Her Wolves
Candace Wondrak
Copyright 2019 by Candace Wondrak
All Rights Reserved.
Cover by Lizzie over at Pixie Covers.
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Chapter One - Violet
Two years ago, Violet never would’ve thought her life would be what it was now. Two years ago, she was completely downtrodden and utterly depressed after being broken up with by her high school sweetheart. Two years ago, she had no idea shifters existed.
As it turned out, there was a whole world out there she didn’t know about. An entire world practically begging for her to come and discover its wonders. Magic. Shifters. People who weren’t quite people.
Did she, though? Did Violet go discover anything after finding out her bosses and her new coworker were wolf shifters? No. She stuck to the diner—because really, what other job would she get without a high school diploma these days?—and tried to keep her nose down. She heard all about the age-old traditions the shifters had, because once Maia was fully healed and her ex was run from town, she thought it would be a great idea to fill Violet in on everything.
Everything.
Even the night of her claiming, which Violet so didn’t want to hear about. People going at it was one thing—though Violet still could never understand how one woman could handle all those penises at once—but people as wolves going at it? A completely different story, one Violet wasn’t a fan of listening to. Her kinks lay somewhere else.
Of course, all that stuff happened a while ago, and the claiming had only been one night. It was a one-time thing, and suddenly, after that night, Maia now belonged to Alarick, Farkas, and Grimm. She smelled like them, or something. Violet still wasn’t quite sure how it worked, and she didn’t want to know.
Because Violet wasn’t a shifter. Violet was human. One hundred percent human. She would’ve been proud of her human-ness, but with the state of the world, she wasn’t. If anything, humans messed it up more than shifters ever did.
Alarick had given her raises every time her year anniversary came up at the diner; Violet was able to save up enough money to rent a tiny house on the outskirts of town by herself. She was pretty sure it was the whole reason Alarick had been so generous with her raises; he wanted her to stick close by, wanted to take care of her. Because even though she wasn’t a shifter, she was kind of a part of his pack, friends with his girlfriend. Or wife. Or mate. Whatever the hell shifters called their partners.
Violet was envious, in a way. Maia had run from her old pack with the intention of being alone, and she somehow wound up with three dashing, manly men who would die for her. Three men who would do anything for her without a hint of hesitation.
She wasn’t so jealous of the whole penis bit, but the do anything for her part? Yeah, Violet was super jealous there.
Violet was jealous because she’d purposefully run away from her parents, from her high school, before she was even eighteen, before she was legal, all to be with Maria. And for a while, she’d been happy. But then, a week into their road trip, Maria had left her here, abandoned her without so little as an adios. Changed her number, turned off all her social media profiles. Violet couldn’t find her even if she tried to.
And she had tried; she tried everything she could possibly think of. Right after her abandonment. Right after Maria had left, Violet was a wreck. She had no one. She supposed she could’ve gone back to her family, but it wasn’t like she’d left a happy home. Her parents didn’t like her, not really. They didn’t understand her.
Mainly because Violet favored girls and not boys, mostly because she’d found it easier to connect to other girls. Boys were rude and obnoxious half the time, only in it for one thing. At least the ones she’d come in contact with in her school life.
That said, she wasn’t the type of person who could totally write someone off because of what did or did not hang between their legs. Violet needed a connection with someone before liking them. What was it called again? Demisexual? Pansexual? Was she a demisexual pansexual? Her emotions were complicated.
Yeah. It hadn’t gone over well with her parents. She’d been fifteen when she’d brought it up, when she had tried to tell them she wanted to go to homecoming with another girl. They’d grounded her, kept her from the dance, so she never went. They weren't exactly what you'd call understanding people, more ‘my way or the highway’ kind of people. The as long as you live under my roof you’ll follow my rules kind of people.
So when Violet had caught an older woman’s attention, it had been only natural to keep their relationship a secret.
Obviously, it didn’t turn out well. But then again, Violet was happy with her life right now. She had a job she didn’t hate, a boss she liked, and a good friend, even if said friend was often mooning over the two co-owners of the diner. Yuck.
It wasn’t like Violet couldn’t understand why Maia fell head over heels with the three guys. They were all very nice and very attractive, if one liked muscles and facial hair and the occasional growl. Violet herself wasn’t so much a fan. If she ever dated again, it’d be with a human. Man, woman. Neither. Whoever they were, they’d be human.
Violet was happy with the routine of her life. She worked at the diner and had quiet nights at her little house on the edge of town. Except on Wednesday nights, when she and Maia took Alarick’s truck and went into the neighboring town.
The town with an actual movie theater and department stores, AKA a real town.
But they didn’t go to town for a movie or for a shopping trip. After the whole Zak thing, Alarick had thought it best Maia learned how to better defend herself. Meaning, he wanted her to take self-defense classes. Violet was all too happy to tag along, partly because Alarick paid for the classes and partly because after learning about the existence of shifters, she felt weak. Tiny. Small. Unprepared for the things the world would throw at her.
