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

by Ellis Daniels, May

  “I am making you jealous.”

  I meet Mia’s eyes. She’s still got a part of me whipped. Not all of me. But a good-sized chunk. “Fine. Whatever. I’m jealous. I own that. But shit’s…we’re done.” My voice rises to a growl. “We’re fucking finished. Get it through your tiny reptile brain. It’s over.”

  “Liar.”

  I down the last of the Caesar. “Thanks for the drink, Mia. Good to get caught up. Now. I got an MC to run—”

  “You think I’m being manipulative.”

  “I think you’re being a world-class bitch.”

  “Why? Because I love you?”

  The words hit me like a brick wall at a hundred miles an hour.

  I’m too stunned to speak. My stomach lurches in a way that makes me think I’m gunna be sick.

  “You’re being batty. End of days fucking with your head?”

  “I’m being real,” Mia says, nearly raising her voice to a shout.

  A few of the MC have woken up and are milling around, clutching their heads and downing the last few inches of booze from tipped bottles. A few of them glance our way.

  Mia laughs. “What? Worried about your rep?”

  “I need a piss.”

  “You’re denying how you feel, Aaron. Bottling it up. Like a chickenshit Skin. You think I can’t scent your wolf? He’s raging to fuck me. That’s real. That’s wildborn truth. That’s never gunna go away. You and Lily? The world tossed you together. Bam!”

  Mia claps her hands right by my ear.

  The sound ricochets through my throbbing head.

  “So you got a war to fight,” Mia continues. “You’re a big shot alpha. Go on then. Win the fucking war. But after?” Mia pauses, flicks her snake tongue at me. “After the war…you and Lily aren’t shit. The only reason you’re together is because of the Fallen. He wanted you together. You exist because of him. And when he’s gone…poof! So’s your little piglet.”

  “Don’t call her that,” I snarl. “She’s my bloodmate.”

  Something in my tone makes Mia falter. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Your bloodmate. This isn’t Lily’s fault. I’m done hating on her. But that doesn’t make what I’m saying any less true.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “You want to see a manipulative, world-class bitch? Try this: I could make you fuck me. Right now. If I wanted to.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Mia lifts her top. Her tits spill out, perfect pink nipples standing erect and before I can stop myself I think about taking them in my mouth, biting gently—

  Mia pinches her nipple. Moans softly. My cock surges tight against my jeans. The fucking bitch. Her scent’s driving my wolf insane. Mia slips her other hand down to her leather pants. Undoes the top few buttons. Slides her hand inside. Rubs her fingers along her moist pussy. Closes her eyes. Moans, real quiet, more like a whimper. Her arousal fills the air. My cock’s fucking aching for her.

  I should stand up.

  Tell her to fuck off.

  Call her a whore.

  But I don’t, and then she lifts her fingers to my lips and I open my mouth and taste her arousal and a flash of electric lust burns through me, knocks me clear out of my mind and then I reach out and snatch her wrist and pull her close while I fumble with my fucking jeans—

  An image slams into me, so powerful it makes my hackles rise, of the first time Lily summoned her animal on the mountain ridge, trying to save my brother because I asked for her help, and how she looked at me after, weak, frightened, alone and so full of need—

  I hurl Mia to the ground.

  Drop my claws and straddle her.

  She cowers, shielding her throat with her arms, her skin rippling to green-black scales.

  I give her a few seconds beneath me, then spit on the ground beside her head and step back without a word.

  Mia leaps up, smacks me so hard my vision goes shaky.

  “Get the fuck out of my sight,” I say, refusing to be baited again. “I’ve done nothing but cut you slack. The shit I’ve let you get away with…fuck!You’ve done nothing to deserve it. Next time you step between me and my bloodmate, I’ll gut you. I fucking swear it on my brother’s blood.”

  I was wrong.

  Some things never change.

  Mia almost smiles. “Your precious bloodmate heard you and the boys last night. Around the fire? She heard you say you were gunna dump her in Phoenix. She fucked off while you were passed out. Good for her.”

  Mia whirls on her heel and stomps away, leaving me feeling like a slimeball sack of shit…and also leaving me to wonder: maybe she’s right.

