by Jenika Snow
Evernight Publishing
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2013 Jenika Snow
ISBN: 978-1-77130-499-3
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: Karyn White
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
To my family, friends, and readers. Thank you so much for all of your kind words and support. You will never know how much it means to me.
CLAIMING WHAT’S THEIRS
Jenika Snow
Copyright © 2013
Chapter One
She did it. She really left him. Tears blurred her vision as she maneuvered the Honda along the twisting and turning road. Jessa had no particular destination in mind, but getting as far away as possible from Paul was her first priority. She had been driving for the past three hours, yet her tears continued to flow. Her chest hurt from the wracking sobs, and her eyes felt swollen. She had sworn to herself never again, but like a damn fool she had believed his words, believed that he wouldn’t hurt her again.
“You stupid, foolish girl!” She wiped angrily at her tears and turned the steering wheel sharply to the left. The snow continued its steady assault on the little car. Slick roads and near whiteout conditions made it nearly impossible to keep control of the car. The smart thing for her to do was slow down, or better yet pull off to the shoulder until her emotions calmed, but all she kept seeing was Paul coming after her with the drunken look of rage in his eyes. He would have killed her tonight. That much she was certain of.
The car fishtailed when she pumped her brakes to take another twisting turn down the mountain. Once she had the vehicle in control she forced her tears to stop. Why in the hell are you crying over him? Take away the facts she had been with him for the past five years and he was the only man she had been with in every sense of the word, Paul Madden was an abusive, alcoholic asshole who liked to use her as a punching bag. She should have left him the first time he raised his hand to her. Hell, she should have kicked his ass to the curb when she found out he cheated on her with her so called best friend. But no, she had to be some kind of masochistic moron.
“Never again.” Straightening her shoulders, she told herself over and over again that she would never be the docile woman who stood back and let a man walk all over her. She was starting her life over. With no family to fall back on, she was all on her own, but that was something she was looking forward to, especially after the life she had lived with Paul.
With only three hundred dollars to her name and a handful of clothes thrown haphazardly in a bag, Jessa didn’t know how much of a new life she could have. Leaving had obviously not been planned, and even though she didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, a huge weight had already been lifted off her shoulders. Paul would never again control her. That was for damn sure.
She slammed her hand on the steering wheel over and over again until her palms ached. Opening her mouth, she let out the scream that had been festering inside of her for the past five years. The tires caught a slick strip of black ice and did a complete one-eighty. The air left her lungs as she braced herself for the inevitable crash. The side of the car made impact, and everything went dark.
****
Deacon crouched low, the snow blending in with his thick coat of fur. His ears twitched, picking up every little sound. A bird was nestling in a tree, and a rabbit scurried several feet away. He could have gone for the rabbit, but he needed to bring home something more substantial than that. The buck was no more than twenty feet from him, its body tensed and its nose twitching. Yeah, it knew he was stalking it, knew that there was something bigger and faster out there just waiting for the right opportunity. Pressing his body closer to the ground, he felt his whiskers twitch as the scent of blood permeated his senses. As he shifted to his side, a twig snapped beneath his heavy paw, causing the buck to dart off into the woods. His body tensed to go after it, but there was something inside of him that tensed, calling out to him to leave his dinner and find out what caused the thick scent of blood. He inhaled deeply again, and a low growl tore through his chest. A human female was hurt, that much he could decipher. The scent of her blood was sweet in the frigid air, calling out to the primal side of them, the wild animal that was a predator by nature. Moving to the middle of nowhere was supposed to help calm the raging beast inside of him, and as the years passed he found himself seeking solace in his solitary confinement. Deacon found that it didn’t matter how many years went by, or how deep his animal burrowed inside of him, when the scent of fresh blood teased his senses, everything inside of him went on high alert, and his beast roared in triumph.
His paws ate up the distance as he followed the tangy, metallic scent that saturated the air. If he was stronger like his younger brother, Thayer, he could have kept his beast at bay, but it had been so very long since he had sensed such an intoxicating aroma. Lifting his nose to the air he breathed in deeply. A rumble of need left his chest, and he ran faster, taking a sharp right and then a left. The trees flew past him in a blur of earthy tones, then he was upon her.