Violet was on the shorter side of things. She always had to ask for help if she needed something off of the top shelves in the storage room. With her height, she was pretty sure she should still have a booster seat in the car or something stupid like that. At least she had the curves that separated her from looking like a kid.
Most kids these days were actually taller than her. Go figure.
So yeah, when Alarick suggested Violet go with Maia to the city, that he’d pay for her self-defense classes too, what the hell was Violet supposed to say? No, she’d prefer to pay for them out of her own pocket? No way.
Today just happened to be Wednesday, and as soon as Violet walked home, she started digging through her clothes. She wasn’t a fan of wearing baggy clothes normally, so she always threw them in a bag and changed in the building’s back locker room. Alas, she needed to do laundry.
So she dialed Maia’s number, and the shifter picked up on the first ring. “What’s up, Violet? I’m just about to head over to pick you up.”
Violet moved to her living room, kicking off her boots. She’d have to find her tennis shoes in her mountain of dirty clothes in her room. “Can you bring me some workout clothes? All of mine are dirty.”
Maia scoffed into the phone. “Don’t you have mu
ltiple outfits? We only go once a week.”
She wasn’t sure what to say. She had lots of pairs of socks and panties, so she didn’t do laundry every week like a normal person? Violet just shrugged, not like Maia could see it, though. “Just bring some, please.”
Her friend laughed. “Fine. I’ll—” There was a pause. “—I’ll find you some shorts and a shirt. I’ll be over in a few.”
Violet hung up, groaning when she stood and made her way back into her bedroom. The house she rented was tiny. Less than a thousand square feet, but it was all she needed. The rooms were tiny, but they still allowed her to amass a lot of shit. Violet was a clearance rack shopper, through and through.
She bent over, digging through her dirty clothes, nose twisting at the smell. Yeah, on her next day off, she’d definitely have to do multiple loads of laundry. The smell of grease and sweat was strong. Eventually, she found her tennis shoes, which had gone unused since the last self-defense class.
Maia arrived in twenty minutes, honking the horn. Violet ran out, locking the front door behind her before jogging up to the truck and getting in. When she slid inside, Maia handed her a bundle of clothes before driving towards the gym. Absentmindedly, Violet wondered if the clothes smelled like Maia. Shifters apparently had a good sense of smell.
Not something Violet would want, because there were a lot of nasty smells out there.
Once they were back on the road, Violet glanced to Maia. The window beside her was down, allowing her long, red hair to fly haphazardly in the wind. She wore no makeup, as she rarely ever did, and she wore a baggy athletic outfit, the same outfit she had to wear the last few weeks. She drove with a single hand, her other laid across her belly.
Her huge, round belly.
Because she was pregnant.
Super, super pregnant. Like, ready to pop.
Violet watched her for a moment, realizing Maia’s forehead was covered in sweat. “Are you okay? Tell me you’re not—” Oh, God. What if Maia started popping the baby out right here? Alarick would kill her for getting shit all over the interior of his truck. He loved Maia, but he’d probably blame Violet, somehow.
“The contractions aren’t close yet. I’m fine. I still have time,” Maia said, forcing a smile.
Violet blinked, feeling her face morph into sheer disbelief. “You really want to go to self-defense class while you're in labor?” The words felt weird coming from her mouth, almost like a sentence no one should ever have to speak.
“I’m a shifter, I can handle it.” That was Maia’s go-to when Violet questioned her on shit she should apparently already know the answer to.
“Okay, but I swear to God, if your water breaks while we’re there, I’m pretending I don’t know you,” Violet warned her. It was a reasonable thing to say, right? Babies were…so not her thing. They were too small. Too helpless. All they did was cry, sleep, and shit. Oh, and vomit.
Why the hell did people want to have them so much?
Shifters were a dying breed, Violet had heard, so she supposed it made sense they’d want Maia to pop a few out. But still. Ick. No thanks.
Maia drove them across town lines, and soon the lights of the neighboring city lit up the darkened sky, a dozen different shades of fluorescent. All the while, Violet tried her hardest not to focus on the woman with labor pains beside her. It was…a very difficult thing to do.
In fifteen minutes, Maia pulled into a parking spot, letting out a loud sigh that was a mixture of a regular breath and a groan.
Hugging the borrowed clothes to her chest, Violet was about to get out, but she noticed Maia wasn’t moving. She glanced back at her friend. “You’re not really coming in like that, are you? You should go home, go the hospital, or whatever it is you shifters do when you’re going to pop one out.”
Maia threw Violet an annoyed look, but soon the look faded. “You’re right. I can’t stand through an hour-long class like this. I’ll have Grimm come pick you up.”
Violet nodded, figuring Farkas and Alarick would be stuck to her sides like glue. Grimm would be too, but after he’d picked her up. They were loyal to her, and Violet had known them a bit longer than she’d known Maia, so she trusted them all too. She got out of the truck, waving as she watched Maia pull away.
