Red Claw Alpha (Red Claw Rising Book 1)

by Zoey Harper

  The hair on Colton's neck stood up. The last time Patrick had taken advantage of his landlord privileges, Colton had been forced to take a few of his men to an area of Patrick's territory to "evacuate" an entire clan in the middle of the night.

  When they wouldn't budge, things got bloody, and lives were lost. Colton had hated every second of the things he had to do to secure his own clan's prosperity, but more than anything, he hated the nonchalance in Patrick's tone when he’d reported back.

  Colton wanted out from under Patrick's thumb, but he didn't have the money to move. He was alpha, and over a hundred people depended on him. They needed homes, businesses, and schools.

  The shifter world was territorial, and a clan without a territory was fresh meat for the picking. Very few clans that had carved out territory for themselves were willing to sell or rent out. So, for now, Patrick was Colton's only option until he had enough money to look further afield.

  Living in the human territory wasn't an option. There were far too many risks involved in revealing the secret shifter world. There was also the fact that being so far away from nature would make the shifters’ animals restless.

  "What's the job?" Colton gritted out, hating the fact that he had no choice, and hating, even more, the fact that Patrick knew it.

  "One of my packages is missing. The smuggler that was meant to bring it over the border for me has gone into the wind. I want the package and the son of a bitch both brought back to me. You have three days."

  Patrick got up and got in Colton's face, his dark green eyes full of anger. "If you ever pull that bratty tone with me again, we'll have a problem." Patrick flung the office door open and marched out.

  "You'll get a text with the details," he yelled over his shoulder.

  As soon as Colton heard the door to the garage slam shut, he picked up the visitor chair in his office and threw it against the wall, breaking it into pieces. He paced his office for a good five minutes, thinking of all the ways he'd like to kill Patrick.

  The wolf shifter had just taken away what little joy Colton had when he walked into his garage and saw the progress his team was making. And to make matters worse, he was making Colton cross a line he'd promised himself and his men that they'd never have to cross again.

  I'm not going to let that ass-muncher make me look like a bitch.

  Colton walked out onto the garage floor and clapped his hands loudly. Tools powered down and questioning eyes trained on him.

  "Listen up. I'm going to be gone for the next few days. Damon's in charge."

  Colton stomped up the stairs beside his office and walked into his room, leaving his men with more questions than answers. Several thoughts began to buzz in his head, growing louder with each passing minute. Colton got up, reached for his duffle bag, and threw a few clothes into it.

  By the time he’d finished packing, one thought occupied his mind.

  "This is the last time Patrick gets to treat me like his bitch."

  If I have to play dirty, then so be it.

  2

  Tegan Massey rubbed her hands down her jean-clad thighs and willed herself to open the door of her beat-up Nissan. She sat in the parking lot opposite the Stone Claw MMA Gym, bouncing her knee.

  Just do it, chicken-head.

  Tegan sighed. Negative self-talk wouldn't help. At least that's what all the Oprah re-runs she'd watched said. The only problem was that in her case, it wasn't negative self-talk. It was a fact.

  Tegan had managed to escape the horrible life she grew up in as part of the Bluewolf Pack. She shuddered as her brain relived some of the memories of her final week with them.

  Something about knowing she would be leaving soon had cleared her mind, and when she saw the clan for what it was, she not only felt sorry for herself but for all the other women she lived with.

  How many times had Tegan heard whispers of a woman getting beaten to a pulp, just because she didn't prepare what her mate felt like eating? How many times had she heard whispers of girls getting "spoiled" on their way home from school?

  The Bluewolf Pack ruled with an iron fist, and getting outside intervention was the ultimate sin. Do that, and neither you or your family would live for much longer.

  Tegan squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her trembling hands into a fist. She had plenty of motivation to want to do well at this job interview. She didn't need a trip down memory lane to remind her of that.

  Taking a deep breath, Tegan pushed the door to her car open and stood to face the gym. She pulled her shoulders back as she stared at the claw emblem on the sign.

