To Take and Hold(Omegaverse Shifter Romance) (shifter fever Book 2)

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To Take and Hold(Omegaverse Shifter Romance) (shifter fever Book 2) Page 1

by Cashmire Hart




  To Take and Hold

  By: Cashmire Hart

  (c) Cashmire Hart 2020

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  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and events are from the author's imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons living, or dead events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the author or publisher.

  Unauthorized or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers.

  To Take and Hold

  A Shifter Fever Novella

  Crixen, commander of an elite team of warriors, has never needed anything but his vengeance. With his deadly scimitars, he's protected the shifter race for over a century. But his world is rocked off its axis when he captures a challenging omega running with a pack of feral wildbloods. Reed temps his alpha nature like no other and he finds himself craving things he never thought he would.

  Reed has done unspeakable things to survive under the cruel hand of a wildblood pack-leader. Having been freed from an existence of misery, he struggles to make a new life for himself at Sanctuary. The warrior alpha that captured him quickly becomes a source of curiosity, and Reed finds himself drawn to the alpha.

  To Take and Hold contains all that good omegaverse action one could want. Knotting, domination, and bonding are just some of the things contained within.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Also available

  About the author

  Prologue

  Crixen moved through the evergreens of Montana with ease, his footfalls barely making a sound. He relied on his instruction and centuries of practice as a deadly killer of the Ro'an. All his training rushed to the forefront in this moment, his body primed and ready.

  His prey was not far.

  What was left of the wildblood pack had scattered into the forest.

  Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the scent of shifter. He lifted his lip up in a silent growl, his fangs ready to tear and rip. It had been a while since he'd hunted and seen his chase come to fruition. As High Guard of the Ro'an, his role had taken a more administrative approach. But every now and then he lucked out and got to work in the field.

  His swift steps carried him through the forest, the heavy breath of his prey guiding him. A flash of pale skin contrasted against the spring green of the trees. Crixen quickened his pace and changed direction, intent on cutting the wildblood off.

  He was nearly on top of the male, the sound of twigs snapping letting him know his prey was in panic mode. He drew his twin blades and grinned, prepared to end the wildblood. They were feral beasts, more animal than human and this particular group had attempted to destroy an entire pack of innocents. With a feral growl, he ambushed the fleeing shifter, cutting off his escape.

  The male slid to a stop, his sapphire eyes rounding. He looked around desperately for a new route. He was completely naked, his body shimmering with sweat and mud.

  "There's nowhere to go," Crixen deadpanned and approached.

  The shifter backed up against a tree. He was small of frame and Crixen reckoned he was young, having not yet come into his body. That thought failed to still his hand. The wildblood pack had caused trouble and for that, they'd be dealt with.

  Need the smell of blood in my nose, he thought as he approached. He was aware his wolf had taken over, the bloodlust commanding him. Rip. Tear. Revenge.

  The male slid to his knees and lowered his eyes. "Please. If you spare my life, I will be at your disposal."

  Crixen stilled. The manner in which this male spoke indicated that he was not feral for wildbloods often lost their command of speech. Narrowing his eyes on the shifter, he kneeled down and gripped his chin roughly. Eyes of the darkest blue looked at him, but they were blank, as if he didn't care if he lived or died. His lashes fluttered, his eyes hooding.

  "Whatever you want, warrior." The shifter reached for Crixen's belt.

  Growling, Crixen backhanded him, and sent the male to the ground.

  "I am omega!" he hissed and wiped his bloodied lip. "Let me show you what I can do for you."

  Crixen pushed his hand away, not in the mood for games. He needed to hunt and kill. He needed his Band-aid. He descended over the shifter and made the last-minute decision to verify his claim. He jammed his fingers into the shifter's ass, eliciting a startled groan. He quickly found the bud that served as an omega's cervix. He must have given his shock away because the shifter spread his legs.

  He licked his lips suggestively and he whispered, "Whatever you want."

  He should have moved away, but his bloodlust turned to a desire of another kind. He leaned in and sniffed at the male's neck, scenting his fear, his exhaustion, and the foreign scents of his wildblood packmates. Past that was his natural scent mingled with faint omega pheromones.

  "What does my warrior like? Does he want to fuck my mouth?" The words were unabashed and smooth. He reached to Crixen's wrist and pushed his fingers deeper. "Something more?"

  The moment of carnal need quickly passed. He was a warrior of the Ro'an and High Guard. He would not be swayed by a wildblood.

  His head suddenly swam, the world spinning out of control. The last thing he saw was the omega's ass as he ran for the trees.

  Fucking alphas. They're all the same.

  Reed ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He was exhausted, but his ordeal was almost over. As he left the warrior hobbling around from a head wound, he gripped the sword he'd pilfered. Wildblood or not, alphas required only two things in life. Power and sex. The latter of which could be used against them.

