Primal Instincts

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Primal Instincts Page 1

by Melissa Schroeder




  Primal Instincts

  Melissa Schroeder

  Edited by

  Kelli Collins

  Illustrated by

  Scott Carpenter

  Copyright © 2019 by Melissa Schroeder

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  About Primal Instincts

  As Alpha of the Lonestar Wolf Pack and Mayor of their small Texas town, Jacob Sanderson has more than enough on his plate to handle. When women from his pack start getting killed, he knows his best resource for solving the murders is Sheriff Alexandra Littlefoot. Now, if he can keep his hands off her, everything will be fine.

  A bad shooting and the loss of a partner caused Alex to leave San Antonio. She sees being sheriff of the small town as penance for her sins. Working with Jake isn’t exactly what she would call ideal, but he insists on helping with the investigation. Close working conditions make it impossible to ignore their attraction, and one kiss leads to more than either of them expected.

  After one night together, he knows this is no casual encounter, and walking away is impossible. He knows she’s his mate, and while she isn’t a wolf, he knows she has some connection to the pack.

  As secrets rise to the surface, the killer’s violence escalates and threatens to destroy not only their fragile new love, but the entire Lonestar Pack.

  This book was previously released as The Alpha’s Saving Grace.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Melissa Schroeder

  To all the lovers of shifters and other magical creatures.

  Chapter One

  Alex came awake with a scream, the stench of death surrounding her, filling her nostrils, and causing her stomach to roil. A bead of sweat rolled down her back as she fought for a clean breath. As she gasped for air, she sat up in bed, the last remnants of the vicious nightmare fading away. It’d been chasing her for over to a year. A year she would rather forget.

  She ran a hand through her tangled hair, wincing when one of her fingers caught on a particularly nasty knot, and looked around the motel room. Early morning, sun streamed through a slit in the heavy curtains, telling her she had made it through the night, at least. Nights like last night didn’t happen that often, but since taking the job as sheriff in Sanderson, Texas, they were becoming more frequent. She hated to admit it, but her old captain might have been right about leaving San Antonio after the shooting. Running away didn’t always solve problems, but it had sounded like an option at the time.

  Absently, she fingered the scar that marred the flesh on left her shoulder. Such a small indention, barely visible if you weren’t looking for it, but it had ruined her life as she’d known it. Even now, she wasn’t ready to be philosophical about what she had gone through. It was still too fresh to ignore, the emotional aftermath of her mistake.

  Noting it was after six, she forced herself up and out of bed and into the dingy little bathroom. After turning on the shower to let the water heat, she clipped up her hair and washed her face. As she wiped away the water, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and winced. Her Native American heritage stood out starkly on her face, her high cheekbones more pronounced since she’d yet to get back to her regular weight. She couldn’t remember a time she didn’t have bags darkening the skin beneath her green eyes. Damn, but she was sick of looking at that face. There had been a time when she hadn’t looked so haggard, and she truly wanted to be there again.

  Shaking herself out of her morbid thoughts, she grabbed her toothbrush and ordered herself to get a move on. It was Monday, and Mondays were always busy.

  By the time she got into work, she had left the memory of the dream behind her and had her mind focused on Monday Morning Mayhem, as everyone at the department called it. Not that it was much of a department, with two deputies, two dispatchers and one secretary. For someone who had cut her teeth at SAPD, it didn’t measure up.

  Forget about it. This is your life now, kid.

  The scent of burned coffee assaulted her first. She’d been teased unmercifully when she first started on the force because she refused to drink the coffee. Alex viewed cop coffee as a biohazard, and figured she could endure a good ribbing rather than lose her stomach lining.

  The phones were ringing continuously, as they did every Monday morning. The townspeople of Sanderson apparently thought it too much effort to call in complaints over the weekend, and waited until the first day of the workweek to bombard them. Most of them would be nuisance calls, but they had to check out every single one. At least it gave them something to do, and her force of four officers didn’t seem to mind.

  She pulled off her cowboy hat and set it on the rack hook. Not big enough to even handle their tiny department, the office was old and in need of a good paint job. The gray walls matched the gray tiles, and the counter had seen better days. The buzz of conversation continued as if she hadn’t even come in, but she noticed Dee Dee, the secretary, waving her over. Alex turned to walk in her direction but was stopped by one of her deputies.

  “Hey, Chief, about time you got here,” Dillon Sanderson said as he sauntered around the counter. No matter how many times she reminded them that her official title was sheriff, they refused to call her anything but chief. “We already have someone in to talk to you this morning.”

