Caught in Heat [Half-breed Shifter Series Book 1] (2 page)

With that, the female leapt. The little girl screamed again as the teen lifted his arms to shield them. The alpha stood back and grinned. He loved to watch his mate in action. She was beautiful during a feeding.

Savage and untamed, and all his.

His body grew hard, and his cock lengthened as she took the boy’s arm in her teeth and flung the kid to the side as if he was a mere chew toy. Nothing turned him on like the sight of his mate in the middle of a bloodbath. Reaching down, he stroked himself, growing more excited as he watched.

His mate swished the base of her tail to the side, revealing the swollen, glistening lips of her vulva. She loved to be fucked during her feast; it made her more ravenous. And he loved to fuck her.

Screams and breaking furniture from the first floor rose to serenade them, arousing him to the point of action. He started forward to mount her as she gorged, beginning to shift forms, when the human boy flew forward and jumped onto the female wolf’s back. His cry of outrage stunned the alpha into a halt, his eyebrows lifting. Well, shit. The kid had some spunk in him after all. The boy wrapped his thin arms around the female’s neck and yanked her head back.

She came off the human girl with a roar, bucking and spinning in a circle to throw him. But the boy dug his knees into her fur and hung on.

Staying in human form a bit longer since it was easier to masturbate that way, the alpha jerked his hips into his fist. His mate fought harder, her frantic movements making his dick pulse with pleasure. God damn. The boy was actually giving her a challenge. Maybe he’d have more fun killing the kid than he’d first thought.

He opened his mouth to call out a warning to his mate, telling her not to slaughter the boy—he wanted that privilege for himself—when a loud pop filled the air. His female yelped, then staggered. The kid twisted her neck again. Another pop of snapping cartilage followed. This time, his mate slumped and fell to the floor with a thud. She didn’t move.

The alpha blinked. What the fuck?

His cock going limp, he rushed forward, landing on his knees by his female. Still, she didn’t stir. He shook her, but her life-force drained from her.

He lifted his head and narrowed his gaze on the teen who’d hobbled to the girl and was gathering up her blood-drenched body into his arms, her tender skin ripped open from throat to groin.

The little shit had just killed his woman.

“Hailey,” the boy sobbed, rocking his dead sister back and forth. “Hailey, wake up.” One of his arms bled profusely and hung limply at his side, but he clutched the little girl anyway and wept.

“You killed my mate,” the alpha roared.

White hot anger poured through his veins.

The boy lifted his head just in time to see the alpha flash from human into beast. Eyes flaring as he continued to clutch the girl, the kid jerked to his feet and stumbled in an effort to keep hold of his sister and escape at the same time.

In a mindless fury, the alpha leapt. He expected to kill the punk with one slice of his claw, but deceptively quick, the boy dropped the corpse and dodged out of his way at the last moment. The wolf grazed his cheek. It was enough to make the kid cry out and clutch his face, blood splattering the walls. But it wasn’t enough to kill or even permanently disable him. He skittered away, clambering with both arms and legs toward the door.

Snarling, the wolf dodged after him. Assuming the kid would keep fleeing, he pounded forward with full force. But the boy was full of surprises. Just as the wolf leapt, the kid spun around, a toy baton in his grasp. Unable to stop, the wolf’s momentum carried him forward until he impaled himself on the toy. Sharp pain sliced through his shoulder and took him down.

He landed on the boy. Too dazed to move, he blinked back the black spots dancing in his vision. The teen struggled under him. This was his chance to kill, but the kid grabbed the baton and cranked on it. His roar was a mixture of agony and fury, growing weaker until blackness consumed him.

He came to, alone in the room with the corpse of his mate and the little girl littered across the blood-stained pink carpet. The teen was nowhere in sight.

Godammit. Now he’d to have to find the boy.

Footsteps thundered up the stairs.

“We gotta go,” Cliché panted, his eyes wide and anxious as he skidded into the room. “The bitch called 911 before we could take her down.” His still stiff penis was lathered with blood, like maybe he’d been sticking it into a corpse, which, knowing him, he probably had.

“So?” the alpha said, easing to his feet. A couple stupid humans with badges didn’t intimidate him.

“What the hell?” The beta gaped at the fallen female. “What happened to her?” He spun around and caught sight of the alpha’s wound just as the alpha yanked the baton from his shoulder with a pained snarl. “What the fuck happened to
you
?”

“We have to find that boy,” he said, a growl rumbling in his throat.

“Can’t,” the quiet one said as he rushed through the doorway. Always a messy eater, he wiped at blood and chunks of skin smeared across his mouth, face, and the top portion of his chest. “A dozen cop cars just pulled into the drive. We have to go. Now.”

“I can handle a couple cops. That little shit killed my mate.”

“You might be able to stop a few humans, but you can’t stop their bullets. We’ll get the kid later.”

The alpha wanted to argue, but the front door crashed open and the sound of yelling and footsteps erupted on the first floor.

“We’ll get the kid later,” Cliché repeated, taking the alpha’s arm as if to help him walk.

He jerked away. “Come on,” the alpha snarled with a reluctant glance over his shoulder. “There’s an opening in the window in the hall. We can escape there.”

It went against his nature to run, to leave his mate behind. But his betas were right. He couldn’t take down a dozen men with loaded weapons. So, he tucked his tail between his legs and fled with the other two.

As soon as he reached the woods, however, he paused and glanced back, the lights from the emergency vehicles reflecting in his eyes. They’d probably throw his mate’s carcass out with the trash as if she was some kind of diseased wild animal. It was all that fucking kid’s fault.

If it was the last thing he did, he’d find that boy. He’d find that boy and kill him.

