The All Consuming: A Shifter MC Novel (Pureblood Predator MC Book 4)

by Ellis Daniels, May

  A low growl escapes my lips.

  Lily’s blood’s driving my wolf mad. I shake my heavily-muscled neck back and forth, grinding my prey’s face through the dirt. Her stinger stabs me again, but the pain feels miles off. I dig my claws into my bloodmate’s back and force her hind legs down until she’s flat on her belly.

  I could sever her spine.

  Just flex my jaws a little and snap it in two.

  But something holds me back. A memory of how we felt together. And another image, of a child swaddled in black silk.

  My son.

  Shit’s gotten complicated.

  A long, wheezing breath hisses from Lily’s throat.

  Then she freezes.

  I stay on top of her, mounting her, making damn sure she’s yielding and not only playing at it.

  Then I hear a soft moan of submission.

  I loosen my jaws. Just a touch. Enough to let the bitch know I don’t need to kill her if she smartens the fuck up.

  Lily stays perfectly still.

  Her body begins to shift. Her skin tightens and her bones snap and her fur recedes and in seconds her animal is gone, and lying beneath me is a naked, wounded and bleeding woman, my bloodmate, Lily Thompson, AKA Sparkles the Cop.

  I’m still in my wolf.

  Five hundred pounds of furious death instinct.

  My jaws fit easily around my bloodmate’s flimsy Skin neck.

  Lily’s lying flat on her belly.

  Pinned into the dirt.

  Sobbing.

  “I fucked up, Aaron,” she says through her tears. “I thought they…Stricken? Not your crew. Not Purebloods. I was so afraid…I didn’t mean to call her…”

  “Lily?” a woman screams.

  Trish.

  So the fucking nosy, meddling Skin is still alive.

  “Get the fuck off her, you animal,” Trish screams.

  I glance up. Nash has Trish wrapped in his arms.

  The cop chick’s squirming against my VP, cussing him out—

  Trish is right.

  I should let Lily go. She yielded to me.

  But my wolf fought hard for this kill. He demands a feed. My prey’s warm red blood is filling my mouth. It tastes…powerful. More nourishing than any black Stricken blood. Maybe the tables have turned. Maybe we don’t need the Risen to defeat Vuk. Maybe the Risen need to die to prevent him from Becoming—

  “Your son, Aaron,” Lily whispers. “I’m carrying your child—”

  Lily’s heart’s beating like mad.

  I know, because every time it beats a fresh throb of blood fills my jaws.

  Control.

  My dead brother’s words.

  Love is weakness.

  The First Fallen.

  Right now I decide where I stand. Who I’m loyal to.

  Am I like Vuk, loyal only to myself?

  Or is there something greater in me? Some sense of…good?

  Whatever the fuck that is.

  My brother thought so. Saw something in me. Kneeled to let me lead.

  The Purebloods have closed in around us. A couple dozen leather-cut wearing MC bikers and hundreds of animals I don’t recognize.

  A fucking army at my command.

  The ones I summoned in the church when my grandfather named me the One We Answer To.

  Fuck it.

  There’s a war to fight. I offered Vuk a blood challenge.

  I want that brawl. Want to see who’s really top dog.

  I’d even toss Lily into the pole pyramid just to make Vuk Become so I can square off against him. I fear nothing. And after I murder the Fallen, if the Risen need to die as well…so be it. The strong above the weak. Somewhere along the way the stupid motherfuckers got confused. Believed all the wrong stories. Thought it was the end of the Pureblood era. Thought a new species was destined to rise.

  They’re wrong.

  Slowly, in complete control, I release Lily’s neck. Retract my claws from her back. Step off her. Send my wolf back into his cage.

  A rush of held breath escapes from the crowd.

  They still want her dead. But they’re willing to follow my lead.

  For now.

  Lily rolls onto her back. Sits up, cradling her belly and wincing. Looks me in the eye. A wave of conflicting emotion passes over her face: anger and hatred, love and lust.

  Then she fucking smacks me straight across the cheek so hard my head rockets to the side. I grind my claws into my palms and resist the urge to gut her.

  Okay. I deserved that.

