Shifter Wars: Supernatural Battle (Werewolf Dens Book 1)

by Kelly St Clare

  A lump rose in my throat, and for a brave second, a full confession lingered on the tip of my tongue.

  “You can depend on me.” He reached forward to hold my hand in both of his.

  I blinked a few times. “I’m happy I met you.”

  “Not happier than me, dear one.”

  He released me, wiping at his face. “Now get to bed. Gerry is springing a surprise and very brutal training on the stewards at dawn.”

  I winced. “Good to know.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll have recovered by Wednesday night.”

  Dread unfurled at the mention of Sandstone. I had a bad feeling that dread was a warning sign I shouldn’t ignore.

  I walked to the door. “Goodnight, Uncle Herc.”

  His quiet words followed me. “I’m honoured to be your uncle.”

  29

  “Incredible. I don’t even get morning wood around you.”

  I cracked an eyelid open to discover Wade too close. “Huh?”

  “My body doesn’t even subconsciously react to your bits. I really do find you absolutely unattractive.”

  Not the best words I’d woken to, but at least he hadn’t snored or occupied too much of the bed. Grumbling, I couldn’t help peeking down my singlet top to check if my nipples were hard.

  “What’s the verdict? Chimp tits?”

  A laugh startled from me. “Excuse me?”

  “Chimp tits. When a woman’s nipples aren’t hard.”

  “That’s… I don’t know what to say to that.”

  He hummed. “Right. I thought you might want reassurance of our platonic friendship considering the pillow wall you built between us overnight.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Well, it wasn’t me. Four pillows stacked in a row between us—like you expected me to steal your five-years-gone virginity.”

  Eerily accurate on the virginity front. “I don’t sleep-move. No idea how that happened.” I flopped down again as Wade perched on the edge of the bed.

  He crossed the room. “Where did this come from?”

  I tensed, staring at the ceiling. “What is it?”

  “There’s a record player here. And a record. It’s right in the middle of the room. Did you bring it in after seeing Herc?”

  Anger curled around my heart. “What’s the record?”

  He fumbled around. “Uh, Janis Joplin. Never heard of her.”

  I balled my hands. Sascha Greyson was inside the manor last night.

  Was he insane?

  And the idiot got close enough to insert a fucking pillow wall between me and Wade.

  “Maybe someone’s playing a prank,” I croaked.

  Wade turned the record over in his hands. “The record is signed.”

  I kicked off the bed covers, snatching it from him. “It is?”

  “You know who did this!”

  Oops. I lowered the record which was—indeed—signed. It must have cost a fortune.

  Wade folded his arms. “Not talking? That’s fine. I’ll figure it out by myself.”

  Shit. “There’s nothing to figure out.”

  “Oo, Uncle Herc wouldn’t approve, huh? Juicy.” His brows slammed together. “As long as it’s not Billy.”

  I turned to my duffel, dragging out exercise clothes. Dawn couldn’t be far off. “What have you got against Billy anyway?”

  “He treated my younger sister like crap.”

  “You have a sister?”

  “Yes. You should never get one.” His fond tone contradicted that.

  “Where does your family live?”

  “There are cabins covering the entire north range from here and nearly to the lake. Our cabin is about a five-minute walk away. I usually stay with them. Just me, Mum, and Dad. Chrissie lives with her new boyfriend. For the moment.”

  He was super protective. I bit back a smile.

  We dressed and hunkered against the cool air, hurrying to the pavilion.

  “Training will be brutal today,” I muttered. “Herc said.”

  Wade groaned. “I don’t like to know that shit in advance.”

  “Sorry.”

  He wrapped an arm around my shivering frame. “That’s fine. We’ll know each other soon enough. Little details don’t matter. Far more important that we know we’re soulmates from the get-go.”

  I snorted. “Is that what we are?”

  “You don’t feel it?”

  “I thought it was gas.”

  Around fifty bleary-eyed stewards were already gathered. Wade and I joined Cameron, Rhona, and Foley.

