by Iona Strom
Keeping his eyes trained on every muscle twitch of the trio preparing to attack, he caught a glimpse of two huge figures running toward them. At first glance, he assumed they were humans who could prove to be just as dangerous as the rivals in front of him.
Maybe he could use the newcomers as a distraction to escape what was sure to be a fight to his death. As their scents invaded his lungs, he pulled more of their unfamiliar essence inside. They were definitely not of the Homo sapiens variety.
The smaller of the two males running toward them was waving his arms around and clapping his hands, successfully chasing away two of the snarling pack.
However, Micah didn’t give up so easily. Turning on the male making all the noise, he lunged forward only to be pushed back, landing hard on his rump. Snapping his teeth with his fuzzy scruff standing on end, Micah started to attack again. As the male assumed a defensive posture, the purebred thought better of it and turned, running away.
The larger of the two males reached down and scooped Sevin up in his huge arms. Biting down hard on the male’s thumb, the blood that flowed out was hot, nearly burning his mouth. Being up close and personal with the male’s scent, his nose had not failed him. This was definitely not a human or a shifter.
He had no idea what this male… thing was that was holding him.
Soothing words were spoken even with his sharp-as-needles puppy teeth embedded in the male’s thumb.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, little one,” the male gently cooed. “You’re safe with us. Now, can you turn loose of my thumb? That’s quite a grip you’ve got going on.”
His fear quickly turned to longing. A desire for comfort and care where none had ever existed. Releasing the male’s thumb, he licked at the wound he’d created before shifting back into his human form. Letting go of the thin restraint he had on his trembling, he wrapped his arms around the thick neck of the huge male and held on tight.
The male stroked over his silvery hair and down his small back, continuing with the comforting words that made him feel like he mattered to someone even though he was a complete stranger.
“Damn, Vex, he’s cute as shit,” the smaller male said.
Peering over the shoulder of the stranger who held him, he got a look at the other male. With longish mahogany hair and kind blue eyes, Sevin couldn’t help the grin that touched his face. The male smiled back with a lightness that eased him further.
“Watch out, he bites,” the one named Vex remarked.
“He’s just scared,” the long-haired one reasoned. “Aren’t you, buddy?”
Nodding his head against Vex’s shoulder, he snuggled in deeper.
“You have nothing to fear from us. I’m Lucian, by the way, and that’s Vex,” the long-haired male said. “Where do you live, so we can take you home?”
“Can’t go back there.” Sevin shivered.
Vex opened his jacket and wrapped the two halves of heavy leather around his little body. Small for a toddler, he was instantly warmed from the heat the male was throwing, soothing away his trembles.
“Were those three shifters part of your pack?” Vex asked.
Nodding, he wasn’t sure how much he should say.
“Why were they chasing you?” Vex asked.
How to answer that one? Telling these males of his inadequacy might cause him more trouble. Convinced they wouldn’t help him if they knew he was a half-breed, he kept his lips tightly closed.
Lucian came around to stand behind Vex. Locking eyes with the male, from out of nowhere, he was suddenly infused with trust. His voice found, the desire to tell his story was imperative.
“Mom was human,” he began. “My pack don’t want me.”
“What about your sire?” Lucian asked.
“He don’t care. He let them chase me.”
“Where’s your mother?” Lucian asked.
“Her died,” he said in a small voice.
“Jesus-fucking-Christ,” Vex swore.
“What’s your name, tiny shifter?” Lucian asked, his words as soft as a caress.
“Sewin.”
“Sorry. I didn’t catch that.”
Speaking slower, he tried but failed to keep the lisp from his speech. “Se-win. With an “i” instead of an “e.”
He huffed out a breath, aggravated he could never make that “v” sound right.
The male looked at him for a long moment, his eyes studying his face as if trying to decipher what he had just said. “Do you mean like the number, but spelled differently? Do you mean Sevin?”
“Yes,” he nodded excitedly. It was so nice to be understood.
“How old are you?”
“Two olds.”
“You’re only two years old?” Lucian held up two fingers as he spoke.
He nodded.
“You don’t have any other place you can go where you’ll be safe and cared for?” Lucian asked.
He shook his head sadly.
“We can’t just leave him on the street,” Vex said. “He can come home with me.”
“Are you prepared to become a parent, Vex, because he’s just a little boy,” Lucian remarked.
“You heard what he said, hippie,” Vex retorted. “He’s half-human. They will eventually kill him. His own sire won’t even protect him. If he has no place else to go, I’ll take him in.”
The words were spoken with such conviction, they warmed him from the inside out.
“You can count me in,” Lucian said to Vex. His attention shifting back to Sevin. “What you think, Sevin? Want to come live with a demon and an angel?”
Otherworldlies!
He wouldn’t have guessed that. Stunned at the announcement, his eyes grew wide. Talk about protection. No one, not even his sire who was alpha of his pack, would go up against these guys.
And, they wanted to adopt him?
Nodding vigorously, he wondered which one was the demon and who was the angel. He’d only heard stories about their kind, he’d never actually seen them with his own eyes until now.
