by KH LeMoyne
Well, that wasn’t going to work, Lena thought. It seemed as good a time as any to test the weight of her new influence. Pointedly, she turned to Deacon. “I’d like to speak with Trim, privately.”
Deacon left without a word or even a backward glance. Stunned by his rapid acceptance, Lena glanced back at Trim. She took a few awkward moments to choose her words wisely as Trim crossed her arms and waited.
“Women have a right to hold positions of power. If you’re stepping down because this is a mixed-up sense of competition, then you don’t need to do this.”
“Of course it’s about you.” Trim uncrossed her arms, closed her eyes for a second, and then looked her square in the eyes. “It’s not mixed up. For emotional bonds, we’re more animal than human. Deacon’s second works side by side with him. Constantly. No mated shifter should tolerate such intimacy from the opposite sex. It would be uncomfortable for him and for you, not to mention me.”
“I’m not about to be jealous if you work with him. I’ve even been told I need to assemble my own team.”
Trim shrugged and offered a curt nod.
“Deacon isn’t going to be jealous if I have males on that team, will he?”
“If he was, he’d never show his jealousy.”
“I’d never do anything to cause him to feel that way either.”
Blowing out a sigh, Trim ran pink-tipped nails through her short hair and turned back. “I respect the position you hold, and it’s your choice to test those waters, but I can’t remain in my position. Trust me on this. I would second-guess myself all the time. For what it’s worth, I admire what you’ve done. You didn’t back down from me or Grizz or anyone. I shouldn’t have dismissed your determination—and concern for our people. It was unfair.”
Surprised at the vulnerability beneath the hard layer of command, Lena risked another push. “Will that tough apology buy me enough leeway for you to consider an offer from me? If I have any chance of being seen as a strong female alpha and not just a domestic partner, I need a strong second. One with experience, who isn’t bashful about pointing out the loopholes in my plans.”
Eyes flaring wide, Trim froze and then blinked. “I believe Hansen expects to have that role.”
Boy, did information flow fast in the shifter teams. “I haven’t offered anyone the position of second—until now. And, as you pointed out, he wouldn’t be a good choice if it would bother Deacon. Not to mention that as far as a team—I’ve only got Hansen. Oh, there’s also Trevor,” she added with a smile. “I imagine you can see the imbalance there.”
Trim actually laughed.
“I’m facing an excess of testosterone. I think you’d agree you and I have the same goals.” She chewed her cheek and glanced toward the mountain, those separating the clan from the call of the ferals.
Trim froze. Then her lips rose in a slow smirk. “You have guts.” Just as quickly, the brightness in her eyes dimmed. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that, if the offer still stands. But I have some personal things to work out away from here first.”
It would seem that Wharton might have been correct. Lena held out her hand. “Then I’ll wait. You’re good at what you do, Trim. Don’t waste too long deciding. Sometimes our own thoughts are our worst enemy.”
The woman eyed her hand for a second and then firmly accepted the handshake before turning and shifting into her wolf. Lena watched the glint of red fur until it disappeared over the far ridge.
“You handled that well.”
Lena relaxed into Deacon’s embrace, his chest warm against her back. “Were you listening in on my private conversation?”
“Wolf. Excellent hearing.”
“Ah yes. Those superspecial skills. I’d forgotten you had those.” She laughed and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Here’s a new one you’ll enjoy.”
A swell of power washed over her skin, her muscles clenching as uncontrollable spikes of desire hit her. The mating mark throbbed as a gentle warmth tingled from her breast to her pussy. “Can you show me how to do that to you?”
“You already have the same effect on me every time I think of you.”
“Smooth talker.”
He brushed his lips over her ear as he ushered her out of the auditorium and toward a glass-and-wood structure in the near distance. “Whatever brings the lovely flush to your cheeks and sparkle to your eyes.”
21
Five days after the clan meeting
Deacon blinked at the golden pink of sunrise streaming through his window. He stroked the bed beside him to find it still warm but empty. He forced his heart to slow down from the sudden rush at her absence. She would exert her independence. Test him mercilessly, perhaps. But leave him—no. For as much as she mesmerized him, in a peculiar twist of fate, he delivered the same for her.
Even now, he could sense her at the edge of the territory.
He shifted and shook, the wolf jubilant to be freed. Instead of heading directly to his mate, he turned, targeting the center of town near the orchard.
Deacon squinted. Swift breezes brushed against his face, and he inhaled a burst of earth and clover rising from beneath his paws. The city was shielded from harsh elements, but a bitter undercurrent promised snow tonight. Exaltation pulsed through his blood. Mouth open to catch one last whiff of fresh mountain air, he vaulted over a low rock wall. With the center of town before him, he didn’t bother to shift out of his wolf form. Shaking his ruff, he approached the children rolling on the grass beneath a large Douglas fir.
Reducing his run to a trot, he waited until they noticed him. One squeal announced they were aware of his presence, followed by several more as the children surrounded him. Flushed faces and sticky hands rubbed his legs. Deacon bowed his head lower so the youngsters could reach his muzzle and press into his fur. He shifted his weight, slapping his paws first left and then right of the excited children. At the laughing chorus, several mothers filled the backdoor of the nearby house. With a shake of their heads, they left him to play, his shifter magic and healing spraying like dewdrops among the children.
