Table of Contents
Buried and Shadowed
Buried
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
Shadowed
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
A Note from Alexandra and Carrie Ann
About Carrie Ann and her Books
About Alexandra and her Books
Buried
and
Shadowed
A Branded Packs Novel
By
Alexandra Ivy and Carrie Ann Ryan
Buried and Shadowed
A Branded Packs Novel
By: Alexandra Ivy and Carrie Ann Ryan
ISBN: 978-1-943123-13-1
© 2016 Alexandra Ivy and Carrie Ann Ryan
Cover Art by Syneca
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person or use proper retail channels to lend a copy. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination.
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Buried and Shadowed
Buried
Gibson Barton knows his Pack is on the verge of something they will never be able to prepare for: a chance at freedom. Yet when he’s finally able to open his eyes to what might be his fate, it could be too late.
As a submissive wolf of her Pack, Mandy Calhoun has always only watched Gibson from afar. Because of her fears, she hasn’t let her intentions toward him—or the other in her sights—be known.
Oliver Dare is the Foreseer of the Ursine Pack, and knows with each vision, his death is that much closer. Yet he cannot see his own future—or that of the two wolves who have been thrust into his path.
There is danger lurking in the den, and as the three learn to process their emotions and navigate their temptations, they’ll have to fight for something they never knew they had—or sacrifice it all for a purpose far greater than their own destinies.
Shadowed
Sinclair, Alpha of the Unseen Pack, is determined to destroy the Shifter Accommodation Unit. He understands that his people will never be free until the truth is revealed and their enemies are brought out of the shadows and exposed to the public. Unfortunately, the human female who has been secretly working with him has disappeared, and his priorities must shift slightly. He’s resolved to track her down, and not just because she has the information he needs.
Mira Reese isn’t stupid. She’s painfully aware that the sexy shifter she’s been working with has been using her fascination for him to gain access to the CDC computer system. But that doesn’t stop her from helping Sinclair. Not when it allows her to be close to him. But after the CDC kidnaps her, she realizes that this isn’t a game. She’s a potential savior for the future of the shifters—and perhaps especially the loner wolf who stirs her passions.
Buried
Chapter 1
Sometimes covering a scar, a brand, didn’t feel like a thousand needles pressing into flesh and tearing through a person’s soul; sometimes, it added something new and precious. Something with promise.
At least that’s what Gibson hoped.
A breeze slid his hair in front of his face, and he blew on it before pulling away from his friend’s arm and knocking his head back so he could see again. His bangs were getting too long, but he didn’t have the time or inclination to cut them.
Anya, the mate of his best friend Cole, stood behind him with a hair tie and pulled the strands back. “You need a haircut, Gibson.”
Cole, the man he was currently tattooing, watched Gibson with narrowed eyes. They might be best friends, but Anya was a little too close to Gibson for comfort apparently. That’s what happened at the start of new matings. The males—and hell, the females, too—got a little territorial when it came to what was theirs. Gibson couldn’t really blame Cole for wanting to rip out his throat right then.
“You might want to take a step back there, momma bear,” he said casually.
Anya, a slender, decently tall woman, stood back and moved so she was in Gibson’s line of sight. Her two cubs from her disastrous first relationship bounced around her feet in bear form. They were seriously adorable.
She looked between Gibson and Cole, her brows raised. “Seriously, lazy cat? I was just putting his hair back so he didn’t mess up your mating tattoo.”
Cole blinked up at her, a smile lazily forming on his face. There was a reason Anya called her mate lazy cat, the man moved slowly and with a sense of ease Gibson never understood. Of course, that was only when there wasn’t danger to Anya, the cubs, or the Pack. If someone came after them like they had before, well, no one would ever call Cole lazy then.
“I just love watching you get angry,” Cole said before he winked. “You get all hot and bothered.”
Anya snorted but didn’t look angry at all right then. Their cubs, Owen and Lucas, rolled around on the floor around them, oblivious to the current conversation. At least he thought so, since the cubs were oddly observant when he wasn’t paying that much attention.
Since the newly mated pair was currently in a deep conversation about nothing, Gibson set his tattooing equipment down and rubbed the back of his neck. Of course, he probably could have redone his hair in a new ponytail, but he liked the fact that Anya had done it, merely because it rankled Cole. That’s what best friends did, after all, bugged the shit out of each other.
Before the three Packs—Canine, Ursine, and Feline—had been forced together in the single compound a few months ago, Gibson never thought to find friendship with a Feline Tracker. Now, he couldn’t imagine his life without the other man.
