Caught in Heat [Half-breed Shifter Series Book 1]

by Miranda Stowe

  Humans could control their baser instincts, and half of Riley remained very-much human, so she’d control this. She’d resist the draw thrumming through her bloodstream, growing more impatient with each step she raced.

  She quickened her pace, all four feet eating up the ground. The night rushed past her in a dark blur. Only a crescent moon lighted her way, but in this form, she didn’t even need that much illumination. She saw better, moved faster, reacted instinctively when shifted into her animal. And tonight was all about speed and precision.

  But a need unlike any she’d ever experienced before possessed her, pulsing through her cunt until she growled low in her throat. She struggled to concentrate. The sanctuary was purposely well-hidden. It was nearly impossible to locate when one was working on all four cylinders. With the roar rushing through her veins and muddling her thoughts, though, she’d require a miracle to find it.

  She’d already stopped three times to massage her pussy to the point of release, but that only seemed to double the strength of her yearning when the fever returned. If she’d stayed home, she probably would’ve climaxed her way through a dozen males by now. And loved every second of it. The need to come again grew and expanded inside her; she just wanted to—

  No! She would not let the fever consume her. She’d prevail. She’d find the sanctuary and—

  The ground under her hind leg gave way. Riley twisted to compensate and pull herself free of the hole, but sharp teeth clamped around her ankle, biting all the way to the bone.

  She howled. Her earsplitting yet scratchy cry that pierced the night could no doubt be heard by every predator within a five-mile radius. Not that she cared. The agony was brutal.

  As her body went into distress, she shifted into her natural shape, and the hairy paw caught in the trap turned into a smooth, human female foot. Naked, drenched in sweat, and panting, she curled into the fetal position until she could focus past the pain.

  She needed to free herself and escape as quickly as possible before every curious creature in the forest found her exposed and vulnerable. And ripe for the feasting. She tried to shift back into her animal, gritting her teeth and straining, but it was useless. The pain immobilized her.

  The only good thing about remaining human was that she had fingers that worked.

  She reached down in the dark, fumbling for a latch to release the spring. Moaning as each move dug the razors deeper into her ankle, she patted the cold metal trap until she found a hinge. Her fingers investigated the area. When she discovered a padlock preventing her from pulling the metal jaws apart, she whimpered, fear clogging her windpipe. This was no simple animal trap. It had been specifically designed to catch and keep prey with a functioning brain and working fingers.

  Prey like her.

  Someone was hunting shapeshifters. And they’d caught one.

  * * * * *

  Shaw Griffin jerked awake as the alarm sounded through the dim compound. He snatched his combat boots off the tabletop and pushed out of the old office chair, ignoring the sore muscles that shrieked at him for falling asleep at his desk again.

  He didn’t pause to roll his thick shoulders for a nice, relaxing stretch. There was no time.

  One of his traps had been sprung.

  After slapping off the alarm, he grabbed his shotgun from the peg where it hung on the wall and strode toward the door as he opened the action to make sure it was still loaded. When he spied a shell resting where it should be, he slung the gun’s strap over his shoulder. Grabbing a spotlight on his way, he pulled open the door. He didn’t turn on the light but found the ladder’s railing by feel.

  Grasping the sides, he hoisted himself up by his arms and began to climb. Twenty feet later, he reached the ceiling, where he grunted as he cranked on a lever and pressed open the round hatch before shoving it out of his way. After doing a chin-up to pull himself from the earth, he pushed through the hole, hefted his jean-clad ass onto the ground beside the opening and then swung his feet up after him. By the time he had the hatch replaced, he was already panting with exhaustion. Hot, moist marshy air pressed against his lungs, sucking away even more of his oxygen. Using the tail of his black t-shirt, he wiped at the sweat beaded on his brow.

  All that work and he still had to hike through the thickest part of the woods to check the trap.

  If he’d caught another opossum or raccoon, he was going to be good and pissed.

  Unable to see shit in this darkness, he itched to turn on his light but resisted the urge. There was no reason to bring any more attention to himself than necessary. He already knew these motherfuckers would be able to smell and hear him coming a mile away.