  Tall, well over six feet, with the lean, athletic build that all of the Sandersons possessed, Dillon was an attractive man, and unfortunately, he knew it. Tawny hair, golden-green eyes, and a poet’s mouth, he tended to talk just about every good-looking woman under the age of forty into his bed. Alex hadn’t even ranked a flirtation. He’d been ticked when she’d gotten the job over him, but with her time in at SAPD and being seven years his senior, she’d edged him out. The fact that his cousin was mayor apparently hadn’t helped him. And wasn’t that just a bitch.

  “Gee, Sanderson, I was under the impression that I worked Saturday night for someone who had a hot date with the new waitress at the truck stop out on Highway 82.”

  Because he was still too young to hide his feelings, his face flushed with embarrassment. “Uh…yeah, about that—”

  “Give it up. Just remember not to piss on the people who watch your back,” she cautioned.

  He gave her an odd look and nodded.

  “So, who’s up to bat first?”

  He smiled. “Well, Drunk Wilbur’s wife is here. She says she wants to speak only to you.”

  “Aw, damn.” Mondays truly sucked.

  “Yeah, and this time, she’s pressing charges.”

  Alex rolled her eyes and grabbed up a report that Dee Dee had been waving in the air. A week had not gone by in the three months Alex had been there that Mi
ldred Foster didn’t attempt to press charges. Alex figured it was Mildred’s way of dealing with the embarrassment of being married to the town drunk.

  “What’s it about this time?” She motioned with her head to her office and started off, knowing Dillon would follow.

  When he didn’t say anything, she glanced over her shoulder to find him just a step behind her with a smirk on his face.

  “She claims that you detained Wilbur because of your fixation on his manly person.”

  She stopped so abruptly that Dillon ran into her back. Well, shit. Most of the town, including the mayor, would know about it before lunch. Just what she needed. The idea that she would step over the line with someone she’d arrested, let alone a man who drank to forget he was married to one of the bitchiest women in town.

  “So, let me get this straight. I arrested Wilbur, like you all do each weekend, but this time, it’s because of my lusting after him?” He opened his mouth to answer but she didn’t let him. “Wilbur, who is sixty-four and weighs over three hundred pounds? Never met a bottle of whiskey he didn’t like or a bar of soap he used properly?”

  “That’s right. Apparently, she had some worries about your…sexual preference—”

  “She thinks I’m a lesbian?” She shouted the question before she could stop herself. It had been years since she’d faced that absurdity, and that was only from a few guys she’d gone to the academy with who couldn’t talk her into bed. A lot of women had to deal with that when they had a career in law enforcement. She had ignored it for the most part, giving as good as she got to some of her fellow cadets and later to her coworkers. Once she was working on the force, no one cared. Her reputation had been stellar.

  Now, though, hearing it from her deputy was a little too much to take for a Monday—before she’d had any coffee.

  Jed, the other deputy, snickered. steely eyed When she turned her attention back to Dillon, he had no problem making eye contact. In fact, the bastard was grinning at her.

  “She’s worried. A woman like you, taking a job like this…” He motioned with his hand to indicate the minuscule office. “That just doesn’t seem right.”

  She snorted. “And what would the illustrious Mildred Foster think I should do?”

  “Marriage was mentioned, but she would feel better if you would at least date a man.”

  “Date a…” She threw her arms up in the air in exasperation. “Who the hell does she think I’ve been seeing?”

  “You haven’t been dating anyone, and that seems just a might strange,” he said in a perfect imitation of Mildred’s condescending voice.

  “I’m gonna show her strange.”

  Dillon laughed. Placing his hand on the doorframe behind her, he leaned in. “I could help you change the misconception, being friendly and all. We could drive into Marble Falls, take in a movie.”

  Okay, she could take nightmares, Drunk Wilbur, his wife calling her a lesbian and accusing her of making Wilbur her jail bitch, but she could not handle twenty-three-year-old egos. Not on a Monday morning and without any caffeine. Why did God feel the need to test her? Although Dillon was not the root cause of her anger, he was enjoying himself a little too much at her expense, and it was time to teach the little butthead a thing or two.

  “Really,” she said, deepening her voice and moving closer to him. Apparently, his hormones still hadn’t settled down since puberty, because his eyes widened then darkened with interest. This was almost too easy. He licked his lips, and she could have sworn he sniffed at her.

  “Tell you what. I’ll let you know my answer, right after I fire you.”

  He jerked his head back and all the color on his face drained. It was sad she got so much satisfaction out of doing that, but she did. Alex figured after being called a lesbian, she deserved it.

  “What the hell are you going to fire me for?”

  “Sexual harassment.”

  “Dillon.”

  The sharp reprimand had Dillon turning on his heel, almost hitting her in his bid to face his cousin, the mayor.

  One glace at Jacob Sanderson’s face, and the chilling look in his golden-hazel eyes, told her he had heard the whole conversation.

  Aw, damn, Mondays really did suck.

