Fire & Gasoline: A Shifter Romance (Audax Pack Book 1)
Page 1
Fire & Gasoline
Audax Pack Series
Colette Rhodes
Copyright © 2020 Graimarie Limited
All rights reserved.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
ISBN: 978-0-473-53351-9
Cover design by: Graimarie Limited
To my good friend, Lucy. Wren would have been a lot less cool without you.
"We accept the love we think we deserve."
- Stephen Chbosky
Chapter 1
Wren
Alpha Mercer was a fucking asshole.
Seriously.
He was the most obnoxious, sorry excuse for a wolf on the planet.
I didn’t know many people to compare him to, but I was pretty confident he was the fucking worst.
I listened to the sounds of my pack running together outside from my spot on the couch and gritted my teeth so hard I may have cracked them.
I’d never run with my pack. From the first time I’d shifted aged twelve, I’d been on house arrest. Not because I’d done anything wrong — I’d just committed the grievous sin of being a badass, dominant wolf.
Irritated with all the howling and general happiness going on outside, I stomped my way into the kitchen to make myself some enchiladas.
When in doubt, eat.
When in a foul mood, eat Mexican food. The cheesier, the better.
My parents were out there, running with the pack like they didn’t have a care in the world. They fit right in with the elitist assholes of the Azymus Pack. They sat comfortably in the middle of the food chain, submissive enough to not be seen as a threat. They never rocked the boat, never challenged the Alpha, and definitely never stood up for their only kid.
How they’d produced an alpha she-wolf as dominant as me was a mystery only the Fates knew the answer to. If I didn’t have my Indian father’s coloring, my mother’s face, and half of their scents, I’d think someone had swapped me at birth.
It couldn’t hurt to hope.
My wolf rose to the surface, but I fought the shift, pushing her back down. Maybe later tonight, when the pack had gone to sleep, I’d let her out. In the cabin, of course. If I left the cabin in wolf form, I’d have all eight centurions on me before I even got off the porch.
Soon, I reminded my wolf. Soon we’d be free of the Azymus Pack. We’d be able to roam free, uninhibited by cowardly wolves who didn’t know how to handle us.
I represented a threat to the Alpha and his family. My wolf was a Luna at heart — an alpha female, meant to lead alongside an Alpha. My mother had let slip once that they were worried I would take a mate from outside the pack and bring him in to challenge for the Alpha position.
I’d have been a good Luna, once upon a time. Much better than our current Luna. When I was a kid, pack members would always tell my parents how caring I was, how sweet I was.
Six years on and my own family had sucked the sweetness right out of me. There was only bitterness left. And I’d rather chew off my paw than be the Luna of this ignorant bunch, so they really had nothing to worry about.
I diced the onions a little more forcefully than I needed to, trying to ignore the noise outside that was calling to my lonely wolf. It was unnatural for wolves to be alone. We were pack animals. I needed the interaction. The physical touch. But I couldn’t risk going out there. My wolf was tough as hell, but against an entire pack, they’d rip me to shreds.
The Alpha had permitted me to stay on pack territory until I was eighteen, but I wasn’t allowed to take part in pack events and was supposed to stay out of sight as much as possible. I lived in my parents’ cabin, right on the border of the territory, while they mostly stayed at the main pack house to avoid me and all the awkwardness that my existence caused them.
Every week, my mother would leave a crate of groceries on the porch, occasionally adding in some clothes or the occasional treat, like makeup or bath salts. It was probably her version of an apology. Or maybe it was how she would assuage her guilt.
I got the chicken breasts simmering in a broth on the stove and tidied the kitchen. Cooking had been my lifeline throughout my isolation. The sympathetic rebel next door, Marco, would come visit the cabin from time-to-time, but for the most part, my best friends were the chefs I watched religiously on TV. My TV chef friends never let me down. They didn’t have fuckwit alphas bossing them around.
The house filled up with the smell of simmering garlic, onion, and chicken, and my mood lifted.
My eighteenth birthday had come and gone a week ago, and I knew my grace period was ending. Alpha Mercer would show up any day now with my parents in tow to officially excommunicate me. I wasn’t hanging around hoping to change their minds, I just needed to see my parents one last time.
Not for an emotional goodbye.
I was going to guilt-trip the fuck out of them, so they gave me some money to get me set up. It was really the least they could do.
They usually felt bad for me after a pack run and would show their faces at the house. Tomorrow was the day I would take what I could get and get the hell out of here.
A quiet knock on the door pulled me out of my enraged thoughts. Shit. He was getting bolder.
I darted to the door and pulled it open a little, grabbing Marco’s arm and yanking him inside before he drew any attention.
Marco was my only friend. Friend with benefits, I guess, though it was more about quenching touch cravings for both of us. We were both black sheep in a pack of wolves — me because of my dominance, Marco because his wolf had yet to emerge.
I pulled him into a hug, nuzzling my head against his. We were a similar height and build, both on the lean side. His family was my closest neighbor, and we’d always played together as kids.