  "You've got this," she told herself. "Eight hours here, then you can go back home to the safety of Netflix and all the pizza you can eat."

  Oprah's voice rang in her head once more, reminding her that self-medicating with food was a dangerous thing. Tegan brushed the voice aside.

  She needed courage right about now, and anything that would get her over that line was more than welcome.

  This was her fourth job in six months. As a middle school dropout, her options were limited. And Tegan had just about run out of options when it came to jobs that didn't require qualifications.

  Her last stint at a hair salon had lasted the longest and been the most rewarding. Tegan had found a sense of friendship among the women at the salon, but it quickly ended once she got fired. It turned out that the same skills used to wash one's own hair didn't translate into washing a customer’s hair satisfactorily.

  Tegan could still see the look of disappointment on her boss’s face when she'd sheepishly admitted to lying about having experience as a wash girl. Tegan sighed. Working at the salon was no longer an option. There was no point in pining over the loss.

  Although she doubted she'd make any friends here, she would make good money. Besides which, cleaning was one thing she was good at. Every Bluewolf woman had to be.

  "Enough dilly-dallying."

  Tegan buried her hands in the pockets of her hoodie and crossed the street, grateful that in Stonewick, Kentucky, snow wasn't much a part of winter. With her wolf shifter heritage, she didn't need much to keep her warm.

  Tegan pulled the glass doors to the gym open, and her eyes immediately darted up. The top floor of the gym was exposed through the metal railing. It held stationary bikes and other gym equipment she was unfamiliar with. No one got to carry fifteen pounds of extra weight by working out often.

  Her eyes then landed on the bottom floor. To the right sat what looked like a small office. The blinds were open, and she could see a large tattooed man on the phone, pacing the small space.

  Tegan turned to her left and saw red floor mats, punching bags, and a sizeable octagon-shaped ring in the center of the space. One of the walls was covered with a mirror, and various weights were stationed in front of it.

  "Kind of like a normal gym," Tegan muttered under her breath.

  A door opened at the back of the central floor area and out walked a group of men. There must have been a changing room back there. About ten men stepped out, chatting away, clearly not having seen Tegan, who cowered in the corner.

  Wolves. The men were wolf shifters. She could scent a wolf anywhere, in any weather. How could she not, when her entire life had been spent trying to stay hidden from their violent gazes?

  Tegan's heart drummed out of control, and her breath hitched erratically. She turned to look at the door behind her, then at her car in the parking lot outside. Her forehead dampened with sweat, and she brought a shaky hand up to wipe it.

  She had two choices. Leave and hope to God she got another job in a matter of days. Or stay and face her fears.

  Up until now, Tegan had managed to avoid much contact with male wolves. But it seemed her luck had run out. Not only was she in an enclosed space with them, but these were fighting wolves.

  I only have enough rent for another two weeks.

  Tegan drew a sharp breath and pulled her shoulders back. She needed to survive. All her plans would fall to the wayside if sh
e couldn't do one simple thing: hold down a job.

  Tegan looked at the group of wolves once more. They were shirtless and well-muscled. Half of them stretched, while the other half wrapped their fists in a cloth of some kind.

  They were here to train, and she was here to clean. That's all there was to it.

  Before she turned to walk to the office, Tegan caught the dark eyes of a single wolf shifter. He seemed older than the rest, and he seemed to be studying her, rather than leering. His eyes darted up and down her body, and then he sneered.

  Tegan hustled to the office and knocked on the door harder than she intended to. She mentally rolled her eyes before forcing a smile onto her face. The YouTube videos she'd binged on about "how to nail an interview" all mentioned the importance of exuding confidence and friendliness.

  Tegan wasn't sure how much of that applied to interviews between shifters. She had a feeling it would be something more instinctual, rather than logical. Either way, she needed all the help she could get.

