Midnight Wish: A Werewolf Shifter Romance (The Protectors Quick Bites Book 1)

by Keira Blackwood

  I threw open the barn door and dashed past the hay bales and ATVs to the wall. There was an old lever action rifle and a pump action shotgun hanging from pairs of bike hooks, and my dad’s Colt Army replica revolver in its holster on the table next to the bandolier he’d purchased online.

  I rolled my eyes just as I had when it had arrived in the mail. He just loved to play cowboy. He’d taught me how to shoot each of his guns, but I had no idea which one I should use to fight off wolves in the forest.

  Maybe this whole thing was a little insane. When we had to deal with a stray mountain lion, the two of us went together. Never alone. Facing whatever was out there alone was what got my dad torn up.

  The smart move was to run into the house and keep the doors locked. Not that wolves unlocked doors, but well, I probably should have gone in. To bed.

  Nope, not tonight.

  I looked over the guns again. Fuck it, I’d take them all. I strapped the rifle to my back with my dad’s leather scabbard and attached the bandolier to the other shoulder. I secured the revolver around my waist and grabbed the shotgun last. I must have looked ridiculous, but I didn’t waste time thinking about it, and instead grabbed all the ammo I could shove into my pockets and dashed back out of the barn. I considered taking an ATV to get to the forest faster, but with all this loaded hardware in the dark, it didn’t seem like a good idea.

  Like I was thinking with logic now—ha. Still, I went on foot.

  The weight of the weapons made running difficult, but I just pushed harder. The sounds of growling and barking were getting closer as I ran across the field and through the treeline.

  As the trees overhead dampened the moonlight, I struggled to see. I tripped on branches and thorns tore at my skin and clothes, but I kept running. Somehow this felt important, unreasonably so. Maybe it was vengeance for my dad, maybe delusions of an overtired brain, but somehow it felt like I was on the brink of losing something I desperately needed.

  The rustling leaves and vicious growls were coming from the pond. I slowed my pace, knowing the ground sloped somewhere up ahead.

  A sickening yelp resounded through the trees, and after, there was only silence.

  What the fuck was going on out here? Mountain lion versus wolf? If that was the case, it seemed the wolf had lost.

  I ran harder.

  The air grew colder the closer I came to the water, so cold I could see my breath ahead of me.

  The forest gave way to the stream. I followed the bank to a familiar clearing, to the cliff and the waterfall. And to the wolf.

  Gray fur was matted down, damp and stained with what I could only guess was blood. His form was still as he lay by the edge of the pond. The ground beneath him was a dark halo, the wolf’s life seeping away into the dirt below. From this distance I couldn’t see the rise and fall or his chest, or the lack thereof. Maybe he was still breathing. Maybe not.

  A flicker of movement caught my eye.

  There was someone else here—a woman in a dark red dress gliding through the shadows, closing in on the animal. Who the hell was she and what was she doing on ranch property? In a dress...in the middle of the night? That wasn’t exactly poaching attire. She didn’t seem to have a weapon, either.

  Had the wolf attacked her, like one of his kind had my father? She looked uninjured, and again, I found myself wondering—what was with the dress?

  No one else seemed to be here, so was it possible she had done this to the wolf?

  The woman moved in and hovered above the wolf. She didn’t seem afraid, or distressed, at least from what I could tell in the dark. Her face was a mask.

  She raised her hand above her head. It was hard to tell in the dark, but it looked like she was holding several tiny knives. The mask was gone, and anger contorted her features.

  Her intent was clear—she was going to kill the wolf. Even if I’d considered doing the same when I’d set out, even if he had attacked her, he was helpless now.

  I couldn’t let her do it. With a step forward, I waved my hand out.

  “Hey!” I didn’t point the shotgun directly at her, but held it out a bit, so she’d know I meant business. “This is private property.”

  The woman tilted her head away from the wolf, up toward me. And I saw her, clear as night.

  Her eyes were sunken and black as pitch. The knives she held—they weren’t knives at all, but elongated claws. I should have been scared, I should have run. She wasn’t human. She was something else.