“I figured they’d come for you tomorrow,” Marco murmured, running his hand up and down my spine. “I had to say goodbye.”
“Leave with me,” I urged Marco for the millionth time. “Sorry, sorry, that wasn’t an order,” I added hastily when he made a pained noise, his submissive nature urging him to please me.
“Wren,” he sighed. “It’s not that bad for me here.”
“It’s not that good,” I retorted, pulling away and gently gripping his elbows.
“I wouldn’t survive without a pack. No other pack will want a dormant, Wren. You know that.”
“We’ll start our own pack.”
“Packs need an Alpha. You can’t do it all, Wren. Your wolf is a Luna, she’d be miserable with Alpha duties.”
“Don’t ask me to leave you here, Marco.” I gave him a pleading look.
“I’ll be fine. You need to go, Wren. This,” he said, gesturing around the room, “is no life for anyone, particularly not a dominant Luna wolf.”
The oven dinged, and I pulled out the enchiladas, putting some in a separate dish for Marco to take home.
“I’ll miss your cooking,” he said ruefully, giving me a small smile.
“Just my cooking?” I rolled my eyes playfully.
“And the rest of you,” he added. I pulled him back into a tight hug, wrapping my arms around his neck and swaying side to side with my chin resting on his shoulder. There would be no impassioned kisses or romantic declarations. Our sexual relationship had been purely a matter of convenience, but we’d been f
riends to each other when friends had been hard to come by.
I’d miss him like crazy.
“Take care of yourself, okay?” I sniffed, stepping out of his embrace but gripping his shoulders tightly. “That is an order.”
“I will.” He nodded, his eyes a little glassy. I grabbed the dish off the counter and pushed it into his hands, watching him walk out the front door, swallowing past the tightness in my throat. I took a steadying breath and shook off the grief as best I could. I couldn’t afford to feel sad about leaving the pack that had treated me like I was worthless.
If I was heading out into the world alone, I had to have my wits about me.
Even after washing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen, the house smelled so potently of garlic, no one would ever guess Marco had been here.
I had a quick shower before curling up uncomfortably in my childhood bed, doing my best to ignore the howls and thundering paws of running wolves outside my window.
✽✽✽
His full lips drifted down the side of my exposed throat as his hands ghosted over my naked hips. I buried my fingers in his dark blonde hair, just long enough to get a good grip on, and moved to straddle his thigh, shamelessly grinding down on it. He growled in warning. Not yet. I didn’t need to hear him speak to know what he meant. He liked to be in control. His hand slid up my back as he slowly, oh so slowly, wound my long hair around his fist—
WHAM.
I woke with a start, jackknifing into a sitting position, clutching the sheet to my chest. Wings flapped frantically outside as the bird regained its bearings and flew away from the window.
“Little cockblocker,” I muttered, glaring as it flew off into the distance. I got out of bed, throwing the covers back into place with a little more force than necessary. My sexy dreams of my dominant blonde Adonis were the best part of my day.
It was a hidden fantasy, a guy who was dominant enough to earn my submission, my wolf’s submission. The beast of a blonde in my dreams owned me, moved my body like a puppet master, and acted like my pleasure was his personal goal.
He was basically the total opposite of Marco in the sack, and very much a product of the romance movies I spent far too much time watching.
I woke up early, dressing in black yoga pants, ankle socks, a long dark green t-shirt and a chunky gray cardigan that fell to mid-thigh. I pulled my hair into a messy bun on top of my head and combed down my blunt bangs. May as well be comfortable if I was heading on the road today. I didn’t own many clothes — it’s not like I ever went anywhere — so my meagre belongings easily fit into the threadbare duffel bag I found in the bottom of my parents’ wardrobe.
Even though my parents absolutely did not deserve it, I filled the base of the stovetop coffee pot with water and added coffee grinds to the basket, packing it in carefully and smoothing the top. After I screwed the top of the pot on and set it on the stove, I made bacon and egg cups in a muffin pan, and grilled slices of homemade ciabatta in the oven.
I had a lot of time on my hands.
Cooking for people was one of the few things in my life that brought me joy, and I rarely had the opportunity to do it. So even though my parents were spineless excuses for wolves, I was still making them breakfast. Fuck it, it made me happy.
They arrived around ten in the morning, late as always after a long night running with the pack, living their best lives. Even better, they had Alpha Asshole in tow, whose smug face stood in contrast to my parents' guilty expressions. It had been years since I’d seen him. His hair was graying around his temples and the frown lines on his forehead had deepened, but he was still every inch the dominant Alpha.
I kept my face impassive and gestured to everyone to sit at the table while I set the food and coffee in the middle. Alpha Mercer looked at me like he expected me to serve him, but he was fucking dreaming if he thought I’d do that. It’s not like I was against serving others. I just didn’t respect him enough to show him that honor.
“Wren.” Alpha Mercer’s voice was heavy with dominance, like it always was when he talked to me.