They enjoyed the attention, but his body luxuriated in the buoyant touch of innocence and joy that he hadn’t felt free to experience in too many years. A happiness he wouldn’t have thought possible again until Lena.
Gently, he shook them off and backed away.
Then, with a stronger growl and shake that spun his fur from nose to tail, he inspired a group squeal loud enough to bring the mothers back. He received smiles as he launched toward the rocks and meadow.
Now he needed his mate.
He powered around trees and over rocks, hesitating briefly at the hint of deer in the distance. He had more important prey to catch.
Suddenly there, laid out on her belly on a thick sleeping bag with her palms pressed to the bare earth, Lena squinted toward the northeast border of his territory as if intense concentration would reveal its secrets. Amazing how her thoughts ran parallel to his, both of them unable to shake the disturbing sensations from Gauthier’s territory. The orchestrator of Ford’s attempted kidnapping had retreated to those lands. As of yet, Deacon’s sources had no new news of more feral’s or a hiding place.
He turned his attention to Lena.
She carried his mark now. No human barriers shielded her from whatever malice touched the clan. What he felt, she did too. And despite a longer lifespan now, she was still more fragile than he cared to think about. Though he knew all she cared about was sharing the oneness of their family.
She glanced over her shoulder as he shifted from his wolf and covered her with his body. “So how do we go after them?”
“There isn’t a timid bone in your body, is there?” He should be scared, but she brought fire to the fight to protect his people.
“What they did to Trevor is unconscionable. He wasn’t the first and they’ll continue until we stop them.”
A low growl vibrated. “We will do this together. No more running off into the night. You pro
mised me.” He rolled her over, bringing her on top of him. Her warmth and gentle smile almost distracted him from his purpose. Almost.
“So where does that leave me? And don’t say home safe.” She laughed and rubbed her cheek against his before she peppered kisses along his jaw.
Thank you, Great Mother, for granting me a gift in such a mate. “Alpha mate. You govern all you can see.”
“I govern?”
“You are mine.” She bristled, but he noted her shiver as the breeze blew over them. His instant command stemmed the currents and raised the immediate air temperature, then rolled her protectively beneath him. Nuzzling her cheek, he growled in satisfaction as she sighed with the new warmth. “As I am yours.”
“I love that you are mine, Deacon Black.”
For his wolf, the rumble of pleasure would suffice. For the man, only peeling off the layers of Lena’s clothes and claiming her beneath the brilliant sunshine would even come close to total satisfaction. He’d heard her words, acknowledged her pledge. But neither a hundred days nor a hundred years would be enough to quench his thirst.
Lena laughed as he pried apart each of her buttons. The warmth of her skin lulled him. The familiar steady beat of her heart synchronized with his.
Life was good. Very good.
“Can you feel the threat?” She stroked his cheek, tracing the scar to his artery.
Patiently releasing the gates to his senses, he laid his cheek to her breast. Then he nodded. Still resonating, the earth’s vibration waited on his next move, though now it beckoned him with clarity. No longer driven by a manic need to battle, he could see the future shift in layers. One piece at a time, thanks to his power and her unwavering determination. They could conquer the threat.
Her fingers stroked through his hair. “Will we find the ones who started this?”
He pressed a kiss to her palm. “Yes.”
An epic jangle of The Lord of the Rings theme song broke the peace. “Shanae has a peculiar sense of humor,” he said as he pulled out his cell phone and placed it beside her. He covered her hand with his and brushed the face of the phone.
A text message streamed across the screen.
Official Request to Alpha Deacon Black from Shifters Unlimited Secretary — Alpha Karndottir found murdered inside his home — Assailant in custody — Clan demands right of Alpha Board Tribunal — Request Alpha Black retrieve and hold assassin Rayven Karndottir until trial.
“In answer to your question, I believe we will let them come to us.”
She clutched the phone, reading the message again. “This is too easy. Just because Karndottir is dead doesn’t mean we’ll have answers.”
“Yes, it’s too easy. Though with his death we may have new options.” He kissed her temple as they both looked toward the fading nighttime horizon. “We also have a secret weapon they haven’t anticipated.”
Her mouth twitched, a smile starting at the corner of her lips as she glanced at him. “You and me.”
“You for certain.” He rolled her to her back and tasted her lips a little longer. “Let’s see if I can make you see stars again before breakfast.”
“Anything to spread goodwill around the clan.” Her laughter filled the air, and despite the danger headed their way in the form of assassins and tribunals, Deacon’s heart beat strong with warm vibrations from fifteen thousand safe souls and the one in particular who had claimed him forever.
The End
Dear readers,
Thank you for reading MISSING! I hope you enjoyed Lena and Deacon’s story, if so please consider leaving a review.
The series continues with TRAITOR and a new Shifters Unlimited Prequel, BLOOD OATH.
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Best wishes.
Keep reading for an excerpt of BLOOD OATH and TRAITOR!
