Iron Flats Rebel: Shifter Realms

by Thorne, Elle

  But tonight, oh yes, tonight, she’d be Jared’s woman, and she’d make him hers. Even if it only lasted one night.

  She yielded, parting her lips while his tongue claimed, explored, gave, took, owned. He pulled her close, she was in his lap, her hands clutching his T-shirt. She tugged the fabric over his head. His chest rippled, a tribal tattoo of curls and lines, bold and dark stood out against his flesh in the moonlight. His abs flexed with each intake and exhale. His eyes were heavy-lidded with desire, flashing silver. His body was hard beneath her fingertips as she trailed them over his chest, across his shoulders.

  He licked his lip slowly, reaching for her peasant blouse, pulling it over her head, then reached behind her, and with a snap of his fingers, he’d released her bra. He stripped it away slowly, leaned back to study her breasts.

  “Damn,” his whisper was tortured. He lowered his head, latched on to a nipple that was already peaked and tight with desire. His other hand cupped her breast, rolling and tweaking her nipple, sending her into a chasm of scorching desire, sending surges of desire through her body, pooling at the zenith between her legs.

  Damn was right.

  A growl reverberated in his chest as he unbuttoned her jeans and peeled them off her, taking the panties with them. He moved shifter-fast, laying her on the blanket, pinning her in place with his mouth on her sex.

  She gasped, head thrown back, reached for him, her fingers entwined in his hair. His tongue slipped between the seams of her lips, while one hand made its way up her abdomen to her breast, tweaking and teasing her nipple.

  His tongue found her clit, licking and sucking, over and over, sending her closer and closer to the edge of a cliff that led to an abyss of pleasure. He slid one hand beneath her ass, tipping her upward, his thumb lightly teasing her tight rosebud as he dropped his chin and drove his tongue into her sex, driving it deep inside.

  She gasped, arched her body, panted as his head moved up and down. He began to alternate between fucking her with his tongue and licking her clit. She arched so high her back was off the blanket as her whimpering rose to a crescendo. Seconds later, a climax seized her body, throwing her into an orgasm that pushed her into aftershock followed by aftershock. She dropped to the blanket, spent.

  He rose, shucked his jeans, then, like a predator, made his way stealthily across her body. Her breath caught when she looked at his hardness. It brushed across her thigh, then nestled into the hair on her mound. She gulped at the size of him, resting there, hard, long, thick.

  Jared’s arms flexed as he hovered, poised. His eyes reflected the moon behind her. His lips descended, his mouth tasting of her essence. His lips slick with the flavor of her. He rose up slightly, then pressed his thick head at her entrance. She found herself holding her breath, anticipating, waiting, wanting, needing.

  He pressed forward slightly, sliding in, filling, stretching. The slowness, the patience, the regard he held for her was evident. Her heart burst with emotions she shouldn’t have for the man she’d be leaving behind.

  He grunted, pushed in more.

  A sigh escaped her lips. He groaned at the sound then pressed even further in until he was fully sheathed within. She closed her eyes, relishing the sensation of him completely occupying and touching every part of her deep within. He stared with slow, long strokes, pulling nearly all the way out, then reentering, over and over again at an agonizing, sweet torment of a pace.

  “More,” she pleaded. “No, faster, I mean.” She couldn’t say what she meant. Her mind and her mouth seemed at a disconnect with her body and her pleasure center.

  He kissed her, his tongue parting her lips while he plunged in harder, and even deeper though she’d thought he’d already gone as far as he could. He pumped into her faster. She bucked up against him, frenzy overtaking.

  She reached between them, putting pressure on the nub which regulated so much of her pleasure, moving her fingers with a rhythm that matched his delivery. She didn’t even identify the panting animal sounds she was making as hers at first.

  “Please, please, please,” she begged, not recognizing her own voice begging for release.

  “Darby.” His tone conveyed the sweet anguish plaguing him as it was her. “Come for me.”

  She shook her head. He couldn’t do that. Shouldn’t. His voice, what he was doing, all of it, was pushing her toward… toward… “God, Jared.”

