by Dannika Dark
THREE HOURS
A Seven Series Novel
Book 5
USA Today Bestselling Author
DANNIKA DARK
All Rights Reserved
Copyright © 2015 Dannika Dark
No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author. You must not circulate this book in any format. Thank you for respecting the rights of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Edited by Victory Editing and Red Adept. Cover design by Dannika Dark. All stock purchased.
www.dannikadark.net
Fan page located on Facebook
Summary
Naya James is a confident woman who also happens to be an exotic dancer. She doesn’t care if people judge her, just so long as they don’t disrespect her. Life has been good, but when two dancers from her club are kidnapped, Naya risks everything to uncover the truth.
Wheeler is the black sheep of the family, evident from his extensive tattoo collection to his dark personality. Nothing like his twin brother, Ben, who can do no wrong. Wheeler’s pack loyalty is put to the test when Austin orders him to act as a bodyguard for a woman he’s despised for years—one who presses his buttons every chance she gets.
A dark secret unravels, uniting two enemies and threatening to fracture the brotherhood of the pack. A tortured soul, a violent past, a fiery romance, and a shocking twist that will leave you breathless.
Book 5
Also By Dannika Dark:
THE MAGERI SERIES
Sterling
Twist
Impulse
Gravity
Shine
NOVELLAS
Closer
THE SEVEN SERIES
Seven Years
Six Months
Five Weeks
Four Days
Three Hours
Table Of Contents
Summary
Prologue
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
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
No man had ever offered me his heart.
In three hours, one man offered me his life.
Prologue
Wheeler rubbed his eyes and sat on a wooden step that led off the main porch of their oversized house. He was drained after pulling an all-nighter and helping Lexi review the company expenses. She owned Sweet Treats and did a damn fine job, but one person couldn’t do it all. April managed the first location on the human side of town—the one that sold candy—and Lexi had hired Izzy to manage the bakery in the Breed district. Lexi didn’t want to close the candy store, even if it meant having to deal with the IRS.
Breed didn’t associate with humans. They established their own banks, bought and leased land, ran their own businesses, and didn’t pay one goddamn dime in taxes. There they were, smack-dab in the middle of the city and off the human radar. But since Lexi had chosen to keep the original store, she needed someone to help sort out quarterly payments, licenses, contracts, and handle number crunching to maximize profits. Austin, his Packmaster and brother, had voluntold him for the job, so it wasn’t like he had a lot of choice in the matter. Wheeler had a professional background in finance and contracts, so there was no getting out of it.
Sweet Treats had become a family business for the Weston pack. Three years ago, Lexi had signed a lease in the Breed district to open up the second location, serving pastries and coffee. The bakery made a hell of a profit—more income than they could have ever imagined for a start-up company. Successful establishments were usually restaurants, bars, or clubs, so they capitalized on the absence of specialty shops. Lexi could bake her ass off and had taken several courses at the human college to combine the school’s techniques with her natural abilities. Trevor had even gotten in on the action, playing his acoustic in the back corner whenever it was slow, attracting new customers walking by. His main job, however, was working behind the counter, passing out compliments with the cupcakes. Flirty bastard.
Wheeler tapped his shoe against the porch step, swatting at a dizzy gnat. A gust of wind knocked around an old swing hanging from a branch of the oak tree that was about fifty feet ahead to his left. April’s hummingbird feeder in the redbud tree needed a refill. He admired the property spread out before him—over one hundred acres of land with the option to buy more as the Weston pack grew in size. The driveway on his right led to a private road, and there was plenty of room to park their cars. High grass and wildflowers led down to a grove of trees and a shallow creek on his left.
“I’ll be back later!” Lexi yelled excitedly as she raced past Wheeler and down the steps.
The only thing he caught sight of was her long hair, long legs, and sneakers without socks.
Austin swaggered out and leaned over the wooden railing, water dripping from the ends of his dark hair and running down his bare back. “Damn, I love that woman when she’s fired up like that.”
“So we all heard last night,” Denver grumbled. He got up from his chair and walked barefoot into the house. April briefly peered over the top of her book before turning the page.
The brothers were spaced apart a good deal in years, except for Denver and Austin, who only had fifteen years between them. You’d never guess by their personalities that Denver was the older of the two, not to mention he didn’t look a day over thirty. That’s just how Shifters aged.
“Where’s your woman off to?” Wheeler asked, resting his forearms on his knees.
Austin scratched his unshaven jaw. “She’s heading out to see that friend of hers, Naya. Lexi wants to do something or other with the menu, and Naya knows someone who designs those things. I don’t think it’s a big mystery to figure out what a bakery sells, but Lexi wants to spend some money on those little paper menus to put in everyone’s bag. Now, whose idea was that?” he asked, glaring down at Wheeler.
