Awakening The Shifter

Chapter 2

Sarange didn’t know what she was feeling. So many emotions were competing for dominance inside her she couldn’t begin to single out or categorize any individual one. Generally, her temperament was even. She didn’t have mood swings. Yet after one brief encounter with Khan, her senses were swaying like a barometer needle in changing weather.

It was a relief to reach her dressing room without encountering anyone who wanted to talk to her. As the concert had approached, the demands on her time had increased. In the past few weeks, she had barely had a minute to call her own. Tonight had been a whirlwind of questions, requests and suggestions, all of which appeared to require her personal intervention.

Sarange had endless patience. It was part of her makeup. Her birth parents, whoever they were, must have bequeathed it to her with their genes. But right now she didn’t want to cope with someone else’s problems. Even for the sake of Animals Alive, the organization that had been her life’s work for so long. The thought caused her a pang of guilt, and she managed to quell it. Just for once, she was going to put duty aside. She was going to spend a little time alone analyzing what had just happened to her.

How had she managed to let the most arrogant, infuriating man she had ever met get to her? And by “get to me” I mean turn me on so much I almost burst into flames. Just the thought of how Khan made her feel had her breath catching in her throat and a renewed thrill of desire pulsing through her body.

What is wrong with me? She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, releasing a long sigh. Despite his devastating looks, Khan was not her type. She didn’t like overtly dominant men. Sarange had no desire to settle down. Now and then, she speculated about the reason. Did she have abandonment issues linked to her strange past? By ensuring she was the stronger partner in any relationship, was she making sure she couldn’t be hurt? Although it made a strange kind of sense, she didn’t feel it was a valid explanation for her choices. Perhaps she was just cold-hearted? It wasn’t something that affected her strongly enough to probe deeply.

Now she thought about it, her brief relationships had all been with men who conformed to a certain category. Undemanding was the first word that came to mind. Did she deliberately choose partners who wouldn’t challenge her? It wasn’t a question she had considered until now, and she didn’t like it. Didn’t want to start psychoanalyzing herself just because Khan had strutted onto her horizon. So what if, up to now, I’ve chosen sweet, considerate guys? The sort any woman would have no problem taking home to meet Mom and Dad?

Not that Sarange had a mom and dad. She had an uncle and aunt who did the same job. She tried to picture taking Khan home to meet Bek and Gerel Tsedev. The thought made her choke back a laugh. It was never going to happen, but the image was amusing.

It wasn’t just his arrogance that triggered a warning about Khan. It was the way he stripped away her control, and did it with such relish. Wolf girl. That was what he had called her. What had he meant by it? One thing was for sure, it wasn’t a compliment. The tone of his voice had been scathing, while the look in his eyes had scalded her. She assumed he meant she liked to be in charge. He had judged her on first impressions, likening her to the leader of a pack. It was a curious analogy, but their encounter had hardly been conventional. If she hadn’t walked out when she did, heaven alone knew what would have happened next. She had a feeling it would have led to passion beyond her wildest imagination followed by a world of regret.

Hadn’t she been equally guilty of basing her opinion of Khan on sensational reporting and the antagonistic, thrilling clash from which she had just walked away? She pushed herself off from the door and made her way to the refrigerator. Snagging a bottle of water, she drained half its contents in a few quick gulps.

This violent attraction she felt toward Khan, this uncertainty and angst about her feelings, the burning restlessness that made her want to turn right back around and finish what they’d started...it was all new to her. New and frightening. She didn’t like feeling this way. Sarange’s life was neat and tidy. She liked it best when everyone knew what they were supposed to be doing and no one deviated from the script. This felt wild and unrehearsed. Khan had thrown her so far out of her routine she couldn’t see a way back. And the scary thing was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

Her whole body was still trembling with a combination of excitement and outrage. Curiously, she felt as though the electricity coursing through her veins was there to stay. How could that be so? The answer was simple. It couldn’t. Put a little distance between her and Khan and she could forget him, get back to normal. It wasn’t as if he could have any sort of lasting effect on her life. Was it?