  “Give it to me. Give me all of you.”

  Screams of ecstasy escaped her lips as he slammed into her. She bucked harder and faster, equaling his fervor.

  With a final thrust, he released jets of pulsating heat deep within. His teeth grazed her shoulder. She winced but wasn’t sure he’d broken skin. It didn’t matter. It melded in with the rest of the pleasure coursing through her.

  She collapsed in his arms, melted into the Iron Flats Mesa.

  She’d given him all of her.

  He had no idea how much.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jared twisted in the sheets which had wrapped around him. He had spent the night with Darby in the bed in Gabe’s cabin after their night on the range. He reached across to draw her closer. They’d made love twice more on the mesa. Each time was spectacular, but none could match the passion of the first, under the full moon, his wolf howling in his mind as Jared made her his.

  He’d never imagined it could be so. Sex was sex, right? Nope. Not by a long shot. With Darby, sex was where he became complete. It was where his wolf found peace, and his heart found solace. He’d come too close to marking her the first time. His wolf had almost taken over and sunk his canines deep into her shoulder, to claim her as their own. He couldn’t let it happen. At the last moment, Jared wrestled control back from his beast, and instead, he’d just grazed the skin, breaking the flesh slightly.

  Her secrets be damned. No matter what her wolf had done, if it had vanished or… Who knew what? He didn’t care. If Paw had been around, he’d have told him he was wrong. Different kinds can be together. But Paw already knew that, didn’t he? He found out the hard way. But Jared would rather have a love that was flawed but perfect for him than have one that was perfect for others but a complete failure for him.

  He felt around on the bed. Cold? Empty? Wait. Maybe she was in the restroom. He raised his head from the pillow. The restroom was dark. The cabin felt empty. That can’t—couldn’t—be.

  Shifter-fast, he sprang out of bed and double-checked the cabin.

  Nothing. No Darby.

  He ran outside. Her car was gone.

  What the living hell?

  * * *

  Jared rose from the picnic bench under the large tree next to the cabin when Gabriel Bonegate pulled up.

  “Can you keep an eye on Vix and the kits? I’ve got an errand.”

  Gabe looked behind him, toward the cabin. “She ran, didn’t she?”

  Jared’s eyes narrowed. “What do you know about this?

  “Do you know where she is now? What she’s going through?” Gabe asked.

  His wolf snapped and snarled deep within the recesses in his mind, pressing against his flesh painfully, insisting on a shift. “I said, what do you know about this?”

  Bonegate pursed his lips, scratched his jaw. “My guess? She’s gone back. Her last name is Moore.”

  “No. It’s Masters.” At least, that was what he thought she’d said. Had she lied? He hadn’t smelled a lie on her. Then again, he’d been so overwhelmed by her scent. A she-wolf in season. He tipped his head to the side, rubbed a hand through his hair. Smelled the scent of her on his body. A wave of melancholy was followed by a tsunami of confusion.

  “Here’s the skinny of it.” Gabe leaned against the column on the front porch, scratched his thumbnail over a knot. “Peter Moore sired her. He does not tolerate humans, or shifter-recessives, which to him makes her a defective. He’ll cast her out. Put her through the gauntlet.”

  “She’s—” Jared scuffed the toe of his boot on the dirt, making patterns. “She’s a
shifter-recessive.” Damn. He hadn’t seen it coming. Then again, wouldn’t that explain…? “So that’s why she didn’t heal as fast.”

  Bonegate nodded.

  “You knew?” Jared’s mind was elsewhere—traveling a highway, looking for a blonde with a quick tongue and a good heart. And a phenomenal body.

  Another nod. “Since the night she hit her head in the truck.”

  “You didn’t say anything.”

  “Nope.”

  It hit him. “Gauntlet?” He flinched.

  “I have no doubt about it.”

  “Fuck. Fuck that.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Darby slinked into Silver Peak territory. She parked her ancient Toyota Camry next to her father’s brand-new Mercedes. She slipped onto the property and snuck around the back to Ellie’s cabin. She’d no sooner than knocked once softly when the door flew open.

