Shattered Strength
Shadowcrest Pack Series Book Two
B. Livingstone
Copyright © 2020 B. Livingstone
In USA
All rights reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced/transmitted/distributed in any form. No part of this publication shall be shared by any means including photocopying, recording, or any electronic/mechanical method, or the Internet, without prior written consent of the author. Cases of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law are the exception. The unauthorized reproduction/transmitting of this work is illegal. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Formatted By: Purrfectly Haunting Formatting
“We may not be able to control what happens to us, but we can control how we respond to it and how it affects us.”
-Cree
Contents
Description
Glossary
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
Epilogue
Death’s Gift
Sneak Peek
Stalk Me
Also by B. Livingstone
About the Author
Description
One bada** Alpha She-Wolf.
Five hot as sin shifter mates.
A newly undead sister.
And of course, one sadistic POS set on revenge.
My life has changed in rapid succession over the last few weeks. My mates found me, though I still don’t know how I feel about that. My very dead sister came back to the land of the living with a dire warning. And the man who haunts my darkest nightmares is hunting me, determined to finish what he started. Fan-freaking-tastic!
My only option is to train. Not only to strengthen my mind, body, and soul, but to reconnect with my wolf as well. Gods, I just hope it’s enough.
Shattered Strength is book two of three in the Shadowcrest Pack Series. This is a reverse harem, paranormal romance featuring one female with five males; that is a slow/medium burn series containing M/M and M/F/M/M/M/M sexual themes suitable for +18 audience. This book does end on a cliffhanger. Trigger Warnings: This book includes sexual assault, physical abuse and violence, PTSD, a history with substance abuse, and of course swearing.
Glossary
Irish Slang/Translation: English
Bang on: Right, accurate, correct
Eejit: complete fool
Mo chroí: my heart
Grá: love
Mo grá: my love
Slán a fhágáil, tabhair aire: Goodbye, take care
Is leatsa mo chroí go dtí an buille deireanach. Is leatsa m'anam go deo.:
My heart is yours until its last beat. My soul is yours forever.
Prologue
Riley
“Grace? Really… You… I don’t understand how I’m seeing you. I’m not asleep. That’s… Why? Fucking hell, I swear I’m not dreaming. It's not fucking possible,” I trip, stumble, and mutter, unable to get my head wrapped around what I’m seeing. Wild, with a childish grin on his face, is still holding my hand. Giving it a squeeze with just a little bit of extra pressure. The slight pain radiating through my hand shows me it’s true. I’m really not asleep and Grace is really fucking here. Of all the things, she stands not five feet from me. All 5’4” petiteness of her. Dirty blonde hair that hangs to her waist and her piercing amethyst eyes trained on me. Her eyes are bright with life and her smile is one of longing and joy. I don’t understand. I’m completely lost in this moment. Knowing she’s here, she's alive.
Coming back to reality, I stand from the couch and run full force into Grace, knocking us both to the floor. We start to laugh as she clutches me tight. As though she’s never held me before, or she’s afraid one of us will slip away. Unable to breathe from the tight hold she has on me, I enfold her just as tightly in my arms, refusing to ever let go again.
“Grace, I can’t believe you’re fucking here. How? Why?” My mind is still reeling from this revelation, and my tongue is tied from the shock, causing me to continuously stumble over my words. Sitting up, I cup her face in my hands and study her eyes. I can feel my wolf slowly approaching the surface, wanting to peek out and inspect the person in front of me. When my eyes change to those of the wolf, Grace gives her a small encouraging smile. My wolf’s soul connects with Grace’s just as they did when Grace was a child. Continuing to push forward, she wants to transform and climb in Grace’s lap so Grace can run her fingers through her fur. A sense of peace washes over me and I gasp from the realness of it. “Oh my fucking Gods, you really are here,” I sob and wrap her in my arms again.
Tears are running down both our faces now. This was a day I never thought possible. Being sober in every sense of the word is fucking with my emotions, sending them off in all directions — high, low, and every space in between.
“I am here, Riles. I really am here, alive and stronger than ever.” Taking both my hands in hers, she takes a deep breath like she’s bracing for something earth shattering. “I know you have a million questions, Riley. I promise you I will answer every single one of them, in time. Now though, we need to have a vastly different conversation, one about Alastair.” Her face transforms into that of a hardened warrior. I have never seen my sister look so serious, except when she was reprimanding me for my poor choices.
“This is serious, isn’t it?” I inquire, glancing around the room at all my guys. No, not my guys. Not the time, Riley. Stay focused. Each guy meets my eyes with a look of sympathy, everyone except Wild. He’s eyeing Grace with an expression I can’t define. Looking at her, she’s eyeing him just the same. As if they’re holding a silent conversation the rest of us are not privy to.
