BETA's LOVER

                                                                       MACKENZIE

We collapsed into the grass, breathless from the chase—me panting with laughter, him standing tall and proud just a few feet away, tail wagging, tongue lolling in a wolfish grin that felt far too smug.

I sat up, brushing stray blades of grass from my arms. "Okay, okay," I laughed, "you win."

He tilted his head, ears twitching as if to say obviously, then took a step back. His gaze met mine once more—steady, intense. I watched, heart still racing, as his massive form began to shimmer under the moonlight.

And then he shifted.

Bones cracked, limbs bent, fur melted away into skin. The change was fluid, almost too quick to process—but I couldn't look away. In a breath, where the great wolf had stood, now stood Alistair—bare, fully human... and completely, unapologetically naked.

My mouth dropped open, and an involuntary shout tore out of me.

"Alistair!"

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed. "What?" he asked, as if he wasn't standing there under the stars without a single stitch of clothing. "It's not like you haven't seen a naked man before."

I scrambled to my feet, half-turning away with my hands over my face, but I was laughing, too—half-horrified, half-thrilled, and fully aware of the heat rushing to my cheeks. "That's not the point!"

He didn't move. Just stood there, waiting again—just like the wolf had. Only this time, there was no fur, no distance. Just skin and breath and bare, raw presence.

My heart hammered against my ribs, but something in me shifted too—an almost reckless spark lighting behind my ribs. I peeked through my fingers, and found him still watching me, a slow grin tugging at his mouth.

A boldness I didn't know I had flared up inside me.

I dropped my hands. Straightened.

And took a step toward him.

Then another.

Alistair's grin faltered, his expression sharpening just slightly. I could feel the tension rising between us again—not fear this time, but something electric. Expectant.

When I finally stood in front of him, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off his skin, I tilted my head and met his gaze with deliberate calm. I let my fingers trace the fines lines on his stomach, feeling the muscles shift under my touch.

"Well," I said, voice softer now, but steady. "I guess it's only fair if I make you a little flustered, too."

His breath hitched. Just barely.

And God, that felt like victory.

His eyes flicked over my face, amused... and something more. That wolfish grin returned—mischief carved into every line of it.

"Oh?" he said, stepping in just a little closer, his voice low, rich with challenge. "You think you can fluster me?"

The heat between us spiked. I could feel it in the air—thick, charged, humming like static just before a storm.

"I'm not so easily rattled, sweetheart," he murmured, his tone teasing, but there was that glint in his eye again—that dangerous, knowing look that made my breath catch. "But by all means... try."