Axel took a deep breath, dragged a hoof against the earth, and shifted—slowly. His shoulder blades flattened across his broad back, and bare skin took shape along his muscled thighs. His lips tightened, and his hooves divided into fingers as he reared up to two legs. Two shaky legs and a slightly pale face.

  “You sure that’s for me?” he murmured, biting his lip.

  She took his hand and tugged gently. “I know it’s for you.”

  His lips moved, but no sound came out, except maybe the audible thump of his heart.

  She led him down the rise, across the bridge that spanned a dry creek bed, and toward the gate. Rick’s truck was parked outside it, and they took a second to pull on their clothes, then stepped forward again.

  Axel’s fingers tightened around hers as she led him across the cattle grid under the gate and into the dancing firelight. The torches lit dozens of eager faces, all turned their way. A murmur of excitement rippled through the crowd.

  Everyone was there. Aunt Jean and Ruth, beaming and wiping the corners of their eyes and clutching their hands to their hearts. The schoolkids, up way past their bedtimes, waving enthusiastically. George the blacksmith, nodding with the corners of his mouth turned ever so slightly up. Zack and Rae, their faces shiny and bright. Tina and Rick, clasping hands.

  Audrey, shooting daggers from the back row. Beth’s eyes skipped right over the blonde. This was Axel’s night, and hers, and nothing could spoil it.

  The crowd hemmed them in on both sides, leading to the steps of the council house, where Ty Hawthorne, pack alpha, stepped out of the shadows.

  The crowd murmured, watching their leader. He didn’t wait for Axel to come to him, but he descended the steps to meet him eye to eye in the ultimate sign of respect.

  Ty nodded at Beth, and she thought that would be it. A nod was all she ever got.

  But Ty kept his gaze locked firmly on her, and there was something new in his eyes.

  Respect.

  “Beth Carter.” He nodded his welcome. “Librarian, teacher…part-time warrior?” He raised his left eyebrow.

  Even on a good day, it could be hard to meet the alpha’s eyes. The most Beth had ever managed was a fleeting glance. Her fingers tightened around Axel’s as she steeled herself to return the alpha’s gaze. The tiniest hint of a smile ghosted across his face.

  “Well done,” Ty murmured. “Well done.”

  Behind him, Tina’s eyes were shining. Lana grinned and brought her hands together in silent applause.

  Beth dropped her eyes then, not because his gaze hurt, but because she might just burst from pride.

  When Ty cleared his throat and turned to Axel, she could feel the weight of the alpha’s powerful gaze move away like a heavy shadow.

  “Axel Waldermann,” Ty announced, loud and clear.

  Everyone fell into a poignant hush until all there was to hear was the crackle of the torches, the chirp of cicadas. Her chin snapped up. Her hand gripped Axel’s, which was close to crushing hers. A moment of truth.

  The pack alpha looked the shifter up and down, considering.

  “Javelina shifter,” Ty continued.

  Axel stiffened.

  “Brother. Hero.” Ty’s bass rumbled the words, and then he broke into a wide grin. Not a hidden one, nor a flitting imitation, nor anything halfway. A full-on, twinkling-eye, cheeky grin she never would have thought the man was capable of.

  “Axel Waldermann,” Ty finished, “welcome home.”

  * * *

  Many fans report sniffling and cheering at Axel and Beth’s happy end. One reader requested a love scene between the stacks in the library as a bonus epilogue, and A Rose in Bloom is the result. Just turn the page to see what you think!

  Bonus Scene: Rose in Bloom

  Beth Carter is enjoying her new life as a happily mated wolf, but something’s got her inner beast all riled up. She’s itchy, cranky, and desperate for her mate. Where, oh where, can her wereboar be?

  This red-hot bonus epilogue takes place in the library two months after the events of Desert Rose.

  * * *

  Axel

  “Turn it,” old George barked.

