Greyriver Shifters

by Kristina Weaver

  I jump, my nerves going tight, and I force myself not to lower my head. His wolf is dominant, almost Alpha in its power, and all my wolf wants to do is submit and give him power.

  I’m also slightly ashamed because the day he’s talking about was a particularly bad one for me. The kids had ridiculed me relentlessly while Brig just looked straight ahead as if he didn’t care. I was on the edge of emotional collapse and so close to tears I know they would have ripped me apart had they seen it.

  Shifting into my cougar after school, in view of all those elite, was an act of defiance that my family still looks on proudly. If they knew the consequences of it and that I needed saving from an elite, they wouldn’t feel quite so proud, I bet.

  I don’t.

  “I did it to show them I didn’t care.”

  “Yeah, well you cared so little that you almost got yourself killed and got me fucked up by my father! You think I enjoyed going home smelling like Banes and having my ass kicked when Dad found out what happened?” he snorts, making me wince and look away.

  “I didn’t know—”

  “No, you mixes never do. Did it ever cross your mind that being at an almost entirely elite school made you stand out more? Why your parents sent you there in the first place I will never know because the pack schools were just as good.”

  Yeah. I begged to go there the year I hit junior high. I left all my friends behind and went to a place where mixes were scarce because I was so in love with Brig that I told myself I could deal as long as I saw him every day.

  And see him I did. In all his glory! I mean, I was a kid while Brig was already practically a male, his senior year close to done. Not that he left the school though because he still attended what the elite call private college on the same campus where Brig and the older kids would have private tuition from a tutor before taking college courses two years after.

  By the time I left, graduating early, Brig had been in college, and I was just…alone.

  “Look, this isn’t going to get us anywhere—”

  “No, it won’t because dragging up stuff that doesn’t matter anymore won’t change a thing. So here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to get some rest, as will I, and then in the morning you’ll shift and heal yourself, and we can finally fuck like we’ve wanted to for years.”

  “Brig—”

  “Don’t tell me you don’t want me, Beebee, because I know that would not be true. You and I have been headed in this direction since the day I caught you spying on me and Harm Nolan out in the woods. You thought I didn’t scent your cougar, but you were wrong. And you know what, Beebee? The whole time I was inside that female I was feeling your eyes on me and pretending you were under me. When I came, it was your scent I filled my lungs with,” he drawls, making my sex pulse and ache.

  “Don’t—”

  “I came so hard I thought for sure I’d die it felt so good. Because you were there, watching me, your arousal and need filling the air and wrapping me in you. So yeah, I want you. Hell, I’ve wanted you since you were sixteen years old and I was too fucking old to have a right. I want you now, and I know you want me, too. Don’t you think it’s time we stopped pussyfooting around this and just admit we’re hot for each other?” he asks slowly, his eyes sparking silver within the deep blue depths.

  “I…this isn’t right! We don’t even like each other.”

  “I like what I see and scent, Beebee. Trust me, it feels right to me.”

  Goddammit.

  “Why can’t you just once be an honorable male?!” I yell, my breathing getting heavy as pain fills me.

  Just a body. All I am is parts that he wants to conquer, and I don’t know if I can handle it. I need…more. But this male is exactly the opposite of that and I don’t want that with him.

  “Honor gets you nowhere, Bee, trust me. Now, get some rest,” he says, standing to saunter over to the bed, his smile flashing at me before he whips his fleece off over his head and starts attacking his jeans.

  I look away, gasping while he laughs, but I can’t stop my eyes from going back to him, the urge to look overpowering my common sense. My lungs seize when I peep back at him again, my body going tight between my legs when I see his large, thick member standing proud and so long that I shiver with longing and an empty ache deep inside.

  He catches me looking, of course he does, since he never looked away from me and pushes down a hand to grasp his length, stroking himself slowly while I watch.

  “Tomorrow, mate.”

  It’s only when he laughs at my gaping mouth, drops his hand, and slides onto the mattress that I can move, and when I do, I realize two things: the couch is mine and it’s going to kill me, and I am so horny I won’t sleep for close to an hour even though my body is begging me to.

  Chapter Four

  Brig

  I keep my breathing even and pretend to sleep until I hear her breathing even out and feel the tension leave her, the soft sound of her breaths letting me know when she reaches that place of true, healing sleep.

  When I’m sure she’s out, I roll from the bed and walk over to the fireplace, adding another log when I look over to see her curled into a ball, trying to stay warm.

  Hell.

  Hating my weakness, I stalk over to the bed, grab a quilt, and gently cover her, my eyes going to the dark circles beneath Beebee’s eyes and the sunken look of her cheeks where she’s obviously lost weight.

  Christ, I hate that I feel like shit for her condition, and even more I hate that I blame myself for not being smarter and more on top of things before this.

  I have officially left my pack, having run when my sister Hannah used me to explain away Beebee’s disappearance. To have my father foaming at the mouth and Gile Kendall ready to rip off my balls because Hannah spread a rumor that I impregnated Beebee…

  Well, I reckoned that it was time to cut my losses and make a break. But first I had to set things in motion and ensure that my role as an agent for the resistance wouldn’t have those bastards hunting me down.