  Ellie yanked her inside. “You’re back! I missed you. I can’t believe it! You’re back.” She bounced and bounded all around Darby, hugging her and alternately grabbing her by the shoulders and repeating that she couldn’t believe it. “Did you get the dirt?”

  Though she was overcome by sadness at the mention of her mission and the thoughts it spawned about Jared, she forced a smile to her face. “I’ve got to use the bathroom. Bad.”

  “Soorrryy.” Ellie pushed her toward the restroom. “Hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “Pizza night at the clubhouse.”

  Almost to the toilet, Darby’s stomach did a flip. The clubhouse. Everyone would be there. Her father, holding court. His sycophant betas fawning and kissing ass. Each of them more than happy to see him dead so they could succeed to his position, but not a one of them brave enough to challenge him.

  Nah, going to the clubhouse for pizza night didn’t appeal.

  After she’d completed her business in the restroom, taking a few moments to wash her face and pat it dry, to see what a woman who’d walked away from the love of her life looked like, she stepped out of the restroom and took the corridor toward the living room.

  One step into the room where Ellie was waiting for her, and she froze at the sight awaiting her. She gulped.

  Peter Moore stood in the center of the room, flanked by two of his lieutenants. Yes, he had ranks in his pack. The prick. “You’re back.”

  Tall, muscular, a touch of gray at the temples, dark hair and darker eyes. On the outside, he appeared handsome, approachable. It wasn’t until one stared into his eyes and saw that the coldness there was an abyss of greed, ambition, and ruthlessness. His smile never quite reached past his lips. He was in a suit, typical for him. He liked to think of himself as upper crust. His henchmen were also in suits, muscular thugs masquerading as men, but worse than wolves. She’d have pegged them as hyenas if she were to guess their shifter animal, but no, they were wolves, just like her father. Definitely not the caliber of wolf Jared was. Not by a long shot.

  Suddenly, she found herself missing Jared and the warmth of his arms, his kiss, his heart. She straightened her spine. She had a job to do.

  Her skin felt cold. Her hands shook. She’d planned to leave the pack. But to be confronted, unexpectedly? This was unsettling.

  He came close, stalking her like a hunter did prey. When he was close enough to hug, he leaned in. He sniffed. His nostrils flared. “Smells like shifter on you.” More sniffing. “Not one of ours.”

  She glanced at Ellie. What had she told him? What did he know?

  I’m sorry, Ellie mouthed.

  Shit. What did that mean? She’d told him? Darby turned her attention to her father, saying nothing.

  “So my loser daughter comes back from her trip to get dirt on Crooked Arrow. And what does she have for me?”

  Darby did a double-take, looking to Elie for an answer.

  Ellie shrugged. I don’t know, her lips said.

  “Speak up, girl.”

  She swallowed. Hard. Opened her mouth. Nothing came out. Her hands were beyond the point of shaking. They were leaves in a storm. Her knees were jelly, or something even jellier than jelly. Jared came to her mind. His profile in the moonlight. The way the silver in his eyes gleamed when he kissed her. She straightened her spine, fought to keep her knees from quaking.

  “I have nothing for you.”

  The room fell more silent than before. It was as though everyone had stopped breathing. Completely. As though the world outside had fallen away, and they were in a void, just the five of them in a tunnel where Peter Moore sucked all the air away from anyone else.

  “I don’t think I heard you correctly,” he said, his voice low and cold. She’d noticed that tone before, when he’d killed a shifter for crossing him.

  If this was her time to go, she’d be damned if she’d bow her head. Let him kill her while she looked him in the eye. “I. Have. Nothing. For. You.”

  He snapped his fingers. “Put her in safekeeping.” He gave her that smile, the one which reminded her of a cobra. “You’re officially not a Silver Peak anymore.”

  “Not sure I really ever was.”

  He nodded. “Dawn tomorrow, we’ll see her off with a gauntlet ceremony.”

  “No,” Ellie whispered, shock registering in her expression. “You know even shifters sometimes don’t survive. She can’t. It will kill her.”

  “She’s made her choice.” His heel-snapping 180 announced his intent to end the conversation.