Cole understood Gibson in ways others didn’t because he didn’t push. The other man let him be; let him breathe. Gibson liked being alone, watching from afar. He didn’t get too close to others, and other than his Alpha, Holden, he didn’t speak to the other wolves much.
He never felt like he could honestly. Because he was the one in the Pack, and now the entire compound, who had the ability—and responsibility—to mark those who had already been branded.
When the Verona Virus had hit the human population a quarter of a century ago, his people had been forced out of hiding in order to save the human race. He’d only been ten at the time, but he remembered it vividly. He remembered the fear, the death, and the entrapment. When the humans found out about the existence of shifters, they created the Shifter Accommodation Unit, aka the SAU, and forced everyone not like them into compounds.
Gibson’s family had died in the ambush, and he’d been forced to find a way to live without them in this new world. Until recently, he’d only seen the SAU guards and wolves. Now with the bears and cats with him, he had a little more variety, but it was still a solitary existence.
Mostly because it had to be for him.
When the humans took their freedom, they’d also forced the shifters to wear collars like animals and bear the brands of their species. And because those in the SAU were sadistic weasels, they forced the wolves’ Alpha, Holden, to be the one to brand them. His friend and Alpha was made to burn the flesh of his people in front of the Pack so the humans could feel superior. As children were born in the den, they were forced to wear the brand, as well. Thankfully, the humans didn’t understand Pack magic, and didn’t know that Holden was the one who felt the pain with each brand. Holden had to hold back the screams and teach the children to play at being in pain so they wouldn’t get caught.
Gibson knew he’d never fully understand the depth of his Alpha’s love and loyalty to his Pack, but he’d do anything he had to in order to protect those bonds.
And that was why he’d been the one to learn to tattoo, to be the one who made each brand special, rather than something from the SAU. He learned to trace over raised flesh with ink so the brand looked like something they’d want, rather than something thrust upon them. He also added to one side of the tattoo with a special design that spoke of the individual Pack.
There were dozens of compounds littered around major cities in the US and the world. Through their own spy network, the shifters had been able to come up with a way to make their own designs for ink around the brand. It was Gibson’s job to make sure each and every Pack member had it. Of course, he waited until each shifter was of age and sound mind to do it, but he was the one who tattooed each and every wolf in the den.
And because the cats and bears had no one with his talent, he did theirs, as well. In the past decade, he’d been the one to sneak off the compound to the cats’ and bears’ places to do their tattooing. While he could have taught others to do it, he felt like he was the one who had to. It seemed ridiculous in retrospect that he’d risked so much to do what he did, but at the time, he knew he had to. And the Alphas of the other two Packs had been welcoming—even if some of the others hadn’t wanted his kind to touch them.
Yet every single one had his ink.
Hundreds of shifters wore his mark, his work, and yet he felt closed off from them. As if he were on the outside looking in because he was the one who had to cause them more pain.
“You okay, Gibson?” Cole asked, his voice low.
Gibson looked up at his friend and nodded. He didn’t speak much since there wasn’t a reason to. His work would speak for itself, and not just the Pack tattoos. He also did other work for any shifter who wanted a tattoo that was theirs and not the Pack’s or the SAU’s.
That meant he was always busy. But he liked it. As long as he didn’t have to think too hard about why he wanted to stay busy, he was fine.
“Want to finish this another time?” Cole asked, worry on his face.
Gibson shook his head. “I’m good,” he grumbled, his voice rusty from lack of use.
“If you say so,” Cole said wearily. “We can do Anya’s mating tattoo tomorrow if you need a break.”
“Really, Gibson, I’m good with waiting.” Cole wrapped his arms around her hips as she stood next to where her mate sat. Gibson held back a sigh.
He was happy for them, truly. If anyone deserved a mate and a happy ending, it was these two. They’d been through hell for one another and their Packs, and this mating would ensure the Packs’ health as well as their own.
So Gibson would complete the other part of his role and work on the mating tattoo for them. It was the least he could do. On the other side of the brand, opposite the Pack symbol, when a couple or triad mated, they had their own design inked on their flesh. That way, once it was completed, they held a full circle: of shifter, Pack, mating, and future. Without all of it, the design looked unfinished, as if it needed more for a person to stay whole. He stole a glance at his own design, one he’d inked himself, though he knew he could have probably found another to do it for him.
He didn’t have the mating mark and knew it might never come. Matings were few and far between within the compound. There just weren’t enough people for each person to find someone they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with. And while it might have been a bit easier to…settle if they were human, their inner beasts would never allow that.
So while Gibson might have wanted another, unless his wolf agreed, it would never happen. Of course, in Gibson’s case, it was a little more complicated than that.
