“Not without you,” Caitlyn said.
He turned intense green eyes on her and shook his head. “If I can get there, I will. But you need to get out, Caitlyn. You’re more important than anything else I do here. Please. Go. I don’t want you to be late.”
Tears filled her eyes. She didn’t want to leave without him. Her heart felt like it was cracking open at the very idea.
“Please—”
“The fuck?” a loud voice called from the group of fighters.
“Go,” Grant said, pointing.
Caitlyn ran.
The sharp edges of the crystal dug into her palm, she held it so tightly.
Beastly roars rose up behind her, filling her ears. Was Grant turning into a cougar? Would he be safe? Her legs pumped faster, and she kept moving in the direction Grant had indicated.
The sky lightened—the sun was rising. The witch had said dawn. Shit. Would Caitlyn make it in time? How long would the witch wait?
Then she slowed. An old delivery truck lay on its side and she leaned against it, breathing hard. As strange as everything was that had happened here in the past few days, Caitlyn loved Grant. That was the strangest of all. She loved him and she’d only just met him.
And she would fight for him. She wouldn’t give up, hide from love like her aunt had done. She would go after it with a...with a... She looked around until she spotted a giant metal pipe. Tucking the crystal into her sports bra, she grabbed the pipe and hoisted it in her hand.
She’d fight for Grant, for love, and for their future—whether that future would take place here in the Junkyard or out there in the free world.
She ran again—this time not away from trouble, but toward it.
When she reached Grant and the others, she found them in the midst of a heated battle. Four against one, Grant in the center of it.
One of the men spotted her and left the fight, rushing toward her. She held the pipe in her arms, praying her adrenaline would give her the strength she needed.
They thought she was weak. She’d use that. She pretended to struggle with the weight of the pipe.
The guy smiled. “Is that too heavy for you, sweetheart?”
“No?” She pretended to tremble.
He reached forward, still smiling.
Giving him a smile of her own, she lifted and swung the pipe at the same time. It caught him beneath the chin. He didn’t go down, but he fell back with a curse. His movement distracted Mathers, and Grant took the opportunity to give Mathers a roundhouse kick to the throat.
Mathers fell down, choking, and the other guys paused.
“You can try to win this,” Grant said, “but you’re gonna lose.”
Mathers rolled on the ground, clutching his neck.
“So?” Grant said.
None of the guys stepped forward.
Satisfied, Grant nodded and walked over to Caitlyn. “You okay?”
“I’m good,” she said. “Is Mathers going to die?”
Grant gave him a scornful look. “Sadly, no.” He held out an arm to her. “Shall we?”
Caitlyn nodded and linked her arm with his. Together, they walked to the edge of the Junkyard where the witch was supposed to meet them.
“Do you think we’ll make it in time?” Caitlyn asked.
“I hope so.”
A few minutes later, they passed the small pond. Caitlyn could make out the shape of a person in the distance.
“It’s her,” Caitlyn said. “I think she’s turning around.”
She and Grant dropped each other’s arms and ran.
“Wait for us!” Caitlyn shouted. “We’re coming!”
The figure paused. Caitlyn and Grant kept running until they skidded to a stop at the line of gravel. The witch faced them, her pale blond hair nearly white and falling in a straight sheet down her back. Her eyes were so dark, they were nearly black.
Caitlyn bent at the waist, trying to catch her breath. Looking up from her bent position, she gasped, “I’m Caitlyn, and this is Grant.”
“I’m Maddie,” the woman said.
“Hi, Maddie.” Grant’s deep voice resonated with hope. “Can you let us out of here?”
“You have the crystal?” Maddie asked.
Caitlyn fished the crystal out of her sports bra and showed it to her.
“Good. I’ll let you out, but not him. I don’t know him or why he’s in there.”
That wasn’t the deal, was it?
“No,” Caitlyn said. “You have to let both of us out of here. He’s a good person. I...I love him.”
“It’s okay,” Grant said. “It’s more important that you get out.”
Maddie eyed them curiously. “Are you mates?”
Mates? Carter had said something about that, but Caitlyn didn’t know what it meant. “Like, how animals get together?” she asked.
“For life,” Grant said, nodding. “Yes, we are. At least, I’m hers forever.”
Tears filled Caitlyn’s eyes as she looked into Grant’s determined face. “And I’m yours. I’m not leaving without you.”
Cocking her head, Maddie looked at them again. “If you’re mates, you can get out. Hold hands and come over.”
“Really?” Caitlyn asked. It couldn’t be that easy.
“The boundary will recognize your full hearts,” Maddie said.
Caitlyn looked up at Grant. That was exactly what she felt when she was with him—a full, complete, whole heart. “Should we try this?”
Chapter Eleven
Grant held Caitlyn’s hand in his and looked down at her. He’d never loved anyone more than he loved her. He’d never wanted anything as much as he wanted her happiness and affection.
Maddie stared impassively at them from the other side of the gravel line with her creepy-as-night black eyes. “Well?”
This was it. The moment they would walk across the boundary and be free. Together.
