Braxton's Warrior

by Lynn Howard

  Braxton’s Warrior

  Reading Order

  Big River Pack:

  Gray’s Wolf

  Micah’s Match

  Emory’s Mate

  Reed’s Girl

  Tristan’s Voice

  Blackwater Bears:

  Colton’s Kitty

  Noah’s Fire

  Carter’s Devotion

  Luke’s Redemption

  Braxton’s Warrior

  By Lynn Howard

  @2019

  Published by Twisted Heart Press, LLC

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Your non-refundable purchase allows you to one legal copy of this work for your own personal use. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload, or for a fee.

  Disclaimer: This book may contain explicit sexual content, graphic, adult language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable. This e-book is for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Lynn Howard will not be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in any of its titles.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, businesses, and incidents are from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual places, people, or events is purely coincidental. Any trademarks mentioned herein are not authorized by the trademark owners and do not in any way mean the work is sponsored by or associated with the trademark owners. Any trademarks used are specifically in a descriptive capacity.

  Chapter One

  Brax crept through the trees with his brother, Daxon, close behind. Aron, the Alpha of the Ravenwood Pride, was a few yards ahead, periodically holding his hand up with varying commands. Mason was back at the road, his car running as he waited for the rest of the Pride to return. Hopefully, with a rescued victim in tow.

  They’d arrived back in their hometown of Cedar Hill, Missouri not even three months before. Yet here they were, right back to tracking down assholes snatching women from the streets for their own disgusting reasons.

  This time, their efforts had taken them closer to St. Louis County, in a little big town called Fenton.

  It was becoming harder and harder to track the assholes stealing women. The traffickers had started with Shifter women. Then they’d found a few Fae, including the woman who became mate to one of their buddies, Noah from the Blackwater Clan.

  Now, they were snatching anyone they thought might earn them some money.

  The laws had changed. Female Shifters were no longer forced to mate with males against their wishes. They could no longer be sold or forced into various Clans, Packs, or Prides. That didn’t stop these mother fuckers from taking human women, turning them – something not all women survived – and selling them off to the groups of Shifters not willing to go along with the new laws.

  These rogue groups of Shifters were essentially forming their own cults, their own polygamist groups, similar to those that had been broken up by human law enforcement over the past twenty years. They were forcing multiple women to pair up and mate with one male.

  The Ravenwood Pride had spent the past couple of years tracking as many of them as they could and ending their threat while trying to rescue as many women as possible.

  There were only the three panthers from Ravenwood currently following the scent trail of a possible wolf and a human woman. Unless the wolf Shifter had buddies somewhere downwind, this mission should be easy and a success.

  They needed that. Bad.

  The past couple of weeks had sucked donkey balls and Aron was getting annoying with his sulking.

  Brax knew they should ask for help, let their friends from Big River Pack or even Blackwater Clan know what was going on. But the panthers feared for the safety of the females and their pups. So, they did this alone, slinking off almost every night on rescue missions.

  Glancing over his shoulder, Brax checked on Daxon’s location. Brax’s head whipped around at the sound of twigs cracking a mere ten feet from him. The human’s scent was strong, stronger than it had been moments ago.

  Was she running toward them? Or maybe she was cowering in the bushes, waiting for all the men to pass so she could run for help.

  Bending his knees, he crouched low and inhaled deep, trying to pinpoint exactly where she was. And was shocked to shit when he was knocked to the ground with a solid kick to his forehead.

  “What the fuck?” Brax muttered as he stared up at the dark figure standing over him. The human. The woman. She’d actually kicked him in the fucking head.

  “Brax?” Daxon’s deep voice rumbled from behind him.

  “Found her,” Brax called back.

  When Brax tried to sit up, the woman bent forward, balled her fist, and punched him square in the nose. A crunch preceded the rush of blood that poured from his face. Holy shit.

  “Hey!” Daxon bellowed the second he spotted the woman standing over Brax.

  “It’s the woman,” Brax warned, wincing as bones tried to slide back into place.

  She stepped back when Daxon moved closer, giving Brax the opportunity to climb to his feet. But she didn’t turn and run away. Didn’t cower from the two males. Each of the brothers was at least six or so inches taller than the woman, yet she didn’t seem afraid. In fact, as the tears from his broken nose cleared, he finally got a good look at her.

  She was hot!

  Dark hair pulled into a high ponytail, dark eyes, tanned skin. Although it looked like her darker skin was from heritage rather than the sun. Her boobs were on the smaller side, but they fit her body perfectly. For some reason, the woman reminded him of the chick who played Wonder Woman, the one from two thousand sixteen, not the eighties show.

  And this woman had hate and fire in her eyes as she squared off and prepared to take on both Brax and his brother.

  “We’re not going to hurt you,” Daxon said, holding his hands out in front of him.

  Her fists lowered as her eyes bounced between the two men. And the second Daxon got close enough, that fire returned to her eyes and she slammed her fist into Daxon’s face.