  Axel used the metal tongs to flip the iron and gripped it tight. His hands were sweaty inside the leather gloves, his face flushed from the heat of the forge. But a tiny grin played around his lips because there was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be: working a job he loved in a place he loved with—he glanced at the clock—ten minutes until lunch break when he’d get to see the woman he loved. The curvy she-wolf he’d won in a fight against the odds.

  Life didn’t get better than that, not even with a hard-to-please blacksmith as a boss.

  Bang! Bang! Ding! Old George let his hammer fly, with two hits on target and a light third on the anvil to keep his rhythm up.

  “Flip it back,” George ordered. “And stay out of the light.”

  That was the hard part, because even with the roomy workshop, his body simply took up most of the available space. Just squeezing his broad frame through the doorway took some care, but he loved the place almost as much as he loved the bungalow he shared with his mate. The wind whispered through the cracks in the weathered walls, and the glory of the desert was never too far away. He’d been reborn in this smithy, in a way. His new life had started here, this unlikely place where he’d finally been able to break out of the restless, nomadic ways of his home pack.

  He watched carefully, noting just where George used sheer force and where he wielded a lighter touch. The tricky bit was coming up, when George flared the edges upward. The owner of a fancy new play-ranch on the other side of the county had commissioned an ornate gate, and it was the kind of project Axel had yet to try on his own. But someday…

  He had a lot of plans for someday, but there was no rush. Everything was perfect as it was.

  Bang! Bang! Ding!

  The sound of the hammer was music to his ears, the same way his mate’s sweet voice was music to his ears. He glanced at the clock and dragged a line in the sawdust underfoot. With every passing minute, his inner beast longed more and more fiercely for his mate. Hungered for her with a growing urgency he couldn’t quite explain.

  He sniffed the trickle of a fresh breeze coming in from the open door and found nothing to cause alarm. The ranch was quiet, everyone going about their business like so many busy bees. So why was he so restless?

  Just settle down, he ordered his inner boar.

  That was the thing about being a shifter: the constant internal tug of war. And the beast end of the equation was especially powerful in his species: javelina shifters. The wild boar in him was even more of an untamed, raging force than the wolf shifters he lived amongst. Most javelinas spent more time in animal form than human, and even though Axel was an exception, he still feared the prospect of letting his inner boar grab the reins.

  Settle down, already.

  Still, his foot kept pawing impatiently at the ground. He wiped the sweat off his brow and turned his full attention to the job. But now that a crack had appeared in his focus, that was getting harder and harder to do. What started as a tiny fissure started sprouting off to all sides like a rumbling earthquake about to let rip.

  “Stop fidgeting,” George muttered.

  Mate! His inner beast screamed. Want my mate!

  The voice was rough and greedy in a way it hadn’t been in a long time. What the hell was going on?

  He scraped the leather glove over his brow and glared determinedly ahead. No way was he letting the beast take over now. Not now, not ever.

  Idiot! Can’t you smell the scent of destiny? the boar barked in his mind.

  He wanted to blurt back that he knew all about destiny. Destiny had brought him to his mate and to his amazing new life, and the last thing he needed was a wild boar lecturing him on—

  Whoa.

  His whole body went rigid. His nostrils flared. His eyes closed as he processed the scent tickling his nose. The faint, yet unmistakable scent of his mate. His desert rose.

  Her scent was sweet and sticky, the way it got when the two of them were tangoing in bed or whenever his indomitable she-wolf was aroused. But it was thicker, somehow. More insistent. Urgent, even.

  Mate! Needs us! Now!

  His cock twitched inside his jeans, getting the message long before his mind. What was going on? Was she hurt? Lonely? Mad?

  “Nearly done…” George muttered, more to himself than to Axel.

  Axel narrowed his eyes on the glowing red tip of the metal, trying to focus. But that only made things worse because he was seeing all kinds of weird shapes in that glow. Shapes that danced and elongated and struggled to find their final form. A bubble turned into a stick, the stick bent this way and that, then branched into different parts, and—

  He held his breath, watching the tiny form take shape in his imagination. Like a ghost of the future instead of the past. A tiny form with two legs and two arms and a familiar face and…

  My son, the boar bugled inside. That’s my son! Now, go!