  But once was enough. If she tries it again—

  “You dirtbag biker asshole,” she whispers as her wounds close.

  “Never pretended to be anything else.”

  “No,” Lily says, “you can’t be anything else.”

  Then she’s in my arms, kissing me, our wounded, naked bodies pressed tight and there’s a world of suffering and uncertainty between us but none of it matters now, we escaped the Bloodless Land and this woman is going to bear my son and a huge flood of relief washes over me as Lily puts her lips to my ear and begs me to fuck her, right now, here in front of the whole crew—

  My cock stiffens as Lily’s hands trace down my abs and the Purebloods cheer and roar and the music starts up. Lily’s whispering how hot it was to feel my fangs in her neck, my weight pressing her into the dirt and how strong I am, her fucking apex alpha, how badly she needs me inside her, how she wants to feel my weight on her again—

  I scent the heat and desire building between my bloodmate’s legs and then she’s pulling me down onto her, spreading her legs and gripping my cock in both hands and steering me toward the hot slip of her cunt while the crew screams and it’s a wildborn night, a night of insanity and madness and blood and lust, a night of raw, unfettered animal instinct.

  I push my cock balls-deep into my bloodmate. She moans and grips my ass and holds me inside her, our two animal heats merged as one and a part of me’s wondering how the fuck a couple can be so wrong and so right at the same time, how this cop chick is perfect for me and yet…disastrous, and if I believed in a god I’d think the fucker’s having a good smirk right about now.

  Someone hands me a bottle of bourbon. I take a long pull and pour some into Lily’s mouth and drizzle it over her neck and tits and lick it from her warm, smooth skin while the firelight dances across us and the desert stars shine bright above and I begin fucking my bloodmate, slow at first, but building in intensity as my need grows. Lily’s eyes never break from mine, we’re staring directly at one another as we fuck, searching each other, scenting each other, just opening it all up, the secrets most lovers keep hidden behind locked doors, the resentments and fears and insecurities that don’t mean shit in the animal world.

  After tonight, there’s none of that between me and Lily.

  We know were we stand.

  My bloodmate offered herself to me.

  Sank to her knees and submitted.

  That takes a kind of trust that’s beyond most people, the loyalty of a pack bond, and as she begins moaning from the force of my cock opening her swollen folds I kiss my bloodmate’s cheeks and neck and shoulders, the wounds my wolf gave her still raw and tender and too-warm—

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  LILY

  AARON SLIPS FROM my arms.

  Leaves me lying in the dirt, broken and bleeding, my insides sore and aching and feeling empty without his hard cock filling me, while he pisses off to party with his MC.

  So much for afterglow cuddles.

  Truth is I’m not interested in holding him either.

  Tonight was about raw, animalistic desire. Release.

  No bullshit.

  We both got what we needed.

  Aaron drove my animal into the ground. Had his powerful jaws clamped around my throat. I can still feel his fangs piercing my skin. His hot breath on my neck. His weight smothering over me.

  He forced my animal to yield.

  Dominated me.

  I knew as soon
as I felt my animal fleeing that I wanted to fuck him. I’ve never been so turned on. Aaron’s new-born power…it’s intoxicating. His confidence and strength. It’s next level alpha.

  I can’t thank him enough for banishing my animal.

  Teaching the bitch who’s boss.

  I lost control of her. Almost lost myself. If Aaron wasn’t here she would’ve slaughtered the Purebloods. Fed on them. Then moved on, roaming and hunting alone, driven by the need to find another kill.

  She would never have permitted me return.

  Not to mention the man has a perfect cock and knows exactly how I want to be fucked. Every time we’re together I come so many times I lose count. We’re animals in heat, mad for each other.

  Maybe there’s no future. Maybe one or both of us dies during the One War. It doesn’t matter. We’ve been blessed with this…passion. This uncaged, wildborn togetherness. I’ve lived more in the past few weeks than most people live in a lifetime.

  I cover my eyes with my palm and lie naked, flat on my back while the Purebloods mill around me. I’m not embarrassed or ashamed. Let them see me naked. Let them watch their alpha fuck his bloodmate.

