wolf

She was a wolf. She was death, devourer of the worlds.

Jules was a proud little toy. She decided that she was going to work very hard to be the best wolf she could be.

Cerise! Come and kiss me, you red haired harpy,_ Izrayl bellowed. She smiled and moved to kiss his stubbly cheek. He held her tight and squeezed. __ow goes it Old Dog,_ Cerise said fondly to her temporary captor.__till alive,_ he grinned salaciously at her. __nd still young enough to learn some new tricks if you are the one doing the teaching.___ry it and I will neuter you,_ Cerise threatened and tugged on his braid. __ou dogs, all you think of is hunting, fighting and fucking.___hat else is there?_ Izrayl growled in the back of his throat and raised an eyebrow at her suggestively.

As he had kissed her neck, she could not repress the feeling she was a lamb making time with a wolf.

His eyes are so beautiful and dark and they do look like that dog____ mean, that wolf__. They are kind and strong and a little bit something else and I like them. I like them a lot. No, I like them way too much. Something inside me gets a little warmer, edges closer to him.The fire crackles and I jump again, jittery, nervous, but I don__ jump away from Nick. I jump toward him. Nick in the firelight with just a blanket on is a little hard to resist, no matter how crazy he might be. His skin, deep with heat, seems to glisten. His muscles are defined and good but not all steroid bulky. He is so perfect. And beautiful. In a boy way. Not a monster way. Not a wolf way.__re you going to kiss me?_ My words tremble into the air.He smiles but doesn__ answer.____e never kissed a werewolf before. Are were kisses like pixie kisses? Do they do something to you? Is that why you never kissed anybody?__e gives a little smile. __o. It__ just I never kissed anyone because I never thought I could be honest about who I am, you know? And I didn__ want anyone to get attached to me because . . .___ecause you__e a werewolf.___ecause I__ a werewolf,_ he repeats softly. Watching his lips move makes me shiver; not in a scared way, in more of an oh-he-is-too-beautiful way.I put my hand against his skin. It is warm. It__ always been warm. He smells so good, like woods and safety. I swallow my fear and move forward, and my lips meet his, angel-light, a tiny promise. His lips move beneath mine. His hands move to my shoulders and my mouth feels like it will burst with happiness. My whole body shakes with it.__ow,_ I say.__eah,_ he says. __ow.__ur mouths meet again. It__ like my lips belong there . . . right there. One tiny part of me has finally found a place to fit.

I settled on the floor and whispered to Sam, __ want you to listen to me, if you can._ I leaned the side of my face against his ruff and remembered the golden wood he had shown me so long ago. I remembered the way the yellow leaves, the color of Sam__ eyes, fluttered and twisted, crashing butterflies, on their way to the ground. The slender white trunks of the birches, creamy and smooth as human skin. I remembered Sam standing in the middle of the wood, his arms stretched out, a dark, solid form in the dream of the trees. His coming to me, me punching his chest, the soft kiss. I remembered every kiss we__ ever had, and I remembered every time I__ curled in his human arms. I remembered the soft warmth of his breath on the back of my neck while we slept.I remembered Sam.

She finally understood why the monsters in the Forest always seemed to smile. Beasts only bared their teeth as a warning before they attack.

Being a lone wolf is sometimes better than being in a pack.

Sometimes destiny switches the cards on you so that while you're busy escaping from the dog, you find yourself facing the wolf

As he prepared to ride on, he chuckled at the thought of the wolf entering the sheepfold. He would not ride with fire and destruction. The shepherd did not frighten his own pretty lambs.

He gave each wolf its own name, and he told me that they were crossing the Moon River, a place that he said, __s where all wolves go when they die.

The tears were there, waiting to make their escape. But she wouldn__ let them. Not this time. She couldn__. Because if there was one thing she had to do now, it was be strong and brave. She just had to be strong and brave for one week. That was no time at_all. And when the week was over and Milo had found his true_mate, she would disappear.

Cole,_ I said, __o you think I__ lovable?___s in __uddly and_?___s in __ble to be loved,__ I said.Cole__ gaze was unwavering. Just for a moment, I had the strange idea that I could see exactly what he had looked like when he was younger, and exactly what he__ look like when he was older. It was piercing, a secret glimpse of his future. __aybe,_ he said. __ut you won__ let anybody try.__ closed my eyes and swallowed. __ can__ tell the diference between not fighting,_ I said,__nd giving up.__espite my eyelids being tightly shut, a single, hot tear ran out of my left eye. I was so angry that it had escaped. I was so angry.Beneath me, the bed tipped as Cole edged closer. I felt him lean over me. His breath, warm and measured, hit my cheek. Two breaths. Three. Four. I didn__ know what I wanted. Then I heard him stop breathing, and a second later, I felt his lips on my mouth. It wasn__ the sort of kiss I__ had with him before, hungry, wanting, desperate. It wasn__ the sort of kiss I__ had with anyone before. This kiss was so soft that it was like a memory of a kiss, so careful on my lips that it waslike a memory of a kiss, so careful on my lips that it was like someone running his fingers along them. My mouth parted and stilled; it was so quiet, a whisper, not a shout. Cole__ hand touched my neck, thumb pressed into theskin next to my jaw. It wasn__ a touch that said __ need more_. It was a touch that said __ want this.__t was all completely soundless. I didn__ think either of us was breathing.Cole sat back up, slowly, and I opened my eyes. His expression, as ever, was blank, the face he wore when something mattered.He said, __hat__ how I would kiss you, if I loved you.

He sniffed her. The rubbery black nose inhaled deeply as it passed back and forth over her face, along her throat, her ears. Jeez, it was like being vacuumed-only most Hoovers didn't have the potential to bite her face off.

The Native Americans know that wolves are mirrors for humans. What they show us are our strengths and weaknesses... When I lived with the wolves, I was proud of the reflection of myself. But when I came back, I always paled in comparison.

WEST SALEM ~ October 2011A sudden vision, fraught with malevolence and darkness, obscured her sight. The face of a menacing figure turned from the shadows of his grisly handiwork and stared at Sorcha.Her muscles tensed. By the Goddess, could he see her?Please! No!She wanted to scream, to run, but the vision ensnared her into the horrific moment like a fly in a spider's web.

Some days I am more wolf than woman, and I am still learning how to stop apologizing for my wild.

Justice is a social construct. It__ well known that the physical universe isn__ fair. Nevertheless, it__ difficult to decide which is more provoking: good people suffering or evil people prospering.