Southern Shifters: Shiftin' Sassy: Derria Pryde (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Pryde Ranch Shifters Book 4)

by T. J. Michaels

  “And?” she asked. Based on the “what’s your point” tone, he obviously wasn’t making his case very well.

  “Gloriously stubborn ass woman,” he grumbled under his breath.

  “I heard that,” she snapped. Damn shifter hearing.

  But he wasn’t budging on this, not one single inch. Just the thought of having the Derria-sized spot in his soul suddenly become empty sent a rush of panic through him. No way in hell was it going to happen.

  “No fucking way am I going to let you just walk—”

  He should have just stopped talking when her mouth fell open in shock, but he cared too much for this beautiful scrappy female to let this go. He had to make her see how dangerous this was.

  “Let me? Let me? Who the hell do you think you are, and what illness do you have that’s given you delusions that I need your fucking permission to do my job?!”

  “God damn it, Derria, I mean it!”

  “Fuck. You. I had a life before you, Lakota Phillips. I was kicking ass before you, and I’ll be kicking ass and taking names after you.”

  “After me?” he bellowed. “There will be no after me, Derria Sozi.”

  “Pryde, you numbskull.”

  “Pryde? Your last name is Pryde?” He wasn’t sure why that name rang a bell, but he instinctively knew to keep his questions to himself just now. This was his mate. And over his dead body was she going anywhere far enough where he couldn’t ask her about this name thing later. Besides, they were in the middle of a fight, damn it. And it was one he intended to win. “I said there will be no ‘after me’ bullshit.”

  “Oh yeah?” She stepped right up to him, put the tips of her steel-toed boots up against bare toes and slammed her fists onto her hips. “Try to control me, mate or not, and I will drop your ass like a bad cold.”

  His cat panicked at her words. Would she leave him? Could he lose his mate, whether she went into this fight or not? The energy of the change charged forward. It took all his considerable skill and strength to control it and keep the shift at bay.

  “And don’t you dare do that glowy-eyed thing at me either,” she snapped as he struggled to maintain the slim hold on his inner-jaguar.

  She sniffed, turned and began to walk away.

  He had to make her face him. Had to make her see.

  Lakota’s hand landed on her shoulder.

  The only warning he got was a flash of energy that sent the hairs on his arms scrambling. And then Lakota was flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him and the three-inch canines of a snarling majestic lioness mere inches from his nose.

  Holy hell, she was big. And beautiful. At least a good three hundred pounds—or at least that’s what she felt like—she braced her front paws squarely on his chest. He almost chuckled at the remnants of the tee-shirt that hung around her neck in tatters, like a not-quite-thought-out piece of Christmas garland.

  Forcing himself to slowly suck air back into his lungs while laying completely still, he opened his mouth to speak.

  She roared in his face.

  Ears ringing, and sure she’d been heard at least a good five miles away, he decided to change his tactics.

  Doesn’t she understand that both man and beast are concerned for her well-being?

  She roared again.

  Well, obviously not.

  * * * * *

  But Derria did know. She did realize. As soon as the threat to leave him had left her mouth, the lioness within cringed and then clawed to get out, reaching for its mate. She understood ‘Kota’s struggle because she was having the same trouble. But regardless of the pain it would cause her to pull up stakes and high tail it back to Wyoming without him, she would do exactly what she’d said. Heart in her hand and her soul bleeding out, she’d walk just the same.

  “Derria?”

  Slowly raising one hand, he eased it towards her flanks and gently stroked her fur. Suddenly everything he couldn’t quite articulate rushed like flood waters down their newly forming bond. It was such a bombardment of care and fear it caused her to suck in breath after breath. Then came understanding of how deeply he believed in her—in her ability to take care of herself and handle her business. Then, there was love. True, deep, abiding love.

  For her.

  One moment they were in a heated argument, and the next she felt everything he couldn’t quite say. Her cousins had told her about the bond that formed between mates. They’d said it usually took some time to solidify, but theirs had all seemed to pop into place. And so, it seemed, had Derria’s and Lakota’s.

