Page 11 of Alpha Varsity (Wolf Ridge High #5)

Chapter Eleven

L otta

I sit on Dr. Oakley’s examination table and scroll through Instagram. I haven’t posted a new painting in a month, but my channel is full of wolf paintings. If the pack knew I was putting these up for the world to see, Alpha Green and the other elders would freak. Our species is careful about hiding our secret. Understandably.

The U.S. Government knows we exist–just like they know alien life exists and has visited Earth. Some say they keep a record of packs and their members in America. I don’t know whether that’s true. I do know there have been shifters who have been snatched and subjected to grievous testing, and government-funded experimentation. I’ve also heard there are special ops teams in the U.S. military that consist entirely of shifters. Kind of like Navy SEALs 2.0.

Regardless, one of the primary pack rules is to hide our existence from other humans. So me posting canvas after canvas of the larger-than-life-sized wolves I paint would be frowned on. Especially the ones that show an overlay of a human on the wolf. The meaning might be too obvious, even to a human.

My favorite art professor, Ann Sweetling, thought I was depicting a person’s inner wolf spirit or animal spirit guide. That’s the angle I play up on my Instagram page, and I’ve sold a number of the paintings. I guess a lot of those woo-woo people out there think they have a wolf animal spirit.

If only they knew what it’s like to actually be run by your wolf.

Just thinking of my other side makes me break out in a sweat.

A light tap sounds on the door, and Dr. Oakley and his female assistant, Melinda, enter.

“Carlotta,” Dr. Oakley says warmly. “I’d heard you were back. It’s good to see you.” He takes a quick sweep of my body before meeting my eyes. “You’re looking…are you feeling all right?”

I glance at Melinda. Her daughter is a friend of mine–we graduated from Wolf Ridge the same year. The trouble with small towns is that your business becomes everyone’s business in about four hours.

“Melinda is here so you feel comfortable with any examination I conduct, and by law, everything we discuss in this room is confidential. You’re an adult, which means we can’t discuss anything with your parents or anyone else without your consent.”

I nod and draw a breath. “To be honest, the full moon kicked my butt. I hadn’t shifted since I left for college, and this feels like a second puberty or transition.”

“Check her blood pressure,” he directs Melinda, who jumps into action.

“You suppressed your wolf the entire time you were away?” To his credit, he covers his surprise fairly quickly .

“Yes.”

“Did that cause any adverse symptoms?”

“Loss of appetite and energy. Some hair loss. Low-level depression. But after about nine months, I got used to it.”

“Nine months is a long time to be feeling unwell. That must’ve been hard on you.”

It’s been so long, but his sympathy brings back that intense loneliness I suffered. The grief over my parents’ abandonment was made even harder by the grief from my wolf.

Melinda reads off my blood pressure, but the numbers mean nothing to me. Shifters don’t need doctors except for birth control or massive trauma. The last time I saw Dr. Oakley was as a freshman in high school to get on birth control for the full moon runs.

Same reason I’m back now.

“I had to do it. I wanted to pursue an education in art, and the best school was in Chicago. It was the only way I could cope with living amongst humans.”

Dr. Oakley raises a brow as if to say he disagrees with my reasoning, but he doesn’t argue. I supposed he lived amongst humans for years getting his medical degree, too.

He brings the stethoscope to my chest and listens. “So you shifted for the first time again–when? With the full moon?”

“Yes, sir.”

He waves a hand. “You don’t need to call me sir . When you’re in this office there’s no pack hierarchy or tradition.”

I lower my gaze, just the same. I may be an adult, but respect for elders has been thoroughly bred into me. “Thank you.”

“And now you’re experiencing hot flashes? Extreme hunger? Low blood sugar?”

“Yes.” I swallow and nod. I leave out the part about Asher. About my desperation to feel him inside me, riding me hard. My intense need to crawl all over that muscled body of his. To have him master me with dirty-talk and rough handling.

“Well, I expect it will be just like the onset of your wolf again. I don’t think it will last as long as puberty. I would think since you’ve been through it before, and you know how to shift between forms and how much food and exercise your wolf requires, you should adjust in a matter of a few months.”

“Months?”

He shrugs. “Two to three would be my guess, but it’s only a guess. You’re thin, Carlotta. I would say get as much protein and fat into your body as you can to help stabilize the return of the hormones.”

“Okay.”

“Anything else?”

“I need to get back on birth control.”

“Okay.” He glances at my chart. “It looks like we stopped mailing your formulation to you six months ago.”

Dr. Oakley works with a compounding pharmacist to make special formulations that will work with shifter hormones.

The only reason I stopped taking it was to keep myself from having gratuitous sex with my self-absorbed roommate, Andy. He was good-looking and available but completely conceited and empty in the brain department. I knew the roommates with benefits thing was a bad idea, but I indulged.

Obviously, I was using him. When I started feeling used back, I realized the relationship wasn’t healthy for either of us, and I cut off the sex. To keep myself from the temptation of returning, I went off the pill.

“Do you need a post-full moon shot?”

