The Change (Shifting Passions - Volume 2): Shifting Passions, #2

By Ana Vela

Eva’s got a problem. She’s smart, beautiful, and a werewolf shapeshifter…but she’s fallen for a regular, normal human. And to make matters worse, her brother is the Alpha of the pack and will definitely not approve.

After a wonderful night with Nathan, Eva finds that he knows more about her than she thought. Confronted with his intimate knowledge of her werewolf nature, she has to make a choice; show him more, and help him understand, or push him away forever?

Which will she choose…?

Note: Parts of Shifting Passions were previously published as Eva’s Secret.

Also includes Sneak Peeks at some upcoming novels!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roja Publishing
• Release date: Nov 5, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533757630

Book preview

~Volume Two – The Change~

Eva’s got a problem. She’s smart, beautiful, and a werewolf shapeshifter...but she’s fallen for a regular, normal human. And to make matters worse, her brother is the Alpha of the pack and will definitely not approve.

After a wonderful night with Nathan, Eva finds that he knows more about her than she thought. Confronted with his intimate knowledge of her werewolf nature, she has to make a choice; show him more, and help him understand, or push him away forever?

Which will she choose...?

––––––––

Note: Parts of Shifting Passions were previously published as Eva’s Secret.

Also includes Sneak Peeks at some upcoming novels!

~Volume Two – The Change~

Nathan slept like a child, sprawled across my bed without a care in the world. I sat in a chair across from him, naked as a jaybird. I watched him sleep and wished for a cigarette. It had been three years since I quit and the cravings had mostly stopped. I didn’t want to smoke when I walked into a bar, or when I drove, or after a meal.

No, when I wanted a cigarette was when I needed to think. And I needed to think now. After the sex, Nathan had poured out his whole story to me; a story that started to sound shockingly familiar as it went on. His little brother, Ben, who he loved more than anything, had just dropped a bomb on his family with the small revelation that he turned furry once a month. Yes, his little brother was like me – a werewolf.

Who comes home and tells their mother and father that? Nathan had said, with a thick disgust in his voice that made me want to both cringe away and punch him. Because, of course, I had told my family the exact same thing. Almost a decade ago. I didn’t have anyone to show me the ropes, to tell me that I wasn’t a monster. Weres didn’t go public until about five years after that, and my older brother didn’t admit that he, too, was a werewolf until he was challenged by my pack’s Alpha, defeated him, and took over. My mother hadn’t spoken to me since then. She could handle that I was a furry nightmare, but the fact that I’d taken her first-born son from her, that was something for which she’d never forgive me.

We’d changed how the pack was run, my brother Michael and I. We’d made sure that those who came into the pack young, like we had, weren’t bullied and hazed. We’d made sure that we were a family for them since, for most of us, our blood families chose to leave us behind. So today, I’d held a young man as he’d cried, sure his much-adored older brother was going to disown him. I hadn’t seen the family resemblance until Nathan mentioned his baby brother’s name, but then it quickly became painfully clear. And that very man had just had his tongue, fingers, and his cock inside of me, by turns. He’d made me come hard enough that it hurt so good, and part of me very much wanted him to do it again, even if he was a fucking bigot. So yeah, I wanted the air blue with smoke. The pen I was dangling from my fingers just made the craving worse.

Nathan stirred like my thoughts had woken him; he rolled over, his eyes still closed, and stroked his hand over the spot on the mattress where I’d been. He only opened his eyes when his sleepy brain realized that I was gone. I thought for a second about staying where I was, letting him see me sitting here, cold and remote, but that wouldn’t help me, and it wouldn’t help Ben. It wouldn’t help any of us. Part of what sucked about being a high profile member of the pack was that sometimes I had to consider public relations when I made a decision. I could see the headlines and they weren’t pretty.

So as he opened his eyes, I was sliding back under the covers, a sleepy smile on my face. Hey, there, I said. Sleep okay?

He nodded, watching me. I didn’t mean to fall asleep at all. I’m sorry for passing out like that. I meant to... His eyes wavered.

To fuck me and go?

