Book 2 Not his Werewolf

by Annie Nicholas

  “Why?” Ken tensed. She could sense the muscles in his body as if spring-loaded. He wouldn’t attack his best friend, would he?

  Betty stroked his head, turning his gaze to hers. “She was trying to help me connect with my shifter side.”

  “By beating on you?” He sounded so flabbergasted. The heat of her blood rushing to her face made her cheeks ache. She’d been silly to agree, Betty saw that now, but she was so desperate to shift.

  “It might have worked if not for the rats.” Angie shuddered.

  Betty twisted to face Angie. “You do realize you’re a dragon, right? They’re much smaller than you.”

  “So are spiders but you won’t see me touching one.” She pointed at Eoin. “You promised to take care of the rodent problem a week ago. Why am I still running into those-those things?”

  “A week? That’s like five minutes in dragon time.” Eoin crossed his arms.

  “For the last time, there is no such thing as dragon time!” Angie pushed past Ken and poked Eoin, who was twice her size, in the abdomen. “Why is there a vampire named Victor chained in our basement—?”

  “—dungeon.”

  Angie made a horrified noise. “We don’t need a dungeon. We’re not in the middle ages!”

  Ken climbed the stairs, ignoring the fighting dragons and Victor’s crazy laughter. “I should have never left you alone with dragons.” Ken strode out of the castle and set her by his car. He ran his hands over her face and limbs. “Where does it hurt the most?”

  She scratched behind his ear and he immediately leaned into it. “I’m fine. All my injuries are superficial.” He took such care in examining her face, which still pulsed with her heartbeat. “Does my nose look broken?”

  He shook his head. “Your eyes are swelling though. Did she punch you in the face?”

  “Ken…”

  “I can’t believe she hit you.” He slammed his hand down on the roof of his car. “I thought she was my friend.”

  “She is.” Oh no, she didn’t want to come between their friendship. “She asked me first.”

  “And you agreed?” His ears laid flat on his head. “What possessed you?”

  “She thought if I was attacked I might shift to defend myself.” Betty shrugged. It might have worked if not for the rats. She doubted Ken would ever leave her alone with Angie again.

  He growled. “That’s a myth. I can’t believe that story is still circulating. She could have killed you.”

  “I know,” she whispered. How could she explain her heart’s desire to someone who already had everything she wanted? Ken had it all. Shifting, position, and-and pack. If he lost it all, maybe then he’d understand the lengths she was willing to go to be considered a werewolf.

  It wasn’t like she was pure human with grandiose ideas of being a supernatural. Half of her genetic make-up was shifter. Why couldn’t she have inherited the gene to change shape? She had everything else. Even the sacred soulmate.

  Ken opened his trunk and rummaged inside.

  She stared at the old castle. Evening shadows crept up the walls. It was later than she’d thought. Time flew when your life was threatened. Ivy grew on the closest tower and reached high to the roof. A bird flew into a broken window. The place was almost as bad as the building she rented. Maybe the eviction was a blessing in disguise. The push she needed to move on.

  If she left New Port, if she left Ken, they’d all be safe.

  When he returned, he pulled her to him, having dressed in workout clothes. His gaze seemed only fractionally less insane with rage. He kissed her, and she didn’t care that the stubble shadowing his chiseled jaw rasped her bruised face. All she focused on was the kiss. The force of his love as he claimed her.

  He grew more demanding, pressing their mouths together as if he was dying of thirst and she, the last drink of water.

  She flinched. She couldn’t help it. Angie had a good left hook and Betty’s lips were bruised.

  He pulled back and ran his thumb softly under her eyes. “Let’s take care of this.” He opened the passenger side door and helped her inside.

  Betty could still smell his fury but it faded as they drove from the castle. She didn’t know her way home from here, but as they passed manicured lawns and single family homes, she realized they weren’t heading for the rescue.

