Greyriver Shifters

by Kristina Weaver

  I nod, watching Brig relax back into his seat and sigh, his hand coming out to take mine. That small contact releases my tension as well, and I sit back now that it’s all out in the open and I can breathe, knowing I’m not alone.

  Brig may not want to help, I get that, but at least Cyrus and Ry are here and I won’t have to go it alone anymore. I hope Brig wants to stay with me. I mean, I feel for the guy and I want him, but this is his choice, and I can’t force him to want me back.

  Clouding those murky waters is the fact that we’re not Fated, and I know he won’t mate me even if he stays.

  Oh hell, don’t think about that now. Try staying alive to have a broken heart later.

  “So we go get your daughter,” Brig says after a long pause, smirking when I jerk and look over at him, my eyes round as saucers.

  God, I hope he can’t see just how needy I feel right now.

  “You thought I was gonna let you go off into the unknown with these two? Give me a break, Bee. Besides, I still have a good relationship with the network and a few people owe me favors. I can call a few in and try to get us in without them seeing you,” he says, giving me pause.

  “I am not staying behind while you rush off to play hero.”

  “Bee—”

  “No. This is my problem to fix, not yours. I left my pack, betrayed their trust, and got this bullseye painted on my back, not you. I need to finish this Brig, even if things go bad. I need to do this. I can’t vindicate myself or expect mercy unless I earn it,” I tell him, smirking when he growls and grinds his jaw.

  “You can’t ever make things easy for me, can you? You do what I tell you to do at all times, Beebee,” he says, warning me and making me smile and nod, even if I don’t mean it.

  “Christ. It’ll take a while for me to get things in place. For now, we stay here.”

  I bite my lip, liking the sound of that and particularly liking the thought that I have some more time left with Brig. He’s helping me and saving me from myself right now, but later…

  There are no guarantees about later, and chances are I’ll still lose him after it’s all said and done. The difference between no help and Brig, is death, probably, but it’s also emotion because I just know…I know deep down in my heart that I am so into Brig, and the sad truth is that he’s not anywhere near what I feel.

  He’ll do this, risk his life for me, but Brigger Seers does not do emotional entanglements, and I need to remember that.

  Smiling, I listen to him talk to Cyrus for another hour or so and then join him to say goodbye when the males rise to leave.

  “You be safe now, Barbie, you hear? I don’t want to get a call and hear that you’re hurt or worse,” Cyrus says, hugging me tight before pushing me away and stepping out into the back.

  Ry comes next, getting a snarl from Brig before he throws me a wink and hightails it out of there. When they’re gone, leaving as swiftly and silently as they came, I turn to Brig and smile, needing him to make me feel better about what I just got him into.

  He doesn’t smile though. He lunges at me, and before I know what’s happening, I am pinned to the kitchen table. My sweats are gone, and Brig has his mouth on me, the molten heat making me cry out and groan when he latches onto my clit and sucks so hard I come instantly.

  “Brig!”

  “He touched you. Need to get his scent off you,” he says and groans, rearing up just before I’m about to orgasm and shoving at his pants.

  I want to slap him and demand he go back to licking me. I mean—

  “Oh! Oh God, oh God. So deep!” I scream, panting when he grabs my ankles to push my legs back, his eyes glowing when I scream again and come, hard, my sex gripping his shaft even as he pulls out and shuttles back in.

  The rhythm is punishing, untamed, and so vicious I’d be afraid but for the almost-gentle way he leans down to kiss me, his tongue swirling through my parted lips to lap at my own.

  Everything about this screams possession, anger, punishment, and yet I keep coming and wanting him, begging him, and clawing at his back when he shoves deep and seems to come to his senses, the wild look fading enough that I see him frown before he closes his eyes and goes into a full body shiver.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean…oh God, mischia. You feel so good. You’re always so ready for me.”

  “Because…oh Brig, please move!” I plead, my climax stopping, the tremors turning into a hard knot of tension in my sex.

  It’s a painful pleasure so deep I think I may lose my mind if he doesn’t do something to assuage the ache.