Chapter One

Fifteen Years Later

Branches slapped at Riley Bane as she darted between trees and vines. The forest floor, littered with all variety of foliage, ripe and flourishing from the summer heat, provided even more obstacles to dodge. Yet that did not slow her. Panic propelled her forward; her paws whispered on the ground as they raced over nature’s debris.

Twigs tangled in her fur. She’d have a hell of time combing them out once she stopped.

That didn’t slow her, either.

Her time ran short. The fever had come upon her quickly. She hadn’t realized it would happen this fast. But her body’s response to the change was prompt and potent. It urged her to turn around, return to her jamboree, and ease the boiling needs already sweltering inside her.

Her head, however, still contained a rational, functioning brain that refused to obey the laws of her kind. She would not give in to her body’s desires simply because her hormones demanded it was time.

Humans could control their baser instincts, and half of Riley remained very-much human, so she’d control this. She’d resist the draw thrumming through her bloodstream, growing more impatient with each step she raced.

She quickened her pace, all four feet eating up the ground. The night rushed past her in a dark blur. Only a crescent moon lighted her way, but in this form, she didn’t even need that much illumination. She saw better, moved faster, reacted instinctively when shifted into her animal. And tonight was all about speed and precision.

But a need unlike any she’d ever experienced before possessed her, pulsing through her cunt until she growled low in her throat. She struggled to concentrate. The sanctuary was purposely well-hidden. It was nearly impossible to locate when one was working on all four cylinders. With the roar rushing through her veins and muddling her thoughts, though, she’d require a miracle to find it.

She’d already stopped three times to massage her pussy to the point of release, but that only seemed to double the strength of her yearning when the fever returned. If she’d stayed home, she probably would’ve climaxed her way through a dozen males by now. And loved every second of it. The need to come again grew and expanded inside her; she just wanted to—

No! She would not let the fever consume her. She’d prevail. She’d find the sanctuary and—

The ground under her hind leg gave way. Riley twisted to compensate and pull herself free of the hole, but sharp teeth clamped around her ankle, biting all the way to the bone.

She howled. Her earsplitting yet scratchy cry that pierced the night could no doubt be heard by every predator within a five-mile radius. Not that she cared. The agony was brutal.

As her body went into distress, she shifted into her natural shape, and the hairy paw caught in the trap turned into a smooth, human female foot. Naked, drenched in sweat, and panting, she curled into the fetal position until she could focus past the pain.

She needed to free herself and escape as quickly as possible before every curious creature in the forest found her exposed and vulnerable. And ripe for the feasting. She tried to shift back into her animal, gritting her teeth and straining, but it was useless. The pain immobilized her.

The only good thing about remaining human was that she had fingers that worked.

She reached down in the dark, fumbling for a latch to release the spring. Moaning as each move dug the razors deeper into her ankle, she patted the cold metal trap until she found a hinge. Her fingers investigated the area. When she discovered a padlock preventing her from pulling the metal jaws apart, she whimpered, fear clogging her windpipe. This was no simple animal trap. It had been specifically designed to catch and keep prey with a functioning brain and working fingers.

Prey like her.

Someone was hunting shapeshifters. And they’d caught one.

* * * * *

Shaw Griffin jerked awake as the alarm sounded through the dim compound. He snatched his combat boots off the tabletop and pushed out of the old office chair, ignoring the sore muscles that shrieked at him for falling asleep at his desk again.

He didn’t pause to roll his thick shoulders for a nice, relaxing stretch. There was no time.

One of his traps had been sprung.

After slapping off the alarm, he grabbed his shotgun from the peg where it hung on the wall and strode toward the door as he opened the action to make sure it was still loaded. When he spied a shell resting where it should be, he slung the gun’s strap over his shoulder. Grabbing a spotlight on his way, he pulled open the door. He didn’t turn on the light but found the ladder’s railing by feel.

Grasping the sides, he hoisted himself up by his arms and began to climb. Twenty feet later, he reached the ceiling, where he grunted as he cranked on a lever and pressed open the round hatch before shoving it out of his way. After doing a chin-up to pull himself from the earth, he pushed through the hole, hefted his jean-clad ass onto the ground beside the opening and then swung his feet up after him. By the time he had the hatch replaced, he was already panting with exhaustion. Hot, moist marshy air pressed against his lungs, sucking away even more of his oxygen. Using the tail of his black t-shirt, he wiped at the sweat beaded on his brow.

All that work and he still had to hike through the thickest part of the woods to check the trap.

If he’d caught another opossum or raccoon, he was going to be good and pissed.

Unable to see shit in this darkness, he itched to turn on his light but resisted the urge. There was no reason to bring any more attention to himself than necessary. He already knew these motherfuckers would be able to smell and hear him coming a mile away.

Their fine-tuned animal senses put his pathetic human instincts to shame. Not that such a frightening fact was going to make him stop his pursuit. Clutching the darkened spotlight and patting the shotgun to reassure himself it was still there, he started his hike. Breathing evenly so his panting wouldn’t echo too far ahead of him, he paused every few steps to listen.

It took him ten minutes to reach the spot. Before approaching the clearing where he’d set the trap, he stopped and crouched into the underbrush. Waiting until the forest returned to its usual rustle from him disturbing its environment, he lifted his ear toward the direction of the trap.

Finally, he heard the faint sound of something struggling to break free. It wheezed in anxious exertion. It didn’t sound like a coon.

His lips spread. Maybe he’d caught one, after all.

Keeping alert, he waited another minute. When no other sound besides the thrashing at the trap reached his ears, he stood and vigilantly approached the area. One couldn’t be too cautious when dealing with shapeshifters. They were wily and dangerous and way too damn smart.