  “Is this where you live?” She’d heard of neighborhoods like this, seen them on television, but had believed they were a myth. She leaned against the window, staring at the perfect gardens and jogging paths. A place where she dreamed of living as a child.

  The mystical suburbs.

  Her family had always lived in the heart of the city so when she’d moved it had seemed natural to remain urban.

  “My house is on the next block.” He turned the corner.

  House. That seemed expensive for a single guy. “Do you still live with your dad?”

  He eyed her like she’d grown a second head. “I don’t have a death wish. I’m his beta. He kicked me out as soon as I won that position.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Sixteen.”

  She gasped. In human society, it would have been illegal to toss a teenager out on his own, but not in a pack. It was rare for someone so young to gain a position that high. When Ken had, he had to prove he could take care of himself. If not, then how could he care for the pack? “Was your dad allowed to help?”

  “The pack agreed he could pay for my college. Until then I had to work to support myself until I finished high school.” He winked. “I have grandparents. My grandma always made sure I was well fed. I’m sure the groceries that magically appeared in my fridge came from Ryota.” He glanced at her. “Don’t look so shocked. It’s a territory thing. I’m Ryota’s biggest rival, if that makes more sense for you. Sticking us under the same roof is just asking for trouble. My moving out saved our relationship.”

  “I understand the logistics, but it must have been hard.”

  “I take it you didn’t socialize with many top hunters in the pack?”

  “No, my dad ranks in the middle somewhere. He never cared about power.”

  Ken pulled up to a white house nestled on the edge of the forest. The setting sun sparkled on the windows and the walls glowed with warmth. A picket fence surrounded the manicured lawn. He even had a flower garden. “Everything here is mine. No gifts. I earned every blade of grass.”

  She pried her gaze from his home and met his curious stare.

  “You like it?” He almost seemed shy. “I don’t invite anyone here except family.”

  “A territory thing?” He probably peed on his border.

  Instinct rode dominant werewolves hard. If not, there would be chaos. The dominants kept the others in line. New Port was a fine place to live as a shifter because Ryota and Ken kept a tight leash on their pack mates, unlike what she remembered from Riverbend. The old alpha had struggled to control his shifters. It had caused a rift between the pack and everyone else in the city. She’d heard things were mending under the new alpha.

  “It’s beautiful, Ken.” She got out of the car and leaned against the side.

  Ken joined her. His home wasn’t what she had expected. She hadn’t had a picture in her head, but he was a bachelor. Maybe something less suburban?

  The tension seemed to melt from Ken’s face and shoulders as he inhaled the air. No, she was wrong. This did suit him.

  His gaze traveled over his property with a possessive passion. She’d seen this look on him as he had looked at her. He sighed. “Home.” That word held power. For an orphan, it probably was magical. Ken bore the responsibility of beta all the time, except here. This place was his haven.

  The sounds of barking reached her ears. She instinctively turned toward the noise.

  “Want to meet my dogs?”

  “Do I!” She tugged him toward the house.

  Inside, they were greeted by his small canine pack, ranging in size from a puppy lap dog to a German shepherd.

  H
e introduced each one by name.

  They met her with such enthusiasm, licking and yipping. For recent strays, they were quite friendly. It spoke of Ken’s nature that these animals were so happy and trusting. They knew their master would protect them.

  He led them to the back door and set the dogs out in the yard to play. “I’ll get an ice pack. That swelling looks worse.”

  She fingered her lip. It felt worse, too, and she tried not to imagine how she looked. After sitting on the leather couch in the living room, she fingered the new looking side table. She’d never owned anything new or this pretty. Blood smeared where her fingertips touched. Well, shit, no wonder she didn’t own anything nice.

  He sat next to her, so close he pinned her to the corner, and gently pressed the ice pack to her injury.

  “I made a mess.” She mumbled past the compress and pointed to the table.

  He shrugged. “I’ll clean it later.” He eyed her face, caressing every injury with the heat of new fury. “I can’t believe Angie hit you. She’s a dragon. She could have done some serious damage.”