  Only the Skins hide their desire. Repress it.

  Feel bad about what’s perfectly natural.

  I sense someone kneeling beside me. Then a soft touch against my forehead brushes my bangs behind my ears. I move the hand covering my eyes and am looking at my best friend. Trish. She’s staring at me with the fretful, motherly look of worry and concern she always does. Like she still doesn’t believe I can handle myself out here.

  Like I need her protection.

  Resentment makes my lips tighten. I love her, but fuck do I wish she wasn’t such an old hen. Then I remember how much she’s lost. Her career and home and family. Her people. How uncertain she must be. How afraid. Maybe she’s right to worry over me. I’m the only thing she’s got.

  I try and give my best friend a smile.

  It makes it halfway, then slowly fades.

  “You don’t approve,” I say.

  Trish frowns. “You’re a grown woman.”

  “What then?”

  “Are you all right? That’s all.”

  “I’m a lot more than all right.”

  “You made it back.”

  I smile, not knowing what to say.

  “I knew you would.”

  A heavy silence, punctuated by the death metal playing a little ways in the distance and the sound of shattering glass and loud hoots and hollers. “They’re really getting their party on.”

  Trish gives me a stiff nod.

  She doesn’t approve.

  “Why’d you do it, Lil?” Trish asks.

  “Drive the bike off that cliff? To get my son back. Why else?”

  “No. Why’d you trade your son for me and the Risen in the first place? You didn’t even know them. And me? I’m a fucking Skin. A lost cause. The last dodo.”

  I slip my hand into Trish’s. “I took a risk. I saw August gut you, remember? I couldn’t have lived with myself—”

  Trish glances at my belly. “You did it for you. Cuz you felt guilty.”

  “I guess so. Yeah. Does that make me a shit person?”

  “I won’t judge.”

  “You sure?”

  Trish’s eyes blaze. “I’m thinking…about your other son. Lachlan? What if it comes down to him, Lil? Will you act selfishly or make the hard call?”

  “You mean murder him?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m happy to see you, too, Trish. Nice to get caught up. Now if you’ll excuse me…I just rescued my unborn son from a fucking dog-faced god. Got my ass kicked by an alpha wolf. Had my brains fucked out by a hot as hell outlaw while his biker crew cheered us on. I could use some water. Maybe a little shuteye.” My voice rises in frustration. “You think that could happen? Or do we need—”

  “I think they’re right,” Trish says, her voice deadly soft. “Aaron might be your alpha, but I think everything still depends on you. And that fucking terrifies me.”

  “Well thanks for the vote of confide—”

  Before I can finish Trish stands and storms off into the desert night.

  I take a long breath.

  She shouldn’t be out there alone.

  She knows better.

  I should go get her. But the truth is what she said makes my stomach churn. Murder my eldest son? Could I do it? To save…what? Myself? The Purebloods and Skins? The whole fucking world?

  You are your own keeper.

  The Dog God was his own keeper.

  Fuck of a lot of good it did him.

  I struggle to a stand, then stagger into the seething Pureblood crowd, searching for Nash. Let loverboy go chasing after his girl. I’ve had enough of Trish’s fretting for one night.

  ***

  I find the Pureblood MC’s inner circle crouched around a small fire a few hundred yards away from the main party. Aaron’s face is scrunched up in anger. Nash looks pissed as well. Blue’s gesturing with his massive arms, like he’s trying to convince Aaron of something. Tate just looks stoned.

  I’m out of earshot, but a few words and phrases drift on the wind.

  Can’t trust.

  Get rid of.

  Make the call.

  Fucked up before.

  I take a few more steps toward the men, straining to hear. I shouldn’t be eavesdropping on club business. But I have a suspicion this is my business as well—

  “She fucking lost it, Prez,” Blue is saying.

  Aaron tosses a beer bottle in the fire and says nothing.

  “Imagine a war,” Nash says. “Stricken swarming everywhere. A fucking bloodbath. No way Lily’s gunna be strong enough to keep her animal locked up—”

  “You saw us,” Aaron growls. “She submitted. I’m her alpha. She’ll obey. Even her animal will obey.”