The side of the car was bent around a massive elm. Metal and glass littered the ground around the carnage. He crept closer, making sure to keep all angles around him in his senses. The driver side window was broken, and strands of her dark hair billowed out of the wreckage, the wind swaying it back and forth. The smell of blood was so overpowering he hissed in need. Blood and adrenalin pumped through his body, tightening and engorging his muscles as he stalked closer. When he was near enough to see her face everything inside of him stilled. His animal became alert yet calm. A sound behind him had him crouching and ready for the attack. A bird flew into the protective covering of the trees. Turning back toward the woman, he moved closer until strands of her hair brushed along his nose, causing it to twitch. He could smell the faint aroma of green apples drift off of her, and even in his animal form he leaned forward, wanting to drag more of it into his lungs. Rising onto his hind legs, he braced his massive front paws on the door and scanned her body. He could see a large gash on her forehead, the source of the blood that filled the air. Another low rumble left his throat. Something inside of him shifted, calling out to his animal and the need to protect this frail, still woman. He had never felt this way about another person. He had never felt this all-consuming pull to make sure she was protected and safe, to make her his. He didn’t like it, didn’t like the way he felt off-balance because of it. He could have turned around, hunted down that buck and put her behind. He could just turn his back and resume the solitary lifestyle he had grown comfortable with, but he couldn’t. His animal clawed for freedom, roared to take her with him. He shook his big head and dropped back down to all fours. No, he couldn’t leave her. She would no doubt die, and that thought had his gut tightening. He would take her back to his home, let Thayer mend her. His brother was good with shit like that. He was the gentle one, the calm one. He would take care of her, and then she would be sent her on her way. Then he could get back to his life.
He turned and headed into the trees. He had supplies stashed throughout the forest, an extra precaution in case some shit happened and he or Thayer couldn’t make it home. Even with the heavy snowfall he knew where their supplies were. If he was going to shift into his human form and carry her back to his cabin he�
��d need a change of clothes. He dropped his nose and inhaled deeply. He dug in through the frozen ground using his razor-sharp claws until he spotted the bag that held the lifesaving essentials. Moving back a step, he let the shift overtake him. Bones broke, muscles stretched, and feet and hands formed. The arctic air hit his nude body, and every part of him tensed at the contact. He grabbed the pants, sweater, coat, and socks and shoes and quickly donned them. He didn’t know how long the female had been unconscious, and the sooner he got her back to the warmth of the cabin the sooner his animal would calm the fuck down and quit acting like some possessive asshole. His beast growled, and he smirked. They may be one and the same, but there were times when his animal tried to take supremacy, tried to make the man in him submit. Maybe that was why he was so fucked up in the head, because he felt like there were two beings inside of him, always waging war and fighting for dominance?
The thick, thermal blanket lay amidst the items, and he grabbed it and threw the bag over his shoulder. He quickly made his way back to her, having no problem finding her since his senses were highly acute and the scent of her blood still filled the air, traveling with the wind. A part of him didn’t want to think about what other animal could have found her first. There was no doubt in his mind that if that had been the case she wouldn’t be alive right now. The winter months were hard, especially this high in the mountains. Animals were desperate to find sustenance, and when the metallic scent of life was thick in the air they would fight to the death just for a taste.
The car came into view, and he threw the driver’s side door open, maybe with a little more force than was necessary since it now hung on its hinges. He grabbed her just as her body started falling to the left. He unlatched her seatbelt and cradled her in his arms. He wrapped the blanket around her, and something inside of him tightened at the feel of her head resting on his chest. She was small compared to him, and wholly feminine. Her underlying fruity scent pierced his senses, overriding the potent aroma of her life-force steadily dripping from the gash on her head. Thayer would be able to fix that as well. His younger brother was a genius where he was a brute. He didn’t have the training and education that Thayer did, but then again he didn’t venture out of their home unless absolutely necessary. Hunting, exercise, and occasionally sex were about as much as he could handle, and even then his skin felt too tight for his body. But it was a necessary evil, because if he didn’t do those three he felt himself get too wild, too confined in his own body. When he got like that he couldn’t control his animal, and things tended to get destroyed.
Deacon made quick work through the woods, knowing time was of the essence. The scent of wood burning and the sight of smoke billowing from the chimney assaulted him just as he broke through the tree line. The two-story cabin blended in with the surroundings. Deacon and Thayer had built it years ago, a retreat from the outside world that wouldn’t understand them, well, that wouldn’t understand Deacon. Thayer knew how to handle and control his shit.
He took the front steps two at a time and pushed open the solid wood front door. Thayer was behind his desk, his head bent and a look of concentration on his face. At the sound of Deacon’s arrival he looked up and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. It took him only a second to take in the scene before he stood so fast his chair was pushed back and slammed against the wall.
