Mates
a Claws Clause prequel
Jessica Lynch
Copyright © 2019 by Jessica Lynch
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 written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover by Jessica Lynch
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
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About the Author
Also by Jessica Lynch
Prologue
Paranormal unions (also referred to colloquially as matings, claimings, bloodings, soul mates, etc.) will be accorded the same rights as a common law marriage (see state laws for more information).
In order for any union involving a Paranormal (either Paranormal/Paranormal or Paranormal/human) to be recognized by the city state, it must be formalized with a notarized certificate, also referred to as a “Bonding License”. Once the certificate is issued, the Paranormal will be accorded all rights and privileges as outlined in this ordinance.
Also, any individual who, regardless of their “instincts”, absconds with another individual, Paranormal or human, with the aim of forcing a union, will face the same penalty as if there was no perceived tie between them, ie. kidnapping, assault, etc.
— Ordinance 7304
Section II
1
Maddox Wolfe liked to live on the wild side—when he thought he could get away with it, that was.
Made sense. As a shifter, and second-in-command to his father’s pack, he knew he was born to roam, even if he couldn’t go too far; as a man, he was both reckless yet constantly aware of his responsibilities. It was a contradiction, sure, but one he enjoyed. When the day finally came that his Alpha actually retired—because hell would freeze over before anyone forcibly stole control from Terrence Wolfe’s claws—Maddox knew that he would have to settle down, take over the pack.
Lead them.
Thank Alpha that wasn’t today, though. Or even tomorrow.
He was the firstborn son, a true alpha, and the heir to their pack. Comprised of a motley mix of wolf, bear, and large cat shifters, a strong pack like theirs could only be led by a beast as powerful as his, with a mate who could temper his lusts and help him rule. His mother, Sarah, had always done for Terrence, and their mating was one Maddox looked up to.
He refused to settle for less and, since he was old enough to know what a mate was, Mad had earnestly searched for the one woman who was meant to be his.
He was twenty-six years into his search, though, and despite sniffing around everywhere his roaming travels took him in between his responsibilities, he’d yet to catch a whiff of his one true mate.
So, for now, he ran. As itchy and as restless as he’d been feeling lately, that was all he could do. He wanted to run, and he did so while skirting the line between should and shouldn’t, safe and, well, a pretty bad idea.
If his father knew what he was doing, he’d have his hide. If his brother knew, he’d remind Mad that he was the Beta. And if Dodge knew…
Ah. Who was he kidding? That ghost knew everything, and probably thought it was hysterical how, at Maddox’s age, he was still a virgin.
Couldn’t be helped. And, at any rate, no one could stop him from breaking free whenever he could. He was big enough, strong enough, with a beast that could take down creatures twice its size.
And it would stop at nothing to find its mate.
Finding her, claiming her… it was his main focus. Sure, he worked hard as a construction foreman, and he’d been groomed to take over the pack since he was a pup, but that didn’t change who Maddox was on the inside.
Of course, to a shifter, living on the wild side meant something completely different than it did to the humans—which was why Terrence was so frustrated with his oldest son. It meant living more as a man than a wolf, coexisting alongside the humans, acting as if their societies didn’t stay separate despite the powers that be insisting that—more than fifty years after paranormals were forced to reveal the truth of their existence—Paras and humans were one big happy family.
Maddox was an oddity among the other shifters in his pack. He had no problem mingling with the other races. One of his oldest friends was a witch, he managed to almost always tolerate Colt’s ghost pal, and he did all of the interacting with humans on the pack’s behalf that needed to be done. Despite the dominating nature of his wolf, Maddox was at ease among all types, human or Para.
Well, except for Nightwalkers. But no one liked Nightwalkers—not even other Nightwalkers.
His father gave up arguing over Maddox’s open attitude years ago. Colton had never been able to figure out his older brother’s fascination with the humans—or, as he so often sneered, the Ants. Derisive and angry when it came to non-shifters, Colt never thought of the humans as anything other than ants: far too many, admittedly hardworking, even if they were annoying and way, way too easily squished.
Maddox was different. He didn’t give a shit who knew it, either. If they were strong enough to challenge him, fine. That was a good thing about being an alpha wolf shifter. There weren’t many out there—Para or human—who could challenge him.
Which was precisely why it didn’t matter to him where he went to break out into his fur for a while. Laws said that shifters could have free rein of any park—even if most stayed away from the humans—and he was confident that, wherever he roamed, he’d be the biggest, the baddest beast around.
So, instead of running on pack land, or even taking to the hundreds of acres that bordered the Bumptown where his brother built his home, Maddox drove to the border of Woodbridge.
It was a mostly human town, not too far from his home in Wolf’s Creek, that had one or two Paras living on the outskirts, trying their best to blend in.