  “Maybe,” Blue says doubtfully. “Maybe not. It’s a fucking risk, Prez.”

  “You sound like a bitch,” Aaron says. “Life is risk. Or it isn’t worth living.”

  Nash and Blue share a look.

  “A risk we can’t afford,” Nash says, picking up where Blue left off. “We’re stronger than ever, yeah. More Purebloods keep scenting us out. Joining the ranks. But we got the fucking Fallen to deal with, not to mention Shiori and that motherfucker Rodas and…”

  Nash’s voice trails off.

  “Her son,” Aaron finishes.

  “Yeah,” Blue says, real quiet. “Lachlan. I scented those vulture’s back at the mental hospital, Prez. The Carrion Cloud. The boy’s taken after his father—”

  Tate passes Aaron a joint, then looks out into the desert. I slip behind a manzanita bush and fully commit to being a slimeball and eavesdropping.

  Aaron takes a long drag, blows a swirling cloud of blue smoke into the fire that rises with the heat, then says, “You know I love you guys. And you’re my crew. My inner circle. I know this can’t be easy for you. Talking about this shit. Truth is it’s not easy for me either. So I want you to know you can say anything. Speak your mind. Here and now. Got it? For the good of the pack. That’s what matters. Pack survival above all.”

  Pack survival above all.

  The words pound through my head.

  The fucker’s playing both sides. And I hate that there’s even two sides. I’d hoped submitting to the Prez would make it clear we’re all on the same side.

  My lips curl in derision.

  You silly, naive little girl, I scold myself. You blind, too trusting fool.

  I’m a Risen. I’ll always be a Risen. An outsider.

  The MC will never let me in.

  I’ll never be one of them.

  Sure, they’ll tolerate me. At least as long as Aaron forces them to.

  I bite my lips to stifle my anger and disappointment and even…fear. Cradle my arm around my belly. He wouldn’t dare—

  “So,” Aaron says, tipping a bottle to his lips. “Nash. As VP, you speak first. What should I
do?”

  …about the Lily problem?

  He didn’t say it. Didn’t have to. It was right there, hanging in the air for everyone to see. The backstabbing bastard—

  Nash flicks another glance into the desert.

  Fucker’s nervous.

  About me.

  That’s the poison I bring to this pack. Fucking shitballs why didn’t I see it before? I was too busy fighting my animal. Trying to make sense of things. Running around putting out fires. I should have got out in front of this long ago.

  What a fucking jerkoff I’ve been.

  Now shit gets real.

  I’ve been leaning on Aaron and praying it was all gunna work out. Suddenly the pressure my being here puts on Aaron hits home and knocks the wind from my lungs. How he has to act as a go-between, caught in the middle of his pack and his bloodmate.

  No wonder sometimes he looks at me like he hates me—

  “I say we roll into Phoenix like we planned before you healed up,” Nash says. “Secure a headquarters for the Pureblood territory west of here. Start hunting Stricken and signing up the Skins that are still alive. Leave someone in charge. Leave a few MC members behind as well. Lily and her Skin friend stay with them while we ride on the Fallen and his band of merry fucksters.”

  “You tell Trish your master plan?” Aaron asks.

  Nash glowers. Shakes his head.

  “Didn’t think so.”

  Aaron stares at Blue and Tate. “You both back Nash on this?”

  Blue and Tate nod.

  Aaron takes another pull from the bottle, then taps a rail onto his wrist and snorts it home. I can almost see the weight of responsibility crushing his shoulders.

  “I fucking hate this shit,” Aaron mutters.

  I know that’s true. He does hate it. In fact I think it’s probably tearing him up. Hurting him worse than he’ll ever show.

  And that’s on me.

  Aaron looses a long sigh, then says, “I fucking hate it, but I’m thinking the same thing. Lily’s carrying my son. No way she’s riding south with us. Trish? Fuck her. We’ll tie her to a pole if we have to.”

  “C’mon Prez,” Nash growls.

  Aaron laughs. “Okay Nashy. Whatever. You deal with Trish. Although I gotta say it’s pretty fucking rich, you two hooking up after all the grief you gave me about Lil being a Skin.”