Table of Contents
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
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Huntress Bound
Wolf Legacy, Volume 2
Aimee Easterling
Published by Wetknee Books, 2017.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
HUNTRESS BOUND
First edition. September 17, 2017.
Copyright © 2017 Aimee Easterling.
Written by Aimee Easterling.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
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
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Rogue Huntress
Chapter 1
I stood in Sebastien’s foyer and assessed my current predicament.
Unwitting mate who had no idea I was a werewolf? Check.
Tenuous permission to hunt for my brother within another clan’s territory? Check.
Cupcake from my beloved father to be eaten when I found a safe harbor? Check.
Pants? Okay, so I’d lost that one small item somewhere along the way. But otherwise, I seemed to be all set.
With everything else accounted for, I gazed up into my mate’s molten chocolate eyes and acted more bold than I felt. “Do you think,” I asked a human who I’d only met a few days earlier, “I could spend the night on your sofa?”
Sebastien’s scent gradually shifted as he looked me up and down, gladness at my unexpected arrival giving way to the first inkling of doubt as reality stretched out between us. And I had to admit that he had grounds for misgivings. After all, it was roughly one o’clock in the morning and I’d spent the last hour running through the city in lupine form. So in addition to those missing trousers, my feet were filthy, my hair was tangled, and I looked very much like my inner beast felt—exhilarated, tired, and very much wild.
I’d apparently chosen well, though, when I bound myself to this particular human in a fit of intense desperation earlier in the evening. Because the professor merely nodded and showed me inside, nuking a mug of water plus tea bag in the microwave before joining me on the sofa. Being cared for felt really good...so I squashed my inner chef’s urge to cringe at the irregular brewing method and instead settled in to enjoy the experience.
And, once again, Sebastien proved himself far more insightful than I’d expected. “Tea is healthier when you make it this way,” my companion explained professorially as he handed over the vessel. “More theanine and polyphenol. Try it.”
Obediently, I lifted the mug while struggling against my wolf’s impulse to scoot closer to our host so our skin might touch. The liquid was hot and aromatic, and my inner beast quieted as we discovered that our mate was right. The brew was tasty. Perhaps science won out over tradition after all...at least in this one specific case.
Unfortunately, Sebastien’s methodical mind wasn’t willing to let my unconventional appearance slide by without further comment. “Are you in trouble?” he asked when the silence between us had lengthened considerably. And even though the topic wasn’t one I’d hoped to broach tonight, the gravelly rumble of my companion’s voice was enough to make my inner wolf whimper with delight.
On the other hand, my human self was the one carrying on our end of this particular conversation, and I had no answer to the questions that were surely running through Sebastien’s mind as quickly as possible answers were streaming through mine. Should I explain away my pants-less arrival by saying I’d fallen out of a moving car and torn my clothing on the pavement? Been vomited upon by a drunken party-goer before tossing the sullied fabric? Lost my clothes in an ill-fated poker match? Was there any semi-believable explanation at all other than the fully implausible truth?
“Should I call the police?” Sebastien continued when I failed to so much as nod or shake my head in reply to his earlier question. “If somebody hurt you....”
And there was that wolf-like possessiveness I knew and loved. My mouth quirked up on one side as Sebastien’s aroma shifted yet again, this time turning steely and dangerous in response to thoughts about an imaginary tormentor.
No, Sebastien hadn’t chosen me as his mate when given the chance. Didn’t, in fact, possess a single clue about what a werewolf mate bond consisted of or that he’d become entangled in one against his will. But my companion did worry that I’d been harmed, and that concern soothed my lupine soul.
So I hastened to return the favor. “Nobody hurt me. I promise,” I answered, trying to figure out what else I could tell Sebastien without risking either of our skins. After all, despite being my not-quite-mate, the professor was still a human who wasn’t allowed to learn about shifter-kind under penalty of death. That particular sword of Damocles definitely put a damper on what I was willing and able to share.
I must have hesitated a bit too long. Because before I could come up with any answer at all, Sebastien cut me off. He sighed, pursed his lips, then let me off the hook. “You can’t tell me. I understand.”
He didn’t understand, though. Not really. Our mate bond wasn’t yet fully functional, but proximity still granted me a window into my companion’s thought processes. Via our half-formed tether, I could tell that the professor was confused, puzzled, disappointed...and that he also halfway believed he’d opened up his home to a mafia member whose family would invade with guns blazing before the night was out.
The mere notion startled words from my lips that I wished I could take back as soon as they’d been uttered. “I’m not a gangster,” I told him...only to realize a second too late that an ordinary human wouldn’t have been granted that trickle of insight into her companion’s thoughts.