Going by the heat of the blood he’d tasted, he’d venture to guess the one holding him, Vex to be the demon. Besides, the one with the long hair was too beautiful to be anything but an angel.
“That settles it,” Vex said, carrying him out of the alley and onto the sidewalk. “He comes home with me.”
“Us,” Lucian corrected. “He comes home with us.”
“He’s lighter than a feather,” Vex mumbled. “Are you hungry, little guy?”
He nodded, just the thought of food making him salivate. How long had it been since he’d last managed to sneak some crumbs leftover from the purebred puppies in the pack?
After his mom had died soon after giving birth to him, he’d been retrieved by his sire who was no doubt shocked he had even been conceived at all, then he’d been unceremoniously dumped off on the females of the pack. They hadn’t wanted to deal with a half-human reject either.
Given just enough sustenance, so he didn’t perish, he’d been left on his own to mostly fend for himself. The other pups were allowed to abuse him any way they had seen fit, but after two years of him living off the edge of the pack, they had decided to be finished with him.
That was what all the running for his life had been about.
He had been set upon by the three youngest and strongest in the pack. Micah was leader material and had been encouraged by his sire to initiate a brawl. He’d gained his usual two friends as backup with a simple look and a sneer.
Sevin had been cowering in his usual corner when the three approached. Moving out into the open, he would have a better fighting chance rather than his back already up against a wall.
The three began circling him. Looked like he was to be tonight’s entertainment—a fight to the death.
His death.
The three were given permission by his own sire to make sport of him before tearing him to pieces. Just as the festivities began, the pack’s drunk had tripped over his own feet, creating the distrac
tion he needed to make a run for it.
Pushing through the door of the run-down apartment building the pack inhabited, Sevin hit the sidewalk at a dead run, his legs pumping out the blocks at the fastest clip he had never thought possible. Hearing the harsh pants and skittering nails on the concrete too close behind him, he had tapped into a boost of adrenaline that hit his veins like a shot of nitrous in a street racer that pulled him ahead of his pursuers. As weak as he was from lack of food and proper care, it was a wonder he had pulled it off, giving him a smidge more distance in an attempt to lose them in the maze of city streets. He’d made a critical error in the form of a wrong turn, landing him in a dead-end alley with no place to go.
Except, his wrong turn had turned out right. He was now warm, safe, and enveloped in the strong arms of a demon who was walking along at a fast clip, the male’s heavy gait a gentle jostling equal to that of a mother bouncing her baby to sleep. Coupled with the heat radiating off the broad chest he was held against, he was soon hooked with the lure of sleep.
The scent of roast beef lit up his nose, a bomb of sensory overload jarring him awake. Opening his eyes, he found himself being held like an infant in the arms of the one named Lucian. Covered in a blanket, he was warm and comfy.
And really freaking hungry!
As Vex held up a savory slice of roast beef he’d peeled from a deli sandwich, Sevin lunged toward the bit of food offered.
“Poor little guy is starving,” Lucian uttered sadly. “He can have my ham and cheese, too, if he wants it.”
“Slow down, Sevin, or you’ll get a stomach ache,” Vex gently scolded, handing him another bite. “You can eat as much as you want. We won’t ever take your food away.”
Tears welled and spilled down his face—he couldn’t believe his fortune. He had gone from facing his own demise to scoring a new home with two males who already seemed to care about him in the bat of an eye. Not only that, they would also be his protectors, watching after him as if he were from their own flesh and blood. He could see it in the clear, blue depths of the angel’s eyes and the set of the demon’s sharp jaw—he had found a family to call his own.
Vex swept the tears from his hollow cheeks, cooing, “Don’t cry puppy, you’re gonna be okay now.”
“Yeah, we’re your new dads,” Lucian chimed in. “We’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you.”
“Thanks, Luswin,” he said, embarrassed he had mispronounced the male’s name.
“Loo. Shh. An.” The angel broke it down for him.
“Loo. Shh. Sween,” he stuttered out, growing irritated with himself he couldn’t get it right.
“Why don’t you just call me Lu,” Lucian grinned.
Nodding, he returned the kind smile. Looking to the other male, he said, “Thanks, Wex,” and frowned.
The corner of the brutish male’s lips twitched upwards in an awkward, one-sided grin, his interpretation of a smile. The demon didn’t appear to be in the habit of performing that particular facial expression.
Giving his silvery hair a tousle, Vex said, “Wex is fine, puppy. Wex will be just fine.”
Chapter 1
As Sevin tore out around the corner of the building, memories from his past came barreling down on him nearly as fast as the purebreds on his tail. Just twenty-two years ago, he’d been doing this very same thing.
Now, he was running for his fucking life with a now full-grown Micah in the lead, gaining on him with every step.
Now, he had five chasing after him instead of three. As time had passed and new shifters had been born into his former pack, so added to his list of enemies. The youngest of the purebreds he had never formally met, only had seen them from a pack perspective as Micah led the group of degenerates around with an imaginary leash to do his bidding.
Why had he left his apartment?