Well. That was sharper than I’d meant. He winced, and I traced my hand over his chest to soften it a bit.

Pardon, he said, careful and slow. I thought that was our arrangement.

I took a deep, slow breath, and tried to get my inner bitch—as it were—under control. It was. I’m sorry. There’s ... you said a few things, last night, and ... you should know ...

You’re one of them. His tone was level, calm. Not scared. Not upset. A werewolf.

I tried not to stare. You knew? Even given everything you said last night, you knew that about me?

He shrugged. Well, I picked you up in a werewolf bar. I wasn’t sure, but I figured that the odds were pretty good.

You knew—hold on, you picked me up? I sat up, holding the blankets over my naked breasts, and faced him. That isn’t how I remember it.

He didn’t roll his eyes, but from the way his nostrils flared, it was a near thing.

Is this really what you want to talk about right now? He sat up, too, facing me. Yes, we both had certain expectations. I needed to make sure that my little brother had fallen in with decent people. You were—doing whatever it is that you were doing. But it seems like something else happened last night, like we found some other connection. I think maybe it’s worth exploring some. If that’s something you’re interested in.

He clamped his lips shut, like that was quite a speech for him, and waited.

I hesitated for a moment, and it was a moment too long. He nodded briskly, and started to move out of the bed; I had to reach for his hand, catching it in both of mine. He tried to pull it away, and I had to exert my strength to keep hold. He didn’t really look at me, but he stopped pulling.

I don’t know what I’m interested in. I lead a ... busy life. But you’re right. You intrigued me. We had fun. We could have more fun. If you wanted.

He studied my hands, wrapped around his, for a long moment, and then smiled. He slid back into the bed and stretched out beside me, his hands behind his head.

Convince me.

His smile was saucy, but also nervous, like he wasn’t entirely sure I’d take him up on his offer. It was that earnest unease that settled me. I could do some good here. Not just for me, but for Ben, too. And that was worth it. Plus, we’d had fun before. So I moved up onto my knees and eased my way down his chest, trailing kisses slowly down his solid frame. He hadn’t bothered to put shorts back on at any point, so I had full access.

Things had happened so quickly before that I hadn’t had a chance to really appreciate his impressive tool. Now, with the early morning light filling the room, I pressed soft kisses over his thick flesh, nestled in blond curls. He wasn’t hard yet, but that was changing as he started to twitch under me. I wrapped my mouth around him and heard him groan. He grew so fast in my mouth that I hardly had a chance to enjoy him, limp and delicate. He was steel and spice in moments, and I slid my tongue over him, nipping the head of his cock just gently enough to see what he would do.

He arched into my mouth, and I rode with him, moving so that he wouldn’t hit the back of my throat and gag me. He wasn’t incredibly long, but he was thick enough that I had to focus on relaxing my mouth, opening up for him. I stroked up and down his length a handful of times, wrapping my hand around his base and meeting my hand and mouth in the midst of him. His hips moved with me, matching the rhythm I created, and I could taste him on my tongue, eager and delicious.

But I didn’t want him to come like this, not yet. I slipped up and straddled his hips, his cock so close to being buried in me. He paused and reached into that bedside drawer, taking care of the foil packet himself this time, and then bringing me back to the place I had been. He tried to shift his hips, to bury himself in me, but I moved away from him.

I thought you needed convincing.

Consider me convinced, he said, his words breathy and soft.

His hands were on my hips, trying to hold me in place so that he could pierce me, but it was like wishing at the tides. I could overpower him with my little pinky, and he couldn’t hold me.

Tell me what convinced you.

I hovered over him, and then twitched down enough that he slid a bare inch inside of me.

His eyes rolled back into his head, his lip caught between his teeth.

Oh, god, he murmured.

Tell me, or I’ll stop.

Stop teasing?

