Greyriver Shifters

by Kristina Weaver

  “Tow?”

  “For your car. The one that’s out of gas,” I remind her, watching her blink over behind me and lick her lips.

  “Yes. It’s out of gas,” she breathes out the words, her eyes winging their way back to me as she takes a step closer, making me take one back again and pray to God she doesn’t look down and see my crotch.

  I think I’d scare the shit out of her right now if she—

  She looks down, and I flush bright red, my cheeks heating when she sees my cock sitting behind my zipper, the size and girth making a lump the size of a goddamn arm.

  It’s obvious as hell I’m hard, and I expect Cass to turn and take off running again, her earlier fears breaking her from her trance and sending her sprinting. Part of me is praying for just that, but the female surprises me by moaning low in her throat and taking another step closer to me.

  “Smell so good,” she sighs, sniffing the air while advancing.

  I feel panicked, afraid, desperate and fighting with myself, as I step back again and look behind me, wondering if it would kill me to turn and run like a coward.

  Not that I am one usually, but I have no experience with this sort of thing. I’ve only ever had two sexual experiences, despite what most people think, and I’m almost painfully shy when it comes to females, a result of being rejected so many times when I was young I just figured I would stop trying.

  This female is… Jesus, she is gorgeous, I think, taking in the caramel highlights streaked through her flowing brown hair and the strangely blue, almost purple hue of her eyes.

  Eyes that are heavy lidded and focused on me the way a starving man focuses on a feast.

  “Is that cologne? Hhhmm, I like it,” she purrs, making my dick twitch behind my zipper in a frantic bid for freedom.

  I’m so horny right now I would kill to get my hands on the soft curves revealed by her tight jeans, the fabric outlining thighs that look like two cushions that would cradle my hips perfectly. And that ass, oh God, I have always loved a nice handful of ass on a female, and being as I’m six five and have hands the size of frying pans, that would be a big ass.

  Cass has that, in spades, two glorious bubbles that held my gaze when she was running from me, the bounce and clench of the globes making my mouth water for a taste and—

  “Oh, God. I need,” she moans when I snap out of my trance to see her coming at me with such intent I swallow and almost fall over my feet getting away.

  “No! Uh, I mean, we need to get you into town. Logan! Goddammit. Stop laughing and uh, and take Cass into town please!” I bark, the plea in my voice making me groan silently when he blinks and throws his head back, laughing so hard I feel my bear snarl a warning.

  “Oh Jesus, this is priceless,” he mutters, coming closer to take Cass’s arm, the sight of his hand on her making me feel feral with possessive anger.

  No! No possessive anger. She is human, Banner. A tiny human, who is not, not, not for you. So what if you smell her and she’s your Fated? She can’t be. This isn’t right! I’d fucking break this tiny little doll in two if I ever put my hands on her.

  Factor in shifter sex, which is by definition rough no matter how tender we try to be and well, I’d probably kill her if I got anywhere near her.

  Breathing deeply, I shove at my animals, grinding my teeth to push them back far enough that my biology doesn’t cloud my every thought.

  Think Banner! Think. She’s too small. Too delicate. You can’t touch the human.

  Once the reminder is there, along with the reminder that I am a big bastard with not one scrap of gentleness in me, I am able to think coherently and stop wanting to lunge to get at her.

  Once I’m in control, I turn to Logan and give him a look, warning him silently not to even start. Cass meanwhile is whimpering and rubbing her thighs together, the confusion on her face making me feel like a bastard because I know exactly what she’s feeling right now.

  Cursing myself for losing control and scenting her, I watch her body tremble with arousal and smell the subtle perfume that wafts from between her legs.

  Oh yes, she’s in the beginning stages of heat right now, probably so wet and needy between her legs I would slide into her like a hot knife through—

  Stop it. Goddamn you, Banner. Just stop thinking about taking her! I yell silently, firming my jaw when she blinks up at Logan and back at me, seeming bewildered.

  “You’re staying?”

