Wild Harts: Rockstar Shifters Box Set

by Lily Cahill

  Drew’s Uncle Mac had agreed to act as regent to the Western Clans until one of the four Hart brothers took up the helm of chieftain, but none of them wanted it. Drew had lived in constant fear of his father, and being the oldest he’d taken some of the most horrific beatings. At fourteen, he’d convinced his mother to flee for her own safety, but she died not long after that, and Drew was left alone to shelter his younger brothers and fend off his father. It’d been a mercy when Errol Hart was finally deposed and exiled from clan territory.

  But the man was still alive, out in the wilds roaming as man or bear. Honestly, Drew didn’t want to think of it. He’d left Montana behind years ago—first for college followed by grad school, then as a member of Wild Harts after Kirsten had left him. Over the past couple years, he’d truly grown to like the life he’d made for himself away from Montana and the seat of clan power.

  “Drew?” Jax’s voice brought Drew back from where he’d retreated deep into his own mind.

  “We can’t wait much longer to make a decision on who will lead the clans. If they’ll still have us.”

  Jax frowned. “Would it be so bad if the Harts ceded power? It hasn’t done our family much good.”

  Drew sighed. He wished that were an option. He really did. “I’m afraid it’d send everything into chaos. Maybe if the Southern Clans were more stable or if everything hadn’t gone down with Derek, but our forebears worked hard to achieve the peace we have. We shifters live comfortably, our alliances are strong. But what would happen if the wider world learned about us? We can’t let that happen.”

  The problem was, Drew knew the most obvious answer. He just didn’t want to acknowledge it. It should be he who returned to Montana and accepted the chieftain title. But the thought of it made his stomach sour and his blood curdle.

  Drew turned away from his brothers, not wanting them to see the pain in his eyes. He heard soft padding, then a softer hand on his arm. He turned to see Tiff looking up at him with a sad smile.

  “Tea,” she said, like a doctor writing a prescription. Tiff was always trying to feed them or get tea into them when anyone was upset.

  Drew smiled gratefully at her, and she nodded toward the kitchen. Her hand fell from his arm to rest on top of her swelling belly. There was a little shifter in there, due in just two months. He didn’t want his niece or nephew to grow up in a world where shifters weren’t at peace.

  But right now, tea wasn’t what he needed to soothe his troubled soul.

  “Thanks, Tiff,” he said, and he meant it. “But what I need right now isn’t at the bottom of a cup.”

  He grabbed keys off the hallway table and chose a truck from the underground garage. Drew put his foot down and pointed the truck toward the rugged coastal hills.

  The sun was just a memory when Drew finally parked. Overhead, streaks of orange were fading fast to purple and black—a bruise smudged over the western horizon.

  Drew slammed the door of the pickup and breathed deep. The scent of dirt and tress, of animals and the sea was pulled deep into his lungs. The ebb and flow of life, of growing things winnowed into his being. He’d always felt more at home in nature than in any city. The buildings and concrete were stifling, and too long in a city made him twitchy and quick to anger.

  Head swiveling, Drew surveyed the area to make sure he was alone. He’d pulled off at a small trailhead deep in the scrubby canyons north of Pacific Palisades. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do. Most importantly, it was deserted.

  Drew hiked a dozen yards off the marked trail, forging his way through bushes and over loose rock. Then, when he couldn’t wait any longer, he let the transformation take hold. His bear pressed and expanded through him, waking up with a satisfied roar.

  Drew dropped to all fours, relishing in the feeling of his body changing, taking on something giant and powerful. As a human, Drew was formidable. As a bear, he was like something out of legend. His bear was massive, with paws that could rip down trees and broad shoulders that could move boulders like they were mere pebbles. His coat was dark like his hair, streaked through in places with lighter brown. Muscles bunched and rippled up his four thick limbs, and he shook his giant muzzle back and forth. He ran his tongue approvingly over his wickedly sharp teeth and let loose a primal roar.

  The canyon around him went silent, even the night crickets subdued by the new power in their wilderness.

  With a powerful leap, he took off running. What Drew lacked in flat-out speed, he made up for with brute strength and stamina. Bret and Chase were faster than him as bears, but Drew possessed the sort of power that made his brothers always fall in line.