  Tegan had heard about the gym from one of the girls at the hair salon. The girl's boyfriend had just been accepted to the gym, which was a big deal in shifter MMA circles. When Tegan had seen the ad for a cleaner on her job board, she'd jumped at the chance.

  The way her friend spoke about the gym made it sound like a professional place. Their pay had indicated as much. Now all Tegan needed was to land the job interview for a cleaner. How hard could that be?

  "Come in," a tired voice answered.

  Tegan opened the door and shut it gently behind her. She smiled and stretched out a hand as she'd learned. "Hi. I'm Tegan."

  The heavily tattooed man looked up from the papers on his desk where he now sat and let his eyes run up and down Tegan's body. The young woman snapped her hand back and wiped her sweaty palm on the back of her pants. How embarrassing!

  "You're the one here for the cleaning job?" he asked, his brows furrowed.

  Tegan nodded, then remembered she needed to exude confidence. "Yes. I am. I'm excited to—"

  "Save it. This won't work. Shut the door on your way out."

  The man lowered his head and got back to his paperwork. Tegan felt humiliated. She'd driven a good thirty minutes to get to this part of Stonewick, which wasn't the best part of town, by the way.

  The gas for this trip alone would significantly eat into her budget for the week, and this man, whose scent she couldn't place, was ready to send her back home after less than a minute.

  Tegan pulled out the seat opposite the man and plopped down into it, folding her arms. His dark green eyes bored into her, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Whatever he was, he was dangerous, and Tegan had just pissed him off.

  Bad move, but now you've got to own it.

  "I told you to leave." The man's voice was even.

  "I-I know," Tegan stuttered. She cleared her throat. "But I can't. I need this job, and I can do it."

  Silence filled the room. Tegan's heartbeat thumped in her ears as she and the man locked gazes. He blinked twice, then sighed.

  "Look, I respect your hustle. Not a lot of wolves would dare piss off a tiger, but I'm sending you home for your own good."

  Tegan's eyes bulged. A tiger. They were several times the size of a wolf. She'd taken an enormous gamble, and she was glad it had paid off. Her life might have ended, otherwise.

  Tegan could see her tombstone now: Tegan Massey. Dead at only twenty-three. Beloved daughter and sister. Except that would never happen. She had no clan and no mate. No one would mourn her death. She dismissed the morbid thoughts.

  "Please," Tegan said, appealing to the caring side the tiger had just revealed. "I'm almost out of cash. Your job pays well, and as I said, I can do it. I've always been a neat person."

  Not by choice, but it was still the truth. The tiger suddenly got up and walked to the window that looked out onto the gym. He motioned for Tegan to join him.

  "This is an MMA gym. We train fighters here. Each of these men will spend at least five hours a day here. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are for the wolves. Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays for the big cats. Saturdays are usually fight nights. A pretty little thing like you would be a huge distraction for either group. There's no telling what they'll want to do."

  Tegan bristled. Here was another man, reducing her to nothing but her body. "I can handle myself."

  The tiger snorted and chuckled. "Now I know for a fact that you're lying. I watched you freeze up when you walked in that door."

  The tiger folded his arms and faced Tegan head on. "Listen, it's the father in me that's warning you. My guys are fighters. They're good because they follow their raw instincts. I can't be held responsible for what they say or do. If you're okay with that, then the gig's yours."

  Tegan held out her hand and plastered on a fake smile. "I look forward to working with you...Mr... I didn't catch your name."

  The tiger chuckled and took her hand in his large one and barely squeezed it.

  "Cleaning supplies are in the closet beside this room. I doubt you'll survive the day, so we won't waste time with names."

  The tiger walked to his desk and searched through his papers, before handing one to Tegan. "Here's your list."

  Tegan took the offered paper and made her way to the closet. All her life, she'd been underestimated because she was a woman. It was the Bluewolf way, and she'd hated every second of it.

  But now she had a chance to prove herself. Not only to the tiger but to herself.