A knock on the door startled her into spilling water down the front of her dress. Instantly, she wondered if it was Khan, and her feelings went to war over the possibility. Excitement trilled through her at the thought of opening the door and seeing him again. At the same time, anger flooded through her. There could be only one reason why he would follow her. He must be confident she would fall into his arms again.

And won’t you? She hated this. Hated the way her body was pulling her in two different directions. Because she had no idea what she would do if she opened that door and Khan was standing on the other side of it. There was a strong possibility she would launch herself at him, but whether the outcome was a kiss or a punch remained to be seen.

With a hand that shook slightly, she turned the handle and opened the door. Her initial reaction told her everything she needed to know about her feelings. The man who stood there was most definitely not Khan. Shorter, slighter, with dark hair and sharp features, his smile oozing charm. It wasn’t his fault Sarange wanted to slam the door in his face because he wasn’t the person she longed to see. Her heart gave an uncomfortable downward lurch. She had a wretched feeling it was a signal. A warning that no one else would ever be good enough. From now on, the only person she would open a door to with a willing smile would be Khan.

This was straying into the realms of the absurd. This man, whoever he was, had begun to regard her with a slightly bemused expression. “Your manager said this would be okay. I’m Gurban Radin, owner of Real Planet Productions. We spoke on the phone last week.”

Forcing herself to concentrate, she dredged up a memory of the conversation. “Of course.” She held out her hand and he shook it enthusiastically. “Come in, Mr. Radin.”

“Just Radin, please.” He stepped into the dressing room. “I wanted to stop by and congratulate you on the success of tonight’s concert. After what I’ve just seen, I’m even more keen for us to work together on the project we discussed.”

Sarange nodded. “I’m looking forward to making the documentary with your company. Obviously, returning to my home country of Mongolia will be exciting for me. Even more important than that will be the focus on the plight of the blue wolves. They are one of the most endangered species on the planet.”

Radin paced the small room excitedly. “I don’t know if you’re aware of it...if you’ve had time to check yet?” He held up his cell phone. “But the response to your duet with Khan has been phenomenal. Social media is going wild. The electricity between the two of you was incredible.”

“We are performers. That’s what we do.” Sarange hoped her voice didn’t sound too cold, but at the same time, she wanted to dampen some of his enthusiasm. And maybe some of her own. She also had no idea what her performance with Khan had to do with the wildlife documentary she was supposed to be making.

“Exactly.” Radin’s eyes shone with zealous light. “We need to use that, and also capitalize on the public enthusiasm.”

“How do you propose to do that?” Sarange had a feeling she wasn’t going to like the answer.

“By getting Khan to make the blue wolf documentary with you.”

* * *

Being a rock star meant living on his nerves. The life was high-energy, high-profile and high-stress. Khan was permanently in the public eye and on someone else’s agenda. He had known how it would be when Ged helped him escape from captivity. This was the life Ged had offered him, and he had embraced it with gratitude. Khan was good at it—the best—but it didn’t always suit his big-cat temperament. His inner tiger craved solitude and supremacy. Juggling the two sides of his persona wasn’t easy, and he had been looking forward to this time after Beast’s tour as a chance to unwind before they started work on their new album. It hadn’t happened.

It had been weeks since the Animals Alive concert, and the intervening time had taken the madness of his fame to a whole new level. The entire concert had fired the public imagination, but his duet with Sarange had been the highlight. The chemistry between them had been tangible to those watching. Rumors of a romance between the bad boy of rock and the world’s most glamorous singer had persisted ever since. They couldn’t look at each other that way and not be in love; that was the argument that pervaded every website, magazine and TV program.

Always the subject of paparazzi attention—the press was desperate to catch him out in bad behavior...and they often succeeded—Khan had been unable to move out of his New York apartment. Ged had advised him to lie low.

“Something else will come up in a day or two to attract their attention, and this will all be forgotten.”

It hadn’t happened. Kha-range—Khan wanted to put his foot through the TV screen the first time he heard that celebrity fusion name—had become a media obsession. Hotels and restaurants, keen to boost business, fanned the flames by hinting at sightings and bookings. Engagements, weddings, a secret baby, breakups...the whole range of stories had hit the headlines in the last few weeks.