  With a snarl, the thing bared her needle-like teeth at me, and it was a kick in the gut. She was a fucking monster.

  Fight or flight, and for some damn reason, my feet weren’t moving.

  “Okay, bitch, let’s do this.” I raised the stock of the shotgun to my shoulder and squeezed the trigger. The gun kicked and nearly made me deaf, but I held my ground and kept my eyes on my target.

  Ringing lingered in my ears, and I refused to blink.

  My shot was dead on, but there was no sign that I’d hit her save the trails of black mist that seeped from her chest and evaporated into nothingness.

  Shit. Shit shit shit shit.

  The creature opened her mouth and a gaping pit of fangs overtook her face.

  I dropped the shotgun and drew the revolver at my hip. Maybe a different kind of round would work better. Maybe...maybe I should have curled up in Grandma’s quilt and I wouldn’t have ended up monster food.

  “Don’t you come any closer.” My voice wavered, my lack of confidence clear.

  But she didn’t move. Maybe the shot had hurt after all.

  Emboldened by stupidity or whatever the hell was driving me, I took a step forward. With both hands on the revolver, my aim set on the monster’s chest, I took one more step.

  Her big-ass mouth opened wider, and I tried my damnedest to hold it together. Don’t pee your pants. Don’t pee your damn pants.

  A shrill shriek echoed through the forest, vibrating my chest. It was the same sound I’d heard outside the barn before I’d run here. It was agony, it was suffering, it was not of this world.

  Piercing pain stabbed through my skull, and I flinched, willing my knees not to buckle.

  And then there was silence, and with it, the monster vanished into thin air.

  Was this some kind of trick?

  Darting my gaze back and forth, I searched for any sign of her. There was nothing, nothing but a bit of black ash where the monster had stood just moments ago.

  I let go of the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Something was different. It was the air. It was lighter and warmer than it had been, back to what a cool summer night was meant to be.

  Crickets chirped, and it was as if none of it had even happened.

  A whimper—the wolf. The beast was still covered in blood, so that was real. It was all real, wasn’t it? No time to debate my sanity, I holstered the revolver and ran over to the injured animal. He needed my help.

  I’d patched up a few birds before, and Riblet, but I had no idea what to do for the wolf. His injuries were severe. If I called animal services, they’d just put him down. I couldn’t wrap the wounds without lifting him, and even if I could do that without getting bit, I didn’t have any bandages with me.

  His eyes were shut, and his chest rose and fell slowly. His gray fur shown almost white in the moonlight, and he looked at peace. Given what had happened to him, finding peace was a gift.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I just don’t know what to do for you.”

  Wolves really were majestic creatures—so much strength, intelligence, and loyalty to family. They weren’t that different from us.

  I sat down beside him, unafraid. Maybe it was that stupid, middle-of-the-night brain ruling me. But I felt sure he wouldn’t hurt me.

  Tears streamed down my cheeks in exhaustion, in loss, and I reached out for a connection. His fur was soft on my fingertips as I touched the wolf behind his ear.

  He seemed to like that, his body relaxing a little. Good. A
t least I could stay with him and offer some comfort.

  One last search, I peered out into the dark woods for signs of the monster. Nothing. It was really over.

  Something changed as I pet the wolf, something about the way he felt. His fur seemed to be getting shorter. I glanced down in confusion.

  His fur was getting shorter, receding into his body like reverse growing in fast forward.

  What the hell?

  I scrambled away, never taking my eyes from the wolf.

  His snout grew shorter, while his legs grew long and began sprouting fingers and toes.

  What the fuck? What. The. Fuck?

  Night of the impossible—maybe I was wrapped up in Grandma’s quilt, sleeping away on the couch. It was the only possibility that made sense.

  I jumped up from my place on the ground and watched as the dying gray wolf transformed into a dying Chase Lennox.

  Chapter Seven

  Chase

  Get up. Get up, Chase, or you’re going to die.

  Trapped inside my own body, I knew I had to move, I had to fight.