  “Yeah. Probably should’ve warned you. She’s got a mean jab,” Brax said, taking a little too much pleasure in the fact his brother was getting beaten up by a woman.

  Shit. He shouldn’t laugh; he’d already gotten his ass handed to him by a woman who barely stood at five foot nine. Not that she was petite or anything, but she was small compared to the panthers.

  Daxon held a hand to his face and stared wide-eyed. “Who the hell are you? Are you with those fuckers?” he accused.

  Daxon must’ve been hurting; Brax had never heard him cuss in front of a woman before. At least he’d never heard him drop the F bomb.

  Her head snapped back and her pouty lips popped open. And yeah, Brax had definitely noticed her pouty lips. He couldn’t stop staring at her.

  “You really trying to pretend you’re …” She tensed back up, taking a fighting stance as if ready for either of them to lunge at her. “You’re a terrible actor.”

  Her voice held a slight rasp and was sexy as fuck. He could listen to her talk all damn night.

  Unfortunately, she had other plans.

  Her hand dropped to her back. She whipped it around and pointed a gun
directly at Daxon’s head. Brax could never hurt a woman. He’d rather cut off his own fucking hands than lay one on a female. But he couldn’t let his brother die, either.

  Bolting forward, he disarmed the woman as quickly and gently as he could. She recovered quickly and swung at him again. He blocked her and grunted when she followed up with an elbow to his ribs. This woman could fight. She was definitely human, though. Or could she possibly have some Fae blood? That would explain her strength.

  Blow after blow, Brax continued to block her. He could see Aron creeping up behind the woman, but he couldn’t let his Alpha touch her. She’d lose her shit if anyone touched her. She could pretend she was pissed all she wanted, but Brax could smell the bitter tang of fear rolling from her.

  “No,” Brax said, the only thing he could say to keep Aron back.

  Miraculously, it stopped the woman’s assault, as well.

  Chest heaving, nostrils flaring, she watched Brax closely, her attention bouncing from him to Daxon and back. “No what?” she said, taking a step back.

  Shit. Aron was still closing in, his eyes glued to the woman’s back.

  Brax learned something that night; humans have stronger senses than he had realized.

  The second Aron was in touching distance, the woman spun and round house kicked Aron hard enough to make him stumble and fall onto his ass. Then she turned and raced off into the woods.

  And Brax was left standing there watching with a wide grin on his face.

  “What the fuck was that?” Daxon asked.

  “Who the fuck was that?” Aron asked as he climbed to his feet.

  “I don’t know. But that was fucking hot,” Brax said, rubbing the throbbing bump on his forehead.

  “She kicked our asses,” Daxon said.

  “Not like we could’ve fought back,” Brax said, still staring at the spot where the mystery woman had disappeared.

  A strange sensation rushed his system. It was more than the deeply ingrained need to protect women, to put them on the pedestals where they belonged. It was more like an obsessive need to find the woman, to learn her name, to wrap her in fucking bubble wrap and block the rest of the world from touching her.

  “We should follow her,” Brax said, already moving in her direction without bothering to wait for an answer from the rest of his Pride.

  “Brax!” Daxon yelled after him, but within seconds, the sounds of two sets of feet crunching on the dead leaves met his ears.

  It didn’t take Brax long to pick up her scent; after getting knocked around by someone so hot, he had a feeling it would be a long damn time before he forgot about her.

  Her name. He wanted to know her name. He wanted to hear her voice again. Which, of course, didn’t make sense. The only time he’d ever learned the victims’ names was when they knew exactly who they were looking for. Generally, though, they hunted down the assholes taking them and prayed they got to the women before they were shipped off to unknown locations.

  But this woman? Come on. Not only had she surprised the shit out of Brax and broken his nose, she’d gotten the best of three panther Shifters. That alone deserved a trophy. Like a beer. Or wine. Or a hot, sweaty night with Brax.

  That last thought caused Brax to trip over his own damn feet. Righting himself before he face-planted in the middle of the forest, he glanced briefly over his shoulder to make sure Daxon and Aron were still following and to see if either of them had seen his stumble.

  They had.

  Daxon was smirking at him, like he knew something was up other than wanting to keep this stranger safe.

  By the time they caught up with the dark-haired woman, she’d tugged a helmet over her head and thrown a long leg over a sleek sports bike. One of those fast as fuck bikes. One that none of them could catch, even if they Shifted, even if they alerted Mason to her presence and subsequent escape.

  But why would they chase after her? Their job was to make sure she was safe. If she was taking off on the motorcycle, she was safe. Brax didn’t scent anyone else near her, so she was scott-free.

  Soooo…why did he still have the urge to chase after her?

  Daxon and Aron were sucking air as hard as he was as they stood on either side of Brax and watched the sexy ass ninja chick navigate her death machine down the bumpy, tree filled hill. She wasn’t even following a trail. He should follow her. In case she wrecked. Then he’d be there to take care of her wounds and kiss all her boo boos.

  Brax started down the hill, but Aron called him back.