  Chapter Two

  The need to growl simmered in the back of Jacob’s throat as he took in the scene at the police department. The fact that his cousin was a skirt chaser was to be expected. He wasn’t fully matured, and all the Sandersons were known for their way with women. As long as he showed them respect, Jacob didn’t care.

  Still, Dillon had been raised properly, and while sex was viewed as natural and healthy, he knew not to treat women like that. The fact that he had tried to come on to his boss—and in view of everyone in the office—that was just not allowed. Respect in the workplace and in life was expected from every member of his pack.

  “Jake. Kind of early for a visit.”

  Dillon’s voice cracked. Damn, Jacob had to remind himself that his cousin was not so far along in his development. It did not excuse him, but it didn’t make it any easier. Jacob wasn’t ready to be the father figure to a young man in his twenties. But he was the Alpha and Dillon was the Omega. He had a role to play for the pack, even if it still didn’t fit him comfortably.

  “I have to talk to Sheriff Littlefoot about something.”

  And Jacob had walked in on his cousin sniffing at the woman. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence, considering Dillon, but the rage that had whipped through Jacob’s blood when he witnessed the scene had stunned him. There was a predatory edge to the anger, and that Jacob couldn’t understand. Littlefoot was not his woman, and never would be. As an employee of the city, she was completely off limits, not to mention, she rubbed his fur the wrong way. Prickly women were not his type, even if she did have the longest pair of legs he had ever seen on a woman.

  But the hair on the back of his neck bristled at the thought that Dillon was making headway with his boss. Hell, for a moment, he had almost bared his teeth in warning.

  It was inappropriate behavior on Dillon’s part, and the pup knew it from the look on his face, and the fact that he wouldn’t make eye contact with Jacob. This was one of the reasons why Jacob had filled the vacancy for sheriff with someone other than a Sanderson—or close relative—for the first time in fifty years. Dillon wasn’t mature enough, and with Morgan serving in the Army, there had been no one else qualified for the job.

  Littlefoot, for her part, slipped in front of Dillon, as if to protect his younger cousin from his anger. She settled her hands on her belt, a sheet of paper dangling from her fingers, and stared him down. It wasn’t an expression he was accustomed to from a woman—or anyone for that matter. As Alpha, he did not have people challenging him—ever.

  Just a couple inches under six feet, and with her boots on, she almost met him eye to eye. It was an odd feeling not having to look so far down to make eye contact. His gaze slipped down to her unsmiling mouth. Her full, very tempting mouth. He’d been dreaming about that mouth and what it could do to him.

  “Mayor Sanderson,” she said, pulling him out of his thoughts.

  When he made eye contact with her, Jacob was pretty sure Littlefoot knew the direction of his thoughts. Thankfully, she apparently decided to say nothing.

  “Yes?” he asked.

  “I have some business to take care of with Mildred Foster, and then I can talk to you, if you don’t mind waiting.”

  He assumed the beat of lust that pulsed through his veins was due to his anger. Their kind tended to deal with anger in many ways; one of his favorites was to fuck like crazy. But it didn’t explain why each time he talked to her, the air snapped around them. Or the fact that her voice sank beneath his skin. It was deep, throaty, like liquid sex slipping over him.

  Just that thought alone irritated him. “I do have a board meeting at nine this morning.”

  She smiled with little humor and, damn it, his libido kicked into high gear. “Yes, and I have to at
tend that as well.”

  Of course she did. She, or one of the deputies, was required to attend the monthly City Board meetings. Littlefoot had been at every one of them since he’d hired her. She was looking at him as if he was an idiot, and with his behavior, who could blame her.

  “Fine, I’ll just have a talk here with Dillon on proper respect toward women while you deal with Mrs. Foster.”

  She studied him for a second or two longer, then nodded. “Just want to remind you that if you want to beat the crap out of him, you have to do it after duty hours. Otherwise, I’ll have to book you for assaulting an officer. Probably won’t go over well in the next election.”

  Littlefoot didn’t give him time to respond, just turned to go into her office. Before she shut the door, he heard her say to his cousin, “Told you about pissing on people who watch your back.”

  When she kicked the door closed, his cousin jumped.

  Jacob heard a giggle. He glanced over his shoulder and offered the room a nasty look. Suddenly, the lot of them seemed to find something to do at the same time. He returned his attention to his cousin, grabbed him by the collar and dragged him outside. There was no need to embarrass the pup further by giving him a dressing down in front of his coworkers.

  Once they were outside, he let loose of Dillon with a shove. When he turned to face Jacob, irritation and embarrassment shone in Dillon’s eyes. As Alpha, Jacob had the right to kick Dillon’s butt. It had been inappropriate behavior, even if he wasn’t a deputy. In their Pack, women were shown respect, and many of them had powerful positions. It wasn’t like that in every Pack. In fact, some Packs made women take subservient positions even if they showed an aptitude for leadership.

 

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