Greyriver Shifters

by Kristina Weaver

  “Six years! You lied for six fucking—”

  “I lied a lot longer than that, Bee. The moment I knew you were mine I knew I couldn’t have you. My family hates your kind, your family hates mine, and the things that have been happening in our packs have been a nightmare to fix. I left you alone because I knew you weren’t ready to face all of that with me. So, I got rid of it. All I’m asking now is that you take the normal life I have to offer and love me back. Just a little. I can live with less than what I want if it means having some part of you,” I whisper.

  “Awww, that is so sweet it’s sick! Take him back, Beeber! Only a male who is truly in love would ever say such embarrassing shit in front of a roomful of people!” Hannah yells, snickering when I throw her a filthy look.

  Beebee sighs and looks down at me with a rueful mix of amusement and annoyance.

  “You’re not supposed to make this hard,” she mutters, stroking a hand over my face. “I planned it all out so that if you ever came back, I’d kick you in the balls—”

  “Mission accomplished,” I say on a groan, my balls still throbbing.

  She giggles, biting her lips and shakes her head as she gazes down at me, her eyes soft.

  “I was gonna tell you that I found myself another male, and you could kiss my ass.”

  “Never!” I snarl, my aggression going molten hot at the thought of any male coming near mine.

  Mine.

  Yeah buddy, I know. I am right there with you, wolf.

  She smiles, a soft look that makes my heart beat for the first time in days and leans down to whisper in my ear.

  “Let’s get out of here, hero. It seems your sperm got me off the hook with a slap on the wrist.”

  “Can’t imprison a pregnant female!” Nick booms happily, making me laugh.

  “I need to build us a house,” I mutter, rising to my feet when she tugs at me.

  I’m towering over her now, my hands going to her face, as I stare down at her and feel everything settle into place. Finally. I may have to keep going with this investigation—Hell, I pray it isn’t Blain—but I’m done holding off with my life, my mate.

  I’m finally done and now it’s time to take what is mine.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Beebee

  I scream, panting through the climax as Brig pounds into me from behind, his hips slamming into my ass with every forward motion of his hips.

  “Brig.”

  “It’s okay, mischia, just feel it,” he grinds out through clenched teeth, his face going hard, as he fights his animal and keeps pumping into me, his teeth grazing my flesh, tongue flicking out to lick at the mark he made on me hours ago.

  I’m in heaven, hell, absolute bliss as he fills me up with his cock and takes me to a plateau of such pleasure I stiffen again and explode around him, climaxing with yet another wave of glorious release.

  Brig pumps for another few seconds before his teeth pierce me and I feel him come, the hot jets of his seed pouring into me while his essence seeps into my blood, satiating something inside me more than even the pleasure can.

  Sighing, I groan when he pulls out of me and falls to the bed beside me, his chest heaving after hours of non-stop lovemaking that is…

  “I can’t move. Stop checking me out again; you’ll make my dick hard,” he says on a groan, chuckling when I scoff and roll over, my hand going to his chest.

  “Don’t blame me for your hours long sex marathon. It’s all on you.” I giggle, gasping when he rolls over onto me and grins down at me playfully.

  “Me? Who had her mouth on my cock just seconds after the first round?”

  I blush, grinning when he groans and presses his shaft into my hip, the proof of his insatiable appetite making me purr with anticipation.

  “Is it my fault I like it so much?”

  “I thought it was so small even wolves wouldn’t bother with it.”

  My mouth twists into a guilty grin, the memory of my anger and absolute joy making me bite my lip with the smallest smidge of shame.

  Okay, so his dick isn’t’ small. He deserved the embarrassment though.

  I had to stand in front of a whole council seating and explain what I had done, why I didn’t think I should go to prison, and then, the most embarrassing of all, I had to tell people that technically they couldn’t lock me away because I am carrying the seed of a Seers, my Fated.

  And then, well, it came out that I had been Fated for years, unbeknownst to me, and that he just happened to have skipped off to Alaska, leaving me a single mother of an illegitimate young.

  That sucked hard. It humiliated me, and…and I would have killed Brig if he hadn’t shown up when he did because even my daddy started crying when my tears started flowing.

  I laid it on a little thick, not my proudest moment, until I scented Brig and realized…he came back for me.

  Right there I have never ever felt so much joy. It was like my movie moment had finally arrived and I was getting my Casablanca moment—only this one was happy. I was getting the male for my happy ending.

  Still had to kick him in the balls. I mean, even I get shamefaced when my mama, the emotional queen of crying, tells me I’m embarrassing her with my wailing. And wail I did, the longer I waited without Brig showing up.

  “Maybe you could stop reliving kicking me in the nuts long enough to tell me you love me,” he grumbles when I start giggling, as I have been doing since I convinced him to bring me home and sex me.

  Pregnancy hormones are a bitch.

  “I can’t help it. You sounded like a puppy whining when you fell and clutched your nuts. It was priceless,” I quip, giggling when he growls and shoves a hand over my sex, his palm rubbing my clit possessively.

  “This little lady would be very unhappy if you’d kicked harder and damaged me.”