This is Dr. Oakley’s bread and butter, if I had to guess. Except I don’t know if he even charges anyone for it. His primary contribution to the pack is keeping teen wolves from getting pregnant during full moon runs.

It’s hard enough to keep your wolf under control, but when you’re a new shifter and the moon is full, nature takes over.

The post full moon shot is like the morning-after pill for humans.

“Yes, please.”

Dr. Oakley nods at Melinda, who is already pulling out a syringe and alcohol swab. She rips open the swab packet and paints it on my shoulder.

“This may help stabilize your hormones,” Dr. Oakley says. “Or it could make it temporarily worse.” He takes the needle from Melinda and jabs me. “Hard to say.” He pulls the needle out and disposes of it.

I’m sweating and hot. Itchy like I need to shift and run.

“I suggest you get plenty of rest and increase your caloric intake.”

“Got it.” I hop off the table, eager to get out of there.

“And Carlotta” –he turns at the door to give me a smile– “Welcome home.”

My stomach tightens up into a fist as I force a smile. “Thanks, but I don’t intend to stay.”

His brows shoot up. “No?”

“Wolf Ridge isn’t my home anymore.”

Asher

There are at least ten things I should be doing tonight that don’t involve stalking Lotta. I have a fuck-ton of homework to make up from the days I was suspended. My mom asked me to replace the broken screen protector on her phone. Seb offered to help me with the math test I need to retake.

Instead, I’m creeping up on Lotta’s back porch, dying for the hit of her jasmine and honey scent.

I already fucked her today. I shouldn’t need more.

She shouldn’t need more.

But what if she does? My wolf murmurs in my head.

She was tortured when I came into her class today. I did that to her. By denying us both last night, I caused her obvious harm. Pain, even.

That knowledge is a torture in itself. It makes me itchy. Uneasy. I wouldn’t call it guilt. More like the physiological version of guilt. My body regrets and mourns any pain I caused her beautiful body.

And that must be the reason I’m looking in her dark windows and trying her locked door right now.

The lights are off in her place. It’s not that late, but maybe she was exhausted from whatever physical ordeal she went through today. More unease creeps through me.

I tap lightly on the door. I don’t hear anything from inside. That’s when I spot one of her flip flops in the brush.

My wolf roars to the surface. I nearly shift with the idea that she’s in danger. But that’s dumb. There’s no reason to assume that. Fuck. I can’t stop the roar of energy holding through my body. The need to find her.

I snatch up the shoe and scan the surroundings. The other shoe is farther down the wash. And then–oh fuck! Her shorts are caught on a small palo verde. There’s her shirt.

I strip out of my clothes on the spot and shift, following her scent trail up the mountain. I race up the hillside. My mate shifted in a hurry. Like something was chasing her. Like something was wrong. I don’t smell any other fresh scent near hers, though.

Something’s wrong with her wolf, then.

That’s why she was so off today.

Maybe it had nothing to do with me. No–it was about me. I’m the one who fixed it for her. Her body craved mine the same way mine craves hers. She needed me to fuck her hard to straighten her out.

I continue my hunt, climbing steadily in elevation. She must’ve had a good head start on me because it takes me a long time to catch up, and I’m running fast. My wolf is far more powerful and strong than hers.

Finally I see her under the waning moon. The slender white wolf leans against a boulder, sides heaving like she’s exhausted.

Mine , my wolf snarls.

I let myself have her. Again.

I shift and stride toward her. My dick is harder than steel, pointing in the direction of its desire.

“Shift,” I command.

She’s powerless against me. She instantly transforms, rising to two shaky legs, green eyes changing back to cornflower blue. Her long dark waves fall across one shoulder, sliding against her pert breast.

I pick her up by the waist. A cry comes from her lips, but it’s not a protest. It sounds needier than that. I climb a few steps up to the top of the boulder, where I gently lie her back on the flat surface. Her skin glows under the moonlight, giving her an ethereal quality. Like she’s the moon goddess herself, come down to Earth to experience carnal pleasure.

I kneel and slide my hands behind her knees to push them up, spreading her wide. Her belly shudders in and out as I lower my head.

I hold her gaze for a moment, a silent question of consent.

“ Yes .” Her answer is impatient. She understands the question.

My thumbs tighten around her legs reflexively. My dick throbs. I won’t be able to stop myself from fucking her. I can try to delay it, though. Try to keep my head.

I part her folds with my tongue, delving between those sweet peach halves. She tastes like sunshine. Like honey. Maybe I will be able to hold back after all. Right now, I’m pretty sure I could spend the next five hours tasting her.

She moans. Her knees press inward, powerful, her powerful inner thighs fighting my grip. Her hips roll up to meet me. The sound she makes as I trace inside her lips is a guttural Ahhh.

I love you.

That’s the thought that pops in my head, which is an utter lie.

I don’t love her. I hate her.

Yet, my wolf is singing this serenade to her in my head. Beautiful, beautiful female. I adore you. I have always adored you. You are the light of the moon. You are the song on the wind. You are the catch in my throat.

