they’d promised never to do that again.

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Now wasn’t the time to argue. He looked back to
the street and tried to concentrate on the situation
they were facing right now. There’d be time later,
he hoped, to have it out with Karter about keeping
secrets.

The storm was moving away, and the lightning

had become less frequent by the time Daram
arrived. He appeared suddenly and silently in the
shop, making both Karter and Mark jump.

“Glad to have you here,” Karter said as he

shook Daram’s hand.

Mark was still annoyed and left his own hands

in his pockets.

“What’s going on?”
They filled Daram in on what they thought the

situation might be without revealing Bane and
Karter’s history, just saying they’d had a run in
with him in the Armak.

As they talked, the rain stopped and the clouds

parted, showing the full moon at the height of its
power, bright enough to be almost a match for the
lightning.

The four dark figures had been patient, but now

were moving towards the broken shop window.

“Time to come out, Karter, and get the floor

show going again,” Bane’s voice seemed
artificially loud and reverberated around the
shattered room.

Karter shivered and Mark gave him a quick,

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firm hug, whispering, “You’ve got back-up now,
and you’re not under his spell anymore.
Remember your own power this time.”

Karter’s hand snaked into cupboard under the

counter and came out with the pouch of
Wolfsbane and forced Mark to put it on. “At least
it will give you some protection from the
bastards.”

“Let’s go outside and meet them,” Daram said.

“Won’t gain anything if they come in here and
make even more mess.”


The two shifters and human stood on one side

of the street, facing three Others and Bane. It was
eerily reminiscent of the old cowboy movies when
the good guys and bad guys had a shootout in the
main street. Mark was grateful this was a
shopping precinct and, as far as he knew, he and
Karter were the only residents.

Moving to stand behind his companions, Bane

let them make the first move. Not known for their
intelligence, the Others rushed forward to be
confronted by a giant snake, mouth open and
fangs dripping with venom. Mark didn’t have
time for shock. He’d picked up a broken piece of
metal clothes rack and swiped one of the Others
with it, bringing him to his knees. Daram wrestled
briefly with the remaining two, keeping them off-
balance enough to prevent them shifting into their

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Wolven form.

The giant snake wrapped his coils around them

and, almost as an afterthought, scooped up the
third bruised shifter and used his powerful
muscles to crush all of them into submission. A
light grazing with his venom-tipped fangs, and
they were unconscious and not likely to cause any
more trouble for a while.

Bane sneered. “So, you’re still a weakling.

Letting others do your dirty work? Come over
here and let me stick it to you again. You know
you liked it.”

Karter took the bait and shifted. Mark watched

in shock. He hadn’t seen his lover in his true form
since the first time they’d met, and he was so
much more beautiful.

Thick blue-grey pelt covered rippling muscles,

which were hypnotizing to watch as Karter
bounded towards Bane. He fell into a crouch,
bunched his hindquarters, and leapt straight at his
tormenter.

Bane moved fast and appeared behind Karter,

still in his human form, laughing as the wolf
pounced on thin air. “You’ll really have to try
harder than that, Karter, my boy,” he sneered and
shifted into his own wolf’s pelt. Despite Bane’s
dark hair and dark complexion as a human, his
wolf shape was white as snow, but nowhere near
as pure.

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The grey and white shapes rushed at each

other, each lunging for the neck and for the death
grip.

The pristine white pelt soon became as grey as

Karter’s as it picked up the dirt and mud of the
wet street. Clouds covered the moon’s light and it
became impossible to see which Wolven was
which.

Mark stood on the sidelines, helpless to act. He

didn’t have the strength or the power of the
Wolven, but his rage was building as he heard the
growling and snarling of the two fighting only feet
away from him. He knew this was a life-and-death
struggle, and that whoever won would leave a
carcass behind. He just prayed it wouldn’t be
Karter’s body in the street.

