Howling Passion (Paranormal Alpha Werewolf Shifter Romance) Read Online Free PDF

Stag of Lycanthus.
     
    I was awestruck myself.  I actually stopped dead in my tracks.  He was such a magnificent animal.  Entirely white, and impressively lithe, his long, velvet antlers sprouted seven sharp tines from each curved beam.  The White Stag stood in the stream at the far side of the clearing, the water gently lapping at his powerful legs just below his knees.  He stood proud, scanning the opposite bank, occasionally flicking his ears.  Then, satisfied there was no threat, he gracefully lowered his mighty neck and drank from the stream.
     
    My wild heart pounded rhythmically throughout my body, booming menacingly slowly.  I was fixated on the Stag.  My scent eventually overtook me and broke me from my trance.  I lowered my head, and in a crouch, I stalked forward into the clearing.
     
    “Quick, Honey, get the camera,” the man whispered urgently to I guessed his wife.  He had his back to me and was standing on the edge of the bank, staring at the White Stag.
     
    She was to my half left, also mesmerized by the deer in the stream.  She turned to retrieve their camera from the tent and caught sight of me.  The terror took her breath away, and she froze.  She was ten feet from a two hundred fifty pound wolf.
     
    If I had any chance of catching the White Stag, I needed to keep her quiet, and perhaps more importantly, calm.  Even though I could read her mind by looking into her eyes, I couldn’t control her thoughts.  She was too far gone anyway, paralyzed with shock.  But I could project my energy onto her, which might work.
     
    Calm.  Safe , I willed, slowing my own excited heart in the process.
     
    Her shoulders relaxed and I felt her energy shift.  She knew I wasn’t a threat to her or her husband.  She knew she was safe.
     
    I turned my attention back to the White Stag.  He still hadn’t noticed me approaching.  I was only thirty feet away.  The man though, was right between us.  The Stag lifted its head suddenly, causing me to freeze mid-step, my front right paw hovering above the snow.  The Stag surveyed the opposite bank carefully.  The increased frequency of his ear flicks signaled his apprehension.
     
    “Honey, what’s taking you so l…” the man whispered as he saw me out of the corner of his eye, turning back to his wife.  He gasped loudly, stumbling back into the stream.  The air in the clearing immediately filled with fear, and the White Stag’s head shot around to look at me. 
     
    The encounter lasted a lifetime.  I couldn’t read its mind.  I couldn’t feel its energy.  And instinctively, I couldn’t rush it until it ran.
     
    I willfully placed my right paw down in the snow and stalked forward.  I bared my teeth and growled.  But the White Stag held his ground, staring at me impassively.  I passed the man, who had backed waist deep into the stream, and inched forward.  My growl burst into  a few short barks, but all I got for my trouble was an ear flick.  The Stag didn’t fear me.  Or at least didn’t show that he did.
     
    Closing to within ten feet, I crouched down, ready to pounce.  I was snarling, my ears back.
     
    I saw myself from outside my body, coiled up like a spring and ready to strike.  The White Stag of Lycanthus was rooted to the spot, staring me down.  He was much bigger than I was, maybe eight hundred pounds.  The heartbeat thundering in my mental image was faster than my own.  Then I realized, I was seeing myself through Connor’s eyes.
     
    Connor’s raging bark shattered the tense tranquility of the scene as he charged across the stream amidst a wall of foaming spray.  The White Stag leapt from the water in a single bound and darted into the forest.  The fleeing deer triggered my prey drive, and I shot off after him. 
     
    Connor and I actually barged into each other as we both reached the tree line at the same time, growling and barking in a wild frenzy.  The White Stag bounded effortlessly ahead of us, changing