I work her clit with the level of reverence my wolf feels for this female. I praise her with the tip of my tongue. I lave her. I stroke and soothe and aim to stupify her with the prowess of my mouth’s devotion .

Her legs tremble and shake around my shoulders. Her fingers thread into my hair and pull. The ahhh sounds spill from her lips in a continuous articulation of joy.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” I lift my head and shift my hands to slide two fingers inside her. I don’t mean to sweet talk her–the words tumbled out of my mouth. I guess they are a truthful expression of the moment.

I thrust in and slide my fingers along her inner wall, seeking that secret location. The bundle of nerves that collect around the G-spot.

Lotta arches when I find it, a cry issuing from her throat. Fluid gushes around my fingers in the most glorious female ejaculation I’ve ever had the honor of witnessing. Her muscles pulse around my fingers with her orgasm, a spasmodic dance of victory.

I keep my fingers inside her and lower my face once more, adding my tongue to the mix. She contracts around my fingers, lifting her hips from the boulder, her legs looping over my shoulders.

“Tastes like heaven,” I murmur. I let my fingers slip out, and she sighs as they leave.

“More,” she pants.

Of course, she wants more. I mean, thank fuck because I definitely want more. But it’s like we can’t get enough of each other.

Maybe that’s the denial of a claiming bite–I don’t know. All I’m sure of is that I will combust soon if I don’t get inside her again.

It’s rough out here, though. I don’t want to pound into her against rocks.

“Come here.” I grasp her hand and pull her to her feet. Once she’s up, I catch her waist and carry her off the boulder, back to solid ground. “Hands on the rock.” I fold her in half, pulling back on her hips, so her hands fall to the boulder. “Stick that pretty ass out for me.”

I give her ass a firm smack.

She moans.

I spank her some more. I remember how much she likes it. It’s a shame there’s not enough moonlight to watch my handprints bloom on that soft skin of hers.

Punishing her gets me way too excited. Pre-cum drips from the tip of my cock. If I don’t get inside her soon, I fear I will lose control and mark her right here.

And I definitely have no plans to mark this female.

I grab her ass cheeks and spread her wide to bring my cock to her entrance. It doesn’t even require my guidance to get in. One snap of my hips, and I’ve penetrated those plump folds. I press in deeper, going slowly until I reach the hilt. She moans her content, but I stay there, torturing both of us with my restraint.

She pushes back against me to take me deeper. She’s so wet. My cock slides through her juices to delicious perfection.

I start a slow rhythm–short bumps against her ass. I still have her cheeks spread wide, so she gets the contact of my loins against her anus.

Her cry is surprised and frantic, as if she’s already nearing a second climax just from me being inside her.

I can relate. I don’t know how long I’ll last before I have to pull out and come all over her ass.

I take longer, slower, strokes, building the tension for both of us.

“Asher,” Lotta gasps. “I need…”

I pull out and wrap an arm under her torso, squeezing one breast roughly as I deliver a flurry of hard spanks to her upturned ass. “I know what you need,” I growl. I spank her even harder, catching the backs of her legs where ass meets thigh. “I fucking know what you need. I’m your goddamn mate.”

“I know, I know,” she pants. “Please.” I love that she’s begging now. “Give it to me. Please Asher. I need it.”

My cock is so hard it feels like it will burst. My sanity is slipping.

“Okay, baby. Hands on the ground. Fold all the way over, now.” I pull her hips back and make her take a step away from the boulder, so there’s room for her hands to drop to the foot of the rock.

Her legs are shaking hard, but I kick them wider and hold her steady to position her in a downward dog pike position. When I enter her from this angle, I get in deep.

She shrieks her pleasure. “Yes!”

“I know.” I grip her hips and bang her hard.

She bends her knees to brace against my thrusts, arching back, driving into me as I drive into her.

“Uhn. You feel so good,” I groan. I slap my hips against hers, loving the sound of flesh colliding with flesh. Loving the sight of this slip of a female arched to receive me. “I just can’t with this ass.” I slide my thumbs around to tug her asscheeks open again.

She cries out at the sensation. “Asher! Oh, Fate. Please! Please!”

I want to come inside her so badly, but, of course, it’s out of the question. I squeeze my eyes closed and meter breath through my nostrils to hold off. A little longer. I don’t want it to end.

Somehow my brain cobbles together a plan for us to orgasm together. I pull out of her and shove three fingers into her sopping channel, pressing her anus with my thumb. She climaxes hard around my fingers at the same time I fist my cock with the other hand and coat her beautiful ass with cum.

We both vocalize our release, our voices an offering up to the wind. To the silver moon. To the mountain.

I coax out another release and then another from each of us, waiting until the last one dies, and then shifting the position of my fingers to trigger the next.

When at last it seems we’ve both wrung out every last drop of ecstasy, I slide my fingers out of my beautiful mate and help her to stand. Her legs don’t hold her, though. She looks up at me, her eyelids flutter, and then she collapses against my body in a dead slump.