Desired by the Pack: Part One: A BBW Paranormal Romance by Emma Storm Page B
Authors: Emma Storm
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News.”
“That’s a residential neighborhood,” Cross said. “What was a news crew doing there?”
Allen’s jaw bulged as he filled his cheeks with air, then blew it out fast. “Unexplained fire in an impossible location.”
Beck raised an eyebrow and Allen elaborated.
“There was a man-made pond in the neighborhood. A kid reported a fire on the pond. It’s temporarily being called a chemical fire, but that’s about as likely as a supernatural cause.”
The only creature Beck knew of that could create fire on water was a Ravager, a being made entirely of solar flames. He would rather accept the chemical explanation but the coincidence of a creature resembling a werewolf in its warrior form sighted near a suspicious fire was too great to ignore.
Passing Allen’s phone to Jared, one of the pack’s two scouts, Beck said, “Take a look around the neighborhood and see what you find.”
Shoulders visibly slumping with relief, Allen rubbed his hand across his face. “Thank you. Listen, fires are breaking out across the whole damn continent. Some are a result of those vampire issues in the cities but vampires don’t explain wildfires in swamp land in winter.”
“What’s public opinion? Any other so-called sightings?” Animosity toward shifters--toward non-humans of all stripe--was at an all-time high. The rural areas were filling with people trying to escape the cities. Beck was fine with that--to an extent. He didn’t want to cage humans in with lawless vampires, but he didn’t want people in the forests either.
Werewolves didn’t number the way vampires did, at least not earth-side. The shifters not waging war in the Light Realms could ill-afford to lose lives to human fear, which grew more and more violent every day.
“The usual,” Allen said after a pull from his glass. “Punishments from God. Global warming. Monsters trying to burn the humans out.”
Beck crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels, digesting that. The burnt sugar goodness teased across his nostrils. Pink lips, a rounded cheek, and a dark ponytail caught his eye, quickly vanishing behind the broad shoulders of a biker standing up at the wrong moment. His wolf went on high alert.
An air of unease rolled through the crowd, as if the collective intoxicated brain had suddenly caught wind of something dangerous. Beck looked around but nobody was staring back at him.
Nobody except her , and her blue-gray eyes darted away as soon as their gazes met.
“Impossible,” he murmured, staring at her hourglass silhouette. Impossible, but undeniable. Eight years hadn’t changed anything. She was still all hips, ass and breasts offsetting a narrow waist. Built for claiming. Female fashion was kinder to full-figured women than it had been years ago, and the jeans she wore hugged her body instead of trying to hide it. Beck’s fingers itched. He wanted to wrap them around her waist and pull her close the way he should have done back then.
“What do you want to do about this?” Cross’s question called Beck away from the desire coiling inside him.
Tearing his attention away from the soft woman with overflowing assets, he nodded at Jared. “Get a ride with Allen. Let me know what you find.”
Allen rose from his stool. He threw a roll of cash on the bar. The bills would cover Allen and the Guardians, because that was one of many supporting roles wolf-blooded humans played.
Friends, family, contacts. Eyes and ears and financial support when necessary.
It wasn’t necessary for Allen to bankroll the Guardians but Beck let it happen because it was a point of pride for the investigator whose wife enjoyed a good life on safe, protected Guardian land.
Beck scanned the bar again, once again drawn back to her. After signaling the bartender for another shot, she leaned on her elbows, pushing her breasts together, showing cleavage so deep, he could die in it. More than one other man in the bar noticed, including the other
“That’s a residential neighborhood,” Cross said. “What was a news crew doing there?”
Allen’s jaw bulged as he filled his cheeks with air, then blew it out fast. “Unexplained fire in an impossible location.”
Beck raised an eyebrow and Allen elaborated.
“There was a man-made pond in the neighborhood. A kid reported a fire on the pond. It’s temporarily being called a chemical fire, but that’s about as likely as a supernatural cause.”
The only creature Beck knew of that could create fire on water was a Ravager, a being made entirely of solar flames. He would rather accept the chemical explanation but the coincidence of a creature resembling a werewolf in its warrior form sighted near a suspicious fire was too great to ignore.
Passing Allen’s phone to Jared, one of the pack’s two scouts, Beck said, “Take a look around the neighborhood and see what you find.”
Shoulders visibly slumping with relief, Allen rubbed his hand across his face. “Thank you. Listen, fires are breaking out across the whole damn continent. Some are a result of those vampire issues in the cities but vampires don’t explain wildfires in swamp land in winter.”
“What’s public opinion? Any other so-called sightings?” Animosity toward shifters--toward non-humans of all stripe--was at an all-time high. The rural areas were filling with people trying to escape the cities. Beck was fine with that--to an extent. He didn’t want to cage humans in with lawless vampires, but he didn’t want people in the forests either.
Werewolves didn’t number the way vampires did, at least not earth-side. The shifters not waging war in the Light Realms could ill-afford to lose lives to human fear, which grew more and more violent every day.
“The usual,” Allen said after a pull from his glass. “Punishments from God. Global warming. Monsters trying to burn the humans out.”
Beck crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels, digesting that. The burnt sugar goodness teased across his nostrils. Pink lips, a rounded cheek, and a dark ponytail caught his eye, quickly vanishing behind the broad shoulders of a biker standing up at the wrong moment. His wolf went on high alert.
An air of unease rolled through the crowd, as if the collective intoxicated brain had suddenly caught wind of something dangerous. Beck looked around but nobody was staring back at him.
Nobody except her , and her blue-gray eyes darted away as soon as their gazes met.
“Impossible,” he murmured, staring at her hourglass silhouette. Impossible, but undeniable. Eight years hadn’t changed anything. She was still all hips, ass and breasts offsetting a narrow waist. Built for claiming. Female fashion was kinder to full-figured women than it had been years ago, and the jeans she wore hugged her body instead of trying to hide it. Beck’s fingers itched. He wanted to wrap them around her waist and pull her close the way he should have done back then.
“What do you want to do about this?” Cross’s question called Beck away from the desire coiling inside him.
Tearing his attention away from the soft woman with overflowing assets, he nodded at Jared. “Get a ride with Allen. Let me know what you find.”
Allen rose from his stool. He threw a roll of cash on the bar. The bills would cover Allen and the Guardians, because that was one of many supporting roles wolf-blooded humans played.
Friends, family, contacts. Eyes and ears and financial support when necessary.
It wasn’t necessary for Allen to bankroll the Guardians but Beck let it happen because it was a point of pride for the investigator whose wife enjoyed a good life on safe, protected Guardian land.
Beck scanned the bar again, once again drawn back to her. After signaling the bartender for another shot, she leaned on her elbows, pushing her breasts together, showing cleavage so deep, he could die in it. More than one other man in the bar noticed, including the other
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