And the job offers had rolled in. The moneymen, seeing the opportunities in a collaboration between Khan and Sarange, had come up with an eye-watering range of ideas. Films, TV specials, a record deal, interviews, photo shoots, advertising, even a book.

Khan had lost count of the number of times he had said no. Today was different. Today he would get to say the word to Sarange herself.

“No.” He tilted his chair back so he could rest his shoulders against the wall. At the same time, he placed his feet on the glossy glass surface of the meeting table. The gesture was calculated to annoy Sarange. From the way her light blue gaze grew even icier as it dropped to his scuffed biker boots, he guessed he’d succeeded.

“I don’t think you’ve quite grasped the concept.” Gurban Radin, the guy who was in charge of the production company, leaned forward earnestly, resting his clasped hands on the table. “What we’re proposing is unlike anything that’s ever been done before. Two major stars being filmed as they travel together to a remote region of Mongolia to see the blue wolves in their natural habitat—”

“What part of ‘no’ didn’t you understand?” Khan had no problem being rude to this guy. He hadn’t asked for this meeting. He’d started out polite, but now they were taking up his valuable rehearsal time, and they still weren’t listening to him.

“The Animals Alive Foundation would benefit from your contribution.” Ged’s eyes held a play-nice warning. Khan saw that look on his manager’s face on a regular basis. Sometimes he felt a pang of pity for Ged. He worked so hard to keep Khan, his most famous client, out of trouble. He didn’t always succeed.

“I’ll write a check. Name your price.” Khan yawned. “The answer is still no.”

He could see Sarange fighting to keep her temper under control. He could read her emotions, even though he didn’t want to feel that connection to her. Part of the reason he had agreed to this meeting had been to test his resolve. The last few weeks had been torture. Every minute of every day, his body craved her. It wasn’t like going cold turkey on an addiction. It wasn’t getting easier as time went by. He didn’t have any periods when he didn’t hunger for his fix. If this was the rest of his life, he was screwed.

He really shouldn’t be here. Keeping away from her would have been the wisest move, but the rest of the world was conspiring against him. Even Ged was giving him some powerful reasons why he should consider this latest offer. In the end, Khan had taken a break from precious rehearsal time so he could look at Sarange and see how she was coping with the whole fated-mates, enforced separation situation. He hoped she was doing better than he was. And he wondered if she’d gotten a handle on her inner wolf yet. Because that whole denial thing was seriously weird.

Now that he was up close to her, he could see she was suffering. His gaze lingered on her face, drinking her in. Today her hair was drawn back in a thick braid that hung to her waist and she wore a crisp white shirt. Her jeans were tucked into soft leather boots. Even in casual clothing she managed to look like a Mongolian princess. Her face was heart-shaped, with flat high cheekbones tapering to a pointed chin. A broad, arrogant nose and full mouth added to the regal look. The only giveaway to her werewolf heritage was her eyes. Set under thick, soaring dark brows, they were twin chips of blue ice. Khan could see pain and confusion in their depths. Unlike him, he could tell Sarange still had no idea why she was hurting.

Life could be hard, and Khan knew from experience that went double for shifters. He experienced a brief, dangerous pang of sympathy for Sarange. Someone should sit her down and explain how these things worked. Not him. No way was Khan going there. But he wanted to take away that lost, hurt look in her eyes and replace it with the cynicism she would need to develop if she was going to survive as a werewolf in the human world. Maybe Ged could talk to her. The guy who had dedicated his life to rescuing damaged shifters had the experience and the skill.

“Are we done here?” Khan placed his hands on the table, indicating he intended to leave. Because he couldn’t put his body under this strain for much longer. There was only so much torment he could endure. And fighting the need to drag Sarange into his arms was just about the worst torture he had known. Coming from Khan, a weretiger who had endured capture, imprisonment and near death, that was quite an admission.

“Wait.” Sarange’s voice was quiet, almost pleading. When she raised her eyes to his, it was as though there was no one else in the room. “Just hear me out. Please?”

