by Zoey Harper
Red Claw Alpha
Red Claw Rising Book 1
Zoey Harper
Copyright © 2018 by Zoey Harper
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.
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
Fenix Dragon
Preview: Narchis Dragon
Also by Zoey Harper
About the Author
1
"Colton!"
The yelling of his name followed by the banging of fists against the body of his truck jolted Colton from his restless sleep. He lifted his seat into its upright position and groaned. The banging had stopped, but his ears still rang from the cacophony.
Colton peeled his eyes open, then quickly shut them as bright multi-colored spots filled his vision.
"Fuck me," he muttered.
Colton took a deep breath, then tried again, this time squinting first. There at the front of his truck, in a heavy winter coat, stood his half-brother Ramsey Paxton, with a grin on his stupid little face. Colton craned his neck and found himself surrounded by about ten of his brother's men.
He groaned then rested his head against the back of his seat. He had two options. One, get out of the truck and deal with his asshole of a brother before he caused havoc. Two, start his truck and run the little shit over.
Now that would start a major war.
Taking a deep breath, Colton nodded to himself before opening his car door. His feet landed on a light padding of snow that was customary for light winters in Bolsend, Kentucky. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he made his way to the front of the car, leaning against the grill guard.
"What is it, short stuff?" Colton asked, his voice flat.
Ramsey's face crumpled for a second before it took on its amused expression again. At six-foot-three, Colton towered over pretty much everyone, especially Ramsey. At five-foot-eight, his half-brother was no match. Once they shifted to their bear forms, though, all bets were off.
"You're in my territory," Ramsey said, his tone even. "You'd do well to show some respect."
Ramsey grinned then, and his gray eyes glinted. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and rubbed them together. "Now, do you want to tell me what, exactly, you're doing here?"
Colton winced. Ramsey's eyes were glowing. That meant "Crazy Maisie" was out to play. The last thing Colton needed was a run-in with his half-brother. Not only was the guy sadistic—he bit a guy’s ass in a fight once—but he was the second of the Gray Shade Clan. The most powerful MC in Bolsend.
Colton straightened and folded his arms. Ramsey wasn't much of a challenge in human form, but when "Crazy Masie" came out, even he had to be careful.
"I went out last night, got a little drunk, and drove here by mistake." Colton shrugged. "No biggie."
Ramsey smirked. "Oh, come on, Colton Lennox," Ramsey drawled. "I know your mother taught you better than to tell tall tales."
Colton's nostrils flared as he fought down the wave of anger flooding his veins. His muscles quivered as he gripped his biceps, determined to maintain an air of nonchalance. Ramsey, better than anyone, knew not to bring up his mother.
She had been the best thing that ever happened to Colton, and he still thought of her, every day. Well, mostly of how disappointed she'd be in the life he was living. But still. No man had the right to spit on the memory of another man’s mother.
"Get my mother's name out of your dirty mouth," Colton warned. "Besides, I'm not lying."
Ramsey laughed. Turning to his men around him, who quickly joined in, despite not knowing what was so damn funny, Colton mentally rolled his eyes.
Oh, the joys of being Daddy's little princess.
Ramsey took a step forward, his smile dropping. "I once envied you, Colton, but now you're just pathetic. You went to my house and spoke to my girl. Emma told me so herself."
Colton dropped his arms, and clenched his fists, ready for a fight. "So what? She's an old friend."
"And the woman that dumped the sorry excuse of a bastard that you are." Ramsey snorted, his gray eyes lighting up again. "I can't believe you begged her to leave me. I've had that pussy hundreds of times, Colton, and I can't say it's worth humiliating yourself for."
A few sharp breaths filled the silence that descended over the group of men, as a gentle wind blew past them. Ramsey was looking for a fight, and not just any fight, a good one. As the son of the Gray Shade Clan, no one dared brawl with Ramsey as an equal, but Colton did.
It started one day when they were fourteen. Training for the teenage Gray Shade males had begun, and Ramsey, who'd just started to develop his sadistic streak, had broken into Colton's room and scattered his mother's belongings on the front lawn, before pissing on them.
Colton still couldn't remember what happened next. Those close to him at the time had mentioned how Colton shifted in a blind rage, before pouncing on Ramsey, who’d hidden in the bushes, watching for his reaction.
A bloody fight had ensued, and Colton had been dangerously close to killing Ramsey. Their father had pulled them apart before ordering his men to grab a naked Colton, who'd shifted to human form, and hold him back.
Colton moved out of the family compound soon after that, and into a small house a few doors down.
"Do you really want to fight me?" Colton asked, straightening. He took a giant step and stood in front of his half-brother. Their breaths mingled as electricity sparked in the air around them.
"Are you ready to face down the one person that won't spare Daddy's little princess?"
Colton's heart beat faster, and his bear stirred within him, eager for a good fight. Colton was past caring about the war that would start if he and his brother went toe to toe. All he could see was the man that had been the bane of his existence for the past fifteen years.