He hated to hope for this, because he was afraid of being disappointed. What if it didn’t work? What if they were both mistaken and they weren’t mates? No, he knew without a doubt that they belonged together as mates—there was no question. But the witch could be wrong about the boundary’s rules.
He tried to ignore the doubt and fear and focus on the hope instead. He looked at his mate and felt the fear dissipate.
“You ready?” he said to Caitlyn.
She nodded, and, looking into each other’s eyes, they stepped over the gravel at the same time.
Grant sighed. Free. They were out at last, and they were together. Pulling Caitlyn into his arms, he gave her their first kiss as free people, outside of the Junkyard, ready to start a wonderful new life together. Caitlyn tasted like vanilla and she smelled sweet and rich like roses. He could kiss her all damn day, but there’d be time for that soon.
Keeping his arms around Caitlyn, Grant looked to Maddie. “Thank you.”
Caitlyn handed Maddie the crystal.
“I didn’t do anything,” Maddie said, peering at the crystal. “But thanks for this. It will help with my spells.”
She turned to go, but Caitlyn said, “Wait.”
Maddie paused. “Yes?”
“There’s another guy in there,” Caitlyn said. “I don’t think he belongs. His heart is good.”
“You’re not talking about Carter, are you?” Grant said, looking at her in surprise.
Her brown eyes were earnest. “I know he’s done some bad things. But he’s not a bad guy.”
“I’m risking the alphas’ wrath just talking to you two,” Maddie said. “They don’t want everyone to know how to get out of the Junkyard. If you want to tell your buddy, fine, but that’s it.”
With that, Maddie walked away, maybe so Grant and Caitlyn wouldn’t be able to ask her any more questions.
Grant squeezed Caitlyn’s hand, then moved his arm around her waist. “Carter, really?”
“Really.” She tilted her head back, looking into Grant’s eyes. She was tired, he could tell. It had been a lo
ng-ass night. But there was still a smile on her face. She stood on tiptoes and he bent forward slightly so she could kiss him. “He’s a jackass, but he isn’t all bad.”
“The man can’t stop with the violence,” Grant said.
“Agree to disagree.”
“Or you could just agree with me,” he said.
She gave him a light smack on the shoulder. Grinning, he reached down and literally swept her off her feet, hauling her into his arms like she was his bride.
Hmm, bride. Not a bad idea. Yeah, he would marry her if she’d have him. But first he wanted to show her his place.
He carried her around the edge of the Junkyard, this time on the outside of that gravel line. The air was the same here. The trees looked and smelled the same. The forest noises were the same. Yet it felt different because they were free.
His cabin came into view, with the hammock on the front porch. He couldn’t wait to show Caitlyn inside, and he hoped she would make the place her own.
He stepped up onto the porch and set Caitlyn down. “Wanna check it out?”
“Yeah, I do,” she said.
He opened the door and they walked in. It was dusty and the food in the refrigerator was going to reek as soon as he pulled it open. He’d leave it closed, for now. The trash, thankfully, didn’t stink—he’d taken it out shortly before he’d gone into the Junkyard.
He tried to see the cabin through Caitlyn’s eyes, and watched as she took in the homey-looking furniture—a simple couch, an easy chair facing the wood stove. No television. The bedroom was the same as the living room except with a bed and nightstand. Everything was simple, except the walls were covered in murals.
“This is amazing,” she said, spinning around to take in the murals, her brown eyes wide in admiration. “I love it, Grant.”
“Do you think you could live out here in the middle of nowhere with a Junkyard shifter like me?” he asked her.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she said, “Yes. I’ll choose you, and love, every time.”
“Caitlyn Dorsey, I love you,” he said. “I’m so happy you’re my mate and my forever love.”
“I love you, too, Grant Lewiston.” She kissed his lips as he held her close, breathing in her scents of vanilla, roses, and happiness.
The End
If you enjoyed Filthy Vandal, be sure to grab the next book in the series, Filthy Beast, releasing May 11th, 2020! Visit https://books2read.com/filthy-beast to find it at your favorite retailer!
About the Author
LIZA STREET LIKES HER heroes packing muscles and her heroines packing agency. She got her start in romance by sneak-reading her grandma's paperbacks. Now she’s a USA Today bestselling author and she spends her time writing about hot shifters with fierce hearts.
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CURSED HEART
Helen Scott
About Cursed Heart
After being a prisoner for hundreds of years Selene knows she only has one choice, escape or die trying, because she’s going to die tomorrow anyway if she doesn’t. The last thing she expects is three wolf shifters to find her while she’s on the run. Can she trust them, or will they turn their backs on her the first chance they get? After all, it’s not everyone who is willing to cross a powerful warlock.
Chapter 1
Selene
Tonight was the night. It was the only chance I was going to get and I wasn't going to waste it. If I did then my life would be forfeit. That didn't mean I wasn't terrified though. The Beast, also known as John—although he preferred that I called him Master or nothing at all—would be preparing for my ascension and after that the harvest of magic from my body, and if I didn't get out before then, well, then I'd die.
"Come on, Alfred," I said, trying to cajole the small mouse out of the hole in the wall as I offered him a piece of bread. "Get it while you can, my friend, because it'll be gone soon."