  “Let her go. She’s safe now,” Aron said, his hands on his hips as he frowned in the direction the woman had gone.

  “What if she wrecks?” Brax reasoned.

  “Then we’ll help her. For now, we accomplished what we wanted. We kept her out of the hands of the rogues.”

  “I don’t think she was ever at risk,” Daxon said.

  Aron and Brax both turned to him with brows lowered.

  “How do you figure? She was obviously tense as fuck.”

  “Yeah. Because three strange dudes appeared out of the woods. She wasn’t running from anyone. It kind of looked like she was hunting someone,” Daxon said.

  Made sense to Brax. She sure as hell didn’t come across as some damsel in distress. That was for sure.

  Aron rubbed his jaw. “Hunting other women?” he asked, his eyes narrowing in the direction of where they’d come.

  “Doubt it. Unless she’s doing the same thing we are,” Daxon said as they turned and headed toward where Mason waited in the car.

  “A human hunting rogue Shifters? No way,” Aron said, raising his hand to the spot where the woman had kicked him.

  “Why not? Shifters aren’t the only ones snatching women and selling them. She might think she was chasing after some kidnapping sicko or even a sex trafficker,” Daxon argued. “And she was one tough cookie. Did you see how fast she aimed that gun at my head?”

  Of course Brax had seen it. If they’d been humans, he might not have been able to get the gun away before she’d pulled the trigger. And then Brax would be without his twin.

  Daxon might be his twin, but the only thing Brax and Daxon had in common were their height, eye color, and animal residing inside of them. They both had brown hair, but Daxon’s was a bit darker than Brax’s. They were both also covered in tattoos, but that kind of shit isn’t inherited. Unless being gluttons for pain was genetic.

  “Brax. Let’s go,” Aron said when Brax continued to check down the hill, his ears tuned to any sounds the woman was in danger.

  “Coming,” he called back with a sigh.

  Well, shit. Now he’d be obsessed with this chick. At least until he found something or someone to occupy his thoughts. Being as he’d been single and celibate for close to a damn year, there was a slim chance of that happening. Especially since all four panthers spent most of their time chasing after rogues and trying to stop the sale of women.

  Mason was leaned against the side of the car when Aron, Daxon, and Brax stepped out of the trees and traversed through the shallow ditch.

  “What the fuck happened to you guys?” Mason asked, pushing from the car and going on instant alert. His eyes scanned the forest, searching for a threat.

  “Don’t ask,” Aron said.

  “We got our asses kicked by a woman,” Brax said with a shake of his head.

  “I told him don’t ask. So you offer the information, anyway? You realize –”

  Aron didn’t get anything else out of his mouth before Mason busted into loud guffaws, pointing his finger at each of the men.

  “Bull shit. A woman did that to you? Who was she?”

  “Some human,” Aron said.

  Mason’s laughs got louder until he was wheezing for breath. “A human did that to you? Why the hell do I always miss all the fun?”

  “Yeah. You would’ve gotten your ass kicked, too. Wasn’t all that fun,” Daxon said.

  “Speak for yourself. She was hot,” Brax said as he climbed into the backseat.r />
  “She was hot. But she was dangerous. Something was off with her. Why the hell was she out here to begin with?” Aron said.

  The next twenty minutes of their ride back to the single wide trailer where they’d been staying since arriving back in St. Louis was quiet. Each man was lost in their thoughts, and Brax didn’t have to ask to know they all revolved around the sexy Ninja.

  Of course, he was ninety-nine percent sure their thoughts were a hell of a lot cleaner than his was. He was sure they weren’t dwelling on her small, perky tits, how thin yet strong her arms and legs appeared.

  Lithe. That was the best word to describe her.

  Nah. Hot was the best word. Lithe was the second best.

  By the time Mason pulled the car up to their rundown, temporary home, Brax’s nose was mostly healed. His pride, however, would take a while longer.

  “I get the shower first,” Brax yelled, shoving past his brother and sprinting up the stairs and through the house. They didn’t even bother locking the place up. The only things they kept in there were spare clothes. All their weapons were always on them, not that they carried many to begin with. The panthers preferred their teeth and claws over any human made weapon. But sometimes, it was nice to have a little back up fire power.

  Brax stripped as he ran through the house, letting his shirt drop in the hallway before closing the bathroom door. He shoved his jeans to his ankles, just in case Daxon decided to try to shove his way in even though Brax had called dibs first. Let his twin get an eyeful of Brax’s ass and he’d leave quick as hell.

  Pulling the elastic from his long hair – maybe it was time to cut this shit off – he ran a brush through it to get out the knots before washing it. Shame he hadn’t been closer to the woman; he’d have forgone the shower so he could roll around in her scent all night.

  Her scent was unique, but definitely human. Even if she did have Fae blood, it was a small enough amount that Brax couldn’t detect it on her. No. Her scent was citrusy and clean. She used some kind of flowery soap or shampoo, but it did nothing to cover her natural smell.