“It is. It’s life-altering serious, Riles. I’m really sorry.” Her voice expresses the seriousness of what she has to say, but also holds a hint of regret as well.
Aw, hell. Not again.
Killian
Alastair hangs up the phone with his spy in Riley’s camp and turns to me. “We need a flight to Vancouver, taking off yesterday.”
“For how many, sir?”
“Five. A small group to start. I’m unsure of what we’re walking into and I don’t want to give us away before it’s time.”
“Yes, sir,” I reply before turning and heading for the door.
“Make sure it lands in a private airfield. No paper trails. If we’re found out it’ll be your head I take,” Alastair yells out as I head down the hall towards my office. I heed that warning for the promise it is. The man may be 54 years old but he’s built like a tank and as lethal today as I heard he was in his twenties and ten times more conniving.
Slipping inside, I make my way to the floor to ceiling bookshelf and remove my Harry Potter Special Edition Chest Collection Set. Really badass, right. It was the only collection big enough to hide what I needed. Hidden behind it is a small safe. Disengaging the lock, quickly and quietly, I open the door and remove the burner phone stashed inside. Opening my message center, I type out a short m
essage to my contact in Vancouver.
Hey man, quick heads up. Alastair plus four others are headed your way.
After hitting send and powering off the phone, I place it back in the safe, close the door and re-engage the lock.
Alastair
I’ve been in Vancouver nearly a week now. A fucking long-ass week at that. Attempting to keep my arrival here a secret while still hunting for a 26-year-old girl. This is not my idea of a good time. No, my idea of a good time would be tying said girl to my four-poster bed and making her suffer for all the shit she caused when she took off. Having to explain to the elders and pack about her disappearance without my involvement causing suspicion was no easy feat, considering how vocal she was concerning her ascension to alpha. Then there is the pain she caused my wolf with the loss of our eye. My wolf wants recompense for that little act of defiance. He shall have it and then some.
Riley was supposed to be mine all those years ago. Mark my words, she still will be. I don’t care how many “mates” she surrounds herself with now, from what I hear she’s up to five now. Whore. She’s mine, and they will suffer for touching what is mine.
Besides, I have a spy inside her camp, a man behind enemy lines; one that would not dare to defy me. Of course it’s been a week since I have received an update from him. I know the game he’s playing, trying to dictate our arrangement. I am not one to be trifled with, a lesson he will quickly learn.
Riley has no idea the hell she is about to unleash upon herself and those around her.
Standing across the street, I spot a slender woman with fiery red hair walking out of a gym. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I pull up the photo my spy sent last week.
Her. My wolf spots his prey, readying himself to pounce.
Not yet, it’s not time, I tell him. If we want her to suffer for what she did to us, we need to be patient and follow the plan. Don’t worry, you’ll have your fun with her.
Chapter One
Riley
It’s been three fucking weeks since that meeting in the living room. Grace is fucking alive. That little nugget of information still blows my mind. Unfortunately, she had to move on again. No, fuck, not dead, just out of town. She has some quest or mission or something she has to do in order to help me in the fight to get my fucking pack back. To help us get our home back.
The guys have been a little clingy, if not obsessive at times. Which is completely understandable being they are shifters with overinflated alter egos. Our animals can be a bit aggressive, especially when it comes to our mates. While I’m not ready to call them my mates, they take every opportunity to remind me what they feel towards me. If I’m being honest, it’s kind of nice to be wanted in that way. And even though I still have them in the “friend zone,” our show of affection for each other has increased to new levels, but they don’t push me for more than I am ready to give them right now. True gentlemen.
The guys ensure one of them is around me at all times. I guess it’s to make sure I don’t backslide and start drinking or using again. Gods, the excuses they come up with to stop by are childish at times, but still endearing and heartwarming. Ones like, “Oh I thought you could use a gallon of milk,” or “I noticed you needed a loaf of bread,” or my favorite, “Here, I’ve got some work for you to do.” That one comes from the surly bear, Cree, when he stops by with the bar's account books. He has never really accepted me leaving the bar. After watching me for over two months, Cree has developed a sort of mother hen mentality.
Since I can’t go to the bar, he’s taken it upon himself to bring me his books at least twice a week to log invoices, payroll, and other expenses. In truth, though, we both know it’s to please his bear and because he’s a controlling fucker. I honestly find the whole thing endearing and really don’t mind the guys being here. My wolf is more at ease when they’re around. When I’m alone, all I can do is think; think about the past, the present, and the future. Not to mention my dreams, as of late, have been rather disturbing.