  Their fine-tuned animal senses put his pathetic human instincts to shame. Not that such a frightening fact was going to make him stop his pursuit. Clutching the darkened spotlight and patting the shotgun to reassure himself it was still there, he started his hike. Breathing evenly so his panting wouldn’t echo too far ahead of him, he paused every few steps to listen.

  It took him ten minutes to reach the spot. Before approaching the clearing where he’d set the trap, he stopped and crouched into the underbrush. Waiting until the forest returned to its usual rustle from him disturbing its environment, he lifted his ear toward the direction of the trap.

  Finally, he heard the faint sound of something struggling to break free. It wheezed in anxious exertion. It didn’t sound like a coon.

  His lips spread. Maybe he’d caught one, after all.

  Keeping alert, he waited another minute. When no other sound besides the thrashing at the trap reached his ears, he stood and vigilantly approached the area. One couldn’t be too cautious when dealing with shapeshifters. They were wily and dangerous and way too damn smart.

  When he reached a place where he could see into the clearing and yet stay relatively hidden, he paused again, waiting for his vision to adjust to the small amount of moonlight splaying down on his trap.

  The pale limbs and long dark hair took him by surprise, stealing his breath.

  Oh, shit. He’d caught a human.

  He’d expected a savage beast, saliva dripping from its fangs. Not a beautiful helpless woman, sobbing as she clawed at the trap. Seeing her reminded him too much of his sister, small and defenseless, right before that monster had torn out her throat with its teeth.

  Hailey.

  She’d needed a savior that night, just like this woman needed one tonight.

  Shaw started forward. The woman cried out a very non-human sound, a hoarse scream like a cat on steroids. Her body shorted out, showing too-quick-to-distinguish-clearly blinking images of a four-legged animal in its place, before she became fully human again.

  Jerking to a stop, he gawked.

  Not a human.

  He’d caught himself his first shifter.

  A female shifter.

  Mesmerized, he watched her a moment as she sobbed and fought the trap. Why did she remain in human form? Her animal fur would’ve provided better protection against the elements. Naked and exposed like she was, every insect and rabid beast could have a hay-day on her.

  She stopped suddenly and turned her head as if hearing something, but she hadn’t turned in Shaw’s direction. Squinting to the west of him, she called, “Hello? Who’s there? Please help me. Please. I’m hurt.”

  Shaw pulled back even further into the woods, watching and waiting to see who would step out of the trees and approach her.

  Had she led another shifter here? Maybe he could wipe two monsters off the face of the earth tonight.

  But instead of seeing a human or even a large wolf, a small four-legged animal appeared from behind some brush and entered the clearing. The woman gasped. Shaw blinked until he could make out the animal. A bobcat.

  The woman whimpered and shied back, curling away from the wild animal. “Go away,” she said. “Shoo. Bad kitty.”

  The bobcat didn’t slow its pace. Body crouched as it came forward, the creature purred low in its throat, its tongue
swathing out to lick its mouth as if it could already taste her. As it made a type of greeting-hiss, the woman lifted her head to study it.

  She eyed the animal, seemingly understanding its language. Sounding almost sick to her stomach, she moaned, “Oh, God. You gotta be kidding me. A bobcat?”

  The bobcat started toward her, and instead of shying away from it, the woman uncurled herself, her body welcoming it. She even opened her legs as if inviting the animal to come sit between her thighs.

  But in the sparse light, Shaw saw her turn her face away from the bobcat as she whimpered, “No. Please, God, no. Not a fucking bobcat.”

  Not understanding the situation but having seen enough, he pumped the gun’s action to slide a round into the chamber. The crisp sound reverberated through the forest.

  Jerking alert, the bobcat lifted its face, focusing its attention in Shaw’s direction. A split second later, it spun away and darted off, disappearing into the woods.

  The female shapeshifter snapped her legs back together and drew her knees up to her chest with a sob. “Oh, thank God,” she gasped.