In spite of the voice in his head urging him to get right away from her and do it fast, Khan sank back into his seat. There was a tiny flare of gratitude in her eyes. And, in that instant, he was lost. He understood how medieval knights of old felt when they performed heroic deeds to prove their worth. Climbing beanstalks, defeating dragons—although the only dragon he knew was Torque, and he was generally harmless—and breaking magic spells. She wasn’t going to ask him to do any of those things. But he knew she was going to test his resolve.

“After to the red wolves, the blue wolves of Mongolia are the most endangered in the world. This pack has been gradually decreasing over the years so that now there are fewer than a hundred left.” Her voice was low, passionate. It was obvious how much this cause meant to her. “I agreed to travel to the region to make a documentary to raise awareness of their plight. Now the production company—” her eyes flickered to Radin “—have said they will withdraw the funding...unless you and I make the film together.”

“Why would they do that?” Even as Khan asked the question, he knew the answer.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sarange gave a bitter little laugh. “They’ll draw a huge audience because of the recent public interest in us.” She said the word “us” the way Khan thought it. Within bitter quotation marks. “It all comes down to money.”

Radin spoke up quickly. “We will, of course, be making a substantial contribution to the Animals Alive Foundation.”

Sarange ignored him. “Even if this film gets made, it may be too late for the blue wolves. The prediction is that they will be extinct within five years. But if we can raise awareness, begin a breeding program...who knows? There may just be a chance we can save them.”

“Why not make the film yourself using Animals Alive Foundation funds?”

“We couldn’t allow that.” Radin’s voice was smooth. “My company owns the rights to the documentary. How it is made is our decision.”

The sensation of being trapped was beginning to prickle along Khan’s spine. They thought they had him. Conscience, publicity, environmentalism, guilt...they thought they’d pressed all the right buttons and gotten him where they wanted him. Even Ged, his friend Ged, was expecting him to agree.

Well, to hell with this. Swinging up from his seat, Khan stalked out of the room without saying another word.

Chapter 3

“Can I show you something?”

Sarange was so angry she wanted to barge past the man who spoke. She wanted to do a lot more than that. She wanted to eradicate anything to do with Khan from her life. If only it was that easy. Ever since she’d met him, it was as if he’d taken control of her thoughts as well as her body. For weeks now, she had been functioning only in relation to him. He was the first thing she thought of on waking, and the last image in her head at night. He occupied her whole attention in between, and then she dreamed of him while she slept. Her entire being burned with longing for this man. A man she had met once. A man she intensely disliked. It was the wildest, scariest, most wonderful feeling she had ever known.

Coming here today, knowing she would be seeing him again, had made her feel like a school kid with a crush. For days, she had been battling the butterflies in her stomach and the clamminess of her palms.

Will he remember the kiss? Does he wish it had ended differently? She had repeatedly tried to force her thoughts onto the most important thing. Can I persuade him to change his mind about collaborating?

When Khan had first walked into this meeting room, the roller coaster of her emotions was almost too much to bear. She had nearly convinced herself that her imagination was playing powerful tricks on her. She couldn’t possibly have fallen as fast and as hard for Khan as her body was telling her she had. The guy was an overbearing, conceited jackass. No woman in her right mind could find him attractive. Okay, his face and body were incredible...oh, heaven help me, I’ve been taken in by his pretty face and mouthwatering biceps.

Sarange had been at the pinnacle of fame for over a decade. If good looks and muscles were what she wanted, she could have taken her pick. And, now and then, that was what she had done. Brief, pleasant relationships that had ended without regret or recrimination. But what she felt for Khan? This wildness? She had no idea what it was. All she knew for sure was she had to fight it. If she didn’t, it would take over her life.

This issue with Radin and the documentary was a complication she could do without. Over the years, the Animals Alive Foundation had grown beyond her own desire to protect the endangered species about which she cared. Sarange’s driving passion had become a global nonprofit organization, her primary function. Recently, her singing and songwriting had taken second place to her role as a wildlife ambassador.