Really, that woman should’ve known from the get-go she wouldn’t be able to come tonight. But Maia was stubborn. She was maybe the most stubborn person Violet had ever met, besides herself, and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever actually met herself, so.
Whatever.
Violet made her way inside, changed clothes, and pretended to be happy while being surrounded by strangers. If there was one thing Violet felt, it wasn’t happiness. It was…the opposite of it, really. A feeling she wasn’t quite sure how to name.
It took her the first ten minutes of class, but Violet realized what she felt, and it hurt.
Lonely.
She was lonely.
Chapter Two - Brice
Brice and his brother, Everett, arrived at the parking lot after the class had already started. The air was thick with her scent, and Brice felt his knuckles grip the steering wheel harder, anticipation hot in his veins.
This was the last one.
Claimed or not, Fletcher didn’t care. His clients didn’t care. They’d use her anyway.
What he and Everett did…Brice didn’t like to think about it. He didn’t like to picture the females as actual people; it was ten times harder doing what they had to do when he imagined them as living beings with choices and freewill of their own. But they had to. They had to keep at this in order to save her. That was the agreement.
He hoped Fletcher would stick to it.
Everett sunk in his seat, his blonde hair so light it was practically white. They were all like that, true siblings. His was a little longer than Brice’s, a little shaggier. And his eyes were a different color, too. While his were a pure blue, Everett’s were a hazel, their mother’s color.
Their mother who was now dead, just like the rest of their pack. Lost because Fletcher and his crew came and took the women. Girls and adults alike. Brice had tried to find out where they went, because Fletcher hadn’t kept them all, but when he sold them, he didn’t leave many clues.
His heart hurt when he thought about it too much, so he usually didn’t. It might’ve made him seem like an ass, but what else could he have done? What more was there to do? Things weren’t black and white. He had Ivy, and until Brice and Everett paid their so-called debt to him, he refused to let her go.
Everett had a boyish face, even though he was only younger by a single year. When he frowned though, he looked older. Too old, too weary. Brice hated seeing him like that, wished he could change the way things were, but he couldn’t.
This was their life. And it sucked.
There was no point in dwelling on it, because it wasn’t something either of them could change. They were shifters, and shifters lived a hard life. Some packs were probably lucky to keep to themselves, but other packs constantly fought with each other, taking territory and females like a precious commodity. Sometimes the women were treated like slaves.
Brice’s pack hadn’t been like that. They’d been kind and loving, nurturing and generous…which was why they were now dead, he supposed. They fought back, sure, but what hope did a gentle pack like his have against a feral pack of shifters who fought miniature wars every single day? They were never going to survive, and now all Brice had was his memories.
And his little brother. And his baby sister.
He would do anything to protect them, including sentencing other females to the fate awaiting Ivy if they refused to partake in Fletcher’s game.
Brice had long given up the notion that he was a good, decent man. He wasn’t, because what good man could sacrifice the many to save one, even if the one was his own sister? The truth was he was creating more pain and suffering in the world to save Ivy, but he didn’t care. His siblings were all he had left.
He had nothing
else, and once Ivy was free, he wouldn’t need anything else. They would go somewhere far away and live out the rest of their days. He would protect them. He wouldn’t let them fall like their pack had.
Everett had his feet on the dash, his hazel gaze out the window, staring at the building’s front doors, as if waiting for her to come out. She wouldn’t, not for a while, since the class just started. This was where Fletcher said to grab her, so this was where it would happen. “Do you think she’ll really be the last one?” he asked, his voice quiet.
Brice had a bad feeling about all of it, but still he said, “Yes.”
“I don’t trust Fletcher. I think he’ll find a way to keep her, or try to kill us before we can get Ivy out,” Everett muttered, moving to look at Brice. “I just…I want this to be over. I wish life could go back to the way it was.”
“It can’t,” Brice said, practically growling. “Life sucks. The world sucks. We’re shifters, that’s our lot in life. We can’t change any of it.”
Everett grumbled something to himself, and they waited the next hour or so in silence.
It was nine o’clock when the class let out. The humans made their way to their cars, some of them in groups, others by themselves. Most of them were immediately on their phones, an aspect of human life Brice did not envy. Being constantly connected to the world…it must get tiring. He couldn’t imagine being connected to everyone else, regardless of the time of day. It seemed exhausting.
The last one out was their target. Instead of going to a vehicle, she went to the bench near the front doors, hunched over as she pulled out her phone and called someone. Odd, Brice thought, because Fletcher’s intel said she usually drove here, but this would make things easier. All they had to do was wait and pray her ride didn’t show up before they nabbed her.
The instructor of the class walked out a minute later, locking the doors behind him. Brice watched with a glare as he went over to Maia and asked if she needed a ride. Even though Brice and Everett were fifty feet away, they could both still hear them talk perfectly.
Her Wolves: A Reverse Harem Romance Page 1