He had a wicked gleam in his eye, and for one moment, I slipped him all the way in, buried to the end of me, and then, before he could entirely enjoy it, backed off again, teasing him at the bare beginnings of me. I didn’t want to stop; that one slide brought shivers through me, starting at the hub of my body, stretched now to accommodate him, flaring up through my low belly and my spine, spinning up to my nipples, which tightened at the peaks of my breasts. I wanted to ride him, hard and fast and deep, moving him over my deep warmth, letting him see me arch and gasp. I loved my positioning here; he could see me move, admire my breasts and my smooth stomach, and I could see him do it.

No, I said. Stop entirely.

Your mouth, he said, without hesitation. God, your tongue. Amazing. I don’t know how you do that. No one’s ever done that. The teeth, just enough. Your hand, perfect.

I ached so much. I needed to be filled with him. I slid down onto him, and his hands clenched around my hips, pulling me into a rhythm that was faster than I might have chosen on my own. I pushed his hands off me, caught his wrists, and forced his arms up over his head. His eyes flared open, and I watched him for a long moment as I ground my hips against his.

This okay? I asked, slowing down the pace, feeling his hips tremble below me as he tried to match me, and not fight back.

Yes, he whispered, reverence and need warring in his tone.

My breasts were in his face as I moved up and down his length. The shivers of heat picked up their pace, lasting longer with each thrust, and the noises coming from my throat got deeper, louder. He matched me groan for groan, meeting me at the peak of each motion, driving as deep and as hard as he could from his position. He couldn’t move his hands. They might as well have been held in place with iron manacles. He could move his mouth, though, and he did, lifting his head off the pillow to catch my nipple in his teeth, suckling viciously. Stars exploded in my eyes and I cried out, driving myself down onto him and feeling my hips move in short, circling little thrusts as I came, burst after shocking burst, and when I thought I was done, he moved to the other side, taking that nipple so gently after his previous viciousness, and I came again, harder and even more thoroughly than before. I screamed, trying to contain the sound, but if I did, I’d explode, burst into particles of light and shower down over the room like falling stars. My back arched with the force of the orgasm, and when it passed through me, I collapsed against his shoulder. He tugged against my hands, and I let him go. He sank his fingers into my ass and fucked me, hard and fast, coming in just a few short strokes, groaning into my ear as he released, and I tried to catch my breath.

Afterwards, we rested like that, my head nestled on his shoulder, his cock slowly melting inside of me, slipping out to make a mess on the sheets. He stroked his hands down my spine, splaying softly over my ass, then up again. If I were ticklish, it would have been a nightmare. Thankfully I wasn’t, and so, it wasn’t.

Tomorrow’s the full moon, he said, apropos of nothing in particular.

It is. I tried to keep my voice neutral, calm, even.

Is it true that you only change the night the moon is completely full?

This wasn’t a conversation to have like this, all sprawled and sweaty. I slid to the side so I could prop myself up on my elbow.

The night the moon is full, we will change, whether we want to or not. The nights before and after—it’s not forced upon us, but it’s not ... comfortable if we don’t.

But you don’t have to?

Are you worried about your brother?

He shrugged, liquid and sad.

Wouldn’t you be?

I bit off a snarky reply.

We take care of each other. We’ll take care of him.

Why can’t I take care of him?

It was the petulant cry of a child, and I knew in that moment that he’d been taking care of his brother for a very long time, and that even if he’d wanted to stop sometimes, even if it had been way too much work, he’d done it anyway, and he’d been proud that he was doing it.

Resisting the change—it isn’t pretty, Nathan. It’s not something that is a light undertaking. Most of us have plans in place in case we can’t get somewhere safe, but it’s painful, and it’s something that takes years of practice, discipline, meditation. And even then, why bother? The next night, we can’t resist the lunar pull, no matter what we do, so what’s the difference?

He didn’t comment. His face was closed, convinced, I thought, that I was feeding him a line to keep him distracted, to force him into supporting his little brother and the new life that he was trying to build.

Come with me, I said. Tonight. What the hell was I doing?

What do you mean?

Come to my house tonight. You can stay with me. See that I’m not exaggerating.

I don’t think you’re exaggerating, he said, but his eyes darted up and away as he lied.

Then we’ll spend a fun night together. No harm, no foul.

And what if you change? Accidentally?