  He left the room as the two goons wrapped ham-like fists around her arms. She wouldn’t give them the pleasure of seeing her beg. She wouldn’t give Peter Moore the satisfaction of hearing it either. She raised her head. “I’m ready.”

  “No. No.” Ellie ran to one of the behemoth lieutenants and grabbed his arm. “Let her go. You know her. You’ve known her since she was a little girl. “Let her go.” Tears streamed down her face as she begged.

  The giant shook off Ellie. Then, together, they led Darby away to the root cellar where they kept prisoners. This was her last night. She’d spend it sleeping, not stressing. She’d dream of Jared. She’d think of how life could have been, if…

  They shoved her into the hole then slammed the doors closed behind her. She landed on dirt in a pitch-black room which wasn’t tall enough to stand up in. In darkness, she leaned against the wall and prayed there were no spiders nearby and the scratching noises weren’t actually mice.

  She shuddered.

  Sleep did not take her. She lay awake in the darkness, peeking through a sliver of a slat between the two doors. She could see the moon. It was big. Not as big and as vibrant as—

  Last night? Was it really only last night? Tears made their way down her face. One tear after another, all speaking to the heartache she’d left at Iron Flats.

  “Darby?” Ellie’s whisper broke the silence and the scratching noises.

  “Ellie? What are you doing? You’ll get into trouble. You don’t want to be banished as well.”

  “I didn’t tell them anything. I didn’t do it. But I know how Peter knew.” She leaned close. Her face eclipsing the moon. “He’s got my place bugged. All of our places.” Her voice was barely above a low hiss.

  “How’d you find out?”

  “I asked Joel.” Joel was in the ranks of Peter’s hierarchy. “He has a crush on me. So when I asked, he fessed up.”

  “What a dirtbag.”

  “That’s nicer than I’d say,” Ellie admitted, though he was her father, too. “I can’t get you out. They’ve had someone posted here the whole time. He just went to the restroom. There’s a lock on the door. It’s enchanted. The door and the lock.”

  Great. So magic was used to keep the lock from being broken by a shifter. That was the only way to keep a shifter like Ellie from breaking it.

  “It doesn’t matter. You get out of here before you get into any trouble.”

  “I can’t leave you to the gauntlet.”

  “I won’t let you do something which forces you to join me there. Now go!”


  Ellie stuck a finger through the slat. “I can’t just let it end like this.”

  Darby locked her finger with her sisters, just as they’d done when they were younger. “Go. Now,” Darby ground out through gritted teeth. She had to clench her jaw to keep from bursting into tears.

  * * *

  The night did not pass swiftly. Coolness set in and ravaged her body, leaving her shaking and mentally broken down. Or maybe it was the knowledge she would never see Jared again. She was certain she wouldn’t survive the gauntlet. Some shifters didn’t. A human hadn’t been put through it yet, but if a shifter—who was much, much stronger than she—could be killed, she didn’t stand much of a chance.

  The crack of dawn shown through the slat. Voices and footfalls in the near distance followed. Lots and lots of heavy footfalls.

  The door opened, and she squinted against the morning light, even though it was still early dawn. The same two goons from last night jerked her out of the cellar then escorted her through pine trees until they arrived at a clearing. The clearing opened up to the dirt road leading out of Silver Peak territory.

  She gasped at the sight of what awaited her. In the clearing, a dozen wolf shifters, all in their animal form loomed, forming two lines. She’d be going between the two lines. This was the gauntlet. She’d spied on the ceremony before. When she was younger and had been told she couldn’t attend, she’d climbed a tree and watched from a distance.

  Oh, she was no stranger to what was coming. She’d be forced to go through the gauntlet, running and hoping to make it to the road while the wolves, though they couldn’t chase her, could strike out with their claws and fangs as she passed by. If one could catch her or fell her long enough for another to dig into her throat or major organs, she was done for. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t a runner. On a good day, she couldn’t evade a single wolf shifter. Today, the way she felt? Nope, not even a single adolescent wolf shifter. And there were a dozen of wolves out there.