  Maybe me and Lil…it’s a love born of madness. An end of days affair. And when we do win, and it’s not the end of days…what then? It’s a toxic thought, the kind that can poison a love.

  Fucking hell.

  Snake or no snake, Mia got her venom in me.

  Lily’s run off.

  I got a city to storm.

  The too-bright sun’s piercing my eyes.

  And I could use another Caesar.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  LILY

  TRISH WILL SLOW me and Anik down, but I’m still happy she came.

  “Nash was shit for me anyway,” Trish yells in my ear as we tear along the empty desert highway, the Harley roaring between my legs and the wind whipping through my hair and damn it everything reminds me of Aaron, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to admit it.

  Besides, the sharpness of missing him will pass.

  I’ve lost enough to know every pain dulls with time.

  I glance over at Anik. The road’s straight and dry. Which means he might be able to stay on his Harley. Not many ice free roads in the butt-fuck arctic to practice riding a Harley.

  “I mean, a biker? A fucking hyena biker? What was I thinking?” Trish yells.

  You weren’t thinking. And it was great, I want to say.

  But I keep my mouth shut.

  “You know what he said to me the first time we fucked?” Trish says. “Looks over and says, ‘Yo Skin, you still breathin’?’ Can you imagine? What a fucking skid.”

  “Pureblood pillow talk.”

  “I know, right?” Trish says. “Honkey asshole. Wasn’t even all that.”

  “He wasn’t?” I ask genuinely surprised.

  Nash isn’t my type, but still—

  Trish smacks my shoulder and laughs. “This is when you say neither was Aaron and we call them both assholes and pretend not to give a shit we just bailed on two hot outlaw bikers—”

  “Uh…got ya.” I say weakly. “Aaron wasn’t all that.”

  Trish smacks me again. “Totally unconvincing, Lil. We can’t even fake-hate them. The motherfuckers.”

  “We’ll see them again,” I say while the wind roars in my ears. “They’re loyal dogs.”

  “You using some power? You prescient now? Cuz that would suck.”

  “I feel it in my gut.”

  “Speaking of which…how are you feeling?”

  Trish says it that particular way that leaves no uncertainty as to what she’s talking about. “My baby’s fine, I think.” I take a hand off the handlebar and cup it across my stomach. It’s too soon to feel anything, but I get a weird vibe, some kind of energy—

  Bah. Imagining shit.

  “I’m happy for you, Lil.”

  I’m happy too, I want to say. But I don’t. I guess I’m happy and worried, so I say, “It’s the fucking end of days, Trish. And I’m pregnant? Even before all this shit I wasn’t certain I wanted to bring another baby into the world. It’s a fucked up place. And life’s hard, you know? How do you deal with that, as a mother?”

  “Bullshit,” Trish scoffs. “People have been stressed about having babies since the dawn of time. There’s too many saber-toothed tigers! That’s what the cave-mothers used to fret about. It’ll be fine. Chill the fuck out. That baby will be loved. We’ll spoil the fuck out of him. And if shit goes down…you have a scorpion tail.”

 
“I want Aaron in my child’s life,” I say. “I want that more than anything.”

  My friend’s body tenses.

  The bike goes a little wonky, thrown off line by Trish’s uneven weight.

  “I know you do, Lil. But even if that’s not how it works out…you’re gunna be fine.”

  We ride in silence for a long while, each of us lost in thought. I have some answers to the questions that’ve plagued me since Aaron marked my neck and woke my animal. What am I? What is my role? Who are the Risen? Who is the Fallen? What happened to my mother?

  But each answer brings a new pain.

  My brother Vuk, my assailant and father of my son. Lachlan lost to his father’s madness. My mother, a Pureborn murdered. My father a lunatic who screamed the truth and was drugged into a stupor, then killed by my son. My wolf-man bloodmate the leader of the Pureblood resistance. And my Risen pack? Vuk has Shiori and my son Lachlan at his side, and there’s no reason to think he doesn’t have Rodas as well.

  Which means The Fallen has Become.

  Only I don’t sense him.