Besides, he had a built-in excuse. If anyone asked why he chose to run in Woodbridge of all places, he could always tell them he was visiting Cilla.
Maddox had known Priscilla Winters for most of his life. Like him, she was a Para who found herself trapped between both worlds. A witch who chose not to live with her coven in Coventry, she rented a small house on a secluded human street and worked for a private buyer, performing spells, chanting incantations, crafting wards, and dabbling in a bit of divination for a client who kept her in as many diamonds as her witchy little heart could ever want.
Because her employer kept her so busy, and working under his father—as second in the pack and lead foreman for their construction company—left Maddox with little free time, he hadn’t seen Cilla in ages. Taking this run was as good an excuse as any to see if she was in, maybe grab a bite to eat and check in with her, see how she had been.
If he remembered correctly, there was this great hole in the wall down the street from Cilla’s cul de sac that served two-inch thick steaks. His wolf lifted its muzzle, breathing in deeply, tasting all of the scents in the air. On the late afternoon breeze, he could just catch a hint of meat cooking in the distance. He started to salivate. Even if Cilla was out, he could cap off his run with a delicious meal before heading home.
The wind shifted.
Another scent blew past him. Soft. Sweet. Whatever it was had an undertone of vanilla, but that wasn’t all. There wa
s a depth to it that had his wolf snuffling before it sniffed deeply—
His fur stood on end. He dug his claws into the dirt, tearing at the grass as he pawed at it anxiously—
Snap.
In a daze, Maddox landed bare-assed naked in a heap on the dirt. He fell onto his belly, a shooting pain coursing through his body when he crushed something long and hard and super sensitive beneath him; it felt like he landed on a steel bar that had only the smallest amount of give to it. The pain was sudden and fierce, enough to tear a howl out of his human throat.
He flopped like a fish, going from belly to back, his chest heaving as he tried to get a grip on what the hell had just happened to him.
Because it shouldn’t have.
Ever since he was a young pup, Maddox had no problem controlling his shift, and for a good reason, too—when your mother snarled at you for ruining another pair of pants, you learned how to keep from shifting in place and turning your clothes to tatters real quick.
Then there were the ridiculous rules, laws, and ordinances that dictated when and where and how a shifter could change shapes, like no shifting within twenty-five feet of a government building. To keep from pissing off—or, more accurately, terrifying—the humans, controlling a shift was essential. Plus, it was the mark of an alpha, having complete dominion over every part of his body no matter the shape.
So to snap like a rubber band, going from fur to skin in a heartbeat without giving his body the command? That was one hell of a surprise because it shouldn’t have happened.
But that wasn’t the only surprise. Or, he realized an instant later as his eyes were drawn to his cock, even the biggest one.
In spite of what he was seeing, Maddox still couldn’t believe it. The scent was one thing, the sudden shift another. But this—
Propping himself up on his elbows, he looked down at his crotch. And he stared.
Nope. He wasn’t imagining it.
For the first time in his life, he had an erection.
That… that wasn’t supposed to happen, either.
Good thing he knew what to expect when it finally did or he might’ve thought his cock was suddenly possessed. He was a shifter, sure, but he was also a man who wanted to make sure he could please his future mate. He’d been intimately familiar with porn for years, even if he considered the videos more instructional than anything else, and if he was surprised to discover his hard cock could put any porn star to shame? At least his mate would be pretty damn pleased with him.
He’d always known what he could do with an erection, though it had been impossible to get one until he found his mate. Didn’t mean he wasn’t curious. Hell, it had been a game for him and his brother when they were just past pup age: who could find their dad’s girly mags and snatch one without leaving a scent trail.
Of course, he discovered them every time they tried, more put out that they left traces of their theft behind than the fact that they had gone snooping in his office in the first place. Considering Terrence Wolfe also wanted to prepare his boys for life as an alpha wolf when it came to all things, Maddox long ago decided that his father left those magazines out on purpose just so he and Colt could get a clue.
It was still a bit unbelievable, though. Was this really happening? Now?
Maddox kept staring as his cock bobbed and twitched, moisture seeping out from the head. He reached a finger out, the tip of his claw grazing the sensitive crown.
He shivered and, throwing his head back, he groaned. Alpha, that felt fucking amazing. So he did it again.
He couldn’t help himself. In the back of his mind, he was glad that he’d chosen to run in a secluded, thick part of the woods so that no one else was around. Not only could he explore this newfound pleasure in private, but it would make it so much easier to finish his search at last.
In the forefront of his hazy, lust-filled brain, he struggled to accept what this meant.
Everything had just changed.
Sitting on the ground, brittle grass scratching his ass, he marveled at his lower half in silence, tempted to stroke the length from root to tip, eager to experience his first orgasm.