Daram returned to his human shape and also

stood back. Mark appreciated his decision,
acknowledging this was Karter’s fight and it
would do his friend no good if he interfered.
Karter needed to best his foe in order to restore his
self-esteem and dignity. Although Karter’s story
hadn’t been shared with Daram, Mark knew he
would have picked up enough information from
Bane’s taunts to piece some of it together.

The Wolven began to tire. They were evenly

matched, and neither had made a mistake. Both
had taken a grip on the throat of the other, twining
their necks into impossible positions, and neither

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was about to let go.

One of the Wolven began to flag, and Mark

immediately spotted it as Karter’s wolf shape. He
impulsively picked up the metal rod he’d brought
out to the battle and ran over to the struggling
pair. He lifted the bar above his head and looked
for an opening to bring it down on Bane’s skull.
More clouds drifted across, and what had been left
of the bright moon light dimmed almost to black.
He was afraid of hitting the wrong Wolven and
hesitated, just as one of them let go and snapped
his head back to get a better grip on the other’s
throat. A paw flew up and hooked at the leather
thong holding the Wolfsbane and ripped it from
his neck. Fangs plunged into his forearm. A
searing pain shot through Mark’s body, and he fell
to the ground writhing in agony.

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Chapter Thirteen


he Wolven turned his attention back to the
matter in hand and sank his teeth into his

opponent. The grey head dipped, and powerful
jaws ripped at throat of the other grey wolf. The
lifeless body and the panting victor lay side by
side, like lovers, as time stopped. In the cloud-
covered light of the moon’s weakened rays,
Daram didn’t know who’d won and was afraid.


Karter took a huge steadying breath and

returned to his man form. He stood over Bane,
whose pelt was filthy and blood-soaked, and spat
down at him. He’d won, but at what cost?

Behind him Mark’s writhing had stopped, and

in place of his human lover lay a wolf. A
handsome wolf, but a wolf just the same. And a
wolf he would stay unless something was done.
They had such little time. The moon was at its
fullest at this moment, and Karter calculated they
had an hour at the most to find the lake and hope

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the clouds kept away.

He had a quick word with Daram, and then

motioned to a disoriented Mark to get up and
follow. The two wolves, one grey and one black,
loped away.


Clouds drifted over the moon again as Bane’s

Wolven form rose as a wraith and drifted away as his
body lay steaming in the rain.


Karter had to keep herding Mark along. The

newly made wolf was distracted by the scents on
the wind and the lust to hunt. Karter knew he
daren’t let Mark have his first kill, because it
would seal him into his wolf shape forever. There
wouldn’t be any hope of changing him into a
Wolven if that happened.

They travelled for half an hour before the lake

came into view, and then climbed to the rocky
outcrop overlooking the water.

Karter wished there could be another way. He

was frightened the tales weren’t true, and either
jumping the moon would have no effect at all, or
he would become trapped in his wolf aspect for
the rest of his life.

The two wolves stood next to each other and

watched as the moon bloomed full and round in
the water below. Karter’s heart beat faster, until he
thought it would pound itself right out of his

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96

chest. Mark looked at Karter, his blue eyes staring.
Karter felt they were boring into his soul, trying to
put words of comfort and hope onto this one long
look. Their noses touched, and without hesitation,
Mark turned his head towards the lake and leapt.

Karter watched the dive in slow motion. Mark’s

wolf body cut through the air and moonbeams in
a graceful arc, then sank into the center of the
watery moon and disappeared.

He took a tentative step back and shivered. He

didn’t know if he could do it. What if it didn’t
work? He scanned the lake for a sign, but the
water was calm, hosting the giant reflection of the
moon.

What if Mark’s leap had been in vain and he

had drowned? Karter was torn. Would it work, or
was it just a fireside tale? What if he jumped and
became a wolf forever. He shivered again. Images
of Mark crossed his eyes like a slide show. Mark
tall and naked, oozing sensuality. Mark dressed,
his muscles showing clearly through the tight
white tee shirt, his thighs filling his jeans in all the
right places. Mark holding him and loving him.