  Not even like I did before I confronted him in the Bloodless Land. He’s just…gone. Which is weird. If he was trapped in the Bloodless Land that means his body must have been killed in this world, but not completely. No one cut off his head or fed on his heart. Or else he never would’ve been prisoner in the Cliff of Cages. So somewhere…my brother’s long-dormant body has healed, and he’s digging himself out of a very musty grave—

  So he’s here. But why can’t I sense him?

  Then it hits me. He’s too weak to call his animal.

  My brother’s animal needs his packmates to fully Become, just like I was stronger with Anik and Shiori at my side.

  Which means right now Vuk is just a man.

  A Skin. Powerless. Weak.

  Walking alone in the ravaged world.

  He’ll try to convince my Risen packmates to rally behind him. Get them into the altar. Then he’ll have the strength to summon his animal, and The One Without Value will rise.

  The suffering that follows is on your head alone.

  My brother’s words.

  Making this war my fault.

  Fuck him. I won’t accept blame for his power-lust.

  I have to find him before he reaches Shiori and the Pyramid of the Sun.

  I throttle the Harley and roar past Anik while red lightning flickers in the hills around us. Rolling black clouds have settled in the broad valley the road slices through. Something prickles at the back of my neck. A weird feeling of being watched. I scan the sky, looking for vultures—

  Nothing.

  Maybe the Purebloods are on the hunt? That’s more likely.

  Damn I’m edgy.

  The Harley spits and roars and the vibrations tickle through me and the wind blasts against my sunburned skin and for a moment I feel like I did that first night Aaron and me rode into the Cascades. How he handled the bike like it was an extension of his body, hitting the curves so hard the rear tire almost cut loose, riding that fine line—

  I crest a sharp rise doing over a hundred ten. The bike lifts from the pavement. Trish shrieks and clamps her arms around my waist, throwing me off balance. The bike starts rotating slightly sideways.

  We’re only four feet off the ground, but the time seems to slow and the flight feels endless, almost like we’re suspended, gravity giving us up for goners. Odd details pop into perfect clarity: early-evening shadows stretching from the foothills, the heat shimmering off the pavement ahead, the scents of sweat and leather, oil and fear.

  It reminds me of when I drove the Harley off that cliff so I’d be sent to the Bloodless Land, only this time Trish is with me and the last thing I need is to kill my best friend cuz I got cocky with my biker boyfriend’s stolen hog—

  We land hard. The bike jerks to the left, handlebars nearly wrenching from my grasp. I grit my teeth and hang on while I’m tossed a few inches off the seat. The bike bucks wildly beneath me. Trish looses another terrified yelp and there’s a moment when I’m sure we’re fucked, the bike bouncing forward and back; one second we’re riding high on the front tire, Trish’s weight pressing me into the gas tank and my leg trailing behind, calf burning against the hot exhaust pipe, then the next we’re tossed onto the rear tire, front end off the ground and I remember how Aaron throttled the bitch when we went into that slide so I resist the urge to clamp the brake and instead feed her some fuel, the Harley’s engine redlined and roaring and the sunbaked desert whipping by in a crimson blur—

  We ride the wreck out with a squeal of tires and a burning rubber reek, my adrenaline surging from my fingertips right to my head, making me nauseous and dizzy. Trish pounds on my back, cussing me out in all sorts of well-deserved ways, then looses a wild cackle.

  I crack a broad grin, and just when I’m busy congratulating myself for my awesome bike handling skills I see him.

  A lone figure standing in the middle of the road.

  Legs straddling the yellow.

  Arms raised like some sort of Jesus-freak.

  Naked. Pale skin shining in the sunlight. Jet black hair.

  Tall, but not muscular. Skinny. Bone-thin.

  “What the fuck?” Trish yells in my ear.

  Crazy dude’s still a few miles off, so I slow down and wait for Anik. Beyond where the guy’s standing the road climbs up a long, level incline, then crests at the top of the hill and vanishes. When my bro’s at my side I punch it, intending to rip past the wandering holy man.

  He’s a half-dead Skin. Mad with hunger and thirst.

  I’m a mile out when shit starts to get weird.

  Dude’s just standing there.