  He quickly caught the scent of Raze, the leader of the wildblood pack he'd ran with for Goddess knew how long. The odor of alpha shifter was mingled with blood. The warriors had ambushed them, surprising Raze and his pack. It had been totally unexpected. Reed had to hand it to them--making the first move had been smart.

  He cared little for pack politics, however. He had only one goal in his young life.

  Raze's scent thickened, and he spotted blood staining the foliage. He had to find Raze before the warriors did. He knew about the legendary Ro'an. Even the wildbloods feared them and they weren't afraid of much. In fact, Raze had never expected the elite group of warriors to come to the rescue of some random wolf-shifter pack in Montana. He was grateful, however, for if they hadn't attacked, Reed might have never gotten this opportunity.

  He pushed his body as far as it could go, his thighs burning, his feet cut and stinging. The fresh cut on his lip was just another trophy. Bursting through a thick bush, he found Ra
ze hunched over a fallen log. He was bleeding heavily from several wounds, but none appeared to be fatal.

  The alpha noticed him and growled. He motioned for the scimitar and Reed approached, his heart hammering. He tunnel-visioned on the wildblood, his body growing lofty as if he was floating. Everything spun around him, except for Raze, who was as clear as daylight.

  He thinks I'm trying to help him. Reed smiled inside, satisfaction coursing through him hard. Gripping the sword tightly, he raised his hand to strike the alpha down as a sound drew Raze's attention.

  The blade was skillfully removed from his hand and his arms wrenched behind his back. The warrior rendered him immobile as a group of Ro'an emerged from the trees and surrounded Raze.

  "No!" Reed growled.

  He fought against the male that had taken him, but it was no use. He was tired, his body fully spent and the angry eyes of the warrior he'd bashed in the head let him know he wasn't getting away.

  "No!" Reed screamed as Raze, the male he hated most, was overcome by the warriors.

  Chapter 1

  Reed awoke slowly in a comfortable bed, the fluffiness of the mattress and sheets absorbing his weight perfectly. It was late morning, the sun streaming through the window of his quarters. It was nice not being jerked awake by some crisis or demand from another. He'd never had so much peace before.

  As his thoughts came online, he remembered he was still a prisoner. Opening his eyes, he craned his head to find the chair in the corner occupied by the alpha that had captured him. The bastard always slept there. His big body overflowed the fancy chair and he was surprised the spindly legs hadn't broken already. His head was tipped back, his legs propped up on an ottoman as he snored contently.

  Quietly, Reed abandoned his bed for the bathroom and turned the shower on. He relieved himself and stepped under the warm spray, the refreshing water welcomed.

  The wolf howls and the cat meows. The alpha scowls and the omega... bows? Sneering, he doused his hair. The rhymes had kept him sane through his imprisonment by Raze. Wildbloods were feral shifters and as such, rarely spoke. He hadn't talked to anyone in years. Terrified he'd forget how to speak, he played little games in his head, sometimes having whole conversations with himself.

  "The omega... bows," he muttered and rubbed some shampoo in his hair. The flowery scent tickled his nose. "The cow moos and the baby coos."

  He took his time in the shower. Living off the grid in the wilds made him appreciate simple things like a comfortable bed and a nice hot shower. He ran soap all over his body, the scars of his captivity jumping out at him. He could remember how he'd received each and every one. The sensation of being clean heightened his mood and he finished in the tub. Even the feeling of drying himself with a fresh-smelling towel was a thing of beauty.

  He dressed in a simple T-shirt and raggedy jeans. It was nice to have clothes on his body again. He combed his recently trimmed hair and ran his fingers over his stubbled cheeks. As his stomach growled, he promised himself he'd shave tonight.

  As quietly as he could manage, Reed left the bathroom and tip-toed toward his bedroom door. His captor was still asleep in the chair, his breath even. He reached for the doorknob--

  "You should know better by now."

  Reed sighed and slumped his shoulders. The Ro'an warrior was too fucking astute. "Do you enjoy your new job, warrior? Does babysitting fulfill that special place deep in your heart?"

  Crixen rose from his chair and stretched, his form moving like water. The simple black long sleeve shirt and jeans conformed to his body, pronouncing his muscles. He was the perfect example of a Ro'an warrior--big, broody and dangerous.

  "I bet your back is stiff," Reed continued on. Heckling and generally aggravating his captor had become a pastime he enjoyed. "You should really consider sleeping in a bed."

  "You're right," the alpha said as he approached. He'd even slept in his boots, his footfalls heavy. "I should take your bed and you should sleep in the chair."

  "I thought you said that when you brought me here, I wouldn't be a prisoner," Reed countered. "Do guests sleep in uncomfortable chairs?"

  Looking all around him, Crixen held his arms out. "Do you see any bars?"

  There are many types of prisons. "If I ran away, where would I go? There are warriors all over this place. I wouldn't get far so you can stop hoovering over me like an intrusive parent. Maybe I should start calling you Daddy."

  "You're under my protection and supervision," he said with a blank expression, apparently unaffected.