  I sigh, conceding the point, because losing all this hot sex would suck a lot.

  “Did I tell you that I love you, and I am super happy my cougar fertility mojo got me pregnant and we’re finally having a young?” I ask, going serious because I need him to know I mean this.

  No joking, no subterfuge and trying to hide my feelings. I am happy. I am loved. I feel as if every single lie and moment of pain has led to this, and it’s better than anything I could have dreamed of.

  “I love you too, mischia, and I am very pleased you are carrying my young. But before we get sappy and end up tearing each other apart with pleasure again, I need to tell you something. My father—was not the guy.”

  I blink, sitting up as shock courses through me, because now that I know the whole story and how Brig and Jock have been infiltrating the resistance to find the leader…I…it’s like being hit by a hammer hearing that it isn’t over.

  “But—”

  “It wasn’t him, Beebee. Trust me. I have known that man and everything he has up his sleeve for years. I think he was set up.”

  “Oh God. You mean, I have to feel bad about being happy Logan killed him?” I ask, horrified because, well, I don’t, and I don’t know how I’ll pull it off feeling this happy about it.

  Brig grins, pulling me down into his side and shakes his head.

  “You don’t need to feel bad because… Why are you crying, Beebee? Stop. Oh shit. Are you okay? In pain?” he says, panicking when I cry harder the more he tries to calm me down.

  “It’s just so saaaaaad. Poor, Damon! He didn’t even see it coming. Can you imagine the fear he must have felt?” I wail, my emotions getting the better of me.

  I shouldn’t even care, and yet, all I can think about is what he must have felt right before he got his throat ripped out. Poor, poor Damon. I mean, he deserved to die for all the bad things he’s done, but not for something he didn’t doooo!

  “Stop. The male wasn’t going to escape justice for long, not the way he’d been going with his plans to harm Nick.”

  “I knooooow. But…but it’s not fair. Who is…was…I mean, how?” I ask, swiping at my nose with the sheet while Brig
winces and shifts the fabric away.

  “I’m working on that, baby. No, don’t get all tense on me. I’ll find out what I have to, but for all intents and purposes, we’re just a plain mated couple who are expecting a young. No more spying or espionage or any of that stuff, okay? And you can’t tell anyone.”

  “But Hannah—”

  He cuts me off with a grin and a hand over my mouth, his eyes twinkling with glee.

  “Let me show you a trick Logan taught me.”

  And that’s how I find out that the only way to keep Hannah Kilter out of your head and send her screaming for mercy is to sing the one song the cold-hearted bitch can’t stand.

  Justin Bieber’s Baby oh.

  I’m still laughing hysterically when Brig flips me over and pushes into me, his own smile shining down at me when my giggles turn into moans.

  “God, you tempt me to do wicked things to you, my female,” he says, as he growls, making me shiver and lick my lips seductively.”

  “Go ahead, Fated.”

  # # # #

  Banner

  I hear the howl split the night, the absolute stillness of the woods making the sound carry in an eerie way that has me tensing as I shift into my bear and start loping towards it, intent on finding some sign of Lync this time.

  I’ve been at this for weeks now, my one objective to find that crazy-ass feral and find a way to get him to shift completely into skin and come home with me where I can talk him out of his crazy.

  I haven’t managed it yet though, and God knows I’ve spent enough time searching.

  Not that I have anything better to do with my time, not after everyone I know has mated or is dating or just plain busy having sex. Unlike me.

  Most people look at me and assume I’m a male whore, that I sleep around and chase tail, because that’s the impression I give them. The truth is, I’ve had sex twice in my life and haven’t felt the need to do it again.

  I’m naturally shy, something I work hard to hide because most females are either afraid of me or don’t like me once they look at me. So I keep to myself, put on a show every now and then, and just try to live my life without all the bullshit that everyone else seems to run towards.

  I want a female, I do, but if getting one involves sleeping around and flirting, well then, I’m shit out of luck because every single time I try, I end up falling flat on my face.

  I wish I could just shake off the loneliness though. That’s the only part of this life that truly gets to me. I hate the loneliness. I just want one person who I can talk to, someone who won’t judge me or be afraid of me because I have two animals and both are capable of taking on full-grown shifters at any given time.

  And winning.

  In my own pack, females tend to steer clear of me, listening to their parents when they tell them I’m the bogeyman of shifters and I’d kill them with one swipe of my paw.

  Now I’m as likely to have a female run screaming when she sees me as I am of clearing a room in a second flat. Even my own brothers believe that I wrestled control of my animals years ago and only shift into one or the other.

  The truth is that if I allowed it, I could shift into both at the same time and kill a pack without blinking. Sometimes, I want to. Just to release all the pent-up emotions that having two animals leaves me with.

  Running towards Lync, wherever the bastard is, I shove all that crap away and focus on this one thing, finding a male who needs my help. When two hours pass without one sighting and the scent starts to fade, I stop and chuff out a breath of frustration, snarling when Logan’s wolf lopes up to me and he shifts, grinning when I huff and follow suit.

  “You still trying to find that bastard? I told you, Ban, he’s not ready to be found,” Logan mutters, rolling his eyes when I grunt.