Even so, she couldn’t explain why she was so drawn to the plight of the blue wolf pack. What the hell is wrong with me? First there was this restless longing for Khan. Now she wanted to storm in and help a subspecies of wolf that was probably doomed anyway. There were bigger challenges facing the animal world. Ones that would attract far greater attention. Elephants, pandas, tigers...fight the sexy fights. It was no good. She didn’t understand why, but the blue wolves called to her. Sarange would do what she could to save them.

It was her desire to protect the blue wolves that had brought her face-to-face with Khan again. She tried to tell herself that was why she had flown from Los Angeles to New York for this meeting. It wasn’t out of any overwhelming desire to see him. And he had just rejected her. Again. She had created a situation in which he could storm out on her like a moody teenager...

She drew a deep breath and forced her focus back into the room and onto Ged Taverner. As he rose from his chair, Ged kept unfolding until his big, muscular body towered over her. As she looked up at him, it occurred to Sarange that she could have felt intimidated. Although her bodyguard was standing by the door, this guy looked like he could wrestle a bear with one arm tied behind his back. Instead, Ged radiated a curiously protective aura.

What was he saying? He wanted to show her something?

“I’m sorry. I don’t have time...”

“This won’t take long.” He placed a hand under her elbow, his touch gentle but firm. The sensation of being swept along by forces beyond her control took over again. What was it about these people? Ever since she had encountered Khan, her life hadn’t been her own. Did that extend to his whole entourage?

They left the meeting room and Ged led her to the elevator. As he gestured for her bodyguard to wait, Sarange tried another protest. “I’ve wasted enough time traveling to New York for a meeting that has proved pointless. I can’t see any reason to hang around.”

“Five minutes.” She capitulated, nodding to the guard to meet her at the car. Ged smiled as he pressed the button for the basement. “Thank you.”

After exiting the elevator, they followed a short corridor. “Although the members of the band come from all over the world, once Beast became famous, they all moved here to New York. We tried a number of different recording studios before we settled on this one.”

“If they come from all over the world, how did they get together?” Sarange didn’t want to be intrigued by Beast. Didn’t want anything to do with the world’s greatest rock band and its purring, strutting, infuriating frontman, but Ged’s words interested her in spite of herself.

“I brought them together.” Why did she sense a huge story lay behind that simple statement? In spite of their dynamic personalities, Beast didn’t give much away about their private lives. Biographical details about the band members were scarce. In the past, Sarange had curled her lip at what she believed was a publicity ploy. The enigmatic tough guys of rock. She wondered for the first time what they were hiding.

Ged held open a door, motioning for her to precede him. When Sarange stepped inside, she was in a recording booth. From behind a clear glass panel, she could see a small, circular stage. Khan was seated on a stool in its center. He had drawn his wild mane of red-gold hair back with a simple elastic band, and his head was bowed as he clutched a microphone to his chest. His whole attitude was despairing.

Sarange turned to regard Ged. This didn’t feel comfortable. It felt a lot like she was intruding on Khan’s privacy.

“I’ve known him to spend hours perfecting a single note.” Ged’s voice was quiet as he looked over her head at the lone figure on the other side of the soundproof glass. “This side of Khan doesn’t fit with his public image. The stage persona, the guy who’d laugh in the devil’s face? That takes a hell of a lot of hard work.”

He flicked a switch as he spoke and Khan’s voice filled the booth. The song wasn’t one of Beast’s. It was an old love song, with a sweet melody, haunting in its intensity. Khan didn’t apply any of his usual vocal fireworks to this performance. Alone, unaware of his audience, and with no backing music, he closed his eyes, pouring his heart into the song.

As she listened, tears burned the back of Sarange’s eyelids. What was it about this man? Where had this invisible thread that pulled her to him come from? And how the hell was she going to sever it? She didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry that Ged had shown her Khan had another side to him. Would it have been easier to walk away believing he was shallow and self-absorbed? Khan had given her no choice. She had to walk away. It was never going to be easy.

Ged waited until Khan had finished singing before he spoke. “His vocal range is unique. Khan can sing opera just as easily as rock.”

