Feral Seduction (Feral Protectors 2)

by Liv Brywood

  She leaned back against the couch. She’d wait until he fell asleep, then take the gun. She could hide in the forest until the sun came up. Even if it took all day, she’d find her way back to her uncle’s house. It couldn’t be too much further. She’d already traveled for hours, so she had to be close.

  While she waited for Stryde to fall asleep, she stared into the flames. This nightmare would be over soon. Her uncle was the sheriff and he’d know how to protect her.

  Within an hour, Stryde’s eyelids began to droop. He yawned and pulled a blanket over him. Every few seconds, his eyes would snap open as he struggled to stay awake. She wouldn’t have to wait much longer.

  His gorgeous gray eyes finally closed and his breathing grew slow and steady. In any other situation, she’d love to stay and stare at him for hours. His coppery skin hinted at a life spent outdoors. His large hand relaxed and the gun slid into his lap.

  She sighed. Someday, she’d find a man as sexy as this one and settle down. She knew in her heart that she deserved a life better than the one she’d been forced to live so far. Once her uncle stopped her stalker, she’d be free.

  After she quickly dressed in her dry clothes, she cautiously approached her sleeping protector. Her hand lingered above the sexy five-o’clock shadow along his jawline. Her fingers itched to touch him, just once. But she couldn’t risk waking him, so she settled for grazing his short black hair with her fingertips.

  As she reached into his lap, she held her breath. She grabbed the butt of the gun between her thumb and forefinger and gently lifted it. His breathing stayed even. His eyes didn’t open. With the gun secure, she took one last look at him before setting out into the starlit night.

  Chapter 3

  Stryde waited until Brandy closed the front door before opening his eyes. He didn’t attempt to stop her. She was clearly hiding something but he needed to stay out of it. The last time he’d tried to help someone in trouble, he’d lost the love of his life. If the crazy woman wanted to traipse off into the woods alone, let her.

  He glanced out the window. The navy-blue sky heralded the coming sun. He padded to the kitchen and grabbed a bowl of water. After dousing the few remaining embers in the fireplace, he stripped off the human clothing. He stretched his arms and legs, enjoying the freedom of movement.

  If he hurried, he could still make it to Ryker and Diana’s life-mate ceremony. He opened the door to a light dusting of snow. A single set of small tracks took off into the forest. They had to belong to Brandy.

  Since they were pointed in the same general direction he was going, he decided to follow them until he reached the path to Ryker’s den.

  Stubborn woman. Her hardheadedness would get her killed. He didn’t want more blood on his hands and she wasn’t his responsibility. He was only following her because he was headed in the same general direction.

  He jogged along the trail and easily followed it into the tree line. Her tracks wound through the pristine snow as if she wasn’t quite sure which direction to head. For someone who claimed to know exactly where she was going, she sure took a circuitous path.

  As he approached the cutoff to the trail to Ryker’s den, he studied the woman’s trail. It veered off toward the river. He avoided that part of the forest at all costs and he wasn’t about to go in that direction and risk drudging up his hellish past.

  Still, he wanted to be sure she knew where she was going. He’d jogged a few yards down the path when he saw a second set of tracks. Damn.

  The shoe size and length of stride was consistent with the man he’d chased during the night. He couldn’t leave now. It was one thing to walk the other way when a person refused your help. But it was another thing to turn your back on someone in immediate danger. He had no doubt that someone evil was stalking Brandy. He’d felt that dark, negative energy once before, from the man who’d killed Leah. Stryde had sensed the same energy in the woods last night.

  He raced down the path. He wanted to change into wolf form but couldn’t risk the few moments of total vulnerability he’d endure during the change. The stalker could be just around the corner and if he wasn’t fully shifted, he’d be completely defenseless.

  Up ahead, he heard a high-pitched scream—Brandy’s.

  He sprinted down the path and through the trees. The cries sounded so close, but the forest could play tricks with sound. She could be a few yards ahead, or a mile. He prayed it was the latter.

