Claimed in Forbidden: A Wolf Shifter Romance (Alphas & Alchemy: Fierce Mates Book 1)

by Keira Blackwood

  Slowly I inched my hand to my bag, and clutched it to my chest. Then I bolted from the room and slammed the door behind me. There were sounds inside the room, scratching, cawing, but I’d escaped. I can do hard things.

  I lingered by the door, just to make sure the creature inside couldn’t open it, and dug through my bag for one of the last peanut butter sandwiches I’d packed. By the time I was done eating, I was content that the bird wasn’t coming out this way. I brushed my teeth, careful not to touch anything I didn’t have to, and then headed downstairs.

  Morning light was not kind to my would-be B&B. All the grime was on full display—white powder by the windows and door, dirt caked into the cracks and crevices, and a creepy reddish-brown handprint smeared across the ceiling that I was going to just pretend was chocolate frosting. I went down the hall to the front door where I’d left my little pink toolbox, and assessed the damage I’d caused to the frame when I’d busted in last night. The wood was ruined, possibly beyond my fixing capabilities of super glue, hammer, and screwdriver. A couple of dried-up slugs lay on the floor, tails touching like they’d tried to find comfort in each other before breathing their last.

  “Sorry guys,” I said, and shoved them off to the side, out of sight.

  At least I had a decorating budget. I’d assumed it’d be for furniture and paint, not doorframe repairmen, but maybe I’d just have to pick and choose which rooms to paint first. It was going to be great, dammit.

  My phone rang. I glanced in my bag and saw it was Dad again. I ignored it, not wanting to talk about any of this. So he wouldn’t worry, I texted.

  Bad time. Here safe. Love you.

  Love you, too. Call when you can, he sent back.

  I’d have to talk to my parents eventually, but I wanted to wait until I had some good news. I didn’t like lying to them, and if Dad prodded, I wouldn’t risk crying either.

  Noise came from outside, the sound of crunching rocks and engines approaching. I stepped out onto the porch to see if maybe I did in fact have neighbors or if someone was just as lost out here as I was.

  A big white truck pulled up with a decal on the side marked O’Malley Construction. I hadn’t even gotten the chance to call anyone yet. They couldn’t be here for my place, could they? There had to be a mistake, like they got lost and came to the wrong address.

  The truck stopped in front of my place and the driver’s side door opened. The guy that climbed out looked like he’d just rolled out of bed—wrinkled shirt, messy brown hair. He raised a hand in greeting and headed my way.

  “Hey,” he said. “You the new owner?”

  “Of this establishment?” I crossed my arms. “Yes I am.”

  When he got a little closer, I could see his face. It was a good face, handsome, with a strong jaw and gorgeous green eyes. He was big, too. Six feet tall, built more like a football player than a construction guy. Pretty hot.

  “Tearing it down or going for some kind of haunted attraction?” He strolled up and stopped a few feet away on the stairs.

  “What?” Either I was too distracted by those shoulders and I missed something...or…?

  Another truck pulled up, same as the first. This time three guys climbed out. One of them sported an impressive black eye.

  “Hey, Declan,” the one with the black eye yelled. “We all set to go?”

  Okay, either they were at the wrong house or they were way too presumptuous. Sure, there may be a few things I couldn’t handle on my own, but this was like they were all showing up for work and I hadn’t hired them.

  “You bought this shithole for some reason, didn’t you?” The guy standing in front of me gave me an expectant look.

  “You should go.” I squared my shoulders.

  “We’re the best company around.” He smiled, clearly not taking no for an answer.

  His buddies came up, too. They were all wrinkly-shirt, just-rolled-out-of-bed hotties with no manners. They all had green eyes like the first guy, although the shades were slightly different. If I wasn’t so flustered by their appearance, I’d want to match up the greens to different paint swatches.

  The green eyes made me think they could be brothers. That, and they were all handsome, like they should maybe be in commercials about construction. Or one of those all-male stripper groups.