  That anger that had grown in his captivity uncurled itself. "That's pretty vague. Do you want to know what I think?"

  "No, not particularly."

  He took a step closer to the alpha. The only way he could be so brazen was because he'd come to believe this warrior would not hurt him. Had he pulled this stunt with Raze, the alpha would have beaten him mercilessly. "I think you still want a piece of me. You still want to fuck me. You're upset you didn't get that blowjob I promised."

  "We're not doing this," Crixen snapped and left.

  Satisfied, Reed abandoned his bedroom and took the polished grand staircase down to the first floor. The place was a mansion, complete with works of art hanging on the walls, colorful Persian rugs and all the toys a guy could want. The few omegas that were up this early, were huddled around a giant television in the parlor, playing a video game. Crixen had told him this place was called Sanctuary.

  The scent of breakfast drew him in, and he followed his nose into the kitchen. His captor tailed him. Rex, the only alpha he dared to socialize with was busy cooking and baking. From what Reed knew, the warrior had returned from a mission and enjoyed spending time in the kitchen. Reed was distrustful of alphas, but Rex knew how to cook so he tolerated him.

  "Good morning," Rex said. He was dressed in his usual pink ruffle apron over a black shirt and jeans. The omega in charge of Sanctuary, Loren, had told him the apron had been a gag gift. "Pumpkin pancakes."

  Reed slid his butt onto the stool as a plate stacked high with pancakes was placed in front of him along with a cup of maple syrup and a glass of milk. He doused his pancakes with the syrup, watching as it ribboned and covered them.

  "The syrup is all the way from Washington, curtesy of the Alseid family. Have you heard of them?"

  Reed cut off a chunk of the pancakes with his fork. "Who hasn't?"

  He stuffed his mouth with goodness, the cakes light and fluffy, the syrup thick and sweet. He hadn't eaten this well in a long time. Every morning for the past month, his taste buds were entertained, all courtesy of Rex. Living with the wildblood pack, the best thing he could look forward to was salted venison. Needless to say, it hadn't been very appetizing.

  Rex leaned in, his brows arching.

  He swallowed his food and took a big swig of milk. "This is delicious. The pancakes are lofty, and the pumpkin is a nice addition."

  The alpha beamed, clearly satisfied. He turned around and poured some more batter on the griddle. As Reed ate, he listened to Crixen bullshit with another warrior, his voice deep with amusement. For a brief moment, Reed considered bringing him breakfast, but why should he care? His captor was just that. A stranger keeping him here against his will. He didn't care if the alpha starved or not.

  "Have you ever been to Washington?" Rex inquired. "I haven't personally met the Alseid family, but I hear great things about them."

  Reed shook his head and plowed through the pancakes.

  The alpha nodded slowly. "I've been making contacts. The Alseids have agreed to supply me with their products."

  "What are you going to do with copious amounts of maple syrup?"

  "I'm retiring from the Ro'an. I'd like to open my own bakery."

  "Really?" He looked the alpha up and down. He looked silly with all that bulk covered in a pink, frilly apron. His hair was a mishmash of black and brown that curled around his ears. He always wore a kind expression, but it did little to convince Reed to trust him. Or anyone here, for
that matter.

  The male shrugged. "Sometimes we just have to do what makes us happy."

  Happy. It was a word he'd forgotten about because he hadn't been such in a very long time. He went back to eating, not wanting to think about the time before he'd been kidnapped. It was just too painful.

  Chapter 2

  "I've got rounds to do," the warrior said and took his leave.

  Crixen saluted his subordinate and glanced to where Reed was sitting. He was hunched over the kitchen island, bulldozing a stack of pancakes. He chatted lightly with Rex, but Crixen didn't miss the guarded tone in his voice. Rex was a master interrogator, masking his questions about Reed's past under the guise of cooking and traveling.

  Besides his name, Reed had given them nothing. Reed refused to talk and the few things Rex managed to sneak out of him hadn't led anywhere. It was only a matter of time before he let something slip. He was growing more comfortable here and Loren was attempting to get him to socialize with the other omegas. The more complacent he got, the more of a chance they'd discover the male's identity and intentions. Just because Reed was an omega, didn't mean he wasn't loyal to the wildblood alpha.

  The only reason your head isn't rolling around on the floor right now is because you're an omega. Crixen winced at the words. It had been the first thing he'd told Reed when he'd brought him to Sanctuary. It was no wonder the shifter didn't trust him. But being nice and welcoming was not in his blood. He was a stone-cold killer. His countenance and skill with the blade had risen him through the ranks, all the way to High Guard, the top position in the organization.

  There was one thing he was certain of regarding Reed, however. He wasn't wildblood. He'd made that clear when Crixen had captured him. He was still bitter about the whole thing. As the leader of the Ro'an, Crixen had faced many trials in his life. Never before had he'd lost focus. He should have recognized Reed's attempt to distract him and he sure as fuck should have seen that blow coming.

 

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