  The canyon was nearly black with night, but Drew ran on. His ears picked up the sound of small things scrabbling in the dirt, running from the predator in their midst. But Drew didn’t have a need to hunt—he needed to run. He needed to run until his mind cleared and he could see the right path.

  Did he pursue Nina? Or did he ignore her and try to pretend he hadn’t locked on his mate? And what the ever-living fuck did he do about the vacant chieftain spot—the one that, though no one said a word, was assumed to be his to deny.

  He didn’t know what the hell to do, and he hated it. So he kept running.

  A terrible scream rent the night air, and Drew wheeled around. His shoulders hunched up, and his sharp eyes flicked over the woods around him. There was a river close by, a waterfall upstream. The scream pierced the air again, and Drew lurched around on his powerful back legs just as a cougar sprang at him.

  Its maw was open wide in the scream, its teeth glinting in the rising moonlight. Drew swerved out of the way of the teeth and rammed his massive shoulder into the cat’s side. The thing was giant, its coat glossy and sand-colored. How long had it been stalking him? Drew had been too caught up in his own mind to realize another predator was in these woods tonight.

  The cat snarled and scrabbled in the dirt, facing off against Drew with a low growl. Drew answered with a warning sound. He didn’t want to kill this creature, but he’d do it if he had to. The cat pounced, one wicked paw swiping through the air. Drew batted the creature’s giant paw away with his massive forelimb and rammed the cat again, but it was a fierce thing. It swiveled and swiped again, and Drew just got out of the way in time.

  Drew roared—a tree-shaking sound that made birds alight from the limbs overhead—and surged forward. He knocked the cat aside with one powerful blow of his paw and clamped down on the scruff of the animal’s neck. He didn’t bite to kill, but he put enough force into it to yank the cat off the ground. He shook the giant animal back and forth in his jaw and then flung it away. It hit a tree trunk with a thwack and crumpled to the ground with a whine.

  Drew backed up, staring at the creature. It was hurt, but he suspected the cat’s pride was stinging more than its neck. Eyes on the cat, Drew grunted another warning growl and backed away. The cat didn’t move.

  Moving quick, he made for the river at his back and splashed in. The cool water washed the sweat of the fight from his pelt and calmed his heart. Now that he knew the cat was out there, he could smell her. He was in her territory, and he couldn’t blame her for protecting her land. He’d do the same.

  Sticking to the river, Drew loped down the banks of the rushing water until he could smell the tang of car exhaust from the canyon road. Drew sighed loudly—his run and time as a bear hadn’t helped him figure out the answer to his problems like he’d hoped.

  Disappointed, he shifted back to his human form and stumped toward the truck. Maybe ….

  It’d been a long time since he’d slept with a woman; months, if he really thought about it. Maybe he needed to satiate the jittery energy and unease in another way. Not as a bear, but as a man. He felt the need for release pent up inside of him, a dam ready to burst.

  Drew drove the truck down out of the rugged mountains and onto the Pacific Coast Highway. It was still busy this time of night, and he could only stand so much traffic before he veered off the road just outside
Venice. He turned randomly, looking for a bar that didn’t appear too trendy. Drew needed simple beer, simple food, and a hot woman to ease his troubled mind tonight.

  Finally, he found it. Down a narrow side street off Venice’s main drag, Drew spotted a low-slung bar with a vintage looking sign declaring it The Bronze. He pulled the truck into a spot and ambled inside.

  It was perfect—kind of deserted, but with a clientele who looked at ease in the space. It smelled like beer and fried food, and Drew’s stomach growled in approval. He nodded at the bartender wiping down glasses and surveyed the half-empty tables for a secluded spot.

  His eyes immediately found Nina.

  Chapter Three

  Nina

  NINA NEARLY CHOKED ON A cheese fry.

  What.

  The.

  Fuck.

  Drew Hart stared right at her, his vivid green eyes wide. Nina raised her eyebrows, then glared as the hulk of a man just stood there and stared. His hands curled into fists then relaxed just as suddenly, ropes of muscle bunching in his forearms.

  “What the hell is he doing here?” Nina hissed, finally dropping her gaze.