  Fur and fangs receded as the change rolled over and through her. And then Derria was back in her human form as fast as she’d shifted out of it. Tremors wracked her body, but not because she now lay on top of ‘Kota as naked as the day she was born.

  “Oh my god, ‘Kota. I didn’t know. I didn’t realize how you felt.” The words came out in a rush even as his emotions continued to swallow her whole. Sprawled across his equally naked chest—a chest that sported ten claw-sized cuts across perfectly formed pectorals—she didn’t hold back the tears that fell in fat drops and splashed on his skin.

  Keeping her gaze glued to his, she asked the one question that truly burned in her soul.

  “Can you feel me, too, ‘Kota?”

  “Yes, baby, I can feel you. I’m not typically the sappy type, but damn, it’s beautiful what we feel for each other. I…” He swallowed hard, took a moment to pull it together. “I don’t quite understand what the hell just happened. It came out of nowhere and…”

  And then he rolled, taking her to her back.

  The moment her thighs parted in invitation, his thick cock plunged deep into her weeping pussy as he covered her mouth with his. They expressed, without words, what they meant to one another, what they needed, and what they were willing to give.

  He took her fast, hard. Rough, but she sensed it wasn’t quite enough.

  “Dare, I’m aching.”

  She opened her eyes and looked into his glittering gaze. “What do you need, baby?”

  “My fangs…”

  Her eyes went wide at the partial shift of his teeth and gums, thankful he was both skilled and strong enough to keep the rest of his body from succumbing to his beast.

  After a few deep breaths, his canines remained extended.

  Finally he said, “I need to mark you, bite you. Fuck, my fangs ache, I need it so bad.”

  She pushed gently against his chest until he eased back and pulled free of her body. On her knees, ass up and head down, she opened for him. Welcomed him. Offered herself to him. A low growl sounded deep in his throat as he slid back home and began to fuck her in earnest.

  “Oh my god,” Derria moaned. “Oh yes, ‘Kota. Fuck me.”

  And he did, in earnest. Her thick waves and natural curls were now slick with sweat, and bounced back and forth with each stroke of his stone-hard length. The sound of his flesh slapping against hers, combined with the scent of their sex and the wicked sensation of his cock stretching her, all combined to send Derria out of her mind.

  “’Kota! Oh please, please,” she begged, needing to come so badly she could taste it on her tongue.

  One hand on her hip, the other tapping at her clit, an orgasm flew out of left field and blew her apart. It left behind a smoldering need for a repeat of that particular performance. And it was on its way, beginning clear from the top of her scalp.

  Fingers buried in her hair, Lakota pulled her upwards until she was on her hands and knees. Marking wasn’t necessary, according her family, but Derria was all in. She would hold nothing back from this man, and offered her whole heart, in addition to something that she knew he needed. “Mark me, ‘Kota. Make me yours.”

  Her lioness was so very close to the surface, yet seemed content to hang right there on the edge of ecstasy until…

  BOOM!

  The moment his canines pierced the thick muscle where neck met shoulder, Derria detonated, followed closely by Lakota. Vision blurred, sk
in heated and sex dripped.

  And a little part of herself that had always been uniquely hers began to fill with her mate—a winded happy mate, who rolled off of her and then pulled her into his arms.

  Panting in cadence with ‘Kota’s winded breaths, Derria poked him in the ribs. “You’re sweaty.”

  He S.W.A.T.ted her butt and said, “So are you. I think I like it.”

  She chuckled, glad that the tension of earlier had not only dissipated, but it was as if it had never been.

  “Hold on a sec.” He got up and moved quickly to the small bathroom between the living area and the kitchen. A few moments later he returned with a blessedly wet and warm towel.

  “Lay back for me?” She did and he cleaned her up as gently as if she’d been the one handling the task. Back on the carpet, he lay next to her. The silence was comfortable, pleasant.

