A moment later, Amélie shifted. “I’m not sorry. I couldn’t take seeing you hurt like that anymore. I would have rather died in father’s attack than witnessed it again,” she cried.
Ava sniffed and dried her tears with the back of her hand. “Let’s go. There’s nothing here for us except bad memories. Shift back into your wolf, and we’ll leave. We’ll get new clothes once we get to where we’re going.”
Ava had asked him to wait inside when she dashed out the back door, but he’d be damned if he’d risk anything going wrong and not be close enough to help her. Two small wolves came scampering out of a hole barely big enough for them to get through. The same hole she’d contorted her body to disappear into minutes before.
When she didn’t immediately follow, he wanted to tear into the dirt and the ramshackle home that had been hers to get to her. There was no way he’d fit in that hole, but he could rip the house right off its foundation if need be. A moment later, a soft grunt sounded, then finally, she popped her head out. Shimmying back and forth, she squeezed out of the opening and gave him a shaky smile.
“She’s coming out. I asked her to stay in her wolf form. She’ll heal faster, and that way, she won’t have to deal with anyone,” Ava said as she got to her feet.
A moment later, a pained whimper and the scrape of paws sounded from beneath the house. The she-wolf poked her head out, trying to twist to fit through the opening, but gave up with a yelp.
Next to him, Ava covered her mouth with her hands, failing to muffle her small sob.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted two children, not yet in their teens and dressed in ratty clothes, come to stand a short distance away.
“Tell her to move back. As soon as I say go, she’ll have to come out. I won’t allow anything to happen to her,” Damon said.
Ava didn’t question him. She went to the hole and spoke softly to her sister. “Damon is going to help. You need to step back, but be ready to get out when he says it’s safe, okay?”
The second Ava gave him the nod to proceed, Damon took over. His claws pierced his fingertips in a painful yet satisfying burn. He couldn’t take the hurt from Ava’s past—or her siblings’, for that matter—but with this, he could help.
The brittle wood at the side of the house gave way. The old house creaked under his onslaught. “Is there anything you need from inside?” he asked. If he kept tearing at the unstable wall and foundation, he couldn’t guarantee that the thing would be standing by the time he stopped.
“No, nothing.”
With more force than necessary, he ripped through the wall, opening it down to the hole in the dirt, making a wide area for Amélie to crawl through without aggravating her injuries. If the shack fell and their father became homeless, all the better.
“Now,” he ordered.
A moment later, the she-wolf came scrambling out. If her unsteady gait and pronounced limp wasn’t enough to tell Damon how hurt she was, her brown and white coat covered in blood was. All shifters healed fast, but this small wolf had a couple of gashes that had yet to close. She stumbled to a stop next to Ava, then crashed down to the ground.
“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.” Ava sobbed as she took in the extent of the damage. “You’re safe now.”
“She’s right. No one will ever hurt you like this again, but we need to get you to our healers. Will you allow us to transport you?” he asked, adding his assurance to Ava’s.
The wolf looked at him, then with another whimper, her eyes rolled back, and her body went limp.
Damon had been with injured dragons often enough to know when a beast was near death. Ava’s sister wasn’t a dragon, but that didn’t change the fact that if she didn’t get help soon, she wouldn’t make it. Hell, she might still not. Crouching low, he picked up the unconscious wolf and carried her to where the children were waiting with Lady Anabelle. Ava joined him a moment later.
Just before the world melted away in a cloud of sparkle, a disjointed rumble sounded, and the house collapsed. He couldn’t bring himself to be upset over it. His only regret was that the man responsible for hurting his mate and her sister wasn’t in there when it fell.
15
Ava couldn’t stop the shaking. She was tough. Really tough. But between the mating, Amélie’s attack, traveling in the way of the Tragris, and being brought to a castle halfway around the world that put even the Citadel to shame, she was emotionally and physically drained.
Had they not arrived at her father’s home as quickly as they had, her sister would be dead instead of resting surrounded by Damon’s most trusted healers. They’d almost lost her a couple of times in the last few hours, but she’d finally stabilized. When Damon suggested they get some rest, she’d made them promise that if Amélie’s condition deteriorated again, they would come for her immediately.
The twins had been allowed to remain for a short while, but when Amélie didn’t rally right away, a kind, gray-haired woman had been brought in to settle them into bed. They’d gone without a fuss, but worry had etched their young features.
“All right, it’s been a long day. Let’s check on Hélène and Marc one last time before turning in,” Damon suggested as they made their way to their temporary quarters. Arrangements had been made for them to take residence in what would be Amélie’s room once she was well enough to leave the healing chambers. It was right next to the twin’s rooms, which, she was told, had adjoining doors.
She hadn’t known the man an entire day, yet here he was, taking care of not only her, but her family as if they were his own. She’d been desperate to check on them, but the fact that he’d thought of it without her urging warmed her to the depths of her soul.
“This door leads to Marc’s room,” he said as he turned the knob and stepped aside so she could enter before him.
“Is Amélie all right?” Her little brother’s anxious voice sounded the second he spotted her there.
“She will be, sweetheart,” she assured.