  My lusty imagination was running wild. Time to put a stop to this.

  “Shoo,” I said. “I don’t want or need anything from you people.”

  A car pulled up behind the trucks, because apparently this was a party.

  “You people?” One of the guys from the second truck punched Declan in the arm. “How’d you screw up so fast?”

  Declan made a growling sound and frowned at his friend.

  “Please leave,” I said, and turned for the door. “You’re not welcome here.”

  “What are you idiots doing?” This voice belonged to a woman.

  Curious, I turned. She was dressed professionally, a pencil skirt and a button-down shirt, but she’d completed the outfit with a pair of Converse. She had green eyes, too. A whole family? Her hair was also brown, but it was up in a tight bun, not all messy and wavy like some of the guys’ hair.

  She pushed through the men and waved her hands at them. “Back up.”

  They did for her what they wouldn’t do for me, and walked back toward their trucks. Part of me wanted to thank her, but I had no idea what her motives were.

  She gave me a warm smile and offered me her hand. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Moira O’Malley. Sorry about my brothers. Since Forbidden’s a small town, everyone and their grandma’s going to want to bring you pies and find out your whole life’s story, and that’d be the case even if this property weren’t so special.”

  It was a special property. I could feel it in my bones. I shook her hand and smiled back. “Daphne Forsythe,” I said. “And that kind of a welcome sounds nice.”

  “It can be, in theory,” Moira said. “But gossip’s a bitch.”

  I laughed. I liked her already.

  “Anyway, welcome to the neighborhood. I didn’t bring a pie, but I do have doughnuts.” She held up a bag I hadn’t noticed her holding.

  The guys were talking to each other, one grumbling something about the food.

  “Thank you,” I said, and reached into the bag. Given I’d been living off peanut butter and jelly for the last week, the doughnuts felt extravagant. I took a bite and melted. This was what breakfast was supposed to taste like.

  “You’re welcome,” she said. “But if I’m being honest, I have ulterior motives. If you’re looking to do some renovations, I’d love to give you a bid.”

  “You’re hired.” The words came right out, without thought. Sure, the guys had come off a little brash, but I liked Moira. I needed my door fixed before tonight so I didn’t have another demon bird incident.

  Presumptuous? Yes. Perfect timing? Also yes.

  I’d saved enough to cover renovation and costs and living expenses for a year, or so I’d thought. Given how much work this place would need, and the fact that I was going to have to pay for help, the money would go faster than I’d anticipated.

  “You just made my day,” she said. “Declan!”

  The guy who’d arrived first came back up to the porch. This time, the look on his face was a bit harder than before.

  Moira turned to me. “Do you mind giving my brother here the grand tour inside, and I’ll have the other three check around out here? See what we’re up against?”

  “Sure.” I shrugged.

  “Excellent.” She headed down the steps and started talking to the other guys. “James, maybe you can check out the basement, make sure there’s no structural damage down there.”

  “One more thing,” I said, before she walked away. “We’ll need to watch costs, only the most essential repairs to get this place up and running.”

  Once I had guests arriving, money wouldn’t be an issue. Until then, I’d be smart with my nest egg.

  “Yo
u’re the boss.” Moira gave me a warm smile.

  I was nervous but excited. I could do this.

  I was left alone with the big rude grump. Hopefully he was better with his hands than with his manners...err, better at fixing things. My cheeks were hot and I swore his expression softened like he could read my thoughts.

  “Let’s go inside,” I said.

  He followed without saying a word.

  “This will be the reception desk,” I said. “The rest, I haven’t quite worked out yet. There’s certainly plenty of rooms.”

  “So not a full demolition?” he asked.

  “No.” I couldn’t believe he was going on about that again. “I’m turning this place into a bed and breakfast.”

  His brows rose on his forehead.

  The hair on the back of my neck stood up. Indignation washed through me, and I felt like a cat ready to scratch his handsome face off. Why did it bother me so much that he was surprised, or that he thought the building should be bulldozed over?