Blood Oath
A Shifters Unlimited Prequel Novel #1
How fast can you outrun death when it has you by the throat?
Callum Mann will do whatever it takes to get his pregnant mate across the territory line to safety and free from his alpha’s grasp. Even if he has to sacrifice himself.
Raised a survivor, Gillian isn’t about to let anything stand between her family’s freedom and happiness. Not a vengeful alpha, a twisted killer, or a rogue enforcer.
1
Near Williams Lake
British Columbia, Canada
August, 1921
“Williams Lake Station, next stop. Fifteen minutes.” The bass of the conductor’s voice vibrated from a dozen seats behind Callum.
Not soon enough. He rolled his shoulders, but the anticipation knotting his muscles refused to let go as his blood pumped through his veins in a fevered rush. For six long hours, he’d battled his cat. Fought the demand to leap from the stifling train car into the surrounding woodlands and speed through the forests in his feline form. His body wound tighter with each mile as the train drew closer to home.
Not a response driven by his connection to the wood-and-mortar building on his parents’ parcel of land that had been home for the early years of his life.
No. The nexus of this calling originated from a live and vibrant entity binding him by equal parts instinct, emotion, and primal need. The dynamic link pulled at him, straining his normally solid composure.
He tugged at his starched, white dress shirt to ease the chafing around his neck. It didn’t help. Even his tailored suit, pressed hot and rough against his skin, felt as if it had shrunk two sizes since he dressed this morning. He forced a slow exhale through the wild yearning swelling inside him. There was no salve for what he felt. No cure. No bandage. Only a lifelong exposure to one unique scent that lingered on his tongue in a combination of sweet apple and honey.
He could withstand the trials now assaulting him with pleasure. The past several years had taught him anticipation added final gratification despite his current, brief pain. He’d consciously taken jobs requiring travel. He knew the price he paid, and it was worth this constant battle. He could wait.
Patience.
He leaned back in his seat. He accepted his nature, both the beast’s compulsion to protect and his human need to plan everything down to the last detail. Habits he’d built on the ashes of disaster. Fortitude was his strong suit and planning his impenetrable armor.
This morning, he’d boarded the train just north of Vancouver, prepared for the hours to pass without notice. Details for new business ideas needed his attention. Mental lists required checking and rechecking to itemize favors owed by friends. Favors he soon needed to claim.
Yet the closer he got to Williams Lake, the more insistent his cat became. With single-minded focus, his inner beast challenged him for dominance. Sensing the call of its mate, it refused to back down, holding his mind and body in a stasis of controlled torture. But he wasn’t a juvenile and hadn’t let his beast rule him for over a decade.
Easy boy. Callum withheld a smirk. Within the hour, soft kisses and sweet smiles would satisfy them both.
As if to spite him, prickly tendrils of need tightened again in his groin. All right, desire and longing refused to conform to planning. His fingers brushed along the inside of his jacket, stroking the soft strands of ebony hair bound in a simple white bow and pinned to the fabric where no one could see. The touch placated both man and beast, and he bit back a growl. One soothing touch of the fragile memento would hold him.
He drew in a slow breath and dipped his fingers into his jacket pocket. Leaning on the armrest, he slid a coin over the top of his forefinger and rippled the coin over each finger until it was tucked safe in his palm, only to start the pattern again. Just like the surety of his well-practiced coin trick, he’d have his Gillian wrapped in his arms. Better still, he’d soon have all the pieces in place to flee with her from this territory and never again worry about Alpha Gauthier Karndottir’s threats.
Callum focused on the hypnotic sl
ide of the coin across his fingers. The practice involved dexterity, but his internal ritual included locking down any outward evidence of his emotions. He traveled often, dealt with strangers every day. A spy, an alpha’s enforcer, even the alpha himself might see through his motives and take him to task. The direct result of his betrayal would be a swift death.
His impenetrable façade required diligence…and practice. Not something he found difficult on any other day. Yet with only minutes until he could bask in his sweet mate’s smile and lose himself in her scent—well, locking his emotions against her impact was impossible.
“Almost home, Callum? And looking rather dapper.” With his conductor’s cap pristine and recently brushed, Lewis Newton sidled up against the bulkhead with a grin. His suit jacket, not receiving the same diligence, bore a stain of seafood sauce from the club car. “Or do you have a new job?”
Distracted, Callum shifted his hand, and the coin dropped into his lap. Served him right for letting a human sneak up on him. “Still working replacement jobs for railway telegraph offices. However, I take extra work when I find it.” One job ties a man down, but a skill gives him options. He had a rigid work ethic drilled into him by his father. A practice his father didn’t follow, having never left their small town for anything greater. Just two months before Callum was old enough to shift, his father and mother fell victims to hunters, yet his father’s sage advice lived on.
“Aye. I’d never enjoy your vagabond lifestyle. I’m fine never having to get off the train for my job.” Lewis gave a throaty laugh. “Meet all sorts of folk here too. However, you being young and single, must be tempted to travel.”
“Not so much,” Callum said. The truth was, he already indulged in jobs he loved. Clandestine jobs targeting emerging financial opportunities he turned into lucrative partnerships appealed to his sense of adventure.