It would be rude to laugh. I reminded myself of that quite sternly.

I don’t change accidentally any more. I can control this. It’s just—not very fun.

There was a long pause that lasted years and centuries. Empires rose and fell in that pause.

Okay.

Yeah?

Yes.

There was a flight of butterflies taking wing in my stomach.

Okay, then. I’ll give you my address.

He looked around at the sparsely decorated room, and then raised an eyebrow.

Don’t you live here?

No, I said, feeling my cheeks burn red, even as I reminded myself that it was my life, my body, and I was a grown woman who was free to do what she wanted to do. This is a place I keep, close to downtown.

For human company, he said, too matter-of-factly.

He smoothed the sheets softly, near him. He was deeply offended. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

Or to give some of our new pack a place to stay, when their family throws them out, or if they feel they’re in danger for some reason. There’s more to it than you’re thinking.

Okay, he said, arms up in defeat. I’m not trying to start a fight.

I wasn’t entirely sure about that. Not entirely.

***

My house was on the other side of town. From the outside, it looked like every other house on the block. An old Colonial, painted white, with neutral and tasteful shutters. The front door was painted a dark, forest green. The rooms were tastefully decorated, straight out of Better Homes & Gardens. Everything about the first and second floors of my house was normal.

The basement, however, was a completely different story. It had a basic rec area and tool/work area, and some storage shelves against the north wall. In the dead center of the room, wrapping around the back of the stairway, was a room. Most people wouldn’t notice it. It was small and hard to see unless you were very good at space and perception. The door was hidden behind shelves, and reinforced. There were no windows. It didn’t appear on the official permit or plans of the house. It wasn’t a cage; only monsters belonged behind bars. But it was a room that even I wouldn’t be able to escape. Not without thumbs, anyway. It was a room that would keep other people safe from me if necessary.

I’d talked a good game with Nathan tonight, but in reality, it had been about five years since I’d fought the change. It wasn’t necessary any more. Werewolf rights were on the horizon, and we were in a pretty accepting area. Vermonters tended to go with the flow, as it were; as long as it wasn’t happening in their bedrooms, they didn’t mind. And my brother was something of a local hero. He’d worked hard to sell the pack as the answer to a problem of violence in the community and unsafe streets at night, rather than a new problem on its own. It was a better world with us here.

I wanted to be out with them. I wanted to be brushing my shoulders against my family, smelling the sweet pine scent of the woods as we ran, as we played and hunted and slept, curled up against one another. I didn’t want to be stuck inside, hiding from the moon, with a bigoted guy who didn’t believe that this was going to hurt like hell.

But I was doing something for more than just me here. It wasn’t always just about me. Much to my chagrin.

He rang the doorbell well before full dark. My skin was itching with the moon, already up in the late summer sky. I wanted to be down in the basement, where the pull would be less. I was wearing old jeans and a tank top - easy to toss if they got shredded. My hair was up in a ponytail, where I hoped it’d stay out of my way. I’d washed my makeup and napped. I wouldn’t get any sleep tonight.

I opened the door for him, and saw that he’d matched me for style. Old worn jeans, an old t-shirt for some band I didn’t know. I smiled, but a surge of light came when I opened the door, and I had to close my eyes and struggle against the urge to howl. I pulled back, and he followed me in, his face already shadowed with concern.

Are you okay?

I’m okay but, as I told you, I don’t really like doing this, I said.

He was inside; that was as far as I needed to go right now. I pushed myself away from the wall—when had I fallen into it?—and headed for the basement. I heard him close the door, pause, and then shoot the bolt. Interesting. He followed me downstairs, his footsteps so loud on the stairs that they made my head throb. I retreated to my small safe room, and put my back into a corner. I tried to sit calm and peaceful, but there was no chance of that, not right now. My knees were up to my chest, and I rested my forehead on my knees. I managed to take long, slow breaths, but that was the most I had in me. I’d designed this room to have as much material as possible between myself and the moonlight, to minimize the pull, but nothing would stop it completely. I always knew where the moon was, exactly what phase it was, when it had risen and when it had set, the way iron knows when a