  “You know, I’ve never really thought on this much in my life. Just always saw it as the way things are, you know?”

  “What are you talking about, Dare?” Lakota asked on a loud, totally manner-less, post-sex, man yawn. She bit back a smile.

  “I’m glad that in this moment, I’m not a human. When I was little, I used to want to be one of them. Wanted to fit in, and not have to hide my true nature while walking among them. When I got older, I stopped caring and chalked up the fact that I am a shifter to Mother Nature doing whatever the hell she wanted.”

  “Why are you glad?”

  “Because if we were human, we’d be wondering if we’d lost our minds by deciding to do what chalks up to marriage in their world. We’d be wondering how we could love this fast, and whether we’d made a mistake,” she said.

  “True, but shifters go through that as well, don’t you think?”

  “Sure we have the choice to mate someone other than our true mates. We have the choice to skip waiting for them to appear. But it doesn’t change the fact that we know when we’ve met him or her. I think that it’s a blessing to have our beasts looking out for us. We know our true mate once we’ve come across them. Without a doubt, we know. ”

  “True. So you accept me, completely?” he asked, pushing up on one elbow so he could meet her gaze as she reclined.

  She reached up and touched his cheek, his jaw, traced his bottom lip until he nipped her finger. She grinned. “Yes, Lakota Phillips, I accept you.”

  “Good,” he said getting up off the floor and reaching down a hand to help her up. “Now, about our earlier conversation.”

  “Aw man, do we have to do this now?” she grumbled.

  “I have no right to tell you how to do your job, but woman, you are my mate and I can’t turn off my protectiveness of you any more than you can turn off being who you are.”

  “Then I guess we’ll just have to figure this out. But it won’t be today, Lakota.”

  “Fine. Go do your thing. Just promise to call me if you need me.”

  “I promise. Now go shower. You smell like me.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?” He nipped her nose, S.W.A.T.ted her on the butt, and then ran up the steps two at a time.

  With the memory of Lakota’s perfect butt imprinted in her brain, she grinned, snatched up her gear bag and pulled out a change of clothes. Derria was dressed and out the door the moment she heard the water turn on upstairs. After she secured her duffel in the saddlebags and put her helmet on, she stilled.

  Lakota.

  He was just out of reach, then suddenly rushed into the forefront of her mind and there was no mistaking the moment her man had blown her a kiss from afar.

  With a smile, she climbed on her bike and pressed the ignition button. With her intuition screaming some serious warnings, Derria headed towards whatever destiny held for her.

  Dear God, please let it be something good.

  Her thoughts drifted back to the wonderful man she’d shared her time, her bed and would spend her life with.

  Okay, that was pretty good. Let it be even better, okay?

  Chapter Six

  Kerr knelt in the shower in a mixed state of confusion, relief and blinding anger. Why wasn’t he physically back to one hundred percent lethality? It wasn’t as if he hadn’t taken a bullet before, but since being shot by beauty bitch, sluggish had become his middle name. He took in a deep breath and tried to relax as the soothing mist of the shower chased off the morning chill, but did nothing to reduce his fury. One thing had become quite clear by the near-misses he’d had over the last few days— someone was setting him up.

  “Who would benefit from having you out of the way,” he wondered aloud. An old enemy? No, that couldn’t be it—to his knowledge, he hadn’t left any of them alive.

  Someone filled with blind ambition?

  Maybe. Though exiled for their anti-council sentiment, the Blackwood pack was technically still part of Clan Comyn. He’d not only told them that he didn’t give a rat’s ass about their wish to remain in the stone age, but he’d then packed up his shit and left town for a month.

  Just before he’d left, he’d spoken, quite strongly actually, against kidnapping the doctor who’d been trying to solve the low birth rate of their kind. That alone had earned him plenty of new enemies, but was it enough to put him on the radar of a bounty hunter?