  He rounded a corner and spotted a man dressed in camouflage dashing through an open meadow. An olive-green ski mask disguised his identity. Big black boots left a trail of crushed wildflowers in his wake. He held a gun in one hand, and a backpack bounced against his back as he ran. The stalker radiated malicious intent.

  Stryde raced into the tree line and skirted the edge of the meadow. If he could reach Brandy before the stalker, then he had a chance to save her.

  His bare feet pounded through the dirt. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the stalker. Stryde was gaining ground on him.

  Suddenly, the stalker skidded to a halt. He pointed the gun and fired. Wood splintered off a tree a few feet from Stryde. Damn, he’d been spotted.

  He veered right, then left. As he zigzagged through the forest, he fought the urge to shift. He definitely didn’t have enough time. He cursed himself for not taking the time earlier. Had he shifted, the fight would be over in seconds.

  The forest floor slanted at an angle. The rushing sounds of the river sent a chill down his spine. He needed to find a place to hide. Once he hit that beach, he’d be an easy target. He sprinted toward an outcropping of rocks.

  Someone rose up from behind a large boulder. Breath whooshed from his chest when he realized it was Brandy. Thank God she was still alive.

  “You have to hide, now!” she yelled.

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her into a crevasse between two huge boulders. They barely had enough room to stand upright.

  “That man is coming for me.” Her voice edged toward hysterics.

  “Shh,” he whispered.

  He only had a few seconds to spare before the stalker found them. It might not be enough time to shift, but he had no choice but to try. The only way they’d get away from the man was if they could outrun him. In human form, it would be impossible. But in wolf form, they stood a chance.

  He turned his full attention to Brandy. “I’m about to do something that you won’t understand. But we only have one option right now. Do you trust me?”

  She immediately replied, “Yes.”

  “I swear I won’t hurt you. Climb on when I’m done.”

  He couldn’t wait another second. As he shifted, his bones cracked and reformed. His hands and arms stretched to become paws. His legs bent to become hind legs. His feet morphed into paws. Fur grew over his entire body. His incisor teeth elongated along with his face.

  Brandy backed out of the rock shelter. A look of pure horror darkened her features. With her hand over her mouth, she whispered, “Oh my God.”

  ***

  Brandy stumbled back as the monstrous creature advanced. Her eyes went wide as she struggled to reconcile what she’d just witnessed. Marge and the other waitresses had spread rumors about werewolves living in the woods. Marge had even claimed that the wild beasts waited high up in the trees, ready to pounce on unsuspecting humans.

  Brandy had laughed at the time. Werewolves—at least Marge had created an original excuse to keep her from entering the woods. She’d never believed her friend, not until now.

  “Stay away,” she yelped.

  The werewolf’s enormous paws clawed at the ground as if to express impatience. Could the thing still think in that state? Was it trying to communicate with her?

  The wolf’s huge jaw moved and his lips stretched to bare his teeth. He glared at something behind her, then growled the most bone-chilling sound she’d ever heard in her life.

  She spun to see the stalker running up the beach toward them. She turned to the wolf, who swung his head
toward his back. He’d said to climb on. Caught between two dangerous men, she chose the one who hadn’t shown any intent to harm her.

  Her fingers dug into his thick red-brown coat. She swung her leg over his back and held on for dear life as he bounded across the beach. As he splashed through a shallow part of the river, a shot rang out.

  Between her thighs, his huge leg and back muscles contracted, then sprung forward as the wolf leapt to the other side. They landed on the beach. The werewolf didn’t stop or look back as he scampered up the side of the mountain.

  Behind her, she heard the man splashing through the river, but he couldn’t possibly catch them, not with the way the wolf ran.

  She clung to his back to keep from falling as the wolf continued up the mountain trail. Her legs and arms ached, but she was terrified of losing her grip. Even when he slowed his gait, she still hung on tightly.