As if to demonstrate, Khan started to sing again. The same ballad with a slightly different emphasis. There was something rawer in the emotion this time. God, he could tell a story with that voice! The last version had made her think of unrequited love. This one was a whole lot hotter. It conjured up visions of steamy sex and crumpled sheets...and it made her whole body burn.

“Who is he?” She tilted her head back to look at Ged. The question, coming out of nowhere, surprised her.

Ged didn’t falter. “He is Khan.” Ged said it as though it clarified everything. And maybe it did. Khan was one of a kind, defying explanation. “This campaign you have with the blue wolves, is that because of your own heritage?”

“I certainly have an interest in their plight because I was born in Mongolia, but that’s not the only reason I want to help.” She still wasn’t sure why she felt so fiercely about this pack of wolves. Her homeland, heritage, Mongolian folklore...none of those things could quite account for the intensity of emotion this cause aroused in her.

“You must know that’s not what I meant.”

Sarange frowned. “What else could you possibly mean?”

Ged’s expression was unfathomable. It reminded her of the look in Khan’s eyes when he had called her “wolf girl” just before she initiated that devastating kiss. What is it with these people and wolves? Was it to do with the name Beast? Were they looking to use wolves for some sort of gimmick? Ged was staring at her as if she was an alien being. As if he couldn’t make up his mind what to do about her.

Enough was enough. Whatever his problem was, she really didn’t have time to spend analyzing it. On balance, she decided she was glad Ged had shown her this other side of Khan. Although her pride was still stinging, it helped to know he wasn’t the one-dimensional jerk of first appearances.

She turned toward the door. “You’re Khan’s friend. Why does he hate me?”

Ged took a last look at the lone figure. “Khan doesn’t really do friendship. And it’s not you he hates—” he flicked the switch, and the booth went silent “—it’s himself.”

* * *

Beast had won Best Band at the Rock the World Awards for the last two years. This year, when they burst onto the stage to receive the award for the third time, Khan looked out at the sea of faces in the vast audience with a feeling close to apathy. The great and good of the music industry were gathered under one roof to honor their own, but there was only one person he wanted to see. He already knew Sarange wasn’t there. If she’d been there, he’d have felt her.

They were in her town, yet she’d stayed away. It was her message to Khan. He knew she felt this invisible, unbreakable thread as powerfully as he did. By not attending this prestigious ceremony, she was showing him she was stronger than he was. She didn’t need to see him. Didn’t need the buzz that came from his nearness. This was what he’d wanted, yet the despair he felt was like a giant rock sitting on his chest. How could he miss what had never been his? All he knew was there was an aching hole in his life that could only be filled by Sarange. How was he ever going to learn to deal with this constant gnawing pain?

Beast was closing the award ceremony with a number from its new album. It was time to don his rock star persona and do what he did best...drive this crowd wild. Doing it when his heart had just been ripped out and his limbs felt like lead? That would be a new experience.

The way the band played together had always been creative and intuitive. Each member was individually talented, but when they came together they became so much more. Maybe it came down to what they’d all been through before they got together. Their music did the talking because their emotions had been shredded. From Khan’s raw yipping, screeching tones, through Diablo’s wild drumming to Finglas’s haunting bass lines, their unique sound pulsed with primal energy.

Physically they complemented each other perfectly as well. Each member of the band had his unique, onstage personality. Khan was all strutting, purring egomania. Diablo was solitary, stealthy and quick tempered. There was Torque with his quick-fire restlessness and Dev, in contrast, who remained cool and aloof. Finglas was the newest addition to the band. The young Irish werewolf had replaced Nate Zilar, the long-standing bass guitarist, and was just finding his place among the big personalities. Finglas often appeared detached, but he could raise as much hell as Khan when the mood took him. As a cast of characters, the band came together with a power that couldn’t be manufactured. Beasts in the true sense of the word, they were one of a kind.

Behind them, giant LED screens played recordings of their signature three-sixes logo, roaring flames and the snarling jaws of wild animals. The cheering audience enthusiastically demonstrated the horned sign of the beast by pointing their fingers at the sides of their heads. The number ended on a wild note when Khan climbed to the top of the lighting installation at the rear of the stage, hanging perilously by one hand as he howled out the final verse.