Page 4 of Paw Prints in the Sand (The Northern Shifters #2)

Chapter Four

Las Vegas, NV

V egas is fucking loud. And bright. It’s kind of a nightmare if I’m being honest. Luckily, we’re only here for two nights, and then we’ll start heading towards more remote places for the rest of the trip.Noah threw a spanner in my itinerary by refusing, in his words, 'to drive for twenty-five hours through the middle of fucking nowhere America' in order to get to Vegas. So I caught a flight, and he met me here.

The door handle flashes green when I press the keycard against it. Our hotel room is large; two king-size beds sit a few feet apart, with huge windows looking out onto the strip.

It’s still light out, and the pavements below are filled with people. There are a lot more families here than I expected. In my head, it was very much going to be like the film The Hangover , all gambling and debauchery and fewer dads with toddlers on their shoulders.

Taking a deep breath, I fill my lungs with air-conditioned air and try to tell myself it’s fresh. At least it’s quiet up here.

Once we’ve dumped our stuff, I collapse onto the bed.

“I’m gonna go for a wander, wanna come?” Noah asks.

“Nah, go ahead. I think I’m gonna have a nap.”

I feel almost guilty that I’m flooded with relief once Noah leaves the hotel room. As far as people go, I find him easier to be around than most, but I need time alone more frequently than I realised.

My house was always full growing up. Whether it was Connor, Niamh and their friends, my cousins, or random family and pack members, I can’t remember a single day the house was completely empty. Thankfully, Da seemed to realise I wasn’t built quite like the rest of them in that regard and gave me the attic bedroom. It was the one place Connor and Niamh had to ask my permission to enter and where I was generally left alone.

Stripping down to my boxers, I get comfy on the bed and connect my phone to the hotel WiFi. I ignore the incoming messages from my family and get to business because I’m not sure how long I’ll have before Noah comes back.

I switch to private browsing and search ‘twinks topping’ on my favourite porn site. Scrolling through the search results, I look at the preview thumbnail and go for a video of this cute, small blonde in a neon pink jock who’s sucking off and rimming a huge muscly tanned guy.

I slip my right hand into my boxers and slowly stroke myself until I’m hard. Shuffling, I tug down my underwear; my dick is like a steel rod after not being able to wank off for days, and it slaps against my stomach.

When the twink on my phone screen begins scissoring his fingers inside the other guy’s hole, I let my hand roam lower and rub over my taint. The guy is grunting and moaning as he gets fingered, and a few beads of pre-cum leak from the head of my cock in response.

I skip forward to get to the good bit but then have to re-wind so I can see the moment the twink's cock breaches him. So fucking hot.

I stroke myself harder, my foreskin gliding up and down the head, pre-cum making it slippery.

Putting my phone on the bed next to me to free up my other hand, I suck on one finger and push it inside my hole as I jerk myself off even faster. I try to reach my prostate, but the angle is bad, so I just enjoy the feel of my finger going in and out of my sensitive rim.

When the guy getting railed comes all over the sofa they were fucking on, it only takes a few more strokes until I’m right there with him. Ropes of thick, milky-white cum shoot out of me, landing in the hair dusting my stomach, making me a sticky matted mess. My whole body jerks at the force of my orgasm, and I shudder through my release.

I’m quick to shut off the clip on my phone because nobody needs that still playing after they come. I lie there for a few minutes, enjoying how all my muscles are relaxed. Eventually, I drag myself off the bed for a quick shower because waking up from a nap covered in dry cum is never the one.

Noah’s driving for once since I agreed to spend last night with him at the casinos. Gambling with a witch somewhat ruins the fun of it, but Noah ‘won’ enough money to pretty much pay for the entire rest of this trip, so I can't complain. We left shortly before people began getting suspicious.

I stick my head out of the passenger seat window and enjoy the breeze because despite it now being early October, it’s almost thirty degrees here.

“Do you want to behave any more like a dog?” Noah asks dryly.

“More dog jokes, how original.”

“You’re the one hangin' your head out of the window with your tongue out like a fuckin’ golden retriever.” I huff in response, unable to really think of a clever comeback because I suppose I was kind of doing that.

We continue the drive in comfortable silence. The winding road steers us past vibrant rock faces in various shades of deep reds and oranges, living up to its name, Red Rock Canyon. I’ve never seen anything like it. Pulling into a few of the viewpoint stops, I take some photos to send to Da later, not that my shitty phone camera does them much justice.

Once we’re a few miles into the scenic drive, a sharp left turn brings us to the starting point of the Turtlehead Peak trail.

Noah parks the SUV we hired in a blessedly empty car park; hopefully, that means the trail will be quiet, too. Loaded up with rucksacks filled with water and snacks, we begin the hike to the top of Turtlehead Mountain.