“Sometimes you have to spend money to make money,” Wheeler said indifferently. “That kind of litter sits around a person’s house and begs them to buy more cookies. You said you wanted my help, so if you got a problem with it—”
“No, you’re good.” Austin swept his wet hair back and shook the water from his hands. “But now she’s thinking about redoing the menu and adding things. Whatever she comes up with, I’ll need you to look it over and double-check the cost analysis. She’s stressing herself out over ways to make more money.”
“I get the impression you’re helping her work out that stress.”
Austin chuckled, and mischief flashed in his eyes. “I appreciate what you’ve done to help out with the business. You’ve pulled your weight in adding money to the pot; just thought you should know that.” He shielded his pale blue eyes from the bright sun. “You ever think about getting another job? I know Sweet Treats has a lot going on, but we can manage if you want to branch out. There are plenty of Packmasters who could use professional advice in overseeing the
ir money and building on that. Wouldn’t hurt pack relations with them, either.”
Damn, Wheeler hated this conversation. Wasn’t he already doing enough managing their own finances? He just wasn’t at a place where he was ready to put himself out there again. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
A ladybug flew in Austin’s direction and landed on his tatted shoulder. Austin grinned and let it crawl on his finger, watching its wings buzz frantically as it tried to figure out if it wanted to trust a wolf. “Why don’t you follow Lexi and see what those two are up to? Make sure Naya doesn’t talk her into something stupid, like selling alcohol.”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” Wheeler said gruffly.
“Look, they’ve been best friends for years, and I don’t see that friendship ending anytime soon. You need to get over whatever issues you’ve got with Naya. I know you’ve got a thing about hating cats, but we don’t have any proof of what her animal is. She’s probably messing with our heads, and someday we’ll find out she’s really a mare. Even still, that’s a shitty excuse to hate a woman.” Austin tapped his hand on the wooden ledge and headed back inside.
Everyone surmised Naya’s animal was a cat, although Wheeler’s twin brother had made a bet on a grizzly bear. On the few occasions when she’d swing by the house or meet them at Howlers, Wheeler would slip the fuck out. He didn’t want to risk another confrontation with an unpredictable woman like her.
One who had slapped him in public four years ago. And no, he couldn’t let it go. Man, if his brothers had witnessed that scene, they would never have let him live it down. Shifter women knew how to keep a man in line, but there was a certain level of respect afforded a wolf in front of his pack. Clearly, Naya wasn’t a wolf.
And yet he couldn’t forget that molten kiss she’d planted on him not two seconds after striking him. The sharp sting on his cheek combined with her lush lips moving across his mouth had fired up his wolf—the traitorous bastard. Wheeler had never simultaneously felt so much loathing and lust for anyone. Maybe that’s why he kept his distance; no woman should have that kind of influence over a man. Naya had given him a verbal declaration of war—her kiss a sample of what he’d never have. That was pretty arrogant on her part to assume he’d care, and yet all these years later, he still thought about that kiss.
“Where do you want to go for your birthday, sweet pea?” April asked Maizy from their gliding chairs next to the front door.
Maizy had her legs drawn up in the chair and was preoccupied with braiding a strand of her blond hair. It was May, and that meant eleven candles on her birthday cake. Time had flown by so fast, and she’d gone from princess movies and pink outfits to riding a bike and reading books. Most Shifters homeschooled their children, so she hadn’t been influenced by human culture outside of a little television. Reno thought she’d learn more from the world watching his action movies than some of the other drivel she enjoyed about fairy tales.
Maizy peeled up the corner of the Band-Aid on her knee, exposing a cut she’d gotten while speeding down the driveway on her bike and hitting the brakes too hard. She’d been alone at the time and hadn’t asked permission to ride. After Reno had heard what happened, he bought Maizy a helmet, something she’d not had since none of them thought she’d need one out in the country. Lynn had grounded her from riding the bike for a week, but Maizy took her punishments without complaint.
Wheeler scooted to the left and leaned against the banister, watching with amusement as the two humans conversed without looking at each other. April had her nose buried in a novel, and a yellow butterfly briefly caught Maizy’s attention as it fluttered by.
“Eleven is a big day,” April continued in a singsong voice. “That means we have to have something very special for the birthday girl.”
A smile wound up Maizy’s face and pressed dimples into her cheeks. She had reached an awkward stage where she was suddenly self-conscious about how she looked. She was taller and leaner now and had quit pulling her hair up into a ponytail with clips. It seemed like she didn’t really know how to wear it anymore, so it had grown long and wavy. Her top second incisor was slightly crooked from an accident she had on the swing years ago, and while Lynn had suggested braces, the men had talked Maizy out of it. Shifters didn’t have to deal with those kinds of imperfections, but they’d learned a thing or two while living with humans. Maizy was beautiful just the way she was, and they didn’t like the idea of metal wires in her mouth that would make her think she was less than perfect.
“I don’t really care,” Maizy said. “It’s no big deal.”