  “Wanted…don’t want to hurt you, baby. I feel…like I’m about to lose it,” he pants, his cock flexing inside me, the very pulse of his heart thrumming through my flesh.

  I feel his essence, that fluid that only a male shifter can make, streaming into me in a continuous flow. It heats my core, like a strong aphrodisiac that he’s pushing into me, making me tremble and go higher…want more.

  In this state, it’s almost as if I’m in heat, and yet I’m not. All I know is that if he doesn’t move and sate this need, I will lose it.

  “Move. God, move. I need you to move. Please.”

  “He touched you. You let him touch you!” Brig yells, making me flinch and moan, my mind telling me to soothe him even as my body tries to move and take the pleasure it needs.

  My legs are still pinned down, my thighs stuck to my belly and chest, my sex so spread I feel Brig’s scrotum touch my ass. That’s how deep and close he is, and yet still, he doesn’t move, that very stillness making me want to thrash and scream and demand.

  “Briiig! Please.”

  “You let him touch you, Beebee. He wanted you. I could see it, smell it, and yet you let him touch you. You’re mine. Mine! No one else touches you,” he grates, pushing against me to emphasize his claim.

  “Yours. Okay, oh, I’m yours. Now move!” I scream, the sound turning into a shriek when Brig pulls back and slams back into me, the scrape of his flesh against my inner walls setting me off again.

  It’s so good, so good, so—

  “Brig!”

  This time I scream with a little fear when I come, one orgasm building on another and another until I’m sure I’ll die from the bliss. Brig snarls, his wolf liking the submission, and I feel him push deep one last time before his seed shoots forth and fills me.

  The last thing I hear before I pass out is his satisfied grumble and a word I wish he meant.

  “Mine.”

  Chapter Ten

  Brig

  I feel my phone vibrate, the alarm I set to warn of intrusion making me fly up out of bed and pull on clothes before tossing clothes at Beebee and snarling at her to get dressed.

  It takes me seconds to grab the packs I’ve prepared, and even less time to rip the carpet free of the floor near the mantle and lift the steel trapdoor I put in myself.

  “Move!”

  Beebee grunts, almost falling over her feet a she comes my way still pulling her sweats up, her hair falling over her face when I grab her hand and all but toss her through the door where she falls with a curse and muffled moan.

  I don’t have that much time here, mere minutes if my suspicions are right, so I throw the packs down, wincing at Beebee’s bark of pain and set about rigging the traps I’ve been installing for the last two days.

  Walking around in the dark, I use my vision to set the gas in the stove, leaving the pilot light out of the equation because I have a better ignition point in mind and waiting for whoever comes across that fence line.

  The bathroom is next, and I grin when I push the tab on the bug bomb, holding my breath as I activate it and toss it inside the small room, slamming the door fast before the stuff can clog my nose.

  “Brig!” Beebee whispers, her head poking out of the doorway in the floor, the messy bun she must have tied her hair in while I worked making her look like a meerkat when she turns her head to follow my actions.

  “Stay down! I’m almost done. You got socks on?”


  “Yep. Hurry Brig, I can hear them.”

  I can too, and the smile that plays around my mouth is all malicious intent when I move over to the hearth and set up my last and final trap, chuckling when Bee’s eyes go wide before she smiles and gives me an adoring look.

  “God, you’re hot when you’re murderous.”

  “I’m always hot, female, just hotter when I plan to kill a whole lot of people. Move down,” I tell her, pushing myself into the space and grunting when I grab the door, the weight pulling at my shoulder when I heft it closed in a way that will bring the carpet back with it as cover.

  It’s pitch black down here, the blackness making me shiver when memories assail me of being in a basement, no light, no food, no hope as I tried to shift and let my wolf heal me.

  I don’t know why I let myself think of my childhood, the abuses my father handed out to us all, his favorite punishment being days spent in the airless, dark basement with the pain multiplying inside me as the days wore on and I got too weak to shift and heal.

  All I can think is that I feel that trapped right now, and I don’t like it one bit.