  Axel wanted to shake the notion out of his head, because he didn’t have a son. Didn’t have any children. Not yet, anyway. Of course, he and Beth had talked about someday and—

  Holy shit.

  He stood ram straight when it finally dawned on him that someday had finally come around. Her body was calling to his, telling him she was ready.

  “All right,” George mumbled, oblivious to the inner tornado whipping through Axel just a few inches away. “We’ll stop for lunch now—”

  Axel had never shed his leather apron so fast. Never missed the hook it belonged on as many times, either, before finally, finally getting it to hang. Normally, he made a pleasant ritual out of washing his hands after work, but all he managed this time was a frantic bird-in-a-bath kind of splash, sud, and rinse.

  “Something wrong?” George raised his bushy eyebrows.

  Axel turned for the door so quickly, he bashed into the anvil. Pained flared through his ribs but that was dim compared to the thundering voice in his mind.

  Mate! his boar roared, threatening to jump straight out of his skin as he scrambled for the door.

  “Nothing wrong,” he shot back, sprinting over the threshold.

  He expected George to mutter in reply, but all he heard was a knowing chuckle that followed him out the door and down the dirt lane.

  “I remember that,” George said, dropping his sour tone for a lighter, sentimental one. “Boy, do I remember that.”

  Axel sprinted down the pathway, trying to figure out where to find Beth. Work at the smithy started early and ended for lunch at eleven, an hour before the school where Beth worked. And it was Tuesday, her short day at the school, which meant she should already be at her second job in the library.

  Library. His boar nodded and sent a thousand lusty images into his mind. Like his mate’s shiny hair, cascading back over bare shoulders the second after he’d helped her out of her clothes. Her shy smile, her perfect curves. Her not-at-all shy hands, sliding up and down his—

  “Mister Axel! Mister Axel!” the kids waved as he race past the adobe building that housed the tiny school.

  He managed a little wave and blushed. Did everyone on the ranch know what his sprint meant? The stiffest sprint of his life, what with the hard-on screaming behind his jeans.

  He raced up the three flagstone steps to the library, burst in the door, then leaned back against it and looked around.

  Over there. His boar ordered him toward the stacks in the technology section. Our mate is right over there. Hurry!

  Axel shook his head and hung on to the hooked door handle like an anchor. He was not letting his boar race into the stacks and take his mate. Not the way the boar wanted to, anyway. He would do this right. Hold her carefully, gently, and fill her when she was ready for it, too.

  She’s ready, believe me. His boar rolled its eyes. So, so ready.

  The scent of a flower in full bloom hit him in a fragrant wave and he knew the boar was right.

  So, so right. His boar nodded.

  A second sniff told him they were alone in the library, thank God. He took a deep breath, flipped the sign to Closed, locked the door to prevent unwanted company, and stepped toward the stacks.

  Beth

  Beth tugged at the collar of her shirt. Damn, did her skin itch. And boy, were her cheeks hot. She’d felt perfectly fine all morning until out of nowhere, this fever started up. Well, not exactly a fever, but close. Something was off kilter, making her wolf was pace restlessly inside. Usually, that side of her snoozed when she headed to the library. Now, though, it was sniffing and scratching and impossible to ignore.

  What do you want? she demanded at last.

  When she was in human form, the wolf was just an image in her mind. And right now, that image was scratching its right ear with its rear leg.

  Nothing, the wolf retorted in a crabby voice. Or something. I don’t know.

  Beth sighed and went back to checking the shelves. Best to ignore her wolf when it got bitchy.

  Not that the beast had anything to complain about. Not after the crazy road she’d traveled to win her destined mate. All those years of being alone, of slowly losing hope, until her true love had come along and brought out a fighting spirit she wouldn’t have believed she had until everything came down to one last chance. At love. At forever. At a new life, snatched from the jaws of death. All of it against the odds.

  So, yeah… Definitely no complaints. Not on a gloriously ordinary day like this.

  Well, maybe not so ordinary, because the wind seemed to have giggled at her all the way to work. Something was definitely up. But what?