His pink little nose and whiskers twitched as he edged forward. He was always jumpy after a visit from Beast. I didn't blame him. If I could hide somewhere I would, but my room, cell, cage, whatever you wanted to call it was designed specifically to give me nowhere to hide, and no privacy either.
All I could do in that moment was anxiously await my weekly shower and share my bread with Alfred. I flicked on the TV in the corner and watched whatever was playing. It didn't matter anymore, hell, it hadn't mattered in a long time, the TV was just good for seeing the faces and hearing the voices of other people. Knowing that the world wasn't actually as empty as it seemed helped give me hope. It was a faint one, but it was there.
Voices carried me away until I heard the jangle of keys. My stomach tensed. This was it. I had put two layers of clothes on, something he hated but allowed if I was cold. The butter knife I'd managed to slip away one day was hidden in the sleeve of my sweatshirt and Alfred had curled up in my hair.
"Come on, Little Fox, let's go. You know the drill," Beast said as he slipped his key into the lock. The metal ground against metal as the rusted mechanism began to unlock. The iron bars swung wide open and he stepped to the side allowing me out. He stood there watching me as he flipped the keys up and down, into his palm. It was like he was trying to tempt me.
I moved slowly, cautiously as though I was still afraid of him since my last punishment. The secret I kept to myself, that I hadn't even told Alfred, was that when I realized I was going to die by Beast's hand unless I escaped, I lost my fear of him.
Did the punishment still hurt? Of course. Had I tried to escape before and failed? So many times I lost count. The difference was now I was so close to my ascension that it was escape or die, there was no try another day. Beast believed he had beaten me into submission, that he had broken me, but that was never true, not that I gave him reason to think otherwise.
I cowered even further as I rounded the corner to go past him toward the shower, and I could see the boredom on his face. I was just an item to take care of until I became useful and if I had counted my days right then tomorrow or at the latest the day after I would become very useful and then he would kill me. He followed me to the shower stall and waited for me to strip off.
My hands were shaking as I reached for the cuff of my sweatshirt. I had to do this, had to try one last time. My fingers slipped inside the material and grasped the metal of the butter knife. My heart stilled in my chest as I spun toward him and lunged. He must have sensed something because he was already trying to grab at me.
It wasn't the first time we'd done this dance, but it was the first time my weapon connected. He must not have expected me to have one, which surprised me. We both knew I would try to escape but Beast underestimated me and Alfred.
Instead of hitting with his throat like I wanted it to though, the knife went straight into his eye because he'd been leaning toward me. His howl of pain was music to my ears as I took advantage of the opening and grabbed the keys he'd been twirling in his hand before I made a break for it. I felt his hands try and grasp at my sweatshirt, and as he fell to the ground even though I dodged, he grabbed my pants, and yanked them down with him.
I kicked him in the head, unfortunately missing the knife, and pulled free from the pants as I took off. My bare feet slapped against the concrete floor as I lunged up the stairs toward the exit. The massive door was heavier than it had been the last time I tried to escape, and it was only the fear and pure adrenaline that kept me going as I pushed at it over and over again until it gave way.
The gap I made was just big enough for me to squeeze through before I turned and slammed it closed again. I jammed a key in the lock and tried to turn, but nothing happened. A thud landed against the door as I switched keys and pushed with all my might to keep the door closed.
"You think you can run from me, Little Fox?" Beast's voice was a roar from
the other side of the door and it was only when I heard the lock click into place that I allowed myself to stand upright and not push all my weight against the steel panel. "You should have killed me when you had the chance! I'll never stop hunting you, do you hear me? Your magic is mine and I'll never rest until your body is draped over my altar!"
The vitriol was at a level I'd never experienced from him before, and it let me know exactly what I had always suspected: the ceremony he had to perform to gather my magic would have been as brutal and painful as he could have made it. It wasn't the time to stand and think about what could have been or could still be if he caught me, now was time to run.
I turned and looked at the cabin; he had let things go since I was last upstairs, but there were also more electronics. Everything was smaller and faster, I knew from the TV and books I'd been allowed. What I suspected was his phone was on the counter next to a mug of cold coffee. I grabbed it and put it in the garbage disposal of the sink before turning it on and listening to the screeching of the blades as they tore up the phone. All I wanted was for it to be broken enough so he couldn't use it and when I peered down into the sink that was what I saw.
Satisfied that the one task I had given myself was done I turned and fled. Or attempted to. The back door was locked. I tried key after key but none of them worked.
My stomach seemed to be twisting itself into a complicated knot while my lungs apparently shrank in capacity. My breathing turning to panting as panic began take me over. I couldn’t let it though.
I rushed to the front of the cabin, somewhere I had never really been, at least not when I was coherent since the exit was so far away from the basement. I tried the keys, but none of them worked. Again.
There wasn't much else to the cabin, so I didn't have any other choice but to try and break out.
The sturdiest chair I could see was the one by the kitchen table. It also happened to be the only one I stood a chance of being able to pick up. I tossed it against the window expecting it to break easily, but the chair just bounced off, almost hitting me in the rebound. I tried the other windows all with the same result. I let out a grunt of frustration and heard laughter coming from behind the door.
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