  His opinion didn’t matter. I was doing this, and it was going to be great.

  “The door jamb is broken,” he said.

  “Yeah…”

  He knelt down and touched the white stuff on the floor by the door and pinched some between his fingers.

  “I wouldn’t touch that,” I said.

  “It’s not hazardous,” he said. “Just salt.”

  “Okay…” I started walking again, down the hall full of rooms. “These are all locked, and I don’t have the key. I’d rather not break everything, so maybe we could have a key made.”

  He nodded.

  “Over here is the kitchen.” I pointed to the locked door with the window, where we could see through to the appliances and grimy-looking counters. “I don’t have a key for this one either.”

  He grabbed the knob and twisted. I was going to protest, but it made a snapping sound and opened.

  My mouth fell open in surprise. Damn, he was strong. And now my kitchen was before me. I took a moment to imagine it with walls of faint yellow, with light granite counters and a sturdy tile floor. Brilliant turquoise valances would go over the windows, matching the hand towels and potholders.

  Declan looked at me. “You’ll need access to the bathrooms and kitchen first. Those should be our priority.”

  Yeah, that made sense.

  “And then rooms for guests, so they can help fund the rest of the renovations,” I said.

  “You know this will be a difficult renovation,” he said.

  “It’s okay,” I said, keeping my voice bright. “I can do hard things.”

  He looked at me, his expression blank, and then he started walking again.

  I followed him into the kitchen as he looked around. It was spacious. I wondered what worked—the stove, the fridge, the—

  Declan gasped and jumped three feet to the side.

  I expected the turkey vulture to be there, spewing vomit on him or something. Turned out, it was a bug. Just a slug on the floor by another locked door. I also noted that there was an exit to the backyard right off the kitchen. I wondered if that door would be locked, too.

  “You okay?” I smirked at the big guy.

  “Yeah, fine.”

  “Have a problem with bugs?”

  “My problem is that they exist. You have an infestation?”

  “No? I don’t know. I’ve only seen two before this one, both of them dead. Maybe it came from under here.” There was about an inch of open space under the mystery door. I gestured to it with my foot.

  “Looks like interior access to the basement,” he said. Then he grabbed the handle and snapped that one, too.

  The knobs must have been made of the cheapest metal. I said, “Can we maybe not break all the doors?”

  Through the new entry, set of wooden steps led down beside a grimy cinderblock wall. A light was on down there, and I could hear one of Declan’s brothers moving around.

  “It’s not usual for slugs to be in a basement,” he said, completely ignoring me. “They like cool, damp spaces. There shouldn’t be more than one or two though, unless there’s something for them to eat down there, like rotting vegetation.”

  He shuddered and shut the basement door. Then he glanced out the window where one of his brothers was disappearing through the outer basement doors.

  “Well, I’m more worried about the bird upstairs and well, a lot of other things.”

  “Bird?”

  “Turkey vulture.”

  I took him upstairs and he went fearlessly into the office. He marched past the bird and over to a broom in the corner. Declan came around the vulture and waved the broom at it.

  “Go on,” he said to it.

  It gave a begrudging flap of its wings, then flew out the window. Declan set down the broom and closed the window after the bird-monster. My hero.

  Apparently he hated creepy-crawlies, but giant demon birds were no problem. After that, there wasn’t much to see. I showed him the bathroom, more locked doors, and then we went back out to the front porch.

  “Can I ask you something?” Declan said.

  Before the vulture thing, I’d have probably scowled at him. After his help shooing away the bird, I was feeling more generous. “Sure.”

  “Why a bed and breakfast? Why this place?”

  “It’s my adventure,” I said.

  He looked at me like I was crazy. Whatever. I didn’t need his approval.

  “Adventure is climbing Mt. Everest,” he said. “You bought a decrepit insane asylum and are planning to make people sleep in it.”

  My mouth fell open. Surely I hadn’t heard him right. “Asylum?”

