Runt of the Litter (Halfbreed Chronicles Book 1)

by Hemlock, Isabelle

  I don’t even hesitate.

  I push myself off the brick wall just enough to reach out to her and pull her to me. She had to see it coming, because I catch the faintest smile on her gorgeous lips just before we close the gap between us. When her body collides against mine, it sends us right back into that wall, and though any human might have winced at the pain, I barely feel it. I don’t even register the light drops of rain around us. Or the sound of the beer bottle crashing at our feet. All I feel is her body, flush with mine, as her one hand braces against my heart, and the other, is already tangled in my hair.

  I’m sure I’m fumbling, because frankly, I have no clue what I’m doing - but I’m not scared, and I’m not even nervous. The taste of her tongue, pressing into my mouth has got me feeling dizzy, and I can feel her round breasts pressing into my chest. I want to reach up from her waist, and run my fingers over the fabric, just see if either the cold, or I, have made her nipples hard. But that’s probably being too forward, so instead I lazily trace her ribcage, as I press into her more. My hands roam, but I’m careful not to go to specific areas. Our emotions, maybe even our hormones, are getting the better of us, but until she tells me otherwise, I’m trying to still be respectful.

  I don’t want to be rough with her. I have the feeling she hasn’t had enough gentleness in her life.

  Luckily, she must have sensed my hesitation, and frees her hand from my hair, to come to mine. She guides it up from her bottom rib, and moves it to her breast, allowing me to get a good feel of just how perfect she is under that dress that’s getting soaked. The feel of the wet fabric has me groaning against her mouth, because I’m desperate to find out if her panties feel the same. If I could be doing to her, what she is doing to me. My hand cups her breast, and even with me being as big as I am, it’s still too small to contain those perfect mounds. My thumb moves across her nipple, only getting a hint of the raised bud straining for my attention. And I’m sure we both wish, that the fabric wasn’t in our way. My touch makes her growl against my mouth, and the sound echoes down into my throat, and makes me moan.

  I have never felt so alive in my life.

  It’s like every cell deep within my body is coming alive.

  My eyes are closed, but all I see is white light.

  My skin feels like it’s the only thing keeping me from crashing into her.

  And the sensation of fur, grazes me from the inside out.

  My brothers have tried to explain to me what it feels like to shift, to have this second person, this wolf persona inside of you - but I had doubted for years that I would ever come into any abilities. Now, with Riley’s perfect body against mine, I can sense this wolf, wanting to mount her and make her ours. For the first time, since her lips touched mine, I get nervous. Not because of her, but because I’ve never had abilities before, and I’m scared as to how it would play out in the side alley of a bar, on Sleepy Eye’s main street.

  With a mutual whine, I hesitatingly push her away, but only enough to speak, and never do I let go of her. We are so out of breath, with our flushed cheeks, and gasping for air, that if anybody saw us, I can only imagine what they’d think. I don’t want to end it before it begins, but I can’t do this here anyways . . . and so, with the last bit of self control that I can muster, I look into her blue eyes, that match mine with their glow and depth, “Riley - not here.”

  She knows what I mean, and bends down to get the flowers that were dropped when we reached for each other, leaving behind the shattered beer bottle. Then tells me I’m driving her home.

  I’m not sure if she means her home, or mine.

  Chapter. 8 – Riley

  He doesn’t fight me when I lead him out of the alley by his hand. The temperature is dipping, but the heat between us is keeping me warm - and the temperature within me is only rising. Feeling his hard body against mine had the exact outcome I had been dreaming about ever since I was told about “mating”. Yes, I want to mount him, but the ache is almost deeper than that. The intensity of wanting to protect him, hold him, caress him, study him, learn every little detail about his life, is what makes it different than anything I’ve ever felt before. This morning we were strangers, and tonight we’re lovers.

  I can’t imagine him wanting to hold back after the way he kissed me, and touched me, but then again, I’ve always been told that as soon as mates find one another, they disappear for at least a week or two and mark one another in every way possible, so the pack knows they’re taken. But Avery seems more cautious, and careful, and frankly, even a little unsure. Someone is bound to argue that maybe we aren’t mates after all, but I feel it in the very core of my being. My only desire is to have him believe it, too.

  It takes everything in me to just pause long enough to ask where his ride is, and with his own hazy eyes, he looks into mine, and I know we both feel it. That the only reason we aren’t acting on this, is because of the location. And I’m doing everything I can to get us out of here. His hand tightens around mine, and if it weren’t for him biting the bottom of his lip, I would think he was about to kiss me again, “Riley - “

  He sounds so pleading, that whatever he asks I’ll do it.

  “ - I’ll give you a ride home, but I think I should go back to my place.”

  I don’t even know how to react to his words, words that feel stifling and make me feel like the wind has been knocked out of my lungs. Is it really that different for halfbreeds? Is this why purebloods and halfbreeds don’t mix? Not because they don’t want to, but because the intensity and love a pureblood feels, isn’t the same for a halfbreed? Was I wrong for thinking he wanted me? He must be sensing my worry, and pulling his hand from mine, puts both of them on my flushed cheeks, “No, please - don’t look so sad.”