  Shaw remained in his hiding spot and watched for her next move. Not that she moved much. With the exception of a couple body-seizing tremors as she wept, she didn’t budge.

  After a minute, she finally wiped at her cheeks and called, “Hello?” Her voice was thin and reedy with pain. “I know you’re out there.” She tried to turn in his direction, but it must’ve jarred her ankle because she sucked in a breath and clutched the wound.

  Something twitched inside him. His conscience? Guilt? Sympathy? Who knew, but he couldn’t just stand back and watch a woman suffer.

  Wary, he eased a step forward into the clearing when it struck him. Wolves traveled in packs. It didn’t matter how long he’d been waiting and watching; she couldn’t be out here alone. Crouching, he spun around, clicking on his light and moving it over the trees. Widening his stance and lifting his gun, ready to fight, he braced for a beast to pounce at him.

  “Where are the others?” he demanded.

  She shook her head, tears tracking down her cheeks. “Others?”

  “I know your kind. You don’t travel alone. Where…are…the others?”

  When she didn’t answer, he pointed the shotgun at her.

  “No!” she cried, jerking away from the muzzle. Her panting escalated. “You’re wrong. Please. I’m all alone. There are no others. Just me. Just a defenseless woman.”

  He snorted. “You’re no woman. I saw you shift in and out of your animal shape. You’re a monster.”

  Her back went stiff as if offended. “And you’re a shifter hunter, aren’t you? I’ve heard of your kind. You kill without thought or mercy.”

  He didn’t answer, just kept the gun trained steadily on her heart, prepared for her to try anything.

  Sniffing, she mopped at her tears. “Well, I may be a shifter, but I’m all human now. When in distress, we shift into our natural state. And my natural state is pure human. So, please don’t kill me. I’m not a monster. Just a woman. My name is Riley. Riley Bane.” Wet eyes pleading, she looked up at him. “What’s your name?”

  She was trying to butter him up so he’d set her free. If he fell for her long, batting eyelashes and opened the trap, she’d probably turn on him and slash out his throat.

  Again, he refused to speak. He’d never talked to a shifter before, never been this close to one. Well, except for that first time, and he didn’t want to think about that. Thinking about it only made him want to kill every goddamn monstrous beast out there. Didn’t matter if that beast looked like a small, helpless, hurt woman.

  “Arms up,” he commanded. “Let me see your hands.”

  She gaped. “Are you freaking kidding me?” Rolling onto her back, she spread her arms and legs wide to show him just how defenseless—and naked—she was. “Do I look like I have any weapons on me?”

  Shaw forgot to breathe. Shapeshifter or not, the woman was magnificent. Firm and slender, her supple body appealed to him on all levels. Pale under his flashlight’s glow, her skin cupped perfectly rounded breasts. The dark nipples were puckered and beaded as if begging him to take a suck. Her stomach was flat, and her waist dipped in only to flare out again at her lush hips. The hair concealing her pussy was dark and neatly trimmed. Her thighs were slender but firm; they’d be able to clutch his hips tight as he rocked into her—

  His mouth watered, his skin prickled with heat, and his dick surged to life. His entire focus narrowed on the sexy nude woman sprawled at his feet.

  Chapter Two

  The man’s musky aroma rode the breeze and wafted to her. It was like music to Riley’s nose, a symphony of decadent pleasures stealing into her nostrils. She tried to hold her breath against it, but the scent had already invaded her, plummeting down her spine and igniting out of her nipples and cunt. His rich, heady fragrance made her moan in sweet agony and arch her back, needing more.

  Suddenly, the trap’s grip on her ankle wasn’t the most pressing sensation to consume her. She closed her eyes and moaned.

  Oh, please God, not now. Not with a human. The bobcat would’ve been bad enough. It was too late to return to her village, however, and appease the ache between her legs with males of her own kind.

  This man would have to do.

  “What’re you doing? What’s wrong with you?” her captor demanded. An edge of worry laced his tone, despite his attempt to sound rough and abrasive.