Standing in a large open field, the ground is littered with the bodies of dead wolves. White wolves, black wolves, brown wolves, and one lone red wolf. Standing across the field along the tree line is Alastair. He’s wearing a knowing grin on his face, one hand in his pocket, and the other holds what looks to be a dagger dripping with blood. In the sky above a large shadow flies overhead, while a war cry sounds from the overgrown woods behind me. Shadows begin to emerge from between the trees, as a large group of animals descend on the open field. Howls, growls, and roars shake the ground under me as my front paws hit the grassy floor.
It’s been the same dream every night for a week, what it means I can’t figure out. What or who was the shadowed figure flying overhead? Who were the animals coming out of the forest, where did they come from, are they shifters? What was with the dagger? Lastly, who were all those dead wolves? I have so many questions and no way to answer them all. Somehow though, I believe Grace may have a few of these answers I seek, if only I could reach her.
A knock sounds from my door, shaking me from my reverie. “It’s been three weeks, Cree, are you telling me you still haven’t hired another bookkeeper?” I shout as I head towards my front door.
“How’d you know it was me?” Cree asks with a hint of awe in his voice as I open the door and give him a good once over. Gods, this man is sex on a stick. Today he’s rocking his “bad-boy biker vibe” attire, with his black leather harness riding boots, dark denim jeans mostly covered by black leather braided chaps, a white t-shirt, and finished with his Allstate black leather jacket I picked out for him last week. Then there is his hair. Oh Gods, that hair. Long, dark brown, silky locks, pulled back with a leather tie that I want to snap, so I can run my fingers through it.
Fuck, I really need to get laid.
Mate. My wolf pants in my head and I swear she licks her chops.
Oh, I agree he is pant worthy. But still not going there.
Gathering myself, I finally reply, “You five have been stalking me for weeks now. I’ve learned the difference in the way you all walk and how you knock on the door.”
“That’s impressive, Riley,” Cree states while welcoming himself into my apartment, placing a kiss on my cheek as he passes by me.
“Please, come in,” I snark, though I’m swooning in my head.
“Why thank you, my dear. I do believe I will,” he replies with a grin and a chuckle. This is new as well, Cree, grinning and laughing. I’m not completely convinced I’m not in a coma somewhere. It would explain a lot.
Mates happy. I smile at my wolf because I know she’s right. Regardless of what is coming, they are happy. Surprisingly, so am I. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this light and free.
They are happy, aren’t they? We are too. We are… happy, aren’t we? Concern filling my chest as I plead with my wolf for an answer.
Silly girl. Happy. She confirms
Good. Unbelievably good. With a grin, I turn and close the apartment door.
“Okay, Cree. Show me what you brought.” I call out heading into the kitchen where I find Cree with papers scattered across my kitchen table. “Good Gods, man, did you bring your entire office?”
Cree just chuckles at me as he hands me a water and I set to work.
I scream and jump from my seat when large, strong, warm hands descend on my shoulders. With my nose in Cree’s books, I didn’t hear the knock at the door, nor notice when someone walked into the kitchen. Spinning on my heels, Reed catches my fist that is flying towards his face.
“Easy, kitten,” he chuckles.
“Kitten? Really? For that, you ought a get a punch to the face,” I sneer. “What time is it?”
“Dinner time, babe. You’ve been working on those books for the last four hours,” Cree calls from the living room.
“Well, shit,” I exclaim, checking my watch, “I didn’t realize so much time has flown by. Do we have plans tonight? I assume you all are joining me again.” Wouldn’t surprise me, they have been for
the past three weeks, almost every night. Removing my glasses, I place them on the table next to the records and receipts I had been working on.
Reed smiles his prince charming smile at me. Yep, he’s got plans. “First, we’re taking you on a date,” he asserts, trying to hide any hint of excitement.
Wait a minute, did he just say we? “What do you mean by ‘we’?” He couldn’t possibly mean all of them.
“Yes, Riley. I mean all of us,” he casually says as my eyes widen and he chuckles again, “and yes, you did say that out loud.”
“Fuck,” I utter under my breath.
“That too,” he laughs. “Second, since when do you wear glasses?”
“Those old things? I only wear them when I’ll be reading for a long period of time. Other than that I don’t usually need them. Why?”
“They’re fucking sexy as hell,” Reed remarks. Picking up my glasses, he slides them over my eyes before adding, “I’m getting hot teacher and sexy librarian vibes.”
“Not happening, Reed,” I announce as I spin on my heels and trek down the hall towards my bedroom, removing my glasses. The sound of his booming chuckles follow closely behind me.
“Wear something sexy,” Cree announces loudly, “just not too sexy. We don’t want others looking at you, or I’ll have to kill them. On second thought, just wear jeans and a hoodie. One of mine should be hanging in your closet.”
Shattered Strength: Shadowcrest Pack Series Book Two Page 1