  I am now officially free and clear of them, having delivered on something they wanted as a means of payment for getting out. Almost like being in the CIA and having the enemy after you for defecting.

  Well, I more than paid up and my freedom is nigh, after I manage to get Beebee out of my life in two weeks. Why Hannah doesn’t want her back before then, she hasn’t told me, but for now, I’m willing to pay that debt because, hey, I get something out of it.

  Two weeks slaking myself on this female whom I have wanted for years.

  I’m about to turn away, needing rest of my own, when she shifts onto her stomach, the sweats moving down to reveal her pretty little ass. I take a minute to enjoy the sight of firm, round globes and a deep split that tells me she’ll be a nice handful before it registers that the blue I took for cold earlier is still there but darker now, revealing bruising on a level that attests to a beating that must have been beyond painful.

  Sonofabitch!

  The sight makes my wolf rear up and snarl, his protective instinct towards Beebee overriding my natural antipathy so that I stand staring down at her bruised ass far longer than is necessary, plotting murder the more the color darkens and changes, some spots turning an ugly black.

  I shouldn’t care that they did this to her, and yeah, I know exactly who fucking did this. I shouldn’t want to go back there and rip them apart. I should leave and not ruin my chances of freedom.

  “Fuck!” I snarl, stalking back to bed and turning my back so I can’t see the evidence of betrayal on the little female, my teeth grinding when I close my eyes and still see it.

  She must have screamed and cried. I’m a full gown male, thirty-five years old, and I wouldn’t have withstood that torture for longer than it took to make the tenth lash.

  From the sight of her ass, she took all hundred, maybe more depending on her crime.

  “Fuck.”

  Don’t let it bother you. It’s done. She’s alive, and you
’ll return her to the pack in two weeks, I tell myself, trying to make myself calm down and push my wolf back so I can sleep.

  I don’t. The more I try, the angrier I become and the more I let myself see that things are going to hell. Running now would leave those bastards in charge, give them a free and clear to keep doing what they see fit because they have some idea in their head that the laws need to be purified and returned to all packs.

  When I first started on this path years ago, I truly believed that this was the only way to get people to stand up and listen. At first, I started reporting council business to my superiors via secure lines that left me out in the cold and proving myself.

  When that was accomplished, I got to arrange missions, stealing elite females who were against a mating they were being forced into and getting them out of here and to allied packs who would help them get lost and start new lives.

  I’ve relocated whole families, children from abusive homes, and males who were expected to carry out acts that no male should ever have to do. I did it all, slowly siphoning off information and proof to the secretive organization until I finally reached what most would understand to be an executive position.

  In my role I handled most agents working within the pack, though God knows I never ran into Beebee, who reports directly to another section. We’re on or were on completely opposite spheres in our roles in the resistance, and yet here we are, me running towards freedom while the stupid fucking female is running towards her doom.

  I shouldn’t care that she got herself into this, and I shouldn’t care about what will happen to her once the Alpha finds out what she’s done. But I do. I care, and Goddammit, I want to protect her, keep her, and wring her neck at the same time.

  Foolish female!

  Sighing, knowing that I won’t sleep without her being comfortable, I roll to my feet and go fetch the infuriating pest, smiling when she sniffs and curls against my chest, her face nestling into my neck.

  I’m only male, not a superhero, so the touch of her against me is making me harder than I already was, and I contemplate waking her for an early nookie session.

  The only thing that stops me is the exhaustion I see on her face when I lay her down on the bed and the clear knowledge that I would hurt her more if I touch her before she can shift and heal fully.

  God willing she can heal fully, or I’ll have to help her along, something I am not down with, not with the spate of blooding matings that have happened over the last year.

  Mated to Beebee Kendall. Not in this fucking lifetime!

  Sighing, I pull the blankets up around her, slide into bed, and fall asleep almost immediately, her scent and heat reaching out to me from her place beside me.

  # # # #

  Beebee

  I’m so warm and snuggly I don’t want to move. I want to lay here forever and enjoy the heat and comfort and not have to bother with getting up or doing anything.

  I deserve a little rest, just some, I think, as I give into the need to stretch and flop onto my back, letting my muscles pull tight and relieve some of the tension that’s had me in its grip for months.

  Aaah, sweet relief.

  Once I’m insensible with the pleasure you only get when relaxed and stretching, I roll over with a smile that falls right off my face when my eyes fall on smiling blue orbs filled with smugness.

  “Good morning, Beebee doll. Sleep well?” he purrs, making me snarl to resist the urge to snuggle closer.

  Oh God. I’m in bed beside Brig Seers, so close I feel his heat up the front of my body and smell that musky male scent that permeates his every pore.

  That scent I love and is now wrapped around my own skin.

  “What am I doing here?”

  “Why sleeping, of course. You looked so pitiful laying on that couch, so I took pity on you and let you share with me. May as well, since you’ll be in this bed for two whole weeks,” he purrs, licking his lips when my mouth pops open and then frowning.

  “Babe, seriously need to hit the toothbrush,” he whines, rolling away with a laugh when I gasp and shudder, getting a whiff of my rank breath and BO.