  “Who?” Beside her, Vanessa Jones slid her eyes toward the door. “Jesus Christ. I can smell the testosterone from here.”

  Nina rolled her eyes at her best friend and tried to ignore Drew, but she could feel his presence. It was like a bit of her was locked on him, watching his every movement even as she tried to pretend he wasn’t anywhere near her. It made her grimace with annoyance.

  Nina swallowed the lump of cheese fries and grabbed her tumbler of whiskey. She downed it in one go.

  “Whoever he is, I think he’s leaving,” Van said out the side of her mouth.

  Nina snapped her eyes back to Drew, her body betraying her. She reached for him, everything in her surging toward him. Fuck it. Before she could think better of it, Nina grumbled loudly and called out to him.

  Drew froze just at the door, the muscles in his neck and arms tensing and releasing again. Nina hated how sexy she found it, the power lying just under the surface of Drew’s calm demeanor.

  Except he wasn’t calm right now. As he turned back toward Nina, his eyes were a tumult of emotion and his jaw was tight.

  “Come on, then,” Nina said loudly. She hooked the toe of her black boot around the leg of a chair at the next table and dragged it closer. She motioned at the chair, then at the bartender, Clem, who was watching them closely. “Might as well get a drink with us.”

  Clem sauntered over with two whiskeys, neat, and slid them onto the small table. He eyed Drew, but didn’t say a word. Nina had been coming to The Bronze for years, and the old bartender could get protective. With a mutter about big, dumb idiots, Clem left them and went back to the bar.

  “Well?” Nina craned her neck to look up at Drew, who was hovering at their table in silence. “Don’t make me drink these on my own. This one”—she hitched a thumb toward Van—“isn’t drinking out of solidarity with her knocked up wife. It’s been a hell of a drag.”

  Van snorted and elbowed Nina in the ribs. They both knew Nina was family to Van and her partner, Amy. She’d already agreed to be godmother to their unborn baby.

  After another pause, Drew eased himself into the chair and leaned his elbows on the table, one giant paw of a hand curled around the tumbler. His jaw was still tight, and his eyes stayed focused on the amber liquid. Nina glanced at him, letting herself stare at his strong profile. Everything about him was strong—his nose was proud and straight, his chin angular. His dark hair was pulled back into a nub of a ponytail, and his red plaid shirt was rolled up his arms. He smelled of the wilderness—trees and soil.

  If she didn’t know Drew was a bassist in one of the most popular rock bands in the country, she’d think he was a mountain man. Nina wouldn’t mind getting outside with him, getting dirty with him.

  Nina pressed her thighs together to tamp down the betrayal of arousal that rose unbidden at her core. Damn it. She didn’t want to be attracted to a man like him. He was a shifter, for Christ’s sake.

  But God, she wouldn’t mind fucking this one. Nina nearly growled in anger and dipped her gaze back to the table. She’d fled all the way across the country to get away from shifters and their world, and yet here one was sitting in her favorite bar. No, not sitting. Glowering. She could feel the emotion rolling off him in waves.

  He was just like all the rest. He had to be. She might be attracted to him now, but there was no way a bear shifter was anything but a domineering, selfish asshole in bed. Nina had spent the last decade on short, casual relationships where she could be the dominant force. She had a feeling that wouldn’t be the case if she took Drew to bed.

  God, why was she even thinking about this? Silence stretched between them, awkward as hell and thick as tar.

  Nina wrenched her chin up and stared at the side of Drew’s face. He still hadn’t looked up from his drink, but he exuded a quiet power all the same. She wouldn’t let a shifter make her feel cowed.

  “So,” Van finally said. She stared between Nina and Drew. “Who are you?”

  Drew’s head jerked up. “Oh,” he finally said. His voice was deep and rich. It vibrated through Nina and did wonderfully awful things to the heat between her thighs. “I’m so sorry. Ms. Marten is writing about my band.”

  Van stifled a laugh. “She makes you call her Ms. Marten? How parochial of her.”

  Drew’s cheeks colored, but Nina spoke over whatever he was about to say.

  “Just call me Nina.” She turned to Van. “This is Drew Hart.”

  Van went very still, her eyebrows crawling high on her forehead. “No shit. You’re part of Wild Harts?”