  I take in her sad tone, the way her eyes glisten, the whimpering quality in her voice, and it takes everything inside me to stop from stalking to her and wrapping her in my arms.

  My instinct is possession, comfort, protection, and it’s not easy to deny myself when her lip quivers and she seems to struggle with thought.

  “I have to stay,” I answer, my voice coming out as a grated rasp, the bear roaring when I ignore her confusion and melancholy and step back further.

  “I…I think I may be having some trouble. I feel funny.”

  Logan frowns at me, his eyes glowing with censure when Cass raises a hand to her head and rubs at her temple as if trying to center her thoughts.

  “It’s okay, little female. I think you’re just overtired and in need of a comfortable place to rest. Come, I’ll take you to meet my ma—my wife, and she’ll get a bed ready for you,” he soothes, taking her arm and turning her away.

  It physically hurts to stand still and not go after her when she looks over her shoulder pleadingly, those eyes taking me in with a sense of desperation that I ignore by turning on my heel and walking away quickly, my strides taking me to the beat-up little car she rode in here with.

  “I don’t have much money. I…I feel so funny. Why do I feel so confused?”

  I hear them still, even though when I turn back to look at Cass, it’s to see Logan grab her into his arms and lift her so that he is practically running with her to remove her from my scent trail.

  “Don’t you worry about that, preza. We don’t want your money,” he soothes, his use of the name “little one” making her sigh, almost as if she understands the endearment.

  “So tired.”

  “I know, preza. You rest and let me help you,” he soothes. “We’ll look after you.”

  I don’t hear the rest of what he says because his loping is all-out running now, especially when we both hear a feral howl and the sound of running breaks through the stillness.

  Oh shit.

  I start sprinting back the way I came, fast, so fast I hardly feel the asphalt under my feet. Logan is pushing, his low rumbling growl reaching me, as I push faster and run towards them just as a dark shape bursts through the trees directly to his right.

  Lync.

  Fuck.

  Picking up the pace, my legs and lungs burning, I dive at the last minute, my desperation filling every atom. I slam into Lync, right before he can reach them. My size and weight for once act in my favor when I take him down and we hit the ground.

  The impact dazes us both for long seconds, and I shake my head to clear it, aware enough to shove both hands into Lync’s shoulders to keep him down.

  Logan is long gone, having cut through the trees with a speed that would be shocking to Cass if she was not so confused. Once I smell his distance, I grab Lync by the shoulders and release my anger, slamming him into the ground with a roar that is all anger, teeth, and male warning.

  My female! Mine.

  My bear roars, trying to break free and rip him apart for so much as daring to sniff her scent while my wolf paces and howls, growling low in his throat. Both animals want to kill Lync, savage the male for coming at Cass, but I keep them contained long enough to glare down at the feral, taking in his condition.

  It’s only when he whines, submitting to my strength that I can clear my vision enough to look down and really see him.

  Jesus.

  He looks half starved, dirty, the fur that half covers his face and chest matted with dirt, old animal blood, and leaves. The rest of him isn’t any he
althier, and I can smell from the wound on his leg that he’s probably been injured at least once out here.

  Hannah, goddamn you. This is why Nick refused to release Lync for almost six years when we didn’t see any change in him.

  Feral males, especially those who half shift and remain that way for this long, are not aware enough to let loose on the world.

  For centuries many shifter packs have killed any males who became feral, thinking that it was kinder to do that than allow them to roam free outside the pack, where they were likely to be harmed by hunters or humans and also harm themselves.

  They’re wild, almost ruled by their animal and too untamed to care for themselves properly. Granted, if Lync had shifted fully into his wolf, he’d be able to roam the lands, hunt and live a decent life, but because he hasn’t, because he’s feral and trapped in a half-shift state with his animal ruling and some conscious part of his human stopping the full change, he’s vulnerable.

  After his Fated was killed and Lync went feral, our Alpha Nick locked him in the cells under his home, refusing to kill the male outright because he is family, but unwilling to let him loose where he could be hurt, or worse…hurt others.