  “He’s not a fucking animal. He shouldn’t be living out here in the cold snow with no one to talk to. He needs civilization to get his mind back.”

  I should know. Sometimes the only thing keeping me tethered to sanity are the things that I force myself to see and the comforts that I enjoy too much to give up.

  “Well, any which way, I don’t think it’s healthy to be out here every spare minute searching. You need sleep.”

  “I need to find him. Who knows what he’ll do if some unsuspecting idiot stumbles into this part of our territory. That male could lose his shit,” I say for the hundredth time, shivering at the thought of that male going after someone.

  Logan laughs, as usual, his shoulders shaking when we hear another howl and smell a scent that has me running before I can form a thought.

  Human. Female. Mine.

  BOOK FOUR

  Chapter One

  Cass

  I look down at the gas gauge and groan, biting into my lips as nerves and frustration hit me.

  “Goddammit! Just a few more miles, baby.”

  I plead with my old, beat-up Civic, tightening my hands around the wheel as if my prayers and touch alone will force the piece of shit to get me a few more miles further down the deserted road.

  I can’t afford to stop now, not out here in the dark with nothing to help me. I ditched my phone about two days ago when the calls kept coming and I realized that he could track me that way and then stretched my meager budget even more by backtracking in the opposite direction.

  I’m still so pissed at myself for that mistake that I kinda feel like I deserve to get stuck on this lonely stretch of dark road with nothing but the woods as scenery, as a punishment for being so damn stupid.

  I’ve been on the lam for exactly three weeks now, and I still have no idea what I’m doing. Most days I find a truck stop to pull into when the sun starts setting because I know that I would rather break down in the middle of the day than to drive all night and end up a statistic.

  I’ve already come so close to filling that spot it isn’t funny. Well, it shouldn’t be—except that I really am pissed at myself, so I take some sort of sick amusement out of my suffering lately.

  Not that I’m a masochist—but come on! I brought this on myself with my stupidity and that damn blind faith my mom was always accusing me of. I’ve brought myself to this point and I have no one to blame but me. Moreover, I have no one to go to for help, something I should have considered before opening myself up and making myself vulnerable.

  I’m just coming around a curve in the dark, winding road when the car makes a sputtering sound and jerks, the soft whine making me groan when it gives a lurch that throws me against the wheel.

  I hit my head with a bang and spring up just as I come to a stop altogether and everything shuts off, the lights going out as if to add insult to injury.

  “Shit. Fuck. Sonofasomethingthatmomwouldn’tdaresay!” I yell, slamming my hand into the wheel and collapsing back against the seat with a sob of mirth.

  I am so freaking screwed right now. So screwed.

  Opening my eyes after a few deep breaths to stop myself from screaming, I peer out of the windshield and mutter another string of curses because, hell, it is pitch black outside but for a full moon that is so clear and bright I feel a shiver work its way down my spine.

  I am stranded. Literally up crapper creek with no paddles and a hole in the bottom of my boat and…

  It’s all on me because I convinced myself twenty miles ago that I could save some money for a motel room and Jesus would help me with gas. I should have known he was calling it after the second time he got me to a town without so much as a fume left in the tank.

  But that’s what I’ve been living on for that last three weeks, and God help me if a part of me isn’t still hoping that the Big Man will throw me a bone here.

  Sighing, because I am probably delusional at this point in time, I peer around the deserted road and close my eyes in silent prayer before pushing my door open and getting out.

  Yep. I’m so screwed, and now I have to use what little strength I have left to get my car onto the shoulder because the craptastic piece of garbage broke down in exactly t
he wrong spot.

  With my luck, someone will come around the curve and end what is left of the only thing I have in this world. Grunting, I lean in to release the brake and put my shoulder into it, wheezing as I try to push and steer at the same time.

  I swear to God it takes me forever and a day to get my heap off the road, and I fall into the driver’s seat sweating like a pig and so out of breath it galls me.

  In a perfect world, I’d have enough money to live a life where I work out for fun instead of being an unfit car potato whose only aim in life is not to pass out behind the wheel because I’ve started spending food money on gas and…

  I giggle, my hysteria bubble bursting because that is just so fucking pathetic! I can’t even afford gas, a place to live, food, and those are the things that I need to live. What the hell is the use of running to survive if I’m going to be the asshole that dies of starvation, pushing her car across the country, because I can’t drive it on air?

  I laugh until my sides ache and end on a sob, burying my face in my hands when it all just hits me. I am officially broke. I have exactly thirteen dollars and fifty cents left in my shoe; the nearest town is still a few more miles on this pitch black road; and even if I get there, by some miracle, I can’t afford a room or even food.

  I have nothing but this car, my hastily packed bags, and a cactus in a pot that I stole from the office when I decided to leave. And right now…I feel it all, as I try to catch my breath and wipe away the wetness from my cheeks.

  I should just give up and use my credit cards, say to hell with running and make a stand, but fear holds me back so hard that I feel a panic attack try to surface.

  It’s been this way since Gregor came at me, and no amount of time will stop the memories.

  I can’t stop. I can’t be caught, or God knows what will happen to me.