“What the fuck?” Thayer strode forward, his gaze on the limp female in Deacon’s arms. “What the fuck did you do? What happened?” His brother’s voice wasn’t accusing, but more concerned and frantic. Deacon couldn’t blame him, though. They both knew Deacon could flip the switch with little to no provocation. It was a curse and a blessing at times. A blessing because it had saved their asses on more than one occasion, and a curse because he feared he would harm, or worse, kill someone because of it.
“I didn’t harm her.” Thayer reached for her, and Deacon gladly gave her up. What he didn’t like was the sense of loss he felt when she was no longer in his arms. He needed a drink, like an hour ago. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of whiskey. Not bothering with a glass, he unscrewed the cap and brought the tip to his mouth, taking a long, much needed drink from it. The open floor plan of the cabin let him watch as his brother carried her to the couch and laid her on it. Worry ate at him, and he found himself moving toward them, watching as Thayer took the blanket off of her and ran his hands over her body, checking for other injuries.
“From what I can tell it’s only her head that is injured.” His brother looked up at him, a deep scowl on his face.
“What the hell happened?”
Deacon shrugged and brought the bottle to his lips again. “Don’t know. I was out hunting and smelled her blood.” Thayer’s face paled as he looked at him. “Scary shit, yeah?” He knew what Thayer thought, knew that he was surprised as fuck that Deacon hadn’t outright killed her. “I can’t explain why I didn’t attack, but when I saw her my beast calmed, man. Actually fucking purred at the sight of her.” Thayer rubbed a hand over his jaw and sat back.
“Shit, Deacon. What are we supposed to do with her?”
Deacon sat down and rested the bottle on his thigh. “I don’t know, but I do know I couldn’t leave her there to die. If the animals didn’t get to her the weather would have killed her.” Yeah, there was no fucking way he would have left her. “You know all about the medical shit. Fix her up, and then when she is well again she can go back to her life.”
Thayer looked at him, his expression serious, like the calm before a storm. “What I’m worried about is you controlling your beast while she’s here. If you had that kind of reaction to her in her unconscious state will you be able to handle your shit when she is up and walking around?”
Deacon let his eyes go over to the sleeping female. He heard the worry in his brother’s voice, and he wanted to assure him he could handle himself, but he knew he couldn’t make that kind of promise. On the best of days he was hanging on by a thread, on the worst … well, he didn’t even want to think about the bad days. He took in her raven colored hair that fanned around her like a dark halo. With her eyes closed he didn’t know what color they were, and he found himself aching to find out. The dark, crescent shapes of her lashes were obsidian slashes on her too pale cheeks. Just thinking about her had his skin tightening uncomfortably. The image of her well and leaving had him clenching his hands. Yeah, this shit was royally fucked up, and so was he.
Chapter Two
Thayer finished wrapping the female’s head and checked her vitals once more. Everything was stable with her, and now it was just a matter of waiting until she woke. She had a few superficial scrapes and cuts, most likely from the glass breaking, but the seatbelt had saved her life. His heart constricted at the thought, and a wave of relief washed through him. He absently rubbed the center of his chest, not knowing where the unexpected emotions came from.
He had given her five sutures on the laceration on her forehead, which surprisingly had been the only major injury on her. His medical training had come in handy more than once, especially when Deacon ended up injured for one reason or another because he flipped the switch, which happened more often than not. He moved back to his desk and watched Deacon over the rim of his reading glasses. His brother watched the female like she was the tallest glass of water and he was in the Mojave Desert. If he didn’t know what kind of aggression and animalistic tendencies his older brother harbored, he wouldn’t have worried about the girl’s safety, but because he had seen Deacon unhinged more than once, there was a part of him that couldn’t help but be concerned.
Deacon had never harmed a female, but Thayer had noticed over the past few years his brother sinking deeper into himself. He was starting to become more animal than man. Being Snow Leopard shifters gave them the power to control both halves: the animal and human. Deacon had never been “normal” in that sense, never able to separate his two selves. With time it became increasingly clear that he was getting worse, especially being so isolate
d. Thayer knew Deacon’s relationship with their father was most likely the cause of his inner struggle, and if he could have taken it away from his older brother he would have. Their father had been too hard on Deacon, and because of that the man before him was broken in many senses.
“Maybe you should go into town, and get yourself a female for the night. You look like you’re about ready to snap.”
Deacon brought the now half empty bottle of whiskey to his mouth and took a long pull. When he lifted his eyes they were hard and unyielding.
“Listen, I’m just trying to make sure you get rid of all that extra energy before the girl wakes up and sees that wild look you got in your eyes. You’re going to scare the shit out of her.”
Deacon stood and paced the length of the