Claimed (The Cull Book 1) (4 page)

The Change

Anna couldn’t control the hard bark of pleasure as Conor
filled her, not just with his cock but also with his essence. He forced life
into her dying body with his love—with his devotion. The bite had been painful,
almost excruciating, but only for a second. The moment he began licking and
sucking at the punctures, the pain turned to a form of pleasure that burned in
her blood. The thumping of her heart sounded loud in her ears making her want
to scream to pierce the thick, muffling noise.

His deep, penetrating thrusts drove her wild, satisfying the
agonizing ache pulsating just under her skin. She watched him through slitted
lids, amazed at how his shift had not changed her desire. The widening of his
eyes, the thickening of his brow, the sharp teeth and claws—they should have
frightened Anna. But all doubt and fear had washed away the minute she’d said,
“I. Am. Yours.” No three words had ever freed her more.

Now, his blood and saliva coursed through her like a new
awareness. She felt every long inch of his thick shaft stroking her—bringing a
rush of blood to her stomach, her thighs, her groin—to the edge of untamed
rapture.

Everything looked different now. The room and Conor equally
looked bleach-washed with high levels of contrast. The vibrant colors of the
blankets around them had dulled, and Conor’s natural golden skin took on a
pale, almost white color. Even though her ability to see color had dulled, the
rest of her senses made everything around seem vivacious and alive.
 

She could see every hair and bead of sweat on Conor, and
every hard cut of muscle as if someone had turned on a magical light. She could
hear his heart thrumming in his chest, the pace impossibly fast. But even
beyond that she could hear other heartbeats and strangers’ voices in the
distance, laughing, cries of pleasure, and cries of pain.

Anna concentrated on Conor’s breathing, on his pulse,
driving the other distractions away. She didn’t want anything or anyone taking
her out of this one moment of pure perfection. The feel of Conor inside her,
the heat of him running through her blood and under her skin.
 
Her jaws snapped to taste the air between
them, his scent, earth and musk, coating the roof of her mouth. She pierced her
tongue as her teeth shifted, grew, and sharpened.

Outside the den, a sound drifted through the euphoria.
Rebecca, the woman who had tried to take Conor from Anna, scoffed in contempt.
The sound triggered a shock of determination. A force inside her, one that
hadn’t been there before the bite, compelled Anna to claim Conor as he had
claimed her—to mark him so that no bitch would ever wonder if there was even
the tiniest bit of space to come between them. She would kill anyone who tried.
Her violent thoughts shook her to the core.

“Fuck, Anna, fuck,” Conor moaned as he grabbed her hips with
both hands and pulled her to him as he quickened his pace. The sweat on their
bodies mingled where they collided in the ugly-beautiful act of their savage
union. When he cried out her name, “Anna!” She opened her wide jaws and bit
into his shoulder, piercing muscle and flesh until her newly formed canines hit
bone.

Conor howled while his blood rushed into Anna’s mouth. The
sound and the taste drove her beyond the brink. She let go—screaming as the
orgasm ripped through her. It tore away all sense of self, of individual, until
she was no longer an “I” but a “we.” She shook—her back arching as another wave
of pleasure forced tears from her eyes and her skin stretched and tugged over
her bones—the tightening sensation rode the sharp edge of
too much
.

Conor roared—his thighs quaked between her legs as she
ground her clit against him. He pumped his climax hard and fierce until he
thrust one final time. He held her so firmly in his embrace that she had to
fight for breath. The orgasm had waned, but the burning in her flesh and blood
remained. While it had felt good, better than good moments before, now it hurt.
The closest she’d ever come to this kind of pain had been during a bone marrow
biopsy when she’d first been diagnosed with cancer. This pain was similar—bone
deep—but not just isolated to her hip. No. This pain stretched her entire body.

“Oh,” she groaned.

“Anna?” Conor held her away from him, his inhuman face with
glowing eyes, beautiful and wolfish, but still human-like in this half-form.
“Take a deep breath.”

“I don’t understand.” The searing fire in her bones moved
from her chest to her hip and shoulders, her arms and legs, and finally, the
mind-numbing assault flared hot white in her brain. She screamed and screamed,
the merciless pain stealing her ability to think.

Conor withdrew from her as gently as he could. “It’s okay,
Anna. It’s okay. This will pass.”

If Anna knew anything at all, it was
not
okay.
 
This felt like
death. At least it made her wish for death. She didn’t resist when Conor picked
her up in his arms. The bright shock of moonlight calmed her frying brain when
they passed through the doors of the den. He lay her down on the dirt and
started barking orders to the gathering crowd.
So many people
. She’d heard them after he’d bitten her, but now
actually seeing them, it made everything more or less real.