  Rhona’s gaze shot between us.

  “Nope,” I chirped.

  Her brow cleared.

  “You still good for later on?” she asked.

  Wade glanced between us. “What’s happening later on?”

  I ignored him. “Sure. After training?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “What’s happening later on?” Wade asked again as Gerry arrived.

  I fell into step beside Rhona. “Any idea what’s on the cards this morning?” Unlike Wade, I preferred to know.

  “A mountain run and manoeuvres. That’s all I’ve got.”

  Wade wedged between us. “What’s happening later on?”

  Gerry passed me two tablets. My vertigo medication.

  “Looks like we’re rock-climbing,” I murmured, swallowing the meds.

  Gerry blew a whistle, and Rhona took off at a jog behind him as he led us into the trees. I fell in behind her.

  “I thought we were soulmates,” Wade hissed at my back.

  My lips trembled. “I didn’t agree to that. Maybe I like the small details before life-long commitments.” Especially given recent circumstances.

  Conversation dwindled as Gerry led us further into the bush. For an older guy, he could move.

  Jesus.

  The climb was steady. The flat sections of the mountain trail felt fucking glorious. I was just happy when we reached the top an hour later that I hadn’t stopped once—though I’d fallen back toward the middle of the group.

  Ice bins filled with bottles awaited us at the top.

  Rhona lobbed me one. “Nice stuff.”

  “It’s getting easier,” I panted, catching the bottle.

  A lot easier. My body had never felt stronger.

  I felt so capable.

  One of the head team members called for silence. What was her name again? Trixie?

  I gulped at my water.

  “Stewards, it was here, nearly three hundred years ago, that our ancestors stood vigil over the land and spotted the Luthers entering these parts.” She pointed behind us.

  I turned with the others, chest filling at the first rays of sunlight bathing the narrow western gully that served as the entrance to Deception Valley.

  “When we fight in Victratum, we fight to honour not only this land but those who have stood strong before us. We are just one link in a very long chain, but that chain anchors us always.” Trixie regarded us solemnly and only ragged breaths disturbed the cool mountain air.

  She held up a fist. “As you all stand here today, we make a pact. The chain will not end with us.”

  Rhona moved closer until we were shoulder to shoulder. On the plateau, others moved to do the same. Wade rested a hand on my left shoulder, and Cameron did the same on my right. Laura from the Clay unit smiled at me as she flanked my other side. Soon, everyone touched.

  Utter silence.

  Trixie’s voice was just above a whisper. “As our ancestors stood where you are right now and vowed to do the same, protect this land with your last breath, and in return, the land will fill your lungs until the end of time. The chain will not end with us.”

  I closed my eyes, focusing on the borrowed warmth seeping into me.

  I was part of a chain now, and this chain wouldn’t break—I wouldn’t let it

  Fumbling, I grabbed Rhona’s hand in a tight hold.

  The cookies were arranged around the bed and on the bed in a way
one would usually associate with rose petals.

  Honestly? I had to give him points for that one. Most of me was just glad Sascha was here during the training session and not up on the mountain. What I’d felt up there was too personal to share with anyone but my tribe.

  Each cookie was on a plate, and I shook my head and picked them up, imagining a robber wolf with a rucksack full of porcelain plates sneaking onto the manor.

  Thank fuck Rhona and I didn’t do her course research in here.

  I crouched by my duffel bag—hair wet after a much-needed shower. Where was my damn brush? Day two and I already hated living out of a bag again.

  I had one of those glitter ones every girl owned at ten and usually replaced by twelve. My hand wrapped around a cool handle.

  Frowning, I drew out a heavy comb. “What the hell?”

  This belonged on some duchess movie. My jaw dropped. He’d been in my bag.

  And he’d left the tranquiliser gun behind. Cocky bastard.

  I dug around for my old hairbrush.

  Gone.

  Dammit.

