Like a Second Skin

Chapter Three: We Really Need to Stop Meeting Like This

The afternoon breeze ruffled the grass and stirred the lake’s surface, and it felt decadent rippling through her fur. Rahne rolled and stretched out onto her back, cradling the back of her head in her palms as she watched the clouds roll in lazy mounds. It’s so bluidy easy, bein’ a wolf, she sighed. No embarrassment. No saying anything daft…no blushing red as a bluidy beet in front o’ Douglas Ramsey!

If there was any small measure of consolation she could draw from this day, it was that Doug had smiled at her. Granted, she’d made a grand goose of herself, but it was for HER. This was nothing like the crush she’d had on Sam.

Sam’s gawkiness and shy mannerisms captured her heart from the word “go.” Was he handsome? Rahne certainly thought so. There was just something so…SAM, about Sam. She enjoyed his strange accent and hearing him talk about his mother, brothers and wee sisters, and the Kentucky hills where he grew up. His blue eyes sometimes took on the same dreamy look that Dani’s did when she described her mountains. Rahne envied them their respective loves of the homes and land where they grew up.

The last time Rahne set foot, or paw, on Kinross Keep, she’d been chased by people with torches and pitchforks. Hardly the childhood hijinks one told their friends about over cocoa at a slumber party. Not really.

Sometimes, life just wasn’t fair. The one brief moment that he’d ever noticed her or thought of her as pretty, he hadn’t recognized her. “Och, what’s the matter wi’ me??” she grumbled, cringing at the memory.

“Excuse me, gal, could you possibly get Amy or Dani or Rahne to come to the door?” There she stood, dressed to kill in a borrowed red outfit, makeup applied by Illyana’s and Diana’s expert hands, and a flower tucked behind her ear, just for good measure, and he just looked through her like she was a stranger.

So, she’d knocked the wind out of him and slammed the door in his face. Brilliant. Just brilliant. When she’d poured out her ire over his blunder of mistaken identity, Dani’s only reassurance (between chuckles and guffaws at her expense, blast her!) had been “Nope. All he was was a beautiful girl.” The enormity of it found her berating herself for the rest of the night while everyone else was dancing to Michael Jackson songs and playing truth or dare.

Why me? Why do I always have to be the one everyone ignores? Kitty had a boyfriend for as long as Rahne had been at the school, and Peter was so nice. Boys always stared at Dani. Boys always asked Illyana to dance. And Sam couldn’t stop beating himself against a wall – literally, sometimes – whenever Amara walked into a room. Although she had felt a teeny sense of triumph when Amara ended up soaked in root beer when Sam did a somersault while he was blasting and dumped the whole case over her head.

Ah, Sam…Rahne’s lupine muzzle peeled back into a hooting laugh.

An odd flashing in the trees caught her attention. Yellowish-white light flickered, it’s brilliance intensifying. Rahne pulled herself up and stood, stretching her limbs one last time before she scratched herself and plodded toward the unusual flickering.

**”And then she remembered that human beings could not live in the water, so that when he got down to her father's palace he would be quite dead. But he must not die. So she swam about among the beams and planks which strewed the surface of the sea, forgetting that they could crush her to pieces. Then she dived deeply under the dark waters, rising and falling with the waves, till at length she managed to reach the young prince, who was fast losing the power of swimming in that stormy sea. His limbs were failing him, his beautiful eyes were closed, and he would have died had not the little mermaid come to his assistance. She held his head above the water, and let the waves drift them where they would.”**

“Och!” Rahne gasped as she approached the clearing, and shielded her yellow-green eyes with one clawed hand. The light was a swirling vortex of glaring electricity, radiating so much energy she felt the heat through her shaggy coat. A dark spot appeared in the middle of the flare, widening and changing shape. It became a narrow strip, gradually lengthening and widening, taking the shape of…a person?

Of a man.

A tortured, agonizing howl erupted from the chasm before the smoking, disheveled being tumbled out of the energy field, crumpling to the ground, gasping for breath.

“Blessed Father! OCH!”Rahne’s feet stumbled forward as she lunged the last few feet to grasp him under the armpits and pull him away from the vortex. The same burning energy momentarily tingled as she made contact with him, burning her, and she shrieked in pain but never let go of him. The portal gave one final flaring, crackling release of energy before it collapsed with an earth-shaking “VRAAAAMMPPP-ZZZZZTTTT!!!”

The faint scent of smoke still filled the air, and Rahne’s fur was slightly singed, but she was otherwise unharmed. She levered herself up onto her forearms, panting to catch her breath, and releasing another gasp of relief as she peered down at the strange being beneath her. He was turned on his stomach with his face turned in profile so she could gaze upon his features. He was so familiar.

He had a slightly high forehead and patrician cast to his nose; it was straight and narrow with a pertly pointed tip. Dark brown eyelashes feathered against a pair of sculpted high cheekbones, twitching as he attempted to regain consciousness. Belatedly Rahne realized that her chest was pressed directly against his shoulder blades. The position was awkward and sent a flush of heat into her cheeks, made even more compromising by the tingle she felt at the touch of his bare, smooth flesh, still warm from his journey through the strange portal. Her fingers trembled as she reached up to smooth a lock of his chestnut brown hair back from his eyes, which opened drowsily at her caress.

“Mmmmmmm. Nnnnnnnggghhh.” His chest was wracked by a cough spasm that made him jerk beneath her, and she flung herself backward, relieving him of her weight since he didn’t need her to shield him anymore…

…except for one thing. He was as naked as the day he was born.

“Och!”