  She pulled out a book and re-shelved it a few slots farther right. Timmy and some other school kids had been in and explored the aeronautics section of the stacks, and that had been fun. Anything to get them reading was fine with her. The kids had mostly reshelved the books in their proper places, even if they hadn’t quite figured out the decimals yet. Maybe she could suggest that to the full-time teacher, Heather, as a real-life context for a math lesson. That would be good. The kids could line up all the airplane books and check how many places the decimals went to and—

  “Hi.”

  She spun with a smile, because she knew that deep voice. Knew every inch of the man taking up most of the space between the stacks. Sunlight backlit the outline of his body and glowed through his coppery hair.

  Her mate. Her perfect mate. God, he was sweet, surprising her like this.

  “Hi,” she said, stepping in for a hug with the world’s best hugger. That was just one of the many bonuses of having a huge mate with big, capable hands. A soft, coppery beard to nuzzle against, too, and acres of muscle compacted onto one tough frame.

  The funny thing was, he held her slightly away from his chest, and his hands trembled on her shoulders.

  “Are you okay?” She looked up at his face.

  Her mate was a giant, but a gentle giant, most of the time. His rust-colored beard and full cheeks always gave her the right mixture of soft and scruffy to rub up against. But right now, his features were set in stone, his eyes fierce.

  “I’m okay,” he whispered in his deeper-than-deep bass. The only part of his body that moved were his nostrils. Each breath seemed to result in his face flushing more. “How are you?”

  “Um, good.” She cocked her head at Axel. What was going on?

  He stroked her hair with one massive hand. His lips moved, struggling to form words.

  “You doing good, my love?” she asked.

  His thumb traced her lower lip, pulling it a little as he went. “Real good,” he said in a voice so low, it seemed to come out of the stone foundation under her feet.

  Heat poured off him, and she was seized with the urge to rub against him like a horse against a tree. Maybe that would drive that infernal itch away and ease whatever was bothering her mate, too.

  She snuggled her face against his neck. Ran a hand over his chest. Leaned in with one shoulder and dipped down, then slid up. Her eyes drifted closed. God, that felt good. So good, she did it again. Sighed into his skin, let her hand rub in circles, and shifted her weight up and down. That was yet another advantage to having a mate the size of a compact truck; she could push all she wanted and know he wouldn’t budge one inch.

  A deep, rough rumble built in his chest and she hummed back. Circled her hand a little more and found his nipple under the fabric of his work shirt. His scent enveloped her, all oak and leather and smoked hickory and…desire?

  “What’s gotten into you, my mate?” She almost giggled, because her bear of a mate was always polite and careful and reserved. Caveman antics were strictly saved for the privacy of their house, and even then, the steady hand of control always kept a firm grip on his inner brakes. But here he was, looming over her, huffing, barely holding himself in check. The seams of his jeans were another thing barely hanging on, judging by the heated package pushing against her hip right now.

  “You,” he croaked, pulling her tighter against his groin.

  Nice to know Mister Nice Guy had a naughty side, too.

  Of course, she was suddenly burning with desire, too. Desire that welled up out of nowhere in the middle of the day.

  And the problem is…? her wolf demanded.

  Maybe the beast was right. There wasn’t anything wrong about wanting her mate. In fact, everything about joining with him right now felt overwhelmingly right.

  She allowed herself a tiny, naughty grin. Everyone on the ranch thought of her as the reserved librarian. Wouldn’t it be nice to let out her wild side for once?

  Her wolf gave its tail a lusty swipe.

  She pulled the tail of his shirt out of his jeans and worked a hand up his chest. Zoned right in on his hard, flat nipple, and circled it.

  He groaned.

  Maybe there was nothing wrong with her today. Maybe she was just hungry for her mate. She kissed his neck, enjoying the salty taste of his hot skin. Opened her mouth and sucked a little, then harder as he strained to keep his cool. Every innocent touch had a way of getting away from her, though, and suddenly she was kissing, clawing, groping.