Lords of the Hill: BBW Werewolf Erotica (Smut-Shorties Book 3) by Mina Carter Page A

she passed by and headed through the main gates into the main part of the manor. If she was lucky, she’d be able to get some great shots of the interior before the light faded too much.
    *
    “She touched me! Dude… Dude, wake up! She touched me. She touched me! ”
    Laverne jumped, yanked from sleep by the excited shouts of his fellow alpha right into his telepathic ‘ear’. With a groan, he tried to open his eyes and found that he couldn’t. A quick scan with his senses informed him it was a little before sundown. Way too early for Darrick to be getting so worked up.
    “Verne… Dude! Wake up! She’s here!”
    “No need to shout,” Verne grumbled, trying to stretch in his stone prison. He knew it was hopeless, but he tried anyway. Neither of them could move until the sun had disappeared below the horizon. “What’s got your knickers in a twist? Who’s here?”
    “She is!” Darrick, younger than Verne by twenty years, going on a thousand, almost shouted back. Verne winced. At this rate he’d be deaf before sundown. “Her. You know… The One!”
    The One.
    The words got Verne’s undivided attention. They’d been cursed years ago. Locked in stone by day and men by night. All because a witch-bitch had decided that if she couldn’t have him, then no one could. She’d decreed that only when a woman loved them both, would the curse be lifted. Both . What woman would be strong enough to take on two alphas?
    “Are you sure?” Verne stretched his limbs, straining his muscles to test his prison. There was the slightest hint of flex. The sun must be almost set by now. Other senses filtered back. There was someone in the manor. The light footsteps of a woman, then a female voice lifted in song.
    Verne winced. It was the most god-awful thing he’d ever heard. “Oh my god, she sings like…”
    “A duck with a cold,” Darrick finished, his voice echoing the pain that racked Verne. Both were accomplished musicians so to hear someone butcher music in such a way was painful.
    “Yeah…” The moment they’d both been waiting for arrived. The sun went down and their stone forms vanished with a loud ‘crack’ leaving them both on the pedestals either side of the manor’s main gates. Didn’t manner where they were when the sun rose, they always ended up on these damn pillars of rock. He hated them with a passion.
    Verne uncoiled himself inch by slow inch. The cold went all the way to his bones making his joints creak, but he stood, more or less gracefully. Darrick shot upright from a tiny ball and promptly fell off his pedestal.
    “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Verne grumbled. “Don’t break anything.”
    He needn’t have worried. Darrick bounded to his feet with enthusiasm, crossing the distance between them. His face broke into a smile.
    “I don’t care that she can’t sing,” he admitted, a sparkle in his eyes for the first time in years. “Don’t even care what she looks like… Or if she likes pickles. I…” he paused, his expression slipping for a moment to show the misery within. “I just want someone to love.”
    “I know, mate.” Verne looped his arm over Darrick’s shoulders and gave him a quick squeeze. “How about we go find her?”
    The two turned and headed into the manor. Verne lifted his head as a delicious scent wrapped around him. He breathed in, holding his breath deep in his lungs just in case he never smelled it again. His body came alive, blood heating in an instant and his cock punching to full mast. Now that he had her scent he knew what Darrick meant.
    She was the one. Their mate had found them.
    At his side, Darrick moaned. A low, guttural sound of sensual pleasure. One Verne had heard before. As the ruling alphas in this area, they’d shared many a woman in hedonistic nights filled with carnal pleasures. But he’d never heard that level of pure need behind it.
    “She’s perfect, just perfect.”
    Verne’s lips quirked as he picked up the pace. Scent and sound made it