  The wolf picked his way up a switchback trail. She couldn’t see anything over his huge head, so she looked to the side facing away from the mountain.

  She immediately wished she’d kept her eyes closed. They were on a narrow trail with a steep drop-off to the valley below. Every few feet, rocks would slide out from under the wolf’s paws and careen down the mountain.

  Images of falling to her death flashed before her eyes. Had they escaped the stalker only to die by falling off the side of a mountain?

  She had no choice but to trust the wolf. So far, he hadn’t done anything to hurt her. He’d only tried to protect her. But, he was an animal. A freak of nature. Could she trust someone, no, something like him?

  After what seemed like an eternity, the wolf’s long strides took them into a cave. He lay down in the center of the cave. She slid off his side and stood in awe as his bones cracked and receded. Fur retracted into his skin. His paws became hands and feet. His large mouth and snout morphed back into his human face.

  When he was finished, his gorgeous gray eyes stared at her. He stood naked before her. Tense, as if waiting for her to freak out. She backed away on instinct.

  “Well?” he asked, almost sheepishly.

  “You’re a—”

  “Werewolf,” he supplied.

  “How?”

  “Werewolves have existed for centuries. We hide in the forest and stay away from humans. All you do is cause trouble.” He scowled.

  “I just… I can’t believe it.”

  “Even though you saw me shift?”

  “Yes. No. I mean… I’ve heard the rumors, but I thought it was just an old wives’ tale, or something to keep kids from wandering off into the woods.”

  “We’re real. I’m real. You’re one of the few humans to ever witness a werewolf shifting.”

  She glanced around the cave. A stone dais had been carved out of the mountain and ran the length of the back wall. Furs of all shapes, sizes and colors decorated it. If she had to guess, it looked like a bed.

  A pit near the center of the room held the burnt remains of a fire. Tiny bones littered the charred area. She shuddered. Did he eat small animals here? Would he eat her?

  She noted the few gourds lying in a pile near the entrance. He probably captured water in them. The river would be too far to trek to every few hours.

  “Do you live here?”

  “No. This place actually belongs to my friend. I don’t come here, ever.” His voice dropped on the last word. There had to be a story behind that, but he didn’t seem inclined to share it and she was too afraid to ask.

  “Thank you, for saving me from that man.”

  Stryde, in all his naked glory, strode to the dais and sat on the pile of furs. When he met her wandering gaze, she blushed and looked away. He seemed totally unaware of his effect on her. Or maybe he was just being polite.

  He patted the furs beside him. “Sit down. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

  She sat on the far end of the dais and turned to face him.

  He regarded her with a grave expression. “Are you ready to tell me the truth about what’s going on?”

  She sighed. After saving her from that madman, Stryde deserved the truth. “My father killed someone. Her name was Annabelle and now her father wants revenge.”

  “Your father killed her?”

  “It was an accident. He has a drinking problem.” She paused. “No, that’s too nice of a way of putting it. He’s a drunk. He was drinking and driving when he killed her.”

  “Did he die too? In the accident?” Stryde asked.

  “No.” She laughed bitterly. “The doctor said that the alcohol loosened up his muscles. He’d left a trail of destruction from the bar to the intersection in the middle of town where he hit Annabelle.”

  “So he’s in jail?”

  “Yep. At midday and with the town square full, over thirty people witnessed the accident. The trial was over before it began and my father ended up getting four years in state prison.”

  “Only four years?” Stryde blurted.

  She hung her head. “Yeah, can you believe that? He killed someone and that’s his punishment. Everyone in Joshua Village, my hometown, was outraged. They said it wasn’t enough time. And I hate to say it, but I agree.”

  “Was it his first drunk driving accident?”

  “No. He’d had others, but he’d never killed anyone before. I guess it was only a matter of time. I should have done something. I should have figured out a way to stop him.”

  “You aren’t responsible for someone else’s actions. If he was stupid enough to drive while drunk, it’s on him, not you.”