With nothing to hear except for bugs and Noah’s footsteps, I feel like I can finally breathe properly.It’s funny how quickly fresh air and quiet open spaces can clear your head of the usual noise that tends to circle the drain in your mind.

The trail isn’t challenging, but it’s enjoyable all the same. There’s something about looking out across a huge expanse of desert that reminds you of how insignificant you are.

I was nine years old when I had my first shift. And it was only a matter of days after that before I was informed that I was the Alpha heir everyone had been hoping for, that I’d become the leader of our pack once my da stepped down one day.

I remember people congratulating my parents like my genetic predisposition to lead a pack was anything other than sheer dumb luck. Luck for them, anyway. I didn’t feel very lucky.

I’d run through the woods with my pack and have all their excited thoughts shoved down our bonds and into my head. And while they revelled in the novelty of shifting finally and the freedom it brought them, it felt like leg irons to me, shackling me to a future I felt woefully unprepared for.

Over time, my status as future Alpha seemed to create a chasm between me and my peers. All of them painfully aware that I’d be their leader one day, and eventually, I had no choice but to accept it.

Glancing over my shoulder, Noah is only a few feet behind me, kicking up dust from the ground with every step. Noah has been a lifeline to me in a lot of ways. He’s one of the few people with whom there’s never any pretence. Sarcastic, arrogant and closed off, though he is, he’s my best friend. With no intention to ever become our pack witch—or any pack witch, for that matter—we’ve always been able to remain equals.

We’re both sweating from the dry morning heat when we reach the top. The view steals the breath from my lungs. With not even a whisp of cloud in the sky, you can see for miles—mountain ranges and rock formations the colours of a winter sunset.

Noah wanders off to take some photos, and I perch on a large rock, retrieving a bottle of water and Mum’s diary from my rucksack.

Dear Sean

I decided to write this one to you instead of me. I’ll show you this when I get home. I suppose home will be somewhere different soon?

I’m writing this at the top of Turtlehead Mountain in Red Rock Canyon, Nevada. We waited until early evening to do this so we could watch the sunset at the top. The way the last rays of the day bounce off the burnt orange rocks makes it look like they’re glowing. I wish you could see this. I’ve taken a photograph, but I’m scared to use up all of my film before the end of the trip, so fingers crossed it’s a good one. If it’s not, I guess we’ll just have to come here together one day?

I’m feeling homesick this week. And I’m feeling scared. It’s like I'm on this giant precipice, like in a year’s time, my life will be unrecognisable from what it is now.

I set myself a challenge to do something that scares me in every state we visit. I think I’m just preparing myself for my scariest and biggest adventure still to come—diving off the deep end with you.

This trip is amazing, but I can’t deny missing you something awful. I wish I could call and hear your voice; you’d tell me to stop being silly and make the most of my travels.

I thought I was homesick for Ireland, but I think I could be anywhere in the world, and a hug from you would make it disappear.

I love you,

Your Cara x

When Da gave me this diary, and I’d finished reading it, I asked him if he wanted me to tear this entry out for him to keep. His eyes filled with unshed tears when he told me he could recite every word. He said when she first got back and showed it to him, he asked her to read it aloud. He said sometimes he still falls asleep replaying the moment, her voice as clear as day in his dreams.

I quickly wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. A swell of anger hits me at how unjust it is that she’s gone, swiftly washed away by the wave of grief that always follows, stealing the air from my lungs.

Noah returns from where he’d wandered off to and silently squeezes the back of my neck. When I get my shit back together and stand up, he presses a small vial into my hand.

“What’s this?” I ask, eyeing the little glass tube, which appears to be filled with… orange dirt?

“A bit of crumbled rock from the path.”

“Why do I have it in a tiny jar?”

Noah shuffles his feet and looks from side to side as though he’s suddenly embarrassed.“I just thought… you could keep it. A moment you got to share with your mum that doesn’t belong to anyone else.”

I eye the contents again and have to take a deep breath to stave off the tears now threatening to return.

“I’m gonna give you a hug now,” I warn him.

“Ugh. Make it quick.” Noah has never been one for much physical affection, and I’ve had to learn to keep my wolf impulses to myself around him. However, on occasion, he’ll accept a hug as long as it’s kept brief.

I squeeze him tightly in my arms, whispering, “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah, now get off me, you big oaf; I can’t breathe,” he gasps dramatically. I chuckle and slap him on the back twice before letting go.

“Really though, Thank you.”

“Can you stop bein’ so sincere? It’s makin’ me feel unwell.”

Laughing, I mime zipping my lips shut before we make our way back down the trail.