The blood pounded in Karter’s veins and he

came to a decision. He loved Mark as his life mate.
If Mark was lost, then he would be lost too.

Karter took another small step backwards,

bunched his muscles, and leaped, launching into
the air after his life mate, his lover, his love, and to

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their destiny.

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98


Epilogue


t was their wedding night. The simple
handfasting had been enough for them to show

their love in front of friends. The symbolic binding
of their wrists showed their faith in their
relationship and future together.

Mark led Karter into their bedroom where he’d

scattered hundreds of red rose petals. Their scent
hung in the air and made them giddy. A bottle of
red champagne rested in an ice bucket with two
glasses on a bedside table.

They were both nervous and excited, as if they

hadn’t seen or touched each other before.

Mark pulled Karter against him, running his

strong hands down the muscles of his partner’s
back, feeling them ripple under the soft silk shirt.
He slowly tugged the material out of its neat trap
beneath the waistband and belt of moleskin
trousers until he was able to slip his hands
underneath silk and touch Karter’s smooth skin.
Mark stepped back a fraction, while still caressing

I

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99

and touching, leaving just enough space between
them for Karter to follow his mate’s example and
release Mark’s shirt.

Hands on skin, they explored the contours of

their upper bodies, staring into each other’s eyes.
It had always been their most erotic moment. Eye
contact locked them into sensual depths they
could never explain.

Karter groaned as Mark moved his hands to the

front of his shirt, unfastening each pearly button
with slow care. He pushed Karter’s shirt over his
shoulders, trapping his arms by his side. He
dipped his head to kiss the hollow of his lover’s
neck and slid his mouth to first one, then the other
erect, taught nipple, tasting honey and lime. He
pushed the shirt down further until it lay in a
puddle on the floor at their feet.

Mark’s shirt was next to go as Karter mirrored

his lover’s movements.

Their arms slid around each other. Their

mouths locked in a deep kiss. They swayed with
desire, penises swelling against the taught fabric
of their traditional Australian outback trousers,
which didn’t have an inch of give in them to
provide room for their growth.

Lips still locked, in unison, they undid each

other’s belt buckles, buttons and zips allowing
their throbbing cocks some welcome freedom.

Wriggling out of the rest of their clothing, still

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100

wrapped up in their embrace, the two Wolven
sank onto the rose petals in their human forms,
sending their perfume swirling into the air. With
their enhanced senses, the petals were
intoxicating. They had no need of champagne.

Karter reached out for a bottle of massage oil

and poured a little into his hands. He flipped
Mark over onto his front and began slowly
rubbing the oil into his partner’s back, starting
from the taught shoulder muscles and moving
downwards with firm, slow strokes.

Mark groaned and lifted himself off the bed

towards Karter, only to be gently pushed down
again.

“Lie still, my mate. I’m going to love you as you

deserve,” Karter whispered.

The warm, gentle, oiling massage was amazing,

but also turned Mark on so much he had to grind
himself into the bed, as Karter wouldn’t allow him
to push back against his prize.

He groaned. “Just fuck me.”
“Not yet.”
Mark was relaxed and ready. He turned onto

his side and took the oil bottle from Karter. He
caressed his mate as his eyes misted. “At last, we
can love each other as we should.”

They spooned in the bed groaning with

desire—both as the giver and the receiver—crying
out in pleasure. Hands on skin, they became one

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101

at last.

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About the Author


Swann Wilde lives on a rural acreage somewhere
in the vast continent of Australia with her man,
two cats and an adored dog.

Her first venture into writing was when she

was twelve years old—a handwritten newsletter
about animals and their care—and she hasn’t
stopped writing since.

After discovering computers, Swann fell in love

with technology and can’t think of a better way to
spend a winter’s evening or a summer’s day than
reading a good book that she’s downloaded from
the internet.

When she’s not reading and writing—well,

she’s reading and writing, with a glass of red wine
and some excellent dark chocolate by her elbow.


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