  “I can’t believe you took on a vampire. They could do some serious damage too.” Talking with an ice pack to her lip took some serious skills. Vampires were stronger than shifters. She’d experienced it firsthand less than an hour ago. She knew how strong Victor was and Ken had flung him like a rag doll.

  He snorted. “There are only two people who make me nervous—Ryota and Eoin.”

  She ran her fingers through his hair, recalling how he’d come to her rescue. “My big, strong shifter.” She could get used to being the damsel in distress. It was a nice change to be the one rescued.

  He made a pleased noise in his throat. “I’d never let anything happen to you.” His brow furrowed and she could smell the acidic smell of fear. “I don’t want to think about what would have happened if I arrived a few minutes later.”

  She stroked his hair. Her throat tight. She didn’t want to think about it either. It would have been an epic explosion of violence between her mate, the black dragon of New Port, and an insane vampire. Not to mention the destruction of his friendship with Angie.

  Pushing the ice pack away, she changed the subject, not wanting him to dwell on bad things. “I think your home is beautiful.”

  “Do you really like it?”

  She played with his silken strands. “Yes.” It was something out of a dream.

  “Then it’s yours.”

  She laughed, “Just like that?”

  He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her scraped palm. “Yes.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “I want you to live here and do whatever you want to the place. It’s your home now.”

  “But you’re going to stay with me, right?” It sounded stupid as she said it but part of her was still waiting for him to leave.

  “You’ll never be rid of me, Betty.”

  Tugging his hair, she pulled him close enough to brush her bruised mouth over his. “Promise.” That came out needier than she wanted it to, but Ken was asking her to hand over her battered heart on a silver platter. She was drowning and he was extending a lifesaver. If she grabbed it, she wasn’t going to let go.

  He buried his nose against her neck and inhaled. A possessive growl followed. “If I were you, I’d be more worried about ever trying to escape me.”

  She closed her eyes as his heavy body pressed her into the couch. “Why would I ever want to do that?” She could sense his lips spread into a smile against her skin. “Mr. Birch, you seem to have me trapped in a compromising position.”

  “Am I hurting you?” He jerked away, taking away his comforting weight.

  She sighed. “No, silly. I’m flirting with you.” She undid the top button of his shirt, then the second.

  “Oh.” His gaze followed her fingers. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “Let me consider my options.” She finished unfastening his shirt and admired his defined chest and abs. “Hmm…nice.”

  Ken cupped her left breast over her T-shirt and squeezed. “Nice.”

  She laughed and trailed her fingers lower to his jeans.

  His hand moved lightning quick and covered hers. “You’re hurt.”

  “I am hurt.” She nipped at his jawline in shifter playfulness. “And you’re hot. Let an injured girl indulge.”

  He blew out a long breath before releasing her hand. “Be gentle.” He rolled off, lying next to her, hands behind his head.

  She made a satisfied noise and sat up straighter. “Where was I?”

  He pointed to his zipper.

  “Oh yeah.” She brushed the fastening with her fingertips, sensing the hard package beneath.

  This shifter belonged to her?

  Ken closed his eyes, fisting his hand before he tucked it behind his head again. She loved the way he reacted to the simplest of her touches. His chest heaved as if he struggled for air.

  She kissed his breast bone while undoing his pants. “Are you okay? Do I need to call nine-one-one?”

  “Only if you want to put out the fire in my pants.”

  She chuckled and slipped her hand under the waistband of his boxers. “Why would I want that?” Betty caught his gaze with her own. Instinct kicked in and she lowered her chin. Like her father, she didn’t care about power and wasn’t very dominant unless her family was threatened.

  Ken caught her chin and lifted her gaze back. His expression had grown serious. “You don’t ever have to look away. Not with me.”

  Leaning forward, she stared into his luminous golden eyes and stroked his cock.