  Tegan had always been weak, even in her own eyes. Heck, she was a wolf shifter that couldn't shift at will, let alone fight. Her animal had cowered deep within her and gone to sleep somewhere in her early teens, leaving Tegan to face life alone.

  I've gotten this far alone. I won't stop now.

  Over the next couple of hours, Tegan went down the list systematically. She started by wiping down the weight equipment on the weight stands and arranging them in order. Some of them were hard to lift, but she'd managed.

  Then she went up to the stationary bikes and treadmills and wiped down their consoles. Tegan was shocked by the amount of dirt on the machines. It seemed the men rarely used the machines to warm up.

  Tegan swept, mopped, and dusted practically every surface, careful to stay away from the mats, where the men trained. After the first hour, she'd gotten used to the sound of grunting and more colorful cursing than she'd heard in a long time.

  Finally, Tegan had nothing else to do, but start work on the central area. She'd tackle the lockers later, after lunch. There was no point in cleaning it up now, only to have it get dirty again.

  Secretly, she was dreading the idea of seeing what a locker room looked like. If the sweat glistening on the men's bodies were any indication, then it would smell foul and look grimy.

  "You don't need pretty. You need a job," Tegan whispered to herself.

  Tegan watched the men spar. Half of them worked on what looked like boxing, while the other half surrounded the octagon-shaped ring as a pair wrestled each other on the floor.

  The older wolf Tegan had seen when she first walked in moved about the room offering pointers. As she neared the giant windows, he sneered once more, muttering something about how the gym was no place for women.

  Tegan lifted her chin and carried on, determined to ignore him. It was that type of male arrogance that had started to irritate her. The older wolf probably thought that what hung between his legs was enough reason for him to underestimate and undervalue Tegan. Well, she wouldn't let him kill her motivation.

  Tegan was on a roll. She'd already worked through twenty percent of the giant list. She knew that she didn't have to get it all done in a day, but she'd made good progress. From now on, all she'd be doing was maintenance cleaning.

  "Hey, gorgeous," a low voice rumbled in her ear.

  Tegan whirled around to come face to face with a gray-eyed wolf. His eyes were glued to her tits, and his tongue darted out to lick his lips. Tegan's belly turned to ice as s
he realized she was backed into a corner of the large gym.

  Her eyes darted over his shoulder. No one was paying attention to them. Tegan swallowed thickly as her heart thudded painfully against her ribcage. She had no fighting experience, but even if she did, it'd be no good against a trained fighter.

  "Stay away from me," she said, forcing as much steel into her voice as possible.

  The gray-eyed wolf laughed. "Come on, sweetheart. We both know that's not what you want."

  Tegan took a step back and raised her voice. "Stay away from me," she repeated more emphatically.

  A voice called from across the room, imitating her before a few chuckles broke out in the group that had been practicing boxing next to where she was. The men dropped their hands and came over to her, eager to watch what was about to unfold.

  Tegan's belly roiled with disgust. These men were treating her harassment like a spectator sport. And yet again, it was because she was a woman.

  "Hey," a loud voice boomed, making the men jump. There, standing just outside his office, stood the tiger. His green eyes narrowed, and he growled low.

  "Get back to work," he spat. "I'm not going to let you assholes run off another cleaner. You keep it up, and it'll be a part of your training."

  The wolves moved off silently, all except for the gray-eyed wolf. He smiled at Tegan. "To be continued," he whispered.

  "Not if you want to train here anymore," the tiger said, directly behind him. Tegan hadn't even heard the tiger move, but he was there right behind the gray-eyed wolf, his eyes murderous.

  "Sorry, boss." The wolf moved away, and Tegan's shoulders sagged in relief. She parted her lips to thank the tiger, only to find his furious gaze trained on her.

  "Look at what you're doing. I told you this isn't the place for you. Learn to stand up for yourself or get out."

  The tiger stormed off, leaving a dumbfounded Tegan to mull over his words. She wasn't the one in the wrong here. Those men had harassed her.

  Why was she getting blamed for their inability to act like decent people?