  About three months ago my brother Logan’s mate, Hannah, released Lync from the cells because she believed freedom would call him back to reality and calm the feral fever inside him.

  I believed too, wanting to maintain hope that Lync, my old friend, is still somewhere inside him. Three months have passed and I now doubt that any hope is left.

  Looking down at the male, I feel a sadness and grief that should have died years ago when I first lost him to feral fever.

  “Female,” he says and growls, the threatening tone making my own animals growl right back, their instinct to protect our female rising strongly.

  “Mine.”

  Lync goes still, cocks his head to the side and whines, as if he can’t understand what I’m saying.

  “Female. Logan.”

  Hearing him say Logan’s name gives me pause, the very fact that he recognizes Logan at all and is vocalizing it makes my eyes narrow as hope shoots through me.

  “He’s taking her into town. She’s uh, sick.”

  “No sick. Heat!” he snarls, baring his teeth at me with a growl.

  Yeah, yeah I get it, okay? I scented Cass, and she’s probably ready to climb the walls right now. I should be there with her, touching her, breeding the heat right out of her.

  Just thinking it, I conjure an image of her naked, her legs spread, and all that juice and softness—

  Christ!

  “She’ll get over it. I didn’t touch her. Stop snapping at me, man. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

  “Paaaaaain!” he roars, making me blink and scrub at my hair.

  “She’ll fall asleep. Hannah will drug her long enough to get through it without pain. Stop!” I bark when he goes to throw me off, his nose sniffing at the air.

  “I. Help.”

  “You are coming with me, you mangy bastard, and if you so much as fucking sniff at my female, I will rip your heart out of your ass!” I warn, grabbing his arm to help him up.

  “Female. Hurt,” he whimpers when the scent of Logan and Cass is almost completely gone, his head turning as he sniffs at the air and whines.

  “She’s fine! It’s just a little arousal. She’ll get through it and leave town just as soon as her car is fueled and she’s rested,” I assure him, keeping a strong grip on him, as I start making my way toward the woods, in the direction of my own house on the eastern outskirts.

  I’m relatively far out, not close to any neighbors, so hopefully I can stash Lync at my place without any interference. At least until I can get the stubborn bastard to shift to skin fully and start thinking clearly.

  It looks like maybe Hannah was right; he’s not full feral anymore. I just hope that means he’s starting to come back and that I won’t have my ass chewed out by my Alpha if he finds out I’m concealing a male I’m supposed to be hunting to bring back to his cell.

  Fuck.

  Lync follows me easily, much more easily than I would have expected, and by the time we reach a clothing stash, something that most of us leave around the woods because we may need to shift back into skin and need some clothes, he almost seems eager to come with me.

  “Yours?”

  I shake my head and sigh, helping the idiot dress and lead him off in the direction of my home, trying not to think about Cass or the real fact that I just sent my Fated away with my brother.

  Cass is…a Fated. She is a female, who my animals recognize as our true mate. She is the one female that I am supposedly destined to meet and love above all others. Sort of like Mother Nature’s equivalent of a soulmate.

  If I believe that stuff, which I do but don’t really want to, then I am as much hers as she is mine. Not that I don’t want a Fated, because for a male like me who is shit at the whole sex and dating game, it is a Godsend.

  Except that she is human. She is weak and would never stand up under the pressures and dangers of mating a male with not one, but two dominant animals.

  “Yours!”

  “Yes! Dammit, she is mine. But I can’t have her, okay? She’s tiny. Fragile. Human. I’d fucking kill her if I ever bred her,” I say and snarl, chuffing my frustration when he falls in beside me, his lumbering gait and stooped posture making me think of those mangy werewolves humans have seen around from time to time.

  Crazy bastards.

  “Yours. Yours. Get.”

  “I’m not getting her, Lync! Didn’t you just hear a word I said? I can’t have her she’s human.”

  “Fated.”

  “So what! That doesn’t mean shit. I have two animals inside me. Can you imagine what they’d do to her if I ever mounted her? Christ!” I rasp, swallowing at the thought of pushing her onto her knees and sliding into her from behind like the animal I am.