  Shoving a cookie in my mouth, I combed my hair, glowering at the wall. Rising, I checked the cupboards and leaned out of the window. I couldn’t see the roof from here.

  Dressing, I scoured the rest of the room for new objects.

  A yellow tulip. My favourite flower. And how the heck he’d known that was mind-boggling.

  New saxophone reeds. My preferred size.

  Pine-scented candle.

  A Sudoku book.

  Black ankle boots that I looked at in the window of Noni’s Apparel earlier that week. In my size.

  Fuzzy pyjamas. Also my size.

  My chest rose and fell as I stared at the final item. He’d taken a photo of me and Mum from the apartment and framed it.

  The frame was carved from wood, an intricate design that made the photo appear to be cradled within an ancient tree.

  My throat tightened.

  Shoving aside the frame and a few other items, I scooped up the other items, flinging the windows wide. Checking the coast was clear, I threw everything out.

  “Fuck you,” I hissed to the tree line.

  Yanking the curtains closed, I snatched up the duchess comb, Janis Joplin record, and photo frame, pushing them deep into my duffel bag where I could forget they existed—and that I hadn’t thrown them out too.

  Whatever game the werewolf was playing, he was winning. I couldn’t be on the defensive anymore. I had to figure this out.

  But no matter how I resisted, he wouldn’t stop stalking me.

  I lifted my head. A smile curved my lips.

  No matter how I resisted.

  Greyson wanted a challenge.

  My smile widened to a grin. Yep, that wolf chose the wrong woman to fuck with.

  I cleared the room of my stuff, making the bed. Herc said this was my assigned room for whenever I wanted it, so I didn’t fuss too much.

  Latching the windows, I strode through the manor and to my car, tossing the bag inside.

  Back to my apartment it was.

  The manor was a challenge.

  I smirked, rolling down my window to belt out a song as I drove back into town. There couldn’t be a challenge if I made no effort to hide.

  Pulling into the bakery, I bought a batch of blueberry muffins and returned to the apartment, spending the next hour jotting down a very comprehensive list.

  I copied over a vague version of my manor timetable onto paper too.

  Rummaging through my suitcase, I drew out a black thong and two sexy bras. One showed my nipples. One didn’t.

  Hmm.

  Tossing one back into the case, I yanked off my clothes and pulled on the skimpy underwear, slinging a loose off-the-shoulder dress over the top.

  Waving at Walter Nash outside, I slid into Ella F and set off for pack lands.

  Be bold, Andie Booker.

  After crossing the bridge, I rolled down the window, shouting, “I’m heading to your pack lands, Greyson. Meet you there.”

  Was he around? I imagined his expression. This was the way to put a serious hole in his boner. For good.

  I knew it.

  Pulling over as the road tightened, I ripped off my dress, committing to the role.

  “Thong girl don’t take no prisoners,” I whispered.

  The pack lands didn’t have a guarded gate like the manor, but a large male wolf stepped from the tree line as I crossed some invisible line.

  “Andie,” he grunted in surprise.

  “Hey, Grim,” I said cheerfully. “Just here to see Sascha.”

  The wolf opened his mouth, catching sight of my outfit. Or maybe my nipples. Yeah, I’d gone with that bra. I wouldn’t want to cover my milk machines and have Sascha interpret that as a challenge.

  The massive bouncer coloured and averted his gaze.

  “Thanks, Grim.”

  I drove on. The odd cabin was visible through sparse trees on either side of the dirt road. After a further five minutes, the trees cleared to show large harvest fields pushing to the creek several hundred metres away.

  The fields came to an end, and cabins filled the space after. Most of the pack must live in this area. I couldn’t see the end of the raised houses around the curve of the stream through the trees.

  I scowled at Sascha’s home—one of the only dark-wood homes—closest to the water.

  Parking outside his cabin, I grabbed my sack of props.

  A male Luther exited his cabin.

  “Hi there,” I called. “Could you tell me where Sascha is, please?”

  The man jerked to a halt.