In an effort to cover my butt, I segued straight into the first semi-believable lie that came to mind. “I wasn’t paying attention earlier, and I got stuck in an auto-locking door,” I started, warming to my tale as it spun out around me. “I would have told you when you first asked, but the result was just plain embarrassing. The door snagged on my pants as I was going out the back of a bar downtown, and I couldn’t figure out how to te
ar the fabric loose or get anyone’s attention. That place was so loud—it was crazy. So I wriggled my way out of my trousers and came here rather than walking bare-butted through the fray. Really, there’s no reason to call the police. I’m not hurt. I just need a place to stay for the night.”
I paused, then added, “And maybe the loan of a pair of pants.”
For half a second, I thought my mate had bought into my lie. After all, the tale didn’t involve supernatural beings or invisible bonds—surely it was more convincing than the truth?
But then Sebastien shook his head, chocolate eyes hardening into sharp-edged flint. “You can spend the night and borrow some pants,” he offered. “But please don’t lie to me again.”
Chapter 2
With surprisingly few words, my host dug up an old pair of sweat pants then showed me into his bedroom. After that, he closed a far-too-solid door between us, flicking off the hall light and relegating himself to the couch.
Which left me trembling on the brink, fighting against my wolf’s desire to slip back through the darkened building and weasel my way into the absent human’s waiting arms.
“Totally inappropriate,” I chided my alter-ego, forcing our feet to turn away from the barrier. She countered with a memory of yesterday’s kiss, which—I in turn reminded her—had occurred in front of strangers and had never been repeated since. Plus, by human standards, a peck on the hand gave me no right to turn up on my mate’s doorstep after midnight, let alone insinuate myself into his belated slumber. Despite rocking my world, Sebastien’s lips had never even touched my face.
My wolf growled quietly but allowed me to turn aside in order to peruse our mate’s inner sanctum instead. Unlike his office back at the college, this room was neat as a pin, the bed freshly made and clothing all tucked away into drawers. Only two areas spoke to the professor’s recent attention—a desk cluttered with papers in one corner of the abode and a workbench dotted with wood shavings and carving paraphernalia at the other.
I was tempted to see what kind of art Sebastien had chosen to create. But nosing aimlessly through his belongings wasn’t what I’d come for. Instead, I perched on the hard wooden chair in front of the professor’s desk and opened the laptop that sat waiting on the otherwise empty expanse.
It felt strangely disloyal to borrow hardware without permission, vaguely like the lie Sebastien had made me promise not to tell. Still, I reasoned that my mate would neither know nor care that I’d plugged in a simple thumb drive and perused the contents using his keyboard and monitor. It wasn’t as if I planned to comb through my mate’s data; I just needed the loan of his equipment to discover what my brother had so carefully squirreled away.
Conscience sated, I inserted my brother’s data-storage device into its slot and hastily plugged in a pair of headphones as well when Derek’s face filled the laptop’s screen. “I don’t have much time,” my brother whispered, the view jiggling erratically as he speed walked down a corridor while filming himself on his cell phone. The younger male was entering the bay of PO boxes where I’d found this thumb drive, I realized. Meanwhile, the time stamp at the bottom of the screen matched the date when my brother’s social media accounts had gone so abruptly dark. Perhaps I was about to discover the clue that would lead me toward Derek’s current location?
Unfortunately, whatever had happened all those weeks ago must not have been good. Because my brother was obviously scared at the time of filming, sweat beading on his forehead as he glanced back over one shoulder rather than looking directly into the camera. “They’ll be here any minute,” Derek continued, voice muffled by the angle of his head. “I just hope I have time to drop off the key where you can find it so this whole thing doesn’t turn into a complete waste of time.”
I clenched my fists in frustration. Even in his desperation, my brother remained unbelievably vague. Who would be there at any minute? And had this video been intended for me or for someone else within his intensely private life? The truth was, Derek had never even let slip the name of a single friend, so I had no idea who else he might be addressing.
My questions remained unanswered, but my brother did drop a few additional hints. “If you’re watching this,” he said, “then I’ve probably disappeared off the face of the Lupanet. In which case, just watching this video might put you at risk. If you’re connected to the internet right now, disconnect, copy the contents of this thumb drive someplace safe, then destroy both the computer and thumb drive. Right now. I mean it.”
“Paranoid much?” I countered even as I hastened to obey Derek’s instructions. Well, not the destroying part. I wasn’t going to ruin my mate’s hardware without his permission. And even though Derek had gone missing, I didn’t quite believe the mere act of plugging a thumb drive into a laptop put me and Sebastien at risk.