Wheeler cracked his knuckles and felt a hot coal sitting in his stomach. Maybe Shifters didn’t make a big deal out of birthdays, but some of the men were looking forward to her party. The reason behind Maizy’s sulking was that she had no friends her age to invite. Sometimes the Shifters from neighboring packs let their kids play with her, but most didn’t mingle with humans because they perceived them as inferior.
Bastards.
“Well?” April pressed. “If you could have anything you wanted for dinner on your birthday, what would it be?”
“I don’t know,” Maizy replied. “Pizza, I guess.”
A smile touched April’s lips. Maizy’s love for pizza was no secret, so that’s what they’d been planning. They were going to take her to Pizza Zone and do the whole cake, ice cream, and presents there. Then she could play with some of the other human children.
Denver shouldered the front door open. “Come help me eat this thing,” he said to Maizy while carrying a large green watermelon.
He set it behind Wheeler and began slicing wedges with a large butcher knife.
“That’s going to attract ants,” April said, watching the juice spill onto the porch and drip through the cracks.
“I thought all the ants were in your pants,” he said.
Maizy giggled and took the wedge he handed her.
“Hold on, Peanut. Let me show you how to eat a watermelon proper.”
“There’s a proper way?” Wheeler asked with amusement. “This I need to see.”
Denver ran his hand through his wavy blond hair, slicking it back with the sticky juice from his fingers. He stood up and leaned against the railing. “Damn right there’s a way you’re supposed to eat these. Watch and learn from the master.”
Maizy glanced up at Denver with inquisitive blue eyes, waiting to see what he was going to do. Denver mashed his face in the sweet melon and Maizy smiled, setting her piece on top of the ledge before the juice ran all the way up her arm.
When Denver lifted his face, a rivulet of pink juice dribbled down his chin. He chewed a few times and then spit the black seeds across the lawn.
“Holy smokes, Denver! That’s disgusting!” April shot out of her chair and went inside.
Wheeler grinned when Maizy tried to imitate Denver, except she spit the entire bite of melon out. Undeterred, she tried again.
“Don’t swallow the seeds, whatever you do.”
“Why not?” she asked with a mouthful of fruit.
“Because,” Denver replied in a deadpan voice, “you’ll grow a watermelon in your belly.”
Her eyes widened. “Nuh-uh.”
Wheeler stood up and went inside the house. He headed upstairs to his bedroom and closed the door, immersing himself in darkness. A few of the rooms were in the center of the house and didn’t have windows. He liked it there. Everyone else had chosen the outer halls and it gave him privacy.
After locking the door, Wheeler paced toward his desk and switched on the green lamp. He straightened up a few papers before relaxing in his leather office chair—the one with a small tear in the seat. Sometimes he’d poke his finger at it, even knowing it would get bigger, but he found solace in that small imperfection. His chair didn’t feel any less comfortable, and yet most people would have thrown it out and replaced it because of that defect.
Voices drifted up from the lower level, and someone ran down the hall. By the heavy footfalls,
it sounded like one of his brothers.
Wheeler pulled open a small drawer in the hutch. He slipped his fingers inside a slim black case and pulled out a pair of reading glasses. They were black with rectangular frames. No one but Ben knew he wore glasses. Shifters didn’t have defects such as vision impairment, tooth decay, and diseases that were prevalent among humans. Their bodies healed, and you just didn’t see Shifters walking around with glasses on. Many years ago, Wheeler began getting headaches and noticed he had to hold papers farther away to see the print, which seemed to be getting infinitely smaller. He’d attributed it to long work hours, but when it didn’t go away, he secretly made an appointment with a human ophthalmologist. His fears of genetic abnormalities were abated when a simple pair of reading glasses rectified his problem. Shifters instinctively hid anything that others would perceive as a weakness. Because he’d always worked from home, it was something he could easily conceal.
Until he moved in with his brothers. Whenever they’d shove papers under his nose to read, Wheeler would become argumentative and storm out of the room so he could review them later in private. He kept his room off-limits and installed a lock on the door. Ben, his identical twin, didn’t have the same deficiency. Wheeler could only draw the conclusion that he was genetically inferior to his brother, and wasn’t that a laugh?
As a twin, he’d always felt like half of a whole. They weren’t treated as individuals, and he loathed when people referred to them as “the twins.” As small children, when Ben misbehaved, he’d blame Wheeler. It was an innocent thing that stemmed from a child who sought approval. After a while, Wheeler didn’t flinch when their father would reprimand him for something he didn’t do. Wasn’t that what brothers did? Look out for each other? Several years ago, Ben had crossed a line and betrayed him. That’s when solitude had consumed Wheeler and he’d given up caring. After everything he’d given Ben to show his loyalty and love, he realized it had been in vain. And yet he still couldn’t turn his back on blood, nor could he reveal to the rest of the family what had happened between them. It hurt to smile because that would mean forgetting. It felt like a liar’s mask.