  Chapter 4

  Declan

  “Can you guys unhitch the camper trailer from my truck,” Moira said, “and put it over there?” She pointed to a spot near the trees.

  Finn and James got to work, Brody trailing behind them and grumbling about his black eye, courtesy of having to wake up James this morning. He was being a baby—the bruise was already fading. Gift of shifter healing abilities.

  “I can’t believe you’re staying here,” Daphne was saying to Moira. “Like, wouldn’t you be more comfortable at home?”

  “Oh, I’m not staying here,” Moira said with a laugh. Then she pointed at me. “He is.”

  “Wait, what?” I said. “I don’t think so.”

  “Well, I think so. You’re the perfect one to remain on-site,” Moira said. “You can work with Daphne to make sure her vision comes to fruition.”

  Daphne was looking at me, her wide, gray-blue eyes bright and evaluating. I tried to focus on those gorgeous eyes and not check out her body—again. Between the way her blond hair was tied up in a bandana, the low-cut shirt, and the construction boots paired with cutoff jean shorts, she looked like a pinup model. All that was missing was a pink toolbox. Her tits looked so squeezable, her neck so soft. I wanted to press gentle bites against her skin, watch her blush.

  She said, “When do you want to look through my scrapbook?”

  Um, never. “Now’s good, I guess,” I said.

  When she smiled, a deep dimple appeared in her cheek. Cute.

  But she wasn’t my type. She was human. And after the disaster of a relationship I’d had just out of high school, I knew to stay away from human women. There were enough shifters in Forbidden that I’d been okay scratching the itch. Until recently, when I’d lost interest in shallow fucking. If I wanted a meaningless orgasm, I could rub one out in the shower and not have to go through the whole song and dance of hooking up and saying goodbye. Just seemed easier.

  I knew whose pert titties would be front and center in my next shower fantasy—Daphne’s.

  I had to lock that idea up right-quick, before my hard-on became noticeable. I’d been fighting it since we first drove up and Daphne had come out onto the porch to shoo us away like we were troublesome kids playing in her yard.

  “My scrapbook is just upstairs,” Daphne said. “I could go get it.”
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  “No need,” I said. “We have to do the basic, big things first. That means supplies. I’ll run over to Forbidden Hardware and grab what we need.”

  “Forbidden Hardware?” Daphne said.

  “I know,” Moira said. “It sounds like some kind of BDSM supply company. But it’s just a hardware store. Sadly.”

  She winked. Daphne’s cheeks turned pink.

  “I’m coming with you,” Daphne said to me. “Wait here.”

  She dashed down the hall and came back a second later with a large book in her arms. Her scrapbook, I presumed.

  I didn’t know what to say. “Uhhhh…”

  From the edge of the patio, Moira smirked. I pretended to scratch my ear and subtly flipped her off.

  “That’s okay,” I said to Daphne. “I can get things on my own.”

  “But what about paying?” she said.

  “Company credit card. We’ll bill you afterward,” I said.

  “I insist.” Daphne started walking to my truck, holding the scrapbook in front of her like a shield.

  Moira was trying not to laugh as I followed our new client to my truck.

  Daphne opened the door and let herself into the passenger seat. I was surprised she wasn’t insisting on driving, too.

  “You know,” I said, getting behind the wheel, “I’m perfectly capable of gathering a load of two-by-fours without help.”

  She shot me a look that said she doubted it.

  I sighed and started the truck.

  “So, O’Malley Construction,” Daphne said. “It’s a family business?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Cool. And your sister’s the boss?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Cool,” she said again. I was getting the notion it might be her favorite word. “And how long have you been doing construction?”

  “Since I was a teenager.”

  “Do you like it?” she asked.

  “Yep.”

  She sighed and looked out the window. I took that opportunity to glance at her again. She was as obnoxious as anything, but I couldn’t deny she was hot. It made me feel confused, and I didn’t like confusion; I liked certainty. I liked having a plan, and sticking with it.