Still, I transferred files onto my phone’s SD card as the video continued to roll. Derek had entered the chamber of PO boxes by that point, his fingers fumbling with a key in the near darkness. “Don’t follow me without backup,” the male whispered, glancing over his shoulder as the barest echo of a slamming door carried through my tinny speakers. My brother swore, hesitated, then spoke directly into the camera once again.
“Sebastien Carter is a good egg. If you need help, go to him.”
Then the screen went dark. No indication of what Derek planned to do or where he intended to go. No data on whether he’d been snatched up or had made good on his escape and disappeared back into the anonymity of the city proper.
Well, that wasn’t quite right. I’d discovered the key to the PO box miles from my present location in a national forest where werewolves frequently hunted. Which meant my brother had made it off the college campus unscathed during the night in question...although who knew what had happened thereafter.
Transfer complete, the computer reported, breaking into my increasingly circular thoughts. I double-clicked on a few files, found strings of numbers and letters that my tired brain refused to comprehend. It was definitely time to call it a night.
Still, Derek had been single-mindedly intent upon his paranoia. So after sliding the SD card back into my phone, I carried the thumb drive into the bathroom and dropped it into a mouthwash bottle to deteriorate. Then I powered Sebastien’s computer all the way down, the room around me growing dark and still in an instant.
Finally, I sank back onto my mate’s bed, the day’s events crashing over me in a wave of exhaustion. I was alone with my wolf, my thoughts, and a hole in my belly that reminded me I was no longer part of any pack. What kind of werewolf hunted entirely alone?
Chapter 3
I should have realized that my wolf hadn’t surrendered to my earlier admonitions. She was merely biding her time and waiting for the right moment in which to strike.
Now, as exhaustion rounded my shoulders while the lack of nearby family gnawed at my gut, my inner beast grabbed the reins out of my tired fingers. Pushing open the bedroom door with human hands, she drew us toward what she considered the solution to all of our problems—a session of snuggling with our recently bonded mate.
And I’ll admit it—I didn’t really resist. After all, the day felt like it had lasted for an eternity, and the steady susurrus of Sebastien’s breathing drew us forward like flames entice a moth. So my wolf and I were united as we passed through the dimly lit corridor, pausing only after we were able to peer greedily upon our mate’s enticing body.
He was asleep. Sacked out on the sofa with one arm wrapped around a cushion and the opposite leg visible atop the thin blanket that he’d fallen asleep beneath. Resting, the professor’s scent was less intense than usual, but also more complex. Old books and brilliant sunshine filled my nostrils, and beneath that came the merest hint of slippery elm.
Then I lost track of rational thought as my own inner beast subsumed me yet deeper beneath her control. Shedding shirt, underwear, and borrowed pants alike, we slipped into our lupine skin as seamlessly as a fish dives beneath the surface of a pond. M
ate, the wolf whispered silently inside our combined body, raising her snout to nuzzle at Sebastien’s stubbled cheek. Ours.
The professor sneezed as our eyelashes brushed up against his nostrils. But although he stirred, he didn’t wake. Instead, the human merely pressed his back further up against the sofa cushions as if welcoming us into his personal space.
My wolf needed no further encouragement. Leaping onto the sofa as lightly as any house cat crept onto an off-limits kitchen counter, she settled in beside the slumberer. Then, my own nature squashed beneath her stronger will, we all three fell soundly asleep.
I WOKE TO THE DISTANT tolling of a doorbell, and for one split second I forgot where I was. My dreams had been redolent with sensations—scent, sound, and even the heady tingle of hands sliding across naked skin. Claiming moon, my wolf whispered, reminding me that we had, at long last, discovered our mate.
Of course, Sebastien hadn’t yet discovered us back. Still, when I opened my eyes, I granted both woman and wolf time to soak up his tantalizing presence. Surely we possessed enough leeway for such a small indulgence as that.
Together, my inner beast and I basked in Sebastien’s beauty. Dark stubble coated the professor’s jaw, but the shadow only made him appear stronger rather than unkempt. A wisp of sable hair lay across one high cheekbone, and it was all I could do not to stretch out my neck and nose the tendril aside. Meanwhile, twitching orbs beneath his eyelids proved that the professor was still deeply asleep.
Our mate was just as enticing in daylight as he’d been beneath the moon last night. But the color of the pillow was oddly muted while the medley of scents swirling between us threatened to overwhelm my human mind. And, gradually, I remembered succumbing to the unthinkable—cuddling up beside a one-body in the skin of my wolf.
My location, unfortunately, wasn’t the only problem marring the morning’s tranquility. Voices carried in from outside the house, too soft for me to make out individual words but with their inherent tension abundantly clear. Then fists hit the door in a cacophony that was bound to wake my resting bed-mate sooner rather than later. Time was quickly running out.
Huntress Bound Page 1