The young man was drowsy and suddenly felt slightly bereft at the loss of the soft bulk covering him a moment ago. He also felt a distinct…draft. He pushed himself up onto his hands, and felt the damp rasp of grass tickling him in places that felt strangely vulnerable without his protective coat of fur. It was almost a sensual experience, but so disconcerting that he couldn’t quite enjoy it. He was still tingling, still drowsy, and had no idea where he was.

“Odin’s beard,” he murmured. “What in the bright realm happened to me? What…?” His voice was a soft, light baritone with pear-shaped vowels and inflections that were more formal than Rahne was used to, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was familiar. That she’d known him, somehow. How could she? He didn’t leave her an opportunity to ponder it as he turned to face the one who selflessly threw him out of the path of the field’s wake.

Hrimhari’s silver eyes met Rahne’s yellow-green ones and locked, drowning in them, his heart hammering with recognition.

“Beloved,” he whispered. “It’s really you.” A pale, milky hand stretched itself toward her, and Rahne sat stock-still, not daring to move, but her whiskers quivered as her senses collected information about him. His body temperature, his scent. His movements, and the carefree grace and fluidity that tailored them. Nimble fingertips grazed her muzzle at first, then stroked her jaw with more confidence as he ran the backs of his knuckles against her in a caress that made her shiver. “It’s really you, Rahne,” he repeated.

“You know me?” Her voice barely escaped her lips as her brain considered possible conclusions to who he could be. Her heart hammered in her chest, again drawing her to him, insisting that she knew this lad who could scarcely be a year or two younger than she was. He was of a slight build and narrow frame, but there was wiry strength in his arms and shoulders. His eyes were kind, and a smile kissed his lips, revealing a tiny dimple.

“I’d know you anywhere,” he explained. “I love you, Rahne.” His hand traced her jaw and trailed down her throat this time, continuing to stroke a path down her furry shoulder and upper arm, tickling the bend of her elbow before he took her hand. She almost didn’t believe it when he pulled her closer, the grass creating friction beneath her as she was pulled into the nook between his legs. Rahne shut her eyes against his nudity and flinched at the closeness of him, but her fingers reflexively touched him, exploring his cool flesh. Her palm landed just below his collarbone, and she felt his rushing pulse. Heard it with her enhanced hearing.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice slightly imperious but not arrogant. She obeyed, forcing her eyes to remain on his face. To do otherwise…well, it wouldn’t be proper. Her mum and Professor Magnus would be completely scandalized at her predicament.

“See me. Know me.” He swallowed, his mouth growing dry at the sight of the russet-haired minx who haunted his dreams, finally huddled against him again, but looking entirely baffled. “Tell me you remember your wolf prince,” he pleaded. He hadn’t released her hand yet, and he lifted it to his lips, nipping her palm with his lips. Heat rushed into Rahne’s belly, and she trembled with the revelation of who he was. That he was here.

“Hrimhari. Oh, Hrimhari!” Her fears about “what was proper” fled on the wings of remembered passion as she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him tenderly, capturing his lips gently, taking care not to scratch him with her sharp canines. His hands clutched at her, stroking her back as he embraced her. He lost his balance, however, and they tumbled together in an ungraceful heap, back onto the grass.

“Mmmph! Mmmmm…” Hrimhari’s yelp of surprise was muffled against Rahne’s mouth as he succumbed to her kiss, becoming reacquainted with her taste. Without a thought, acting in passion, he eased her on top of him again, covering himself with her full length, and he gloried in the feel of her sumptuous fur beneath his hands, rubbing along his body. The sensations she was giving him, coupled with the rasp of the grass beneath them were dizzying and overwhelming.

“Hrimhari…” she whispered against his lips, and she felt his hand cup her nape, pulling her more deeply into his kiss, nipping her bottom lip and tugging it between his teeth, and she responded with a faint growl. She moved sinuously against him, rubbing him in a way that felt almost pagan, certainly forbidden. He just felt so right.

And yet it was wrong.

“Mmmph! OCH! We mustn’t! We kinna do this!” She broke away from him, tearing herself out of his embrace, adrenalin pumping through her veins. She skipped backwards, covering her mouth with her fingers. “Oh, sweet Lord, yuir as bare as a babe!” She’d nearly forgotten that…and she caught more than a glimpse.

He was so beautiful. And staring at him like this…well, it was sinful. Improper.

Heart-stopping.

She spun around and covered her eyes. She almost didn’t hear his timid query over the rushing in her ears. “Beloved?”

Footsteps padded toward her, but she still wouldn’t look at him. “Beloved?” he beckoned again.

“Aye?” she whispered.

“Is this…any better?” Slowly she turned toward his voice and peered at him through the crack between her fingers. Her hand fell away as she allowed herself to look him over again. Hrimhari was as she remembered him, this time resplendent in his transitional form, lupine eyes rimmed in black, twinkling at her.

“Yes,” she admitted with a hasty nod, “much. For now.” She cleared her throat. “This leaves me with a few questions, laddie. First off, how did ye get here? And second, what are we t’do wi’ ye?” He opened his mouth to form a reply, but paused, cocking his head as he picked up a new scent blowing toward them on the breeze.

“We’re not alone,” he informed her.

“No,” she confirmed. “We’re among friends. She’s my best friend,” she reassured him. “Come.” She clasped his hand and tugged him toward the thicket, picking their way along the dirt path leading back toward the mansion. She felt the waves of curiosity and concern coloring Danielle’s thoughts before she even caught sight of them in the clearing.

“Rahney…what the heck are you doing out here? You didn’t have to run off…” Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of the silver-furred metamorph.

“It’s okay,” she assured her. “Everything’s okay.” Hrimhari felt a frisson of warmth and affection rise up within him as she squeezed his hand.