The roar in her ears deafened her, and she couldn’t
understand what Conor was yelling as he cradled her limp figure. Soon, the
onlookers began shifting into wolves of various sizes and colors from light to
dark. They huddled around, the close contact of their fur quieted Anna’s mind
and took the edge off her misery.

“What’s happening?” she asked weakly when she regained her
voice.

“It’s so fast, baby.” He stroked her hair, her neck, and her
back, holding her tight to his body, also covered in fur now, but still in
half-form. “But you’re shedding your human shell and becoming one of us. Don’t
fight it. The first time can be so hard, but it’s easier if you don’t fight
it.”
 

Any questions she had cut off when the bones in her body
began to snap and crack. Her spine pressed up and outward as it grew hunched.
She wasn’t prepared for the high, the rush of joy, when fur sprouted and fell
like dominoes falling down her skin. The adrenaline surge and power brought the
entire world around her into clarity. Where she’d heard everything before, now
she heard the steady thrum of heartbeats, all in unison with her own, slowing
as her pulse slowed.

Her lips didn’t feel right when she tilted her face to Conor
and smiled. Her brow narrowed when her tongue lolled out the side of mouth.

In her head, she heard his words so plain it was as if he’d
spoke directly in her ear.
You okay,
baby?

Am I a wolf?
she
answered back in the same way.

He grinned. His green eyes glowed with heat and energy.
Yes, and you are magnificent.

A million things went through her head in that moment of
realization, but the only response she gave him was the one response that
mattered.
I love you, Conor. I always
have.
She licked his face and strange noise wheezed from her throat as she
tried to laugh.
Let’s run. I want to run.
Can we run?

As long as you want to
run with me or to me, we can run all night.

She took a second to appreciate his
Slow Ride
reference before twisting her new body until she freed
herself from his grip. Her tail awkwardly smacked his thigh. Anna still had things
to figure out. Her son Sam deserved an explanation. She couldn’t just disappear
from his life. But those problems could wait until morning. Tonight, she was
Conor’s—completely and irrevocably. She growled and snapped at Rebecca as she
trotted past the little bitch.
Conor is
mine.
Rebecca dropped her gaze and turned away.

Anna looked back in time to see Conor shifting into full
wolf, a large beast—his fur a mixture of white, brown, and black. She sang a
note through her throat, instinctually knowing the call as a summons.

Conor’s wolf raised his brow.

She swished her tail.
If
you catch me, you can have me.

Conor huffed, a strong snort of air lifted the dust from the
ground between his huge paws. He leveled a gaze at Anna and took a giant leap
in the air, stopping just inches from her.

Anna’s laughter filled both of their minds as she turned and
raced into the woods.

She could hear his voice, even with some distance between
them, as he took off after her. His last words were:
Challenge accepted.

Note
from Renee:
If you liked
The Cull: Claimed, please consider leaving a review or a rating on the site
where you purchased the copy. Reader reviews help the author and the author’s
books to remain valued by the distributors.

I appreciate ALL the readers who take the time to offer feedback or
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You all are the reasons I keep telling
stories! If you do leave a review, please email me at
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I’d love to thank you personally!

First Chapter Excerpt for The
Cull: Protected (Book 2)

He’s Not My
Mate, He’s My Sponsor

When Braden Jackson spotted the tall, curvaceous naked brunette
stepping out of the concrete den, his stomach dropped, his cock stiffened, and
his inner beast howled. The newly culled woman’s face was round with wide
cheekbones and wide-set eyes—indigo with tiny gold flecks that shined when the
morning sunlight crossed her path. Her wide mouth stretched in a yawn, and when
she glanced his way and smiled, sharp dimples dinted her cheeks.

Beautiful
.

It had been three days since the invited had been culled and
transformed by bite and blood. The tribe’s land in the Ozark Mountains, lush
with colorful foliage, trees, and clear streams and springs, was a perfect and
private location. Members of the tribe used it when the need to run as a wolf
overwhelmed them, but usually no more than a handful of lycanosapiens attended
at a time. The place hadn’t seen these kinds of numbers since the last cull
during the time of the Great Depression.

Most of the tribe members—natural borne and culled—would spend the
week naked, changing back and forth from two legs to four legs at their
pleasure. His kind was very comfortable with both their forms. In that sense,
the woman’s nakedness didn’t surprise Braden. His visceral reaction to her—that
was another story.

When she reached for the sky, clasped her hands, and twisted her
torso to Braden, his breath caught in his throat. Her lush breasts swayed with
the movement. Brazenly, she held his gaze as she dropped her arms to her sides,
her fingers sliding over her ample hips in mild reproach.