  A minuscule smile tugged at one corner of Drew’s mouth. Nina was sure it’d be imperceptible if she hadn’t been watching the man so closely.

  “Yeah, I’m the bassist.”

  Van nodded knowingly. “The strong, silent one. I played a bit of bass in college.”

  Nina snorted in laughter. It was an embarrassing sound, but it loosened the tension that had clamped down on her body. “You tried out for that girl band to sleep with the lead singer, Van.”

  Van shrugged and pulled a piece of gooey cheese off the fries.

  Nina rounded on Drew, her eyebrows drawing together. “What are you doing here, exactly? Stalking the reporter won’t really get you guys good coverage.”

  Drew sucked in a breath, his gaze crashing into Nina. “I didn’t,” he sputtered. “I mean.” His left hand went tight around the tumbler, and he worried a bit of blue string tied onto his wrist—it was a gesture she’d also seen him do earlier. Nina just stared, waiting for her answer. Drew took a breath then looked directly at Nina. His green eyes were the color of spring grass. “I was just out driving. I get restless in cities, I guess. I just … I ended up here.”

  It didn’t make a damn bit of sense, this coincidence, but it was too late to tell him to leave. Even if his presence did make her feel horribly jumbled—a mix of annoyance and arousal. Nina cocked her head to the side, then flicked her eyes to the whiskey.

  “Well, then, you might as well drink up. I find that’s the best way to forget you’re stuck in a city.”

  A quizzical look contracted Drew’s dark, straight eyebrows, but then that same, private smile tugged at his lips. Nina lifted her tumbler in a toast. After a moment, Drew lifted his too. They clinked glasses in silence, then tipped the drinks to their lips.

  Drew slammed the empty tumbler down and held up two fingers toward the bartender.

  Nina had shucked off her jacket a while ago—around the same time Van had left. She was warm, the tips of her fingers fuzzy and her mind fairly sloshing. How much had they been drinking?

  Nina’s gaze careened toward Drew to find the giant man staring at her. His green eyes were bright, the pupils large and open. When she was younger, she’d heard it called bedroom eyes. Now, Nina preferred to think of them as “fuck me” eyes. Whatever you wanted to call it,
Nina wanted no part.

  That wasn’t exactly true. Her head told her not to get involved with Drew Hart, but her body had been thrumming with desire for the better part of the last couple hours. Nina shifted in her seat and tensed her thighs together. The movement just made her pussy throb.

  “Anyway,” Nina said loudly, like that could prove to her lust that she was keeping everything closed up tight. “I’ve been friends with Van ever since. We basically grew up together in LA.” Nina giggled—something she only did when highly drunk. Maybe she should lay off the whiskey. Well … after she finished the round Drew had just bought for them. “We’re just two girls living out our dreams in the big city.”

  Drew cocked an eyebrow. “Why do I have the suspicion that you’d slap anyone who called you a girl?”

  Nina sipped her whiskey and showed Drew her fist. “Not slap. Punch. I’ve worked too damn hard in a tough ass city to be called anything but a woman.”

  Drew sat back with a shake of his head. “That’s lucky, being on the same westward bus with a woman like Van. What’s the name of her jewelry line again?”

  “It’s more of a jewelry empire. You should see the clientele who clamor for her designs. It’s a veritable who’s who of Hollywood.”

  Drew shrugged. “I don’t really keep up with Hollywood.”

  Nina giggled again. “Don’t say that too loudly, or they’ll kick you out of town. Name is everything in this godforsaken place.”

  Drew’s features stilled as he regarded Nina. She fought the urge to squirm under his gaze. “You don’t really like it here, do you?”

  It was Nina’s turn to shrug. “It’s where the job is. And I do like my job, for the most part.”

  Nina stared at her empty glass, her sodden mind churning. The truth was, she’d felt restless the last few years, which was partly why she’d become so picky about who she agreed to cover. There was a half-finished manuscript hiding on her laptop and a vague notion of getting the hell out of LA altogether, but her dreams had always stayed wispy and ill-defined. Her life here in LA was concrete—it was defined by a great apartment and a recognized name that came with hard-fought respect. And, most of all, security. After the horror of her adolescence, Nina had vowed to never feel insecure again.