  I want to tell him I wouldn’t be sad if it wasn’t for his cold reaction to my wanting him all to myself tonight, but almost like a child, I lean into his touch, desperate for whatever little bit of attention he’s willing to give me, “Avery, I don’t understand. I thought you wanted me, too.”

  He doesn’t waste a moment, diving in, and crashing into my mouth. It’s the same intensity like in the alleyway, and I can feel him groaning into my open mouth, which merely shoots a round of pleasure straight down to my center. My body is more than willing already, and I push right back into him, pressing my body against his, feeling the sparks of energy crashing between us. But once my hands close around his neck, he starts to slow down, and allows the once passionate kiss to taper off into something I never expected my mate to do with me - be gentle.

  I never knew how much I would crave that gentleness until him, and as he kisses my lips one last time, I open my eyes, and see the sliver of ice blue that covers his iris for just a second. It’s his wolf looking at mine, and whatever doubt I had about how he feels melts away. I still don’t know why he’s fighting this, or maybe he just doesn’t understand what’s going on himself. But I don’t need to question his feelings, they are evident in the way he looks at me, “Are you scared?”

  He doesn’t hesitate, “Terrified.”

  “Of what?”

  “I don’t really know how this works, or could ever work. I know I have this ache to be near you already, and the thought of us going home together, sounds downright heavenly. But I’m just not sure how this would play out in the morning, and frankly I’m not a one night man kinda guy.”

  He doesn’t seem to realize how much this turns me on. Though any other werewolf should have been able to smell my desire by now. I wonder if I’m mistaking his age - he did say he had a college degree - but maybe he graduated early? Is he not even eighteen yet? Has he not come into his abilities? “Avery - are you underage?”

  He looks a little miffed, like thinking he’s younger than he looks is somehow a bad thing. Then I remember how he reacted when I chuckled at his name, and he is shorter than the other werewolves. Is he a little sensitive to how he looks? Has he been teased? I feel anger at anybody who would hurt him, and I certainly
won’t let him think I’m trying to do the same, “I just meant, have you not come into your abilities yet?”

  He sighs, and pulls back a little. I won’t let him go though, not until he forces me, too. In a way, I hold him steady, not allowing him to slink back into whatever bad thoughts are swirling to the forefront, “No, and I don’t think I’ll get any. I’m starting to doubt if I’m not just human after all.”

  I can’t help it, I laugh out loud, and he looks back at me, more confused than anything else, “What’s so funny?”

  I let my arm come back just enough to cup his jawline. I wish I could just rub it a little, and make him purr under my grasp. Focus Riley, come on, “I smell your wolf. I can even see your wolf sometimes. You’re not human baby. Not by a long shot.”

  I don’t think he knows what to do with that information. In some ways he looks relieved, in some ways, unsure, and I try to think of anything that could help him with whatever internal battle he’s got going on. I’ve never been a super fan of the Council, but in this case, they might be able to help him out, “Avery, what about asking for the blood test. They do it on all the newborns, why not have them give it to you? That way you know for sure.”

  It’s such a simple plan, I’m surprised he hadn’t thought of it himself earlier. Finally, I see that beautiful smile of his again, as he leans back into me. If I get rewarded like this, every time I come up with an idea, I’ll have to start reading a hell of lot more.

  Chapter. 9 - Avery

  Maybe I’ve just been too close to the situation to really see the almost simple solution to the questions I have: why I didn’t come into my abilities at eighteen like my brothers, why I’m so different than them. Why my wolf seems to be so suppressed. I’ve only known Riley for two hours, and already I want to get on my knees, thank her, and worship her (and her body). Even now, she’s making it easy for me to feel her body against mine. Too easy to for me to get lost in her tender touches, and deep kisses. Ugh, I need to back away, and do this one day at a time. A huge part of me wants her in every way possible, and I already feel like I would be willing to do whatever it takes to have her - but then again, I feel incomparable, and unworthy. And have no idea how this could work.

  I need answers as to what I am from the Council, before I look towards trying to make a future with her.

  Even though my body begs me not to, I peel myself away and hear her whine a little, before I lock my gaze with hers again, “Riley, I’m sorry - I got carried away again.”

  She grins, “Carry me anywhere, anytime babe.”

  Though I can tell she wants to lean right back into me, she’s willing to settle for that ride home she wanted earlier. Maybe she doesn’t want to me feel like I don’t have any say in what happens next? But Riley won’t release me completely. She keeps my fingers tangled with hers, as I lead the way to my ride - a piece of junk bike that my brothers put together just enough to make it functional (but not pretty). I’d be ashamed, but Riley doesn’t even bat an eye about it. She climbs on the back, holding her bouquet, and looking as gorgeous as ever. I don’t deserve her, I’m sure of it. But if she really wants me, I’m not fighting it either.

  Climbing in front of her, she wraps her arm around my waist, and my cock twitches against my slacks, desperately hoping to reach her hand. I’m trying not to move, in case I somehow accidentally make her hand travel lower. Though maybe that’s not such a bad idea . . . “I live about three miles outside of town, hope that’s okay.”