  He hissed on contact, the muscles in his neck straining.

  “What are you thinking?” She continued touching him, faster and faster.

  He groaned. “All the things I want to do to you.” He thrust his hips. “Betty…”

  “Mmm?”

  His back arched. “Faster.”

  She leaned by his ear and breathed out, “Show me.”

  With his thumbs, he shimmied his jeans and boxers off his hips then pressed his hand over Betty’s, showing exactly how he needed her to stroke him. He still had her gaze captured. Lips parted, eyes smoldering, and her—the center of his universe.

  The oxygen in the room seemed suddenly thin as if Ken had used all of it. His gaze was so intense. He wanted all of her. Heart, body, and soul. Could she give him everything?

  He cupped her cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”

  She leaned forward. Kissing him. Taking his mouth. Claiming him. He was willing to give it all to her. He was so open and trusting as if he just knew she’d never hurt him. Why couldn’t she do the same?

  He moaned into their kiss, tangling his fingers into her hair as he climaxed.

  Betty trailed small, tender kisses over his cheeks and up along his forehead, lingering slowly on each one while Ken caught his breath.

  With a content sigh, he slipped his hands under the hem of her shirt. “Your turn.”

  “You did me yesterday.”

  He grinned. “This isn’t tit for tat. I need to touch you, be inside you.” He cupped her breasts over her bra and gave her a very serious look. “These need to be set free.”

  She rose slowly to her feet, playing with the hem of her shirt and teasing him with a peek of her abdomen. “You have any music?”

  “You’re going to dance for me?”

  “Maybe.”

  He grabbed some tissues from a box on the side table and cleaned up before pulling on his jeans. “Let me find—” Ken’s cell phone chimed. He went still and glanced at Betty.

  “A beta’s job is never done.” She sighed. “Answer it.”

  He read the text message and his fierce growl took her by surprise.

  She retreated a step. “What is it?” Ken looked on the verge of shifting.

  “I’ve been challenged.”

  Nothing could have shocked her more. Ken was a great beta and so powerful. Who would dare challenge her mate?

&nb
sp; She blinked as the thought finished. Wow. She had it bad. “Who? When?”

  “Tonight and I won’t know until I get there, but I’ve got an inkling as to who. This time I’ll put him in traction for a month.”

  Chapter Twenty

  That asshole Joshua hadn’t even waited twenty-four hours after his and Ken’s conversation to file an official challenge. Joshua would make a terrible beta. No formal education, no patience, and no tact. How did he think he could assist Ryota in running the pack? If anything, Ryota would kill him to be rid of the problem.

  Ken didn’t like killing, but tonight he might have a change of heart. He needed a secure position in the pack to make a solid claim for Betty. She needed more time to learn to shift. As a strong beta, he could push for this. Otherwise, they’d be chased out of the city.

  In the distance, the shifter challenge arena loomed over his car as they drew closer.

  Every shifter group in New Port, be it a wolf pack or cat pride or bear sleuth, paid a tithe to the challenge arena for maintenance. There were no ticket sales. All people were welcome to bear witness. Ken had convinced the shifter community to sell food during challenges to help lower costs and create part-time jobs for some college kids.

  The parking lot was full. A high-level fight like this would fill the place, but there was a crowd surrounding the building. More people than any challenge he’d seen.

  Betty’s head swiveled back and forth. “I’ve never seen this place so crowded.”

  “You’ve come to challenges before?” He and she had come so close to meeting and always he’d somehow missed finding her.

  “Of course, but I avoided the pack ones. Too close to my heart, but the last tiger one was amazing. The way Nora flipped Cheta against the cage wall, bending the poles. That was full of awesome sauce.”

  “You’re a tiger fan?” He chuckled. Of course, his fierce little wolf would be.

  “Dude, I have an autograph book that I started as a kid.” She blew on her nails and shined them on her shirt. “I have Nora’s.”

  The knot of tension in his gut loosened as he laughed.