  “Brig?” Bee whispers, her voice a muffled rasp of fear and trust, a trust I like knowing she has in me.

  “Sssh, baby. Listen,” I tell her, taking her hand and looking up just as the first yell pierces the air.

  Bug bomb.

  Beebee giggles, the sound filled with evil glee, and I take her hand and pull her along with me, knowing that we need to move and put distance between us and these idiots or we’re likely to get caught. My plans aren’t foolproof; they can’t be…against a pack of demented, scentless maniacs, who are intent on killing Bee, but they’re enough that I think we can get a good head starts and maybe make it as far as Whitefish before they know where we’re headed.

  Ignoring the sounds that echo from the upper floor, I make my way to the wall, pull back a shelf that I know is clichéd but all I had to work with when I first bought the place and made changes, I push her in and close it, securing the lock as a last defense.

  Once we’re in the tunnel, I push fast and hard, forcing her to keep up with my long strides even when I know I should slow down. The next few days are going to be a test of endurance, and I need her to be strong enough to perform.

  Babying her now will only get her killed, something I swore to myself I won’t allow to happen. When we reach the end of the tunnel, I push at another wall, this one much thicker than the last, grunting when my muscles strain and burn inside my skin.

  Beebee tries to help, but I push her away, my impatience overriding my chivalry right now. I don’t have time for her feminist bullshit; it slows us down, and I tell her so, getting a glare for my troubles.

  “Don’t slow down. Don’t shift. Just keep up, and for God’s sake, don’t try to be a hero here. Follow me, obey orders, and don’t dare argue!” I tell her, setting off at a run with the two packs weighing me down.

  I’m still faster though, my longer legs eating up the distance as Bee pushes forward, giving it her all. When we get to a ravine, a steep drop that ends in a cold, still liquid water source I turn to look at her and nod downward.

  “Jump.”

  Her eyes go wide, blinking down and then back up at me, her fear clear when she swallows and shakes her head.

  “Brig I can’t—”

  I should feel like an ass when I reach out and shove her, wincing when she screams and hits the water, the sound of her gasping breath cut off when she goes under.

  I don’t.

  I jump in seconds later, crossing my arms to my chest and keeping my legs straight as I lean back, hitting the water at an angle to get a clean slice into the icy depths.

  When I come up, Beebee is sputtering, splashing around and looking like she’s about to drown herself without help from the water. Fucking female.

  Reaching out, I grab the back of her fleece and pull, grunting when she latches onto me and tries to climb me, dunking me back under before I can pull us both over to a rocky wall.

  “Stop it.”

  “C-c-c-can’t swim,” she whines, her chattering teeth clacking loudly while she clings to me and blinks, her blue eyes so big it would be comical if I wasn’t swallowing water every time her weight dunks me back down.

  “Goddammit. Fuck. Here. Get on my back. Not so tight, Bee; you’re chocking me.”

  She whines again, my angry snarl making her cease her struggles immediately and release some of the hold she has around my neck. At this rate, I may as well have stayed in the cabin and got us both killed because it seems Beebee is going to do that all on her own.

  “S-s-sorry.”

  “Shut up and hold on. Can’t believe I got stuck with a cat,” I mutter, using my grip on the rock to keep the water from pushing us through the ravine too fast.

  The water is not cold, it’s fucking frigid, turning my skin numb in seconds and sending pain to every nerve I possess. My wolf whines, not liking the lack of control, and I snarl at him to shut up before I lose my shit.

  Shifters don’t—as a rule—enjoy water. It’s the one place where we’re weak and have to rely on our human sides completely, putting us at a disadvantage.

  It is—however—the only option I have at my disposal right now because I mapped this waterway days ago and know that it’s the only way for us to get enough distance without leaving a scent trail.

  I’m shivering so hard now it hurts to breathe and my fingers feel like points of dead flesh every time I grab onto another piece of rock, but I persevere, keeping our weight as centered as I can while the water current batters us and tries to rip me away from my hand hold.