  I only nod my head, as I roar the bike to life, and she leans her head against my back. I wonder if this is what it would feel like to hold her in bed? To have her body close to mine. I try not to think about it anymore, push the desire back a little.

  For some reason, she wants me too, but all this romance is giving me whiplash, and I don’t want to make myself vulnerable until I know what her intentions are long term. I’m not sure if my heart could take it, if she just wanted sex. I mean, I want that, too. But I also want to know what her favorite movies are, or which books she likes to read. Does she eat fruit for breakfast? Does she bite her lip when she gets nervous? Does she enjoy (or cringe) at family reunions?

  I want to fuck her, but I also want to know what makes her tick, what makes Riley, Riley. I want to understand what makes me want to get lost in her so easily, that every wall I built up - always on the defense, always ready to fight for the scraps of life - is now willing to crumble under her gaze. It has to be more than just sexual attraction, right?

  “Right up here, hun. Make a left, then another on the dirt road.”

  She’s leading me to her home, and I don’t know what awaits me there. I plan on leaving, not even stepping off my bike, afraid that whatever little control I still have, will be lost by her pleading to join her in her room. I’ll give in, and then I’ll sink into her so easily that it’ll make both our heads spin . . . I grip the handle a little tighter, fighting the urge to tell her what is swirling around my head. The last thing I need is her permission right now, it’d be too easy to agree with her, without figuring out where we stand first.

  I know reasonably it makes sense to talk first, then fuck, but my cock has never been this hard in my life. And I swear, when we lean a little over, turning onto the dirt road, I feel her hand just ever so gently swipe across the bulge of my pants. It takes all my reserve not to let us tumble off the damn bike, and pull her under me, making her feel just what she was reaching for.

  But just when I think I can’t take it anymore, we reach our destination, and a huge, older man stands on his front porch, quickly approaching us, “Riley Connolly, where the fuck have you been? Savannah came home two hours ago - “ His intense eyes flash my way, before he looks back at her, “And who the Hell is this?!”

  Well there goes my erection.

  Obviously this is her father, I can tell by the familiar smell, and the nose which is straight and almost angular, like hers. She’s got his hair, too. But I’m not calling him a raven Goddess anytime soon. Riley pulls herself away from me, and though I feel like a whine might emit from deep down inside of me from the absence of her touch, I repress it. I get the sense that if her father realizes how I’m feeling, he might actually growl at me.

  I’ve never met a male werewolf before (or at least not that I was aware of). He’s massive, easily as big as Lou, and maybe even another inch or two taller. And though he might be a middle aged man, his muscles easily strain the t-shirt he’s wearing. There’s no play for dominance here, because we both know there’s no point. He’d win, hands down.

  He glares at me, but I don’t realize why until I feel Riley’s hand take mine. His mouth twitches just enough to make me think he’s holding back his contempt at the sight, though he doesn’t stay quiet for long, “Who is this Riley?”

  “His name is Avery Gallagher,” she leans into me just a little, “And he’s my mate.”

  I feel like both her father, and me, give her this mutual double take. If I questioned her motives before, now I know them for certain. I would love to puff out my chest in male pride for somehow having a girl like her, give me such serious contention for her heart, but with her father’s glare back to me, I try to loose the smirk before he spots it. He gazes at me, from top to bottom, and back up again, shakes his head, and looks back to Riley, “I don’t see it - nor do I smell it, you aren’t mated.”

  I’m willing to agree, but Riley won’t hear of it, she takes a half step forward, but clings to my hand all the same, “He’s mine, Daddy.”

  He seems confused, I am confused, and then he steps closer too. With his chin in the air a little, he’s taking a deep whiff, and I realize it’s to catch my scent - and I guess hers on me. I’m sure with how we were making out, there’s some of her on me, but it’s faint, and he seems dissatisfied with whatever smell he’s picking up on me. He scrunches his nose, then lowers his face to mine, eyes wide, “You’re not a werewolf.”

  No shit, is what I’d like to reply with, but I fight the urge to
say it out loud. Instead, I mumble a quick, “No, Sir.” And then he takes another whiff, trying to place me, and figure me out. I don’t know why, but the fact that he’s doing this, makes me think he’s sizing me up for something. A fight? Whether I’m worthy to be a mate to his daughter?

  He looks confused, them mutters about how I don’t smell quite human, that there’s a wolf smell to me, but I’m not a werewolf . . . I’m genuinely surprised how well this family can smell, but Riley interjects, practically rolling her eyes, “He’s a halfbreed Dad, a halfbreed!”

  Finally, his once wide eyes narrow on mine, and I feel like I should be running . . . but Riley’s grip on my hand is so firm, that I’d be dragging her behind me. It’s then that I realize why she’s been holding onto me. At first I thought it was some sort of defiant, rebellious act against her father. But as he stomps closer to us, I realize he isn’t laying it on me like I figured he’d would. And the reason he isn’t physically removing me from his driveway, is because somewhere deep down, even though he doesn’t respect me - he respects his daughter’s choice. Her declaration that I’m her mate, even though he doesn’t smell it on us, much less understand, makes it impossible for him to lay a finger on me. He won’t touch me, because it’s one of their most absolute rules. Mates aren’t to be messed with.