Archive Read Online Free PDF Page A

* * *
     
    The initial leg of the race was a simple footrace to a bridge; the leaders quickly separated themselves from the rest of the pack. A warm thrill ran through her as she noticed Sirnel in one of the lead positions. His arms and legs moved smoothly, muscles bunching and relaxing in the gleaming light of the day. It was a beautiful sight.
    Every ideal of Greek mythology was depicted in those men, grace, beauty and strength, and they were competing for her. It was enough to cause a gush of moisture between her thighs. The women sitting near her smiled slightly at the change in her scent, even her nose could detect the same change in them. It was obvious that the specimens of masculinity that were running were of interest to more than just herself, and several of the losers were going to be well consoled.
    Her pulse was rapid and she watched amazed as the second leg of the race began with a shape shift and a run through a slalom course in their wolf shapes. It was the same style of agility course that dogs trained on and competed in, and apparently the wolves enjoyed them for the same reason. They were both fun and challenging.
    One by one, the men shifted, shook themselves into their fur and began the course. All that was missing was a fly ball, and the course would have been complete. Mel grinned at the image that formed in her mind of the ranks of werewolves running to the springboard to catch a tennis ball. It almost made her laugh out loud, but did help her to get her arousal out of control.
    They completed a seesaw, then had to shift back into human form for the last leg of the race. It was at this point that the weaker of the competitors became obvious. They couldn’t shift back from wolf to human, or managed it and collapsed in a heap.
    Sirnel staggered slightly as he shifted back to human form but ran the final leg of the race to the finish line in first place. A blonde was hot on his heels and on of the girls murmured, “That’s Geoffrey. He is a member of the Yellowpaw clan.”
    As the men finished or dropped out, their placement was dutifully recorded by a panel of judges. They had also been judged on speed and the ease of their transition between forms.
    Rebecca clapped in delight as Sirnel was declared one of the finalists that would compete the next day. “I knew he would do it!”
    “Well, I suspected that he would do it. You had depicted him as a god-like form. No one would dare to displace him.” She laughed at Becs and kept snickering as a flush stained her face.
    Ten finalists in total were declared and the women with her leapt up to console a few of the losers that cast longing glances toward the feminine huddle. They may have lost the Archive battle, but they would not be spending the night alone.
    As a few of the finalists turned toward her, her honour guard stepped between them. Apparently, fraternizing was not to be allowed. Especially considering that the men were still nude, and interested.
    “Miss Simpson? If you would come with me, the pack alphas would like to meet you.” A messenger appeared next to her and she squinted into the sun, noting his silhouette and having a flickering thought about the dream she had enjoyed after the day at the pond.
    It wasn’t the same man. She didn’t know who had been in her dream, but it wasn’t this man. “Fine, lead the way.” With a little effort she rose from the grass and brushed the remnants off her jeans. Her bottom was a little damp, but nothing that wouldn’t dry in the afternoon sun.
    A sharp tug on her leg let her know that her gremlin had reappeared. He scampered up and climbed onto her shoulders, his face buried in her hair.
    She looked about to see what had scared him and laughed at the sight of a group of wolves snarling at him from twelve feet away. Her guards were all that stood between her gremlin and the hungry jaws.
    “This is my gremlin, please don’t eat him.” She addressed the shifted wers and was gratified to see them