  She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. The guilt eating away at her soul never seemed to lessen. She should have done something. The dead woman’s blood was on her hands too. She’d never stop regretting Annabelle’s death. She was just as responsible as him.

  “I could have found a way to stop it. I just needed to try harder. I gave up too soon.”

  Stryde scooted closer to her. “Look at me.”

  She sniffed and looked up. His gentle gray eyes shimmered with pity. She hated that look. She’d endured the glares and gossip of the other townspeople and figured it was just part of her punishment. But she couldn’t stand the other looks, the looks of pity.

  “Anyway, that’s why her father’s after me. He wants revenge. He left a voicemail on my phone the night before last and said he was coming for vengeance.”

  “Did you go to the police?” Stryde asked.

  A logical idea, but the police would never believe her. One of the cops had even told her that poisoned fruit didn’t fall far from the tree. “I can’t exactly do that.”

  “Why?”

  “They won’t believe me. Anyway, I’m headed into Full Moon Bay to see my uncle. He’s the sheriff and—”

  Stryde’s head snapped up. “Sheriff Watkins is your uncle?”

  “Yes, do you know him?”

  Stryde smirked. “I had a bit of a run-in with him a few months back. He told me in no uncertain terms that if I ever showed my face in his town again, he’d put a bullet in my head. Nice guy, that sheriff.”

  “That doesn’t sound like my uncle at all.”

  “You’re his niece. It might be different for you. Hopefully he’ll believe you and be able to protect you.”

  “I need to get to him as soon as possible. Can you help me?”

  Stryde nodded. “I can get you to the edge of town, but you’re on your own from there. I don’t want a shotgun shoved in my face.”

  “Thank you. Do you think the guy’s still out there? Waiting?”

  “If he’s really as hell-bent on revenge as you say he is, then yes. He won’t give up that easily.”

  “If he’s still out there, how am I going to get to town?”

  Stryde said, “We’ll wait until nightfall. Then I’ll take you to the edge of the forest.”

  She leaned across the furs and grabbed his hand. As she squeezed it, she said, “Thank you. I don’t know how I can repay you for your kindness.”

  As h
is gaze raked over her body, heat churned in her core. His smoky eyes darkened and for a moment, she could have sworn they twinkled with desire.

  Chapter 4

  Stryde disentangled his hand from hers. Her soft, feminine skin felt too good. He needed to squash the surge of desire building in his body before he embarrassed himself. “I don’t think you got a wink of sleep last night. You should get some before we leave.”

  He slid off the bed and walked to the entrance to the cave. He leaned one arm against the wall and stared out into the valley. He hated this place.

  “What about you? Don’t you need to sleep also?” Brandy asked.

  He didn’t turn around. “I don’t think I’ll sleep anytime soon.”

  He stepped onto the ledge overlooking the river, and the beach where Leah had been killed. The last time he’d been in this cave was the last time he’d seen her.

  I will come back to you, I promise. The last words he’d ever spoken to Leah before she was murdered reverberated in his mind. A fissure of pain sliced through his chest. If he’d known the danger she was about to face, he never would have left her. Never. Now he’d have to live with his terrible choice for the rest of his life.

  As he gazed at the spot on the beach where he’d found her dead, he choked back a sob. Now wasn’t the time to fall apart. He’d completely failed Leah, but he could at least help Brandy get to her uncle’s house. Although how much help he’d be remained to be seen.

  He heard Brandy’s small footsteps approach. He flinched when she touched his arm.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” he replied gruffly.

  “Come and rest with me. I doubt he’ll find us here and I’d rather have you alert later.” She gently tugged his arm.

  He turned and looked down at her. She wasn’t anything like Leah. Where Leah was fit and athletic, Brandy was soft, with wickedly sexy curves. Her hair was slightly shorter than Leah’s, but no less enticing. Her stunning green eyes flickered with concern. How long had it been since someone had cared about him?