For Gibson, it always was.
Owen patted his knee with his little paw, his claws sheathed, and Gibson smiled. He loved these two cubs like his own, and since he was their honorary uncle, his wolf felt like they were family. In fact, his wolf stretched out, giving a big yawn before bumping up against his skin, wanting contact.
Soon, Gibson thought. He’d shift to his wolf and go on a run in one of the few areas the SAU allowed him to hunt within the compound. One day soon, he had a feeling their kind would be able to hunt and roam in any of the forested areas around here, free and on their own four paws.
The time was coming for a revolution, though Gibson wasn’t sure it would be from tooth and claw, but maybe mental ability and policy instead. That was so unlike the past they’d grown up in, the histories they’d been taught. But as long as his Pack could live, he would do anything for them.
Gibson sighed and roughed up the fur on the top of Owen’s head before stretching. “Okay, let’s get this last part done and I can work on Anya’s. It’ll be quicker with hers because I already have the design done and it’s always easier the second time.”
Cole blinked at him, and Gibson was aware he’d spoken more then than usual, but he was trying to get out of his funk and get his mind on the task at hand. He could brood on his own later. It was what he was best at.
“Thanks for doing this,” Anya said softly, Lucas snuggled in her arms.
“It’s what I do,” Gibson said just as softly. And that was true. He wasn’t the kind of fighter Cole was, even if he could hold his own. So he did his best to be a master at the one thing no one else wanted to do.
A scent hit him straight on, and he gripped his machine harder before forcing himself to relax. Thankful the needle hadn’t been in Cole’s skin. But it was damn close. He hated that scent. Hated it as much as he craved it.
Though they were inside his little studio, he had the door open to let out some of the intense heat. It wasn’t as if they had air conditioning or heating within their little homes. They took whatever offerings the SAU gave them and built what they could. There were some genius carpenters and builders within the Packs, but even they couldn’t magically produce equipment that didn’t exist.
And because he had the door open, Oliver’s scent filled the home quickly as the large grizzly bear in human form lumbered inside to watch his sister get her mating tattoo.
“Oliver!” Anya called out with a smile. Still carrying Lucas, she left her lazy cat mate to Gibson’s devices and moved toward her brother. “You came. I didn’t think you would.” She cupped her brother’s face and that big bushy beard of his, and though Gibson couldn’t see her features, he knew she would look worried.
She always looked worried when it came to Oliver.
“I just needed a nap, Anya,” Oliver growled. And though Gibson’s attention was on Cole’s arm, he could still watch out of his periphery as Oliver picked Lucas from Anya’s arms and lifted Owen up from the floor. The large man held both bear cubs in his embrace and looked like he did it every day.
Of course, he probably did.
Since there weren’t that many buildings to house every new member of the compound, people were forced to double up on families. However, since Oliver was the Foreseer—a member of great distinction and sacrifice—he had a house for his family alone.
Gibson also lived alone since he resided in his tiny studio. It was hard enough to do tattoos for people who might not want them without other people looking on. Though he hated when others came in with their newly healed brands and looks of defeat in their eyes. T
hankfully, it had been a while since he’d seen that since the adults had been branded years ago. Now those that came in had been born into a world where it was part of their rites of passage.
One day, things would be different. They had to be.
Gibson finished up Cole’s ink and went through aftercare instructions. Though they were different than the instructions he’d give to a human since they were shifters and could heal quickly. Oddly enough, the only human he’d ever had to tattoo was Holden’s mate, Ariel, and she hadn’t been fully human at the time. She’d been the first human transformed into a shifter since the Verona Virus had hit the world and the shifters’ secrets had become paramount. Claire, a wolf who had wanted Holden for her own, had broken the Pack’s trust when she’d told the SAU of their ability to create shifters, not just birth them.
Her betrayal had started the path to redemption and fundamental change they were on. His Pack had changed dramatically in the past few months, and Gibson could only hope it was for the better.
When Anya sat down in his chair after Gibson had cleaned up the area, his wolf was on edge. Oliver hadn’t left his spot near the door as the cubs napped in his large arms. There was something soothing and yet off-putting for Gibson in the sight of such a large man in a flannel shirt even in this heat, decently tight jeans, and two cubs in his arms. He carried them as if they weighed nothing, and yet Gibson knew the two kids were heavier than they looked in that form.
He hated that he couldn’t keep his focus when Oliver was in the room. Of course, if he were truly honest with himself, it wasn’t just Oliver who did that to him. There was another, as well.
There was truly something wrong with his line of thinking if the two people who couldn’t be more wrong for him were the ones that finally let his wolf come out of hiding.
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