  I smiled encouragingly. Thong girl doesn’t feel discomfort.

  Tilting his head to listen, the Luther pointed a finger to a larger building off to the left.

  “Thanks so much.”

  Striding in that direction, I braced for the best performance of my life. My courage—admittedly—did falter somewhat when I burst into a meeting bungalow of sorts filled to the brim with Luthers.

  Gasps rang out, and I paused in the doorway, scanning for the bastard.

  Sascha had a throne. Well, a huge, high-backed chair covered with a fur pelt with massive antlers.

  Definitely a throne.

  The fucker had to know I was here, and the shocked reaction of his pack was unmissable, but he ignored me, speaking with Leroy—also part of the act judging by how hard he wasn’t looking my way.

  No problem.

  Greeting those I passed, I waved at gawking male Luthers on my right.

  “Hi. Nice day out. Been busy?” Oh my god. This was a much better plan when a hundred people weren’t here to witness it.

  Leroy slipped first, sneaking a quick look. His eyes widened, and then Sascha Greyson was mine.

  The werewolf turned, and his eyes flooded black.

  Ha. No one could miss that. Visual boner.

  Sascha blurred to his feet, and I stumbled at his speed before remembering this was my chance.

  “Greyson. How are you?” I asked, aware that 100 percent of my ass was out.

  His snarled breaths were music to my ears.

  I held up the bag. “I was looking at your wonderful gifts today and realised I haven’t done anything to help you out with all this breeding hoo-ha.”

  Leroy rose, glancing at a trembling Sascha. “Andie—”

  “Let me rectify that.” I dragged out the list. “Here’s a list of my favourite things and preferences. You won’t need to waste resources fishing them out anymore.”

  I held out the list, but Sascha continued to shake.

  “Here, let me,” I said. “You’re out of sorts.”

  Lowering the bag, I tucked the rolled paper in the waistband of his jeans. “You’ll need to take it out later when those pants come off, bad boy.”

  Walking back to the bag, I bent over giving him an unobstructed view of my ass.

  I can’t believe I’m doing this.

  I cleared my throat, straight
ening. “You’ve been tracking me, and that must be really tiring, so here’s my schedule. That way, you can just come out when you really need to. I’m happy to give you a call whenever I leave the apartment, too, if you like.” I tucked the schedule in his pants with the list.

  He stopped shaking and his claws retracted.

  Greyson was leaving the scene.

  I peeked up.

  “You must be hungry after all that work,” I purred.

  I drew out the bag of blueberry muffins. “I’ve recently become fond of these and thought I’d share some with you. Maybe we could eat them just before we have sex. Maybe during. Are you available now?”

  Leroy choked, turning away.

  I shrugged a shoulder when Sascha didn’t respond. “Just give me a call. Better yet, just show up. Doesn’t matter if I’m sleeping or with other people. Just interrupt and give me the nod. Crook the finger. I’ll drop my panties right then, right there. You get the idea.”

  Black drained from his gaze, leaving honey behind.

  Gotcha.

  This was a massive turn-off for his wolf.

  I twirled my hair. “You seem busy right now. I came here ready to breed with you at all costs, but would you like a rain check?”

  Muffled laughter sounded behind me.

  Picking up my bag, I flicked a glance at the row of wolves either side of Sascha. They seemed split into two camps—baffled and amused. Or put another way, male and female.

  Sascha opened his mouth.

  Closed it.

  “Okay, then, handsome. I hope to see you around.” I raked his body with my gaze. “And remember, any time, any place. I’ve noted my favourite positions on the list too.”

  The males automatically looked at the rolled paper in Sascha’s waistband.

  A high-pitched yipping sounded behind me.

  I crouched to catch the cub. “How’s my favourite little man?”

  He wriggled in my grip, whining.

  “It’s nice to see you too. I wasn’t away that long.”

  The cub bounced to lick my face, and I stroked his back.

  “I’m here to see Sascha. We’re going to make you some little friends. Maybe a hundred.”