  Staring me down.

  His hair’s rough-cut and thin. His face narrow. Almost…hollowed out.

  He looks like a corpse.

  But he also looks…or maybe feels…familiar.

  I ease up on the throttle. Don’t feel good about leaving him out here to die. Even if he is a Skin. I can give him some water at least.

  But those features. The brooding, half-insane black eyes.

  Something clicks.

  My heart hammers in my throat.

  The dude looks like an older version of my son.

  Lachlan.

  “You motherfucker,” I whisper.

  I crank the throttle back. Trish screams at me to slow down, but my animal’s raging to the surface. I scent him now, the acrid reek of ash and wildfire, of burned corpses and terror—

  Something pops at the base of my spine.

  Trish screams.

  My skin ripples and bulges and my jaw lengthens. A loud, rage-filled howl rips from my lungs. I lower my chest onto the bike, eyes narrowed, my fangs dripping spit, my vision throbbing red because I scent him, my ancient enemy, The One Without Value.

  My brother.

  Vuk stands motionless as I hurl toward him.

  Five seconds and I’ll be on him.

  Eons of suffering and death because of this pale-skinned prick.

  My creature shrieks in kill-lust. This is all she ever wanted. All she lived for. An opportunity to stand against her brother. To avenge her family and her pack…and herself.

  Three seconds.

  He’s gotta call his animal. That’s why he’s here. To try and force me to yield. But Vuk’s still standing still, arms raised, head lifted to the blazing sun, eyes closed and I reach a hand out and drop my claws, four fucking inches of razored death. I’m going to cut the dickhead in half. Feed on his beating black heart. End the One War with a single swipe—

  He’s not changing. Just a man.

  Two seconds.

  Just a man. A weak, pathetic sack of shit Skin.

  I’ll cut him in half regardless. For what he did. For what—

  “No!” I scream, lifting my clawed hand away from my brother’s neck and as we tear past a slight smile flickers across his pale lips. I hit the brakes hard, melting rubber for a hundred and fifty feet, and before the bike’s eve
n stopped I’m leaping off, taking Trish with me.

  We hit the ground and roll.

  The butt of Trish’s AK slams into the small of my back, at the tender spot where my tail’s punching free. The pavement takes a good amount of skin from my arms and knees. Trish rolls into the dust and sand on the side of the road and when she stops she’s moaning, shaking her head, hurt but not mortally—

  Then I’m on my feet, arms raised in front of my face to ward off the killing blow I know is coming.

  But there’s nothing.

  I take a sharp breath and peer up the road.

  Vuk’s walking toward us, his steps slow and measured, like he’s sauntering poolside—

  “You stay right the fuck there!” I scream, a wave of rolling heat escaping my lips.

  Anik roars by, steers his Harley into the sand and lays it down hard in a stand of scrub oak.

  Vuk keeps walking toward us.

  Calm. Unhurried.

  Trish is on her knees, messing with the jammed AK, which would be laughable if it wasn’t so useless—

  Vuk still hasn’t changed, and then I realize I was right, he can’t summon his animal, he’s too weak without his packmates bowing to him as alpha.

  Kill him.

  The words so overpowering I spit another wave of heat. It rolls into the desert, searing the sand black and igniting anything in its path.

  “Freeze, motherfucker!” Trish yells, the AK resting against her shoulder, falling back on her cop training.

  Vuk takes another step. Then another.

  His eyes are flat and emotionless.

  Trish looses a few rounds. They shower around Vuk’s feet, sending bursts of dust and pavement into the air.

  Vuk’s expression doesn’t change.

  “Lil?” Trish says. “Should I shoot him? Who is he? Lil? Lil!”

  I saw him feasting on my father’s insides. Watched him take my mother for a mate. He possessed Connor Lerrick and hunted me down. Raped me in a rain-soaked alley.

  “He’s my brother,” I say in a voice like cold gravel. “And we’re going to kill him.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ANIK

  I HEAR LILY say the pale man is her brother.

  My brother too. At first I think she means Rodas. Then I stagger from the scrub oak, my cuts and bruises healing over, and get a look at Lily’s face.