  My...arms? Yes, I had arms. Somehow, I had shifted back to human form. My arms and legs refused to move. I could hear that thing moving toward me, footsteps growing closer and closer.

  I screamed at my eyes to open, and slowly managed a squint. Everything was blurry, but bright.

  This wasn’t the woods.

  The foul creature must have dragged me back to her lair to devour me at her leisure. I wouldn’t let that happen. I was still breathing, so I had a chance.

  My vision began to adjust. I saw a wooden floor and a pair of cowboy boots walking toward me. Boots? I could have sworn she had hooves.

  I took in the scents of the place. Straw, cattle, and then it hit me—sweet and gentle pear. My eyes shot open and I struggled to lift my head to see. Harper—it was her. She was pacing back and forth across the floor of what appeared to be a barn, shotgun in hand. I tried to move toward her, but I was still locked in place. I looked down and saw that my wrists and ankles were bound with baling twine. Also, it appeared that I had no clothes.

  What the hell had happened?

  My movement attracted Harper’s attention. Her eyes flicked over to me.

  “You’re awake.”

  “Yeah.” My voice came out hoarse. My muscles were weak, and lacerations were wrapped across my core. That creature must have really done a number on me. I should have been healed by now—benefit of being a shifter.

  How long had it been? I couldn’t quite remember all of the details. I was by the pond, and then there was a woman who wasn’t a woman. Those teeth—I shivered.

  “Why am I tied up?” I looked up at Harper. Her brows were knitted with concern as she paced back and forth. She chewed on her lip and didn’t acknowledge my words.

  “So, two questions.” Harper stopped pacing and set her steely blue gaze on me. “One, what? And two, the fuck?”

  “I’m just as confused as you are.” I tested my bindings, slowly twisting my wrists.

  “No,” she replied. “No, I don’t think so, wolfman.” She was nervous, the scent was all over her. And she knew. She’d seen me, so she knew, at least part of the truth. I didn’t want to lie to her, not to the woman I knew was meant to be my mate. So I didn’t.

  “We prefer wolf shifter.”

  She stopped and looked at me.

  “We? How many monsters are there?”

  “Me and my family. And we aren’t monsters.”

  She looked embarrassed for a moment, her eyes cast down in thought.

  “I’m sorry.” She straightened her shoulders, and her scent filled with frustration, distrust. “But what are you?”

  “We’re wolf shifters, we can turn into wolves. We can sense things others can’t. We don’t want any trouble, so my family mostly keeps to ourselves. Otherwise we’re not that different from anyone else.”

  Her big blue eyes searched my face, and I hoped telling her the truth would be enough for her to trust me. But I didn’t know if it would be. It was a lot to accept.

  “So you didn’t attack my father?”

  “No.” I answered without hesitation.

  “Sorry, I had to ask.” Her nervousness seemed to be subsiding, and her grip loosened on the shotgun she held her hand.

  “It was another creature, one I’ve never seen before. It looked like a woman, but—”

  “I saw it too.”

  “You did? Are you okay?” I tried to sit up, but the bindings held me in place.

  “Okay enough for someone whose had their entire belief system shattered in the last couple hours.”

  “You should stay out of the woods. That thing is dangerous.” As soon as I said the words I realized how I sounded—like a patronizing asshole, and I immediately regretted it. But I did want her to stay away from the woods. I wanted her safe.

  “I can handle myself.” She stared hard at me. Her blue eyes searched my face for...something. Then she sighed and sat down, resting her back against a wooden beam. The shotgun rest beside her on the floor.

  “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise,” I said. It was true. If she weren’t capable, both of us would probably be dead right now. I owed her my life. I didn’t have to remember all of what had happened to know that. I remembered the teeth, the claws. The monster was going to tear me apart, just as it had done to Mr. Wainwright. No question it was the same creature responsible for both attacks. With the scent, the cold...it had to be.