  “Oh God.”

  “Hang on, Bee. Just a few more miles and I’ll get you out of here and into dry clothes.”

  “Miles? Oh God, no. I can’t,” she gasps, pushing her chin down to stop her chattering jaw when she can’t grind it hard enough.

  Christ, I feel the same way. My legs are aching, the water having long since penetrated to the muscle where the blood is no longer flowing. I’m so cold I feel as if I’m going to lose all movement.

  If I were human, I’d be dead already. I’ve watched enough survival shows to know that no human can stand these temperatures for this long. Never mind the amount of time I have to force myself and Bee to endure the cold.

  I have to though. If I stay in long enough, this ravine will open into a thin waterway that will take us down towards the border, where hopefully we can cut into the Flathead area and maybe steal a car.

  I don’t know how we’re going to do this without arousing notice yet, but it’s all the plan I have at the moment, seeing as I don’t have the option of shifting and going back to Greyriver.

  Not with Beebee.

  “S-ss-so c-c-ccold.”

  “I know, baby. Shh, it’s going to be okay. Your wolf will keep your blood flowing long enough for us to make some distance. Just hold onto me and keep talking okay,” I soothe, hating that she’s in pain at all.

  If I could have done this differently, you better believe I wouldn’t have my female suffering agony right now, but I’ll take life over comfort at this point, and right now, life is all the option we have.

  Beebee starts talking, her teeth knocking together with every word she manages to get out, and I listen, forcing myself to laugh when she makes scathing comments about people who like water for anything but getting clean.

  I’m a swimmer usually, preferring the lake as a form of exercise rather than using the gym and the enforcers’ building to stay in peak condition. I don’t usually swim in this shit though, not in the middle of winter when my balls feel like they’re trying to crawl into my ass for heat.

  “So…I t-t-told M-m-m-m-mika, I don’t l-like r-r-r-raisins and she…went nuts.”

  I don’t understand a word she’s saying, but I keep my ear peeled to ensure that she’s not falling asleep on me. She may be a shifter and much better equipped for this, but Beebee is almost two hundred pounds li
ghter and in danger of hypothermia no matter what I do.

  Dashing, I try to push harder, moving faster when the chatter starts slurring and finally stops altogether, my hand shooting up to grab her arm before she goes slack and starts drifting on the current.

  I grind my jaw, pulling Beebee closer to my chest, swallowing loudly when I see her face and take in her closed eyes and deathly pallor.

  “Just a few more minutes, baby. Just a few minutes, and I’ll take care of you.”

  It takes me eight minutes to get to my marked off point and haul us both out of the water, the weight of the wet pack and Beebee’s unconscious body almost sending me to my knees.

  Gasping, I push back up to my feet, snarling past the pain, and start jogging slowly, pumping blood back into my limbs with every step. I run for two miles, the distance feeling like a hundred to my wolf, and I come upon a small cave in the side of a hill.

  Placing Beebee on the ground along with the packs, I rub warmth back into my numb fingers and stumble inside, eyeing the darkness with a muffled curse.

  There’s a bear in here with us, something I wouldn’t usually be bothered about but to say that the fucker perks its head up sleepily and releases a growl.

  Yeah buddy, I get your meaning, but right now I am not as fussy about it as I would be.

  I growl back, letting my wolf rumble a warning into the sound and feel a slight sense of ease when the bear chuffs and settles down again, his huge head resting on his paws as he goes back to sleep.

  Next, I clear out a space for Beebee, going back for the pack to grab the sleeping bag. Once that’s rolled out, I grab some kindling from the bag where I stored it after drying it yesterday, thanking God for the wood and kindling, even if it was a bitch to carry.

  The fire is small, nowhere near the blaze I need it to be to actually warm us, but it can’t go bigger. As it is the bear scent will throw off anyone who comes this way, but any bigger and they’ll smell the smoke first.

  Fuck. I’m so cold and stiff with it that I hurt when I lift Beebee and carry her inside, my mind panicking when I undress her and notice the lack of gooseflesh on her skin.