It's time to teach this little bitch a lesson.
Ramsey smirked, then tutted. "I don't need to fight you, Colton. I already won. I took away the one thing you cared about and knocked her up. She's four months pregnant, by the way."
Ramsey's words were like an iron fist to his gut. Colton sucked in a greedy breath and took a step back, his body sagging against his car.
Emma was pregnant. The words made sense on an intellectual level, but deep down, they wreaked havoc. They'd only broken up three months ago. That meant she'd been fucking his brother for much longer than she'd admitted.
Colton squeezed his eyes shut. A wave of depression enveloped him like a warm blanket on a cold winter's night. All this time, he'd held on to hope. Not that they'd get back together, but that he hadn't been the fool he appeared to be.
Emma had been a close childhood friend. As they aged, Colton developed feelings for her. Sure, they'd both dated other people, but deep down, Colton had kept a flame burning for the one woman that had befriended him after his mother's death.
That's why he went to see her the night before. Colton wanted to warn Emma of Ramsey's sadistic side. He kept it hidden well, but those who'd worked with him on jobs had seen it. All Colton had wanted
was to spare Emma from a life of pain, even though it meant that he couldn't have her.
I guess I never really knew her.
"I'm sorry," Ramsey deadpanned. "I thought she told you."
Colton straightened, his desire to fight gone. He needed to get home and have another drink. Even he was getting tired of dealing with the emotions of the pathetic little boy inside him. A little boy that wouldn't die, no matter what Colton did.
"It doesn't matter. Every word I told Emma was true. You're a psychopath who will hurt her. She's made her bed. Now she has to lie in it."
Ramsey's gray eyes grew bright, creating an eerie vision when contrasted with the black hair that fell on top of his eyes. "That's something you've never done, isn't it?"
Ramsey turned to Keith, who stood two steps to the left behind him. "Can you believe that, Keith? After all the time he spent with you, he never learned how to fuck a broad. Emma told me he was waiting for her to get over her ex before he tried. What a bitch move!"
Ramsey's men laughed, but Keith's face remained stoic. The older man had taken Colton under his wing once he moved out of his father's house. He taught Colton how to fight, not scrabble. How to shave, and how to drink.
Keith had been a surrogate father to Colton, which was why Ramsey recruited him as his lieutenant once he became the second of the Gray Shade Clan; a position he didn't earn.
Colton inwardly smiled. Ramsey may have thought he'd won by taking away everyone Colton cared about, but he was wrong. Keith and Colton had a bond that couldn't be broken. Something Ramsey would never understand.
"You're right," Colton admitted, irritating Ramsey further. "But I'm glad I didn't. You know the Green Arrow Clan ran a train on her, right? No way I'd go near that without an STD test first."
In a split second, Ramsey pounced on Colton, but before he could do any damage, he was yanked off and muscled to the ground by Keith. Ramsey's face was pushed into the snow, and his body vibrated with murderous energy as he bucked like a bull.
"Get out of here before you start a war," the older man barked at Colton.
The rest of Ramsey's men stood frozen, shock written on their faces. Keith had just manhandled their leader, and none of them wanted the task of trying to get Keith off Ramsey. Keith was the best fighter in the Gray Shade Clan. No sane person wanted to put his skills to the test.
Colton dipped his head in salute before hopping into his truck and speeding off. In his rearview mirror, he saw Ramsey get up and turn his rage onto Keith. His fists rained down on the older bear, who dropped to his knees in deference to his superior.
Colton grimaced. He shouldn't have made that last dig. It was a bitchy move if ever there was one. Now Keith would have to take a beating he didn't deserve.
Colton slammed his hands against his steering wheel. "Dammit!"
All his life, his stepmother, half-brother, and various members of the Gray Shade Clan had told him that his mere existence made things worse for everyone. Now, here he was proving them right, by putting a good friend in an impossible position.
Fuck them all. I never asked to be born a bastard.
Colton gripped the steering wheel and drove far too fast for the icy roads that led to his home. He was angry, depressed, and exhausted all at once. It all started when he found out Emma had been cheating on him with Ramsey.
That kind of betrayal had finally nailed things home for Colton. The Gray Shade Clan would never accept or respect him. So, he left and established the Red Claw Rising Clan and MC club.
Buried in a dark, angry depression, Colton had accepted a deal with the devil. Now his clan was under the thumb of Patrick Hargrove, a well-known drugs and arms dealer.
The better life Colton had thought he was building had been stripped away, and the worst part was that he couldn't express his feelings. He was the alpha, and a hundred good men and women depended on his clear sight and decision making.
Colton scoffed. "Some alpha. I walked into enemy territory to warn a woman that was pregnant with another man's cubs!"
Shaking his head, Colton forced himself to focus on the road ahead. His foot eased off the gas, and he drew his window down. The sound of the wind rushed in his ears, calming him.