Lucian, or Lu, as he had always called him ever since he was a pup, had just walked him home. He had been safe inside and could be still had he stayed put. He should be lounged out on his sofa in front of the television, watching some mindless show with a bowl of popcorn, still warm from the microwave.
But, noooooo.
He’d gotten a wild hair up his ass to go out prowling the city streets. The urge to roam wouldn’t leave him alone. Already keyed up and aggravated after the fuckers chasing him had shown their ugly mugs at the diner where he had shared a late dinner with his dads and Alea—Mythical Ink’s receptionist slash Vex’s new love interest—he’d been itching to put an end to the constant bullying, to stand his ground once again, and end the escalating drama dogging his every step.
Micah and his curs had been stalking him for years, never doing much more than a cat-and-mouse routine. Being outnumbered five to one, he had always made a run for it, successfully losing them in the maze that was the city. That was until a few nights ago when he’d decided to stand up to Micah, instead of bolting.
That had been the start of the physical aggression since his younger years when he’d lived with the pack. Tracking and chasing had been the extent of their harassment until he’d turned it up a notch. He’d often wondered if his sire had put an end to his death warrant now he was no longer his problem.
The stand-off had resulted in a black eye and some bruised ribs for Sevin. Micah had not walked away completely unscathed. The purebred had underestimated the strength of the half-breed and had taken more than a few solid hits to the head and abdomen before nosy pedestrians had come along and interfered.
Surprisingly, Micah had kept the fight fair, ordering his cohorts to stand down, keeping it one-on-one. Now that the purebred had sampled what his enemy was made of, he most likely wouldn’t be so honorable the next go around. He had numbers on his side and would use whatever he had in his arsenal before risking a loss.
The fight had proved to be more than trading of fists between two old enemies, it had been the catalyst to his sire’s demise.
Word had traveled fast after Micah had challenged and taken the title of pack leader from Sevin’s sire just a day after the fight he had nearly lost to Sevin. Upon the death of that male, for the first time in his life, Sevin felt like his sire had a hand in keeping him safe even if it was from a distance.
Now that Micah was the leader, there was no one to stand in the way of his will. With the fresh taste of blood on his lips and the knowledge an opponent existed with the likelihood of beating him, Micah had turned his full attention on Sevin, aggressing on him more openly whenever the pack would catch up to him in the city, putting Sevin’s evasive skills to the test to keep them ignorant of his apartment’s location.
By taking a stand, that fight had proved he was no longer a trifle to practice the tracking skills of the group, but a worthy opponent of inferior breeding who needed to be taken out.
Guilt over being the reason for his sire’s death mixed with confusion over the male’s actions had created a bitter concoction that couldn’t be sorted. Why the order from his sire to rid him of the pack all those years ago followed by an order to let him live? Had his sire been afraid of the Otherworldlies who had taken him in? Or had it been a case of conscience that had changed the male’s mind? He would never know now that the answers had died along with his sire.
Faced with Micah’s single-minded determination to rid Sevin of this earth, he’d had to remain diligent while away from the safety of his dads.
It was ridiculous the amount of time the twenty-seven-year-old alpha to a wolf-shifter pack spent focusing on a childhood enemy who had no intention of challenging him for his place at the head of the pack. The male was still playing the juvenile role of a high school bully instead of seeing to the needs of the wolf-shifters in his charge. Instead of keeping old prejudices alive, Micah should have been making certain his new pack had what they needed to survive. If it was still anything like what Sevin remembered, those wolves were living day to day.
Sadly, that hovel Sevin had started life out in remained the residence of his former pack. The shitty apartment should
have been on the city’s list to condemn a long time ago, but somehow it remained standing. After all these years, the wolf-shifters Sevin was partly related to hadn’t bothered to upgrade their living conditions, but they weren’t given many options either.
Staying off of the radar of humans was paramount to their very existence which meant no shifters were born in hospitals. Giving birth to what appeared to be a human baby that could shift without warning into a puppy would cause alarm among the Homo sapiens. With no birth certificate, no Social Security card would be issued. For all intents and purposes, shifters were considered illegal aliens in the very country of their births.
Cash only jobs had been growing more scare as time went on. At least that had been the excuse Sevin had overheard from the elders in his former pack. Now, he wondered how much of their poverty was self-inflicted due to laziness.
Although they weren’t above stealing, if any wolves made a name for themselves to the local police, they were all as good as caught, and moving out of the city to avoid the law wasn’t an option. Territories had been established long ago, so wolves made do with what they had inside the imaginary lines set by their elders.
Unlike the majority of non-humans roaming the planet, Sevin not only had a job, but a trade thanks to Vex and Lu’s savvy skills to blend in with society. The three of them had recently put their artistry skills to the test and opened a tattoo studio which only supplied Micah with more ammunition to hate his guts.
Sevin was no fool to think, even if he challenged Micah and won the alpha seat just to put an end to the drama, that anyone in the pack would accept him, being a half-breed, as their leader. It was preposterous.
A quick glance over his shoulder and Sevin took a hard left into the next alley. He had gained a couple of blocks by darting through the narrow spaces between buildings, but he needed to shift into wolf form if he was going to lose them completely.