“You’re sure?” Hélène asked from across the room, where a door was open. “It was bad, Ava. Really bad.”
“I know, but she’s getting the help she needs. She’ll be as good as new in a couple of days. You’ll see. Both of you get some rest. Damon and I will be right next door.”
Marc looked at Damon from his perch on the high bed, his gaze deadly serious. He took a deep breath and puffed out his little chest. “I may be small, but I will eviscerate you if you hurt her,” he threatened.
Damon coughed, hiding his chuckle as he strode deeper into the room, before extending his hand to Marc. “Real men don’t hurt those they love, and they never raise a hand to a woman. I’m glad we’re in agreement. Between us, we’ll keep our family safe and sound.”
Marc gave an exaggerated nod, his overly long bangs flopping in front of his eyes, before taking the proffered hand. “We will. For tonight, Hélène will sleep here in the room with me. She’s scared. She can have the bed. I’ll take the floor,” he said decisively, sounding much too old for his years.
Hélène twirled her hands in front of her and nibbled on her lip. Ava was about to agree when Damon spoke up again. “That’s reasonable. Thank you for thinking of it.”
When Damon crossed the room toward Hélène, she flinched and scooted out of the way. If Damon noticed her reaction, he didn’t say. He walked past her and through the door to the adjoining room. After a moment of quiet shuffling, he reappeared with a mattress draped over his wide shoulders. He carefully stepped around Hélène once more and set the mattress next to the bed.
“This way, you won’t be on the cold stone,” he told Marc before coming back to Ava’s side.
“Good night,” she finally managed after several hard swallows past a huge lump in her throat. She gave each of them a tight hug. “Get some rest.”
The moment Damon closed the door to the suite right next to the twins, Ava threw herself into his arms. “Thank you for that,” she whispered into his neck, unable to utter the word
s any louder with the emotion clogging her throat.
Damon wrapped his arms around her. “He’ll grow into a fine young man. It’s good to instill and encourage these values at a young age.”
Unable to say more, she nodded, absorbing his strength and presence. In less than a day, this man—her mate—had become her everything. When she’d stood at the Citadel, gathering her courage to knock, she couldn’t have imagined her life would have changed so drastically.
For the first time since her mother had died, she pictured a future where she was happy. One where she could have children of her own and a mate who loved her as much as she loved him.
It was fast, and she wouldn’t kid herself into thinking there wouldn’t be adjustment issues to deal with, but they’d get through them and come out stronger in the end. Damon had already proven his worth many times over. He was a good man. Whatever obstacles came their way, they would surmount them. Together.
About the Author
Self-proclaimed tropical princess, Élianne Adams has no idea how she came to be born and live in snowy Ontario, Canada. She has always enjoyed curling up with a good book and a warm blanket. Even before she really knew what love was, she dreamed of writing her own happily ever after stories. It wasn’t until her very own hero encouraged her to follow her lifelong dream that she began putting the words begging to be told onto the page. When she isn’t reading or writing, Élianne can be found spending time with her husband, three children and pets.
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Feral Mate - Liv Brywood
Kayla
I’ve always been the good girl of the pack, but I’m done being good. Devin is everything I should avoid. He’s dark, dangerous, feral… and I’m falling in love with him.
Devin
She’s too good to mate a feral wolf like me. Young, innocent, and sweet, she’s the kind of woman I can’t wait to corrupt. I never wanted a mate, until I met her. Now I’ll have to fight her family to claim her.
Feral Mate
Copyright© 2018 Liv Brywood
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
1
Kayla
Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve dreamed about finding my perfect mate during a mating run. Now, I’m terrified that it’s too late. If I don’t land a mate before my twenty-fifth birthday, I’ll lose my ability to shift. I’ll be shunned by my family and forced out of the small town that’s been my home my entire life. I only have two more opportunities to meet a mate. Tonight’s full moon run will determine my fate. It usually takes two matings to form a true bond. If I don’t make a strong connection with another wolf by sunrise, then I’m doomed.
Stifling mid-summer heat infuses my apartment with the scent of leftover pizza. A fresh hairball, courtesy of my cat Matilda, doesn’t help my mood. My best friends are on their way over, but I can’t summon the energy to get off the couch. I really should, though, because they’re going to think I’ve given up on life. It’s tempting, to sit around and do nothing for hours on end, but ultimately, my inner wolf stirs and forces me to get my shit together. After all, if I don’t find a mate tonight, my wolf will stay trapped inside my body for the rest of my life. It’s a terrible fate, one I’m determined to avoid.
I glance at the Cheshire Cat cuckoo clock on the wall. I have exactly ten minutes to shower, get dressed, remove the hairball, and hide the remnants of my solo pity party from last night. If I move my ass, I’ll make it. If Ginger and Mel catch me wallowing in despair, I’ll never hear the end of it.
Ten minutes later, Matilda’s hairball’s gone. All trace of last night’s ice cream and pizza binge are safely hidden in the trash, and I literally smell like I’ve just walked off of a Hawaiian beach. Coconut Bliss is my new favorite body lotion. Ironic, considering I live in a small mountain town in Montana, but one day I’ll find myself lying on a tropical beach with my mate. It’s going to happen. Tonight’s the night I’ll find the perfect mate.