Anger will eat you up if you let it, his mother's voice whispered in his mind. It's best to focus on the good. Put it out, and it'll come back to you.
Colton sighed. His mother had meant well, but she knew nothing of the world he inhabited. They'd lived in Bolsend's human territory; a neutral part of town, where any and all shifters were free to live.
Every weekend, Colton went to visit his father. It was there that the unspoken rules of shifter culture, that his human mother didn't understand, shaped him into the man he had become:
A leader and a brawler, with a speck of gold in his heart that wouldn't die no matter what he did.
Colton could be just as selfish as any other shifter, but late at night, when he went to bed, the speck of gold in his heart would guilt him, and Colton would find himself thinking of ways to be a better man.
"What a load of good that did me," Colton murmured. He'd fallen for a power-hungry slut, who'd destroyed his life.
Colton pulled up to the warehouse that served as the Red Claw Rising's garage and manufacturing headquarters. There, parked in the driveway, was a black SUV with orange rims.
Colton gritted his teeth. "Just what I needed."
Parking his truck beside the SUV, Colton got out and walked into the garage. Four motorcycles in varying states of repair sat on lift tables spread across the long room. At the far end in a glassed-in office, Patrick Hargrove, the alpha of the Ebon Wolf Pack, whose territory Colton and his men occupied, waved with a smile.
Colton held up two fingers, asking for a couple of minutes, in response.
"How long's he been here?" Colton asked his second, Damon, who walked up to him with a fabricated gas tank.
Even though they'd been working like dogs, with Damon taking the brunt of it as the person responsible for building the frame of the bike, Colton's second looked fresh. His black hair was clean cut, and he wore a five o’clock shadow that seemed impossibly perfect.
"Ten minutes." Damon shook his head. "The bastard let himself in. He was awfully interested in all our different projects, especially the custom-build. When he started touching the bikes, I escorted him to your office. Do you know the dick-weasel asked me for a beer?"
Colton pinched the bridge of his nose and folded an arm across his middle. "Did he say what he wanted? We should be good on rent."
"Nah. Voldemort incarnate said his news was only for alpha ears."
Beside them, Kane, Colton's third, cackled as he put his airbrush down, slamming his fist on the lift table in front of him. His brown eyes sparkled when he looked up.
"Good one, Damon. I've been looking for a way to describe the creepy vibes he gives off, and you've just hit the nail on the head."
Damon put the gas tank under his arm, and high-fived Kane before the men traded descriptions of what else Patrick's smooth bald head reminded them of.
Colton smiled but didn't comment. He and Damon had been best friends since his late teens, but his betrayal was not something Colton was ready to forgive. Not for a long time.
"Is that the gas tank for the Morgan bike?" Colton stuffed his hands into his pockets, cutting off the banter.
Damon's dark blue eyes flashed with hurt, but Colton ignored them and raised his eyebrows in feigned impatience. "Well? Is it?"
Damon nodded. "I took some liberties with Max's design. Made the tank a little bigger and smoother. It should fit well with the chopper's design."
"It looks good," Colton offered.
Damon was one of the best fabricators in Kentucky. Even though Colton still distrusted his former best friend on some level, he couldn't deny how good the tank looked.
"It'll look real sexy once Kane gets his paint on there."
Damon gave a small smile, then turned around and returned to his stati
on. All around him, Colton's men were busy at work, trying to earn the Red Claw Rising legitimate money. That was the one thing Colton hadn't compromised on.
Despite the mounting bills that awaited him in his office, Colton had never once agreed to any of the illegal work Patrick repeatedly offered him. It seemed that sticking to his guns was paying off, albeit slowly.
The Red Claw Rising clubhouse in Bolsend's human territory was their only profitable business. It managed to pay its rent and that of the clan's other legitimate businesses. Other clans looked down on Colton for allowing human members to join their MC, but humans were obsessed with what they perceived to be a dangerous lifestyle. Their first order for a custom bike that would bring in over a hundred thousand dollars had come from one of their wealthy human members.
Fuck everyone. Human money is just as good as shifter money, except they pay on time.
Colton's head snapped up when he heard a loud knock on the glass window of his office. It appeared he'd taken too long for Patrick's liking. Colton took large strides and walked into his office, standing with his arms folded.
"You should have called."
Patrick snorted. "Why should I? I'm the landlord. I have rights."
Colton sorely wanted to point out that as a tenant, privacy was his legal right, but he bit his tongue. "What do you want?"
Patrick cocked his head. "Rough night? You're awful moody. It's making you act like you don't respect me."
Colton shrugged as if to say, "if the shoe fits." Patrick nodded, then took a seat behind Colton's desk, propping his feet up.
Snotty little bastard.
"I'm a generous landlord, so I'll let your rudeness slide for now. Besides, you're about to make it up to me. I've got a job for you. I won't take no for an answer this time. Not if you want our little arrangement to continue."