  Harper’s eyes fluttered shut as she leaned her head back against the support beam. Her shoulders sank in exhaustion. She’d found out just that morning that her father was in the hospital, then she’d had work on the ranch, now this. She probably hadn’t slept a wink since the night before.

  But being worn ragged didn’t dull her beauty; if anything it was a testament to her character. She was as persistent as she was radiant, a light in the darkness. She was soft curves and hard-earned muscle. And I couldn’t tear my eyes from her.

  The scent of distrust dissipated—Harper was finally beginning to trust me. This was my second chance at making a good impression.

  “I’m on your side,” I said. “Ask me anything you want.”

  She opened her eyes and looked at her hands as if to consider my offer.

  “Was it you that’s been scaring our cattle?” She looked down at me.

  “Yes,” I admitted. “But it wasn’t my intention. I just like to run.”

  “If your whole family’s a pack of wolves, why are we just now seeing them? We’ve all been living on the same mountain for years.”

  “It’s probably just me you’ve been seeing. The alpha is pretty strict about where we’re allowed to shift. But sometimes I need space. I like to go where I know none of them will be.”

  “The alpha? Is that your family’s boss? Great-grandaddy wolf or something?”

  “The leader of our pack, yes. But worse, he’s my father.” It was hard opening up, and also easy. I’d never discussed our ways with someone before. But I wanted to tell Harper everything, and I needed her to accept me as I was. For exactly what and who I was.

  “Oh, now I’m getting a clearer picture.” She seemed a little amused.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “I’ve seen your dad in town from time to time. Seems like he might be the controlling type—no offense.”

  “None taken.”

  “So I have him pegged?” Her smile widened.

  “Pretty much. He wants me to join a group—it’s basically a shifter military. It would mean leaving everything I know behind.”

  Harper’s eyes widened. “That sounds serious.”

  “It is. And I love my pack, and I’d do anything for them. It’s just…”

  “It should be your choice.”

  “Yeah.” She really did understand. We were both silent for a moment, then Harper shot up and rose to her feet.

  “Your wounds.” Her eyes lingered on my chest, and her brow dropped with concern.
“How could I have...we need to take care of those right away.”

  Chapter Eight

  Harper

  With a turn of the knob, hot water poured into the bucket resting in the center of the hand-washing sink. On impact, the water frothed into white bubbles as it mixed with soap.

  My attention wandered back to the man lying on the barn floor—the man I had bound. The naked man.

  His arms were flexed above his head, thick, muscular arms, tied together at the wrist. He looked at ease there on the floor, his chest expanded, showing off how wide his shoulders were, how chiseled his abs were. I’d thought he was frat-boy pretty, but there was a whole hell of a lot more going on here than that. He was handsome in an all-American way, but he was built for Baywatch, for jogging down a strip of beach in slow motion next to The Rock, flexing pecs and rippling abs—lickable abs.

  If Chase had pants on, I’d probably be staring at that sexy v of man muscle at the top of his hips, but as it was, his happy trail led right down to all the happy.

  I’d been with guys, sure, but I’d never been with anyone half as scorching hot as Chase, or nearly so big.

  Desire coiled through me as I imagined what it would be like to touch him, to hold his cock in my hand, to stroke his length...to feel him deep inside of me.

  “Harper?” Chase looked over to me with disarming green eyes.

  Heat flooded my cheeks.

  “Is the water ready?”

  I blinked hard and found the bucket well past overflowing. The sink was nearly full as well.

  Fuck.

  “Mmmhmm.” I nodded and turned off the spigot. Water sloshed as I lifted the bucket, unblocking the drain. Nothing to see here.

  I gathered some rags and the first aid kit and carried it all back to Chase.

  “You don’t need to do all of that.” Amusement played on his lips.

  “Nonsense. I saw what that thing did to you.” I’d gotten a fairly good look while dragging his ass out of the woods, while tying him up, and while trying hard not to acknowledge anything but his wounds. Long lacerations ran over his shoulders and down his chest and sides. His back hadn’t fared much better. And he was crusted in dirt and dried blood. He needed first aid, which made my feelings all the more inappropriate.