The doorbell rings. I nearly jump out of my skin. Okay, fine. Maybe I’m a little nervous about tonight. I mean, it’s not like my entire life is riding on it or anything.
“Hey, girl!” I open the door and find Ginger wrestling with her largest tote bag yet. It’s bright yellow with pink flamingos on the side. “What on Earth?”
“Can you help me with this thing? It weighs a ton.”
Ginger drops the bag. It thuds against my welcome mat, narrowly missing her perfectly manicured, sparkly lavender toenails.
“What did you bring?”
“Everything we need to make sure you find your mate tonight. Hang on, I have another bag in the car. I’ll be right back.”
As she takes off down the walkway, her pink maxi-dress swirls around her ankles. Wild red hair bounces halfway down her back. She’s a whirlwind of light, and sound, and color, just like a tornado, only far more fun. We’ve been best friends since we were six years old. She’s the sister I never had. Even my two older brothers treat her like one of the family.
“I brought your favorite,” Ginger hollers from behind the trunk of her ’65 Mustang Fastback. She slams the trunk and holds up two bottles of pink wine. “Moscato and Pink Zinny!”
“I don’t think drinking before the mating run is the best idea.” I frown. “I need to be totally alert so I can make sure I find the right mate.”
“Nope.” Ginger shuts me down. “You’re always thinking with your head. We need to turn that accountant brain off, and turn the rest of you on.”
“I am on.”
“If you used all of your wolf senses, you would have found a mate by now.” Ginger arches a brow as she walks past me to make herself at home in the kitchen.
“I thought Jack was the one,” I say with more misery in my tone than I’d anticipated.
“He was all wrong for you. Too uptight. Too expected. You need someone who’s totally different. A man who can fuck you up against a tree and make you scream for more.”
“Ugh, I don’t want to hear about your latest sexploits with Benjamin.”
“Do you know what he did to me the other night?”
“No.” I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in hearing another one of her crazy sex-in-public stories. In a way, I live vicariously through her adventures with her new mate.
“You know the playground at Centennial Park?” Ginger pulls two wine glasses out of the freezer.
“Yeah.”
“You know the little clubhouse thing at the top of the slide?”
“Where the kids play?”
“Yep.” A grin spreads across her face as she fills the glasses to the brim.
“You didn’t…”
“Yeah we did. He even tied me up this time.”
“What?” I take a gulp of wine to hide my shock.
“Don’t worry. It was like two a.m. No one was around. Although, we did almost get caught by the cops when we were leaving.” She smirks.
“Sounds adventurous.”
“It was. He denies it, but I’m pretty sure he’s been reading some BDSM romance or something, because he had all kinds of kinky toys with him. Even a butt plug.”
“Okay.” I hold up a hand to stop her. “This is where I cut you off. We’ve already talked about this.”
“No ass-talk. I know, but you haven’t lived until you’ve been stuffed up like a turkey and—” Mercifully, the doorbell interrupts
her. “I got it. Pour another glass.”
As she takes off, I hold the cool bottle of wine against my flushed cheek. I’m not a virgin. Tonight isn’t my first mating run, but Ginger’s stories always make me blush.
“Bitches!” Mel screams as she strolls in behind Ginger. “Are you ready to get laid tonight?”
“You two are terrible,” I mutter.
“I’m getting her liquored up,” Ginger says.
“I brought clothes.” Mel drops two shopping bags worth of clothes on the couch as she passes it. “Every shifter in the hunt will be after you tonight.”
“I doubt it,” I say.
“Don’t be so defeatist,” Ginger says. “I know tonight’s going to be the night you find someone you really like.”
“I’ve already met every wolf shifter for miles. There’s no one new.” I stop talking long enough to squash the lump forming in my throat. “Besides, if I don’t find someone, it’s not the end of the world.”
“Yes, it is,” Mel says. “You’re not losing your ability to shift. You can’t. I mean, we’ll always be friends, but if you can’t shift, how are we going to chase squirrels together?”
“Or scare the shit out of farmers?” Ginger adds.
“We can do other things together. Shopping. Movies…”
“You’ll never lose us,” Mel says. “But are you seriously willing to lose your family? Your parents won’t be able to claim you as their child anymore.”
“Shifter rules are stupid,” I grumble.
“Yes, but the whole pack lives and dies by those rules,” Mel says. “You don’t have a choice. You have to find someone tonight. There’s too much at stake.”
“I know.” Tears brim in my eyes. “But… I think… Maybe there’s something wrong with me because no one wants me.”
“Oh, honey.” Ginger comes over and wraps one arm around me, while holding her wine glass aloft with the other. “You are beautiful, and smart, and funny, and any man who can’t see that is a complete moron.”
“And there are a lot of dumbass men in the pack,” Mel adds. “Don’t forget that.”
“How can she forget? Donovan… Hardy… Justin?” Ginger rolls her eyes.
Summer Shifter Nights Page 53