  She turned her head his way. Attractive for a human, the man was tall, wide-shouldered, and rough around the edges with dark, shaggy hair, chiseled facial features, and a white scar bisecting the left side of his cheek. His combat boots, jeans and tight black shirt draped him to perfection. The scar couldn’t even detract from his looks; it only made him appear more lethal, powerful. Dominant.

  Her hormones purred, aroused. Dominant. Oh yeah, she could handle being dominated right about now.

  He returned her stare and remained perfectly still, but she could practically feel him squirming inside, uncomfortable under her intense inspection.

  He jerked his shotgun to gain her attention and make her focus on the barrel, reminding her he held the power. Not that she would forget. His authoritative demeanor only bought out the submissive desires in her. Yes, how she would love to surrender to him and let him master her.

  “Hey! I asked you a question.”

  She inhaled deeply, and nearly came undone, her eyes rolling into the back of her head and her body arching for more of his intoxicating scent. “I can smell your arousal.”

  He stumbled backward, a choked sound of shock exiting his lungs. Eyebrows lowering moodily, he scowled. “What?”

  She managed a mocking smile. “I’m an animal, remember? Heightened sense of smell.”

  He shook his head, denying it.

  To prove him wrong, she lowered her gaze to his crotch. When her stare landed on the swollen fly she knew she’d find, he reacted instantly. A burst of pheromones exploded from him, more forceful than before. If she’d been standing, the deluge of his intoxicating cologne would’ve knocked her off her feet.

  She closed her eyes tight and bit her lip to brace against the onslaught of stimulation.

  Dear Lord, who would’ve known just looking at him would turn him on so strongly?

  It blasted her in waves, like one orgasm after another. She jerked and cried out with each slap of arousal that radiated off him.

  Sweat coated her brow, and she panted in an effort to hold herself together. But, damn, if simply smelling him had this powerful of an effect on her, what would his touch feel like? How would his cock feel in her—?

  She couldn’t even finish the thought.

  Pleasure pulsed through her like an electrical shock. Her entire body bowed off the ground, only her feet and head remained. She tasted blood from digging her teeth into her bottom lip.

  Sex, sex, sex, her hormones chanted. She needed sex so bad.

  A warm, dry hand touched her brow a
s if checking for a temperature. Her eyes shot open as he hissed at the warmth emanating off her skin.

  “You’re burning up.” Worry crinkled the skin around his eyes. He pressed his palm to the side of her cheek, only to find more heat. His mouth flattened. “Where does it hurt?” All anger was gone from his voice; he sounded nothing but concerned.

  She licked her dry lips. “Everywhere,” she rasped.

  His fingers felt good. Each place a digit stroked, her body scorched and burned for more. She wanted him to move his hands, caress her neck and glide down her shoulders. Over her breasts. Her nipples.

  A hoarse groan left her mouth.

  “You’re not suffering from the trap wound alone,” he surmised, his gaze flitting down her body in search of some visual wound.

  She shook her head and squeezed her eyes closed again. “No.”

  “Then what’s wrong?” A gentle command.

  She didn’t want to tell him, but she couldn’t hide it. She needed relief soon or she’d go insane, maybe even die. She needed him. Now.

  The words left her lips in a hoarse claim. “I’m in heat.”

  * * * * *

  Shaw pulled back, snapping his hand off the woman’s skin. “What?” The question was strangled.

  The shapeshifter calling herself Riley gritted her teeth and curled her body in.

  Squeezing her eyes so tight her face went white, she chanted as if talking herself through the pain. “Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.”

  His mouth fell open as he gawked.

  Like a pregnant woman having a contraction, the agony seemed to abate after about half a minute. Her body relaxed and she huffed in short, relieved breaths. When her lashes flickered apart, she glanced up at him. “Haven’t you heard of a female animal going into heat?” she rasped. “It’s the same with shifters. Once a year, the fever comes over us, except it’s ten times more intense than what a typical animal or human experiences, especially around virile males and even more so during her first time.”

  Lips parting, he continued to stare until the words, “First time?” repeated from his lips.