“Alpha.” I met his gaze easily, enjoying his discomfort. The brief twitches of his eye gave me unimaginable joy. He was definitely fighting the urge to break eye contact.
“Wren,” my mother implored, softly resting her hand on my wrist, pulling my gaze to her pleading face. Don’t be difficult. Don’t make life harder for us.
Fates forbid.
My mother and I looked eerily similar, except I had my father’s darker coloring. Mom and I both had golden eyes, thick eyelashes, a slightly upturned nose, high cheekbones, and lips that were probably too big for our faces. When I was a kid, my father had always proclaimed how fortunate he was to have two such beautiful girls in his life. It had been a long time since he said anything like that.
I had my father’s straight black hair — mine hung to my waist except for the blunt bangs I cut myself — and brown skin a few shades lighter than his. He’d come to the Azymus Pack from Kerala in India as part of a mating exchange program between “paradigm” packs twenty years ago.
I dropped into my seat, keeping my body language relaxed though my muscles were coiled tight. I was seated at a table with the people who had given me life and the Alpha who had taken an oath to protect every member of his pack, and I didn’t trust a single one of them.
“Unfortunately, the time has come for you to leave Azymus Pack. For many years I have struggled, knowing that there isn’t a place here for you. It has been very troubling for me,” he sighed, looking like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.
I couldn’t even smell the lie. He clearly believed his own bullshit.
“Thankfully, I have found a solution that will benefit all of us. There is a pack in Ohio. Their Alpha’s son is only sixteen, but he will need a mate, eventually. A Luna.”
The word hung in the air. My parents sat so still, I was pretty sure they’d stopped breathing.
The offer to join another pack was tempting. I wouldn’t have to worry about my wolf going feral if I was anchored to a pack. Being a Luna, though… I didn’t have it in me anymore. The three wolves in front of me had ensured that.
“They follow the paradigm, like us,” Alpha Mercer continued, enjoying the attention he was getting. “They are diligent wolves, not slaves to their baser desires. You should be grateful that I’ve found such a match for you.”
I hadn’t been allowed to attend pack gatherings since I was a child, but his spiel about “baser desires” apparently hadn’t changed in six years. Alpha Mercer looked at me expectantly, presumably waiting for me to lick his boots or something.
“How generous,” I said wryly. “I’ll take my chances on my own, thanks.”
“Wren,” my father hissed, glaring at me from across the table. “No other paradigm packs want you. Think about what you’re giving up.”
I stared at him blankly because I knew it would unnerve him. Not that he could actually meet my eye, anyway. My parents always made a big deal about the following paradigm shit, but since I’d been cooped up like a dirty little secret for the past few years, I wasn’t super invested in following pack rules.
Besides, I’d seen a documentary on human cults once, and there were some eerily distinctive similarities to how the wolves around here acted.
“I’ll be fine. I have plans.”
“What plans?” my mother whispered nervously.
“Plans.” If they wanted me to confide in them, they shouldn’t have kicked me out.
“Wren.” There was so much anguish in my mother’s voice, I could almost believe it was me she was upset for, not the mistake she thought I was making.
“That is disappointing, Wren. The pack in Ohio were very excited when I told them about you, it would be a shame if they pursued you when you’re out there on your own, without a pack to protect your interests,” Alpha Mercer sighed heavily, like he wasn’t about to immediately run off and tell the Ohio pack that I wasn’t under his prote
ction any longer.
“I’ll leave you to say your goodbyes. You have an hour to leave the territory.” He didn’t give me a chance to reply even if I wanted to before giving me his back. So fucking disrespectful.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” My father was aggressively rubbing his temples, hunched over the table.
“Let’s skip the lecture, hm? I’ve only got an hour,” I replied lightly. “I just need some money for the bus ride north, since I’ve been essentially imprisoned here for six years and haven’t been able to earn any for myself.” I was always hyper-aware of keeping the alpha command out of my voice when I spoke to my parents, so I didn’t force them to do anything against their will.
“How far north?” my mother asked. She looked alarmed, sitting stiff as a board in the seat next to me.
I shrugged because I didn’t have an answer for her. My wolf was pushing for north, so north is where we’d go. Maybe she just wanted a colder climate.
My mother hesitated for a moment, chewing nervously on her bottom lip like she wanted to say more, but her eyes lowered to her lap and I knew I’d lost her.
“Here.” My father pushed an envelope across the table at me. “$500. It’s all we can spare. Contrary to what you may think, we don’t wish for you to suffer, Wren. We have never blamed you for your dominant nature.”
“Good of you,” I remarked drily, picking up the envelope and moving back from the table. “I’m already packed. I imagine you’re looking forward to having unrestricted use of your cabin again, so I’ll be on my way.”
“Our contact details are in there,” my mother added hastily, nodding at the envelope. “Let us know where you end up.” I snorted. Don’t overdo it on the platitudes, Mother.
We didn’t need to say goodbye or talk about our regrets. Every time they’d avoided me over the past six years had been a goodbye. Every shamefaced look had shown their regret. It changed nothing.