It would be a shadow of what mating his female would be like, he knew. Still, even that first touch was almost enough to blow his mind with the sensation.
Maddox placed his hand against the dirt, thrusting into the air as he tried to get the sudden rush under control.
His cock was hard, almost painfully so, the normally tan skin gone ruddy as the blood rushed south. He’d tripled in size, his girth easily doubled. It pointed skyward, the head weeping gently as it begged for it mate. No doubt that this was an erection.
Which meant one thing and one thing only.
The truth beat at his brain.
Mate.
His mate. She was there. Somewhere close.
He had to get to her.
Now.
Maddox took another breath, deeper than the one that had his wolf spiraling out of control. It had to be true, and it would definitely explain why he snapped out of his shift the way that he had. His wolf would’ve picked up on the scent on the breeze first, then stepped back to force the man to come forward to experience it himself.
And there it was. Soft, subtle, a whisper on the wind but already so ingrained deep inside of him that Maddox knew he’d run to the edge of the earth to hunt that scent down.
The scent, and the woman it undoubtedly belonged to.
His woman. His one true mate.
Somewhere, not too far from where he sat playing with his cock in the dirt, the only woman meant for him was waiting for him to find her.
So that’s what he was going to do.
* * *
With that tantalizing scent deep in his lungs, Maddox’s wolf wanted to break out again, roll around in it, wrap itself up in it.
But the man was firmly in charge now that the shock was quickly passing. And while he struggled with the second head that was suddenly rearing up, making itself very, very known, he still had a brain in the one on top of his shoulders.
He knew exactly what he had to do.
It wasn’t just the power of her scent that told him who this mystery woman was to him, either. With his cock ready and willing for the first time ever, he had the biggest clue. Because no matter how the media, the rumors, the internet portrayed predator shifters as feral men who couldn’t keep their beasts leashed, there was absolutely no truth to the whispers that a male shifter mated any woman his beast took a liking to.
Not only was that prejudiced against shifters, who believed a mate was a sacred thing, a partner who deserved to be desired, loved, and protected, but it was physically impossible.
To a shifter, a mate was as much about the heart as it was about reproduction for the simple fact that only bonded mates could produce pups, and the body knew it.
Female shifters had it a little bit easier. They could mate as much as they wanted to, with whoever they wanted; their bodies didn’t begin to ovulate until they were bonded so there was no chance of having a pup with any other male. Male shifters, though? They were as limp as a wet noodle until they first scented their mate. After that, they were shooting blanks until their mate was formally claimed, bit and seed and all.
He took another deep breath, altering his trajectory just enough when the wind shifted again. Nothing could stop him or stand in his way.
Maddox’s mate was close enough for her scent to carry to him on the wind. No matter what, he had to find her.
And not just because his cock was all but begging him to, either.
Discovering your fated mate without any magical assistance was already near impossible; only a few witches had that ability, and getting one to use it without first going bankrupt was even more rare. Chancing upon his woman like this? To Maddox, it put the fate in fated mate.
First, though, he had needed clothes. Tracking his mate while wearing skin or fur probably wouldn’t be the best idea. He was a shifter, but hell if he wasn’t civil
ized.
Before he let his wolf out to run, he made sure to tuck his shirt, his jeans, his boots neatly in the cab of his truck. And even if he hadn’t? He always had a back-up outfit stowed in a duffel bag in the back.
It might have been years since he lost control of his shift like that, but the first time you got caught somewhere without a spare change of clothes was the last time you got caught somewhere without a spare change of clothes.
With the all familiar snap, Maddox had given his form over to his wolf. For two reasons: because it would look really weird to run through the Woodbridge woods naked with a monster hard-on he could barely resist petting, plus his wolf would be way faster when it came to dashing over the park’s terrain.
He made it back to his truck in no time. Changing shapes within a split second, his shifter senses assuring him that no one else was around, he retrieved the duffel from his truck and hurriedly shimmied on the fresh clothes.
When meeting a mate for the first time, he figured, he might as well make the best impression as he could.
Unfortunately for Maddox, that plan lasted only as long as it took him to track down the source of that amazing scent.
He wasn’t thinking. Instincts were riding him hard, the man knowing that there was a woman out there waiting for him, the wolf keening for its mate. He was straining against the leash that kept a shifter from turning completely feral, and his brain had gone on vacation with that first glorious pulse of pleasure.
It was his only excuse. Because what he did when he could sense the owner of that scent on the other side of the bushes in his path was just dumb.
Like a bull stampeding forward, he burst through the bushes. He didn’t slow down. He didn’t pause, then leisurely find a way around the greenery that separated him from his mate. No, Maddox forced his way through it as if they weren’t even there.
Mates: Prequel (Claws Clause Book 0) Page 1