  He thought through the list of possible suspects. Who had enough power to pull something like this…or who was low enough? After all, if a coward wanted to increase his standing in the pack or up his chances of winning an alpha challenge, Kerr would have to go.

  If they left the Dragon, or claimed a bit of territory of their own in these mountains, Kerr would be at the top of the contender list for alpha. He wasn’t just a big wolf; he was cunning with alpha in his blood. There were several packs in Clan Comyn, and Kerr could trace his roots back to the first wolves who’d ruled here. Unlike many others of his kind, his family hadn’t immigrated. No, his ancestors were born here, had ridden in war parties against invaders whether they were native or those who’d migrated from overseas.

  He may not have cared enough to challenge the current alpha for leadership of the clan, but he belonged to this land. And he’d be damn sure no one would run him away. Ever.

  So who’d brought this trouble to his door, dammit?

  Shutting the water off, Kerr shook his head like a…well, a wolf and sent water droplets flying across the wide stall. Snatching a warm towel from the rack, he wrapped it around his waist and stepped out onto the cool stone-tiled floor.

  He needed help with this particular problem. And he knew exactly where to go—to the Neutral Zone to find Bhric. Sure, the man’s primary role was to keep an eye on the hybrids and outcasts who’d been banished by their clans, but anyone with a little common sense knew that Bhric had his hands into…other things. That shifter knew sneaky people who knew other under-the-radar people. It was as good a place to start as any.

  Clicking the light off, he moved through the darkness, down the stairs and toward the living area. Before he got to the threshold, he scented it—a lioness? In a wolves den?

  Insane.

  Tempted to drop his towel and shift, he forced himself to wait. With a little patience he might just learn who was turning these wheels.

  Get some fucking answers, Kerr, before you start tearing chunks out of things.

  The light came on and Kerr froze.

  Her eyes went wide for a moment, then narrowed with a fury that burned as hot as his own.

  “You?!” they snarled at each other.

  The change rippled through him but she didn’t move from her spot. Wait, she sat, legs crossed as if she were right at home, in his favorite chair? Even as fangs exploded in his mouth and his body reshaped itself so fast he bounded toward her in a blink, she looked fucking bored.

  Kerr hadn’t thought it was possible to get any more pissed.

  He was wrong.

  Didn’t she know that he was the epitome of the big bad wolf?

  Kerr sprang with a snarl and landed inches from her.

  H
oly shit!

  Paws slid on the smooth wood floor and he came to a halt with his wet nose smashed up against the barrel of a big ass gun.

  * * * * *

  When he shifted back, water still formed pearls on his deeply tanned skin. His chest had a light smattering of dark hair, barely there but not sparse or patchy. She wondered briefly if it would be as soft against her skin as it looked. Kerr’s face was all angles and lines, including the unique shape of his crystal-slate eyes.

  Tipped up at the sides he looked more like a gray-eyed, native warrior, complete with powerful build, long beautiful hair, and sleek body composition. With dark, wet locks plastered against his head, he stood and never took his eyes off the barrel of the gun that had just been pressed to his nose.

  Dear God, he’s so beautiful, please, please don’t make me have to put a hole in him. And the thought turned her guts inside out and back again so fast, it was a marvel she hadn’t blown chunks.

  And then their gazes clashed, but not with the rage of emotion she’d expected. No, this was something deeper, darker. Hotter.

  She sucked in a shocked breath that brought a big whiff of his scent.

  Suddenly she vibrated from the depths of her soul, as if this man had struck a huge gong in the pit of her stomach that rang out, “MATE!”

  Oh my God, not him, too!

  This couldn’t be happening. Maybe her nose was totally haywire along with the rest of her body? She was supposed to take this guy in as a prisoner, not fall for him, damn it. So rather than voice how the edge of his sultry-feeling energy rode across her skin, she did what she did best—got back to work.

  “Why don’t you smell like a bad guy?” she demanded.

  “You shot me, woman!” then he paused and regarded her. “What do bad guys smell like?”