His cock jerked, making him glad he’d put on jeans after his
earlier run. Otherwise, the proof of his desire would be pointedly obvious and
hard to hide. He smiled when she winked.
What
a woman!

Braden had been born in the late sixties, a son of two first
generation lycanosapiens or natural borns. His people had been culling human’s
to create more of their kind for thousands of years. They usually waited for
times of great disaster. He’d heard the stories from his parents and
grandparents, and from the tribal elders, but actually watching a cull take
place, being a part of the process, had been an eye opening experience for
Braden.

The invited were usually people in desperate circumstances: the
destitute, the terminally ill, and the desperate. Which category did the
enticing woman belong? Whichever, she certainly looked happy and healthy now.

She went up on the balls of her feet. Her breasts gave a slight
bounce as she dropped back on her heels. Braden grinned.
Very healthy
.

The woman put her hands on her hips and sauntered over. She looked
Braden up and down while tugging the side of her lower lip into her mouth.
Finally, after a moment’s assessment, she asked, “Are you okay? You look like
you swallowed a bug.”

Oh, man. She had a sweet, southern accent, but not so Deep South
he’d need a dentist. Some of the newly culled were shy about their bodies, but
not this beauty. She acted completely unaware of her nakedness. “I’m Braden,”
he said.

The charming brunette held out her hand. “Eve. Eve Taylor.” A
pulse of energy washed into Braden as she shook his hand with friendly
enthusiasm. “Nice to meet you, Branden.”

Braden inwardly groaned. It was never a good sign when a woman
couldn’t get your name right. “It’s Braden,” he said again.

“All right,” Eve smiled. She hadn’t let go of his hand. “Braden.”

“Eve!” a man shouted. Braden and Eve both looked. Tom Ellis, a
first generation, stood outside the den where Eve had emerged. He was a broad
man, built like a heavy weight boxer.

Braden ground his teeth as an unnatural fury surfaced. His
fingernails turned to claws and cut through his fisted palms. Had Tom and Eve
shared a den? The thought made him sick to his stomach. Tom worked in law
enforcement in the human world—no stranger to violence and death. Braden was a
teacher. Ellis had a reputation for getting exactly what he wanted when he
wanted it. What chance did Braden stand up against such a hardcore beast?

“I guess I better go,” Eve said, looking over her shoulder to Tom.

With surprising speed, Braden grabbed her wrist before she could
leave. “Are you mated to him?” He punctuated his question with a growl. He
should have sensed her as claimed or mated, but she didn’t feel tethered… to
anyone.

Eve narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Ellis.” Braden could barely control his reaction. Fuck! He could
feel Ellis’s glare almost burning his skin, but he couldn’t stop himself. He
wanted Eve—wanted her to the point of stupidity. He had to know if he had any
chance with the dark-haired beauty. “Tom Ellis. Is he your mate? Have you…”

Eve yanked her arm away from Braden before he could say more.
“Don’t be crude. Of course I haven’t--” She waved her hand dismissively. “He’s
my sponsor.”

The word “sponsor” took Braden aback. “As in AA?”

She snorted. “You’re funny.”

“Eve!” Ellis barked her name like an order.

“Sorry,” she smiled apologetically. “I told Tom I’d go for a run.”
Eve took Braden’s hand, her fingertips lightly dancing on his palms. “Maybe
I’ll see you ‘round later.”

She jogged backwards a few steps, her cheekbones widening as her
nose and mouth began to protrude, and her eyes shifted from dark blue to the
color of a clear sky. Within seconds her muscles began to ripple as a layer of
fur sprouted smooth and thick over her entire body. In wolf form, she was a
rich cream color with touches of brown, black, and white with the thickest
concentration of brown around the crown of her head.

She glanced at Braden once before taking off in a brisk lope into
the woods. Ellis didn’t immediately follow. Instead, he approached Braden as
soon as Eve was out of sight.

Ellis was a tall man, at least six feet four inches—a good three
inches taller than Braden. Even more intimidating, he was nearly twice as wide,
all beefed up with workout muscle. No wonder, he looked astonished when Braden
didn’t flinch.

The big man pointed a finger at Braden’s chest. “Go near Eve again
and I’ll take you out, Jackson.”

Anger overrode Braden’s good sense. “She said you two aren’t
mated.”

Tom Ellis’s face turned ruddy and his mouth thinned. The veins on
his necks bulged and twitched as he clenched his fists. “I plan to remedy that
real soon.”

A knot tightened in Braden’s chest
over Ellis’s declaration—something so sinister in the way he’d said
remedy
. Before Braden could respond,
Ellis turned on his heel, transformed into a large gray wolf, and raced into
the dense woods. A half second later, Braden was out of his jeans and tracking
after him.