  “I haven’t exactly had a freaking full-facility stay in Wonderland, asshole! I can’t help it,” I mutter, blushing when I slip over the side of the bed and see the state of my toes.

  Oh God, is there anything more undignified than a female with ugly toenails? I wonder, standing gingerly when my ass protests and hobbling to a door I assume is the bathroom.

  I don’t think of anything when I get inside and lock the door but getting clean, feeling warm water and soap on my skin, washing the blood and dirt from my hair and scrubbing between my legs. Ten minutes later, keeping in mind the hot water situation, I leave the shower and wrap up in a towel that is not Ritz quality but will get me dried off just as well.

  I only see one toothbrush in the holder and not giving too much of a damn whether Brig likes it, I smooth on a healthy dollop of toothpaste and go to town on my furry teeth, moaning when my mouth starts feeling clean and fresh.

  That done, I take a minute to take stock of myself, and hell, I don’t like what I see. I’m covered in bruises incurred both during my confinement and then as a result of my mad dash for freedom. My ass is black and blue from my lower back to the backs of my thighs. My legs are riddled with scrapes and yellowing bruises, and my face looks like Tyson took a glove to it before trying to sink his teeth into my forearm where a scabbing bite mark still sits, infected and throbbing a bright angry red.

  My hands haven’t fared much better thanks to my digging activities that ultimately led to my escape and the nails are red and broken, some pulled away from the nail bed in places.

  In short, I look like someone fucked me up badly, and boy do I feel that way.

  “You out yet! I need to wash my own balls, doll.” I hear from the doorway, my lip curling at his continued use of those nicknames.

  Beebee and doll, two things he used to call me mockingly.

  “Keep your tampon dry! I’m coming out. I just need clothes,” I say, opening the door a crack to see Brig standing right in it, smiling brightly before he nudges it open and ignores my gasp.

  “Don’t need clothes, doll, since you’ll be shifting soon—and in my bed not long after,” he drawls, his ass bunching and catching my gaze before I can stop it.

  Holy Mary mother of the Christian God, the man has a nice ass, I think, swallowing when an image of biting that ass springs up in my head. Oh yeah, I like a good ass on a man. I like it a lot.

  “You still drooling, or can I stop flexing and get in the shower?” he asks, snapping me out of my trance.

  “Oh puhlease, I’ve seen better,” I scoff, stomping out with a slam of the door that does nothing to hide his laughter.

  Huffing, I make my way over to the bed where he’s got his bag and rifle inside without shame until I find a long thermal shirt and boxers. The shirt is white, practically a dress when I throw it on, and covers me nicely.

  Unfortunately, the boxers won’t stay on no matter how many times I roll them, and I abandon them with a snarl before using his brush to untangle my hair.

  That done, I go for the coffee pot he’s already started and sigh around my first sip while checking out the fridge for breakfast makings. Grabbing eggs, sausages, and tomatoes, I get to work putting something together and don’t bother to acknowledge him when he comes out of the steamy room.

  “Hhhmm, you look good in my shirt. Too bad I’ll have to rip it off you after breakfast.”

  “Leave me alone, wolf. I’ll take it off for the shift, but I’m keeping it for after. I am so not sleeping with your ugly, pompous ass,” I mutter, concentrating on the cooking while he goes to throw on a pair of tight sweats.

  Dear Jesus, why do you make me suffer this way? You know I like a good package in tight pants, I opine, my eyes stretching when he comes closer and all I see is cock.

  “Good because the sleeping parts over, Beebee doll. When you’re healed, I intend to
do anything but sleep,” he drawls, coming up behind me—so close I feel his breath on my neck and his junk sliding through my ass crack.

  Hell, don’t—oh great, there I go, getting turned on. My breasts, unrestrained by a bra go heavy and tight at the tips, while my clit gets all tingly and starts pulsing, making the empty sheath quiver and moisten.

  “I can smell you, Bee. You know what used to drive me crazy when we were in school? You’d wear those tiny little shorts during the summer and stare at me through lunch break, and I could smell you across the room. No one else seemed to but me. I knew exactly when you’d start thinking of me kissing you, touching you, and I would get so hard I had to leave and go swim in the lake to soften my cock,” he whispers against my neck, his tongue swiping out to lick over my pulse point.

  “Stop,” I say breathlessly, swallowing against the need to moan when he scrapes his teeth against my skin and sucks it into his mouth, flicking his tongue against me the way I dream of having him between my legs.

  Just thinking of that mouth pleasuring me there, tasting me while I writhe and wet his lips makes me shudder and bite down hard to control my moan.

  “You were way too young for me back then, but I never forgot, and when you came back, well, let’s just say it drove me crazy seeing you and not being able to have you. You know that first night in the bar when I walked up to you I was so turned on I almost came in my pants when I scented your sex.”

  I snort, shoving him away, his mention of that night rapidly cooling any arousal I might feel.

  “I also remember you offering to have a threesome with me and Jules, you know, so her pureblood can tone down some of my spice,” I sneer, slamming two plates down on the table before turning to look him up and down.