  She’d be so hot and wet inside, so tight around my—

  Lync chuffs, pulling me from the fantasy, and I chuff back my own irritation. I get it, okay. The guy doesn’t understand my denial, and it makes me feel terrible knowing that he lost his Fated, someone he wanted with his every heartbeat while I just found her, alive and oh so perfect, only to deny the call.

  It’s for her own good.

  “It’s for her own good.”

  “Fated!” he says and snarls.

  Christ.

  “Shut up and be warned, my house isn’t exactly a palace,” I mumble when we reach the yard and he looks up.

  I have a large place that I built with my own two hands when once upon a time I actually thought I would meet my female and fill it with young. I have eight rooms, seven bathrooms, and a kitchen I once thought my mate would love me for providing.

  Now the place is filthy, filled with old pizza boxes and beer cans, and most days it’s a struggle to bother picking up laundry and washing it. I usually just buy more to save myself the effort.

  Lync whines when I open the door and usher him in, even his feral side blinking when he sees the house.

  “I agree. If you know how to clean have at it, otherwise shut your mouth and get your ass upstairs to a shower. You reek.”

  He huffs and obeys, taking the stairs two at a time like a bent version of those movie wolves, the skulking pose giving me the chills. At least he listens though, I tell myself, shutting the door and eyeing the fridge with a sigh.

  Beer for dinner it is.

  Chapter Three

  Cass

  I wake up with the certainty that a leprechaun snuck into my room and tap-danced on my uterus with spike heeled clogs and a very malicious glee for causing internal injury to females.

  Rolling over to my side, I crack a lid open and see a large room with wood walls that remind me of a log cabin but are so smooth it must have taken whoever built it weeks to get it just right.

  The rest of the room is just as impressive when I scan the place. I see a huge fireplace across from the foot of the big b
ed that is made of huge stones that are varying shades of white grey.

  I blink, not quite understanding how I got here or why in the hell I would be here since I can’t afford a roach infested shithole of a motel room, never mind some place that is the lap of luxury.

  Not that I’m complaining after some of the places I’ve slept in the last few weeks, even my own beat-up car, but this just doesn’t seem right. Blinking the fog out of my eyes, I slowly push up in the bed, wincing when my lower abdomen protests the move and lets off a shrieking scream when my insides quiver.

  God, I hurt. Inside. As if some sadists took a bottle brush to my uterine lining and decided that an acid bath was the way to go afterwards. It hurts, and while it’s not “oh my God I’m dying” pain, it is tender enough that I wonder how my vagina can even be feeling…needy.

  Jesus. There is definitely something wrong with me.

  Starting with how I got here and why I can’t remember.

  Shifting over again, I push my feet off the side of the bed, muttering a curse under my breath when I have to jump down to reach the floor. Who lives here, giants?

  Once I’m vertical and not in danger of tipping over, I walk around the room and enjoy the décor. I like white and blue, my two favorite colors in a bedroom and the exact colors I had in my own room before I—

  The thought stops dead when information hits me, and I have to grab at the wall when it blinks in and out like flickering lights. I left Cali because of Gregor, the guy who was my boss but turned out to be a werewolf. I ran away and have been running ever since he called my phone and told me he’s going to find me.

  Jesus.

  I must be the only person I know of who not only saw a real live werewolf but also acquired said mythical creature as a stalker. If it’s even true, something I am still trying to convince myself never happened. Who knows? It could have been a bad, red, hot, chili-pepper-induced hallucination. And I’m not even talking about the band here.

  Oooor, it could be true, my subconscious purrs, the creepy quality she injects in her voice giving me the willies.

  Shaking it off as semi loss of sanity, I focus on the rest and sigh when I remember bits and pieces of last night. I was driving, and I ran out of gas, no amount of hope being able to keep the empty car going. I met…two guys on the side of the road, and after screaming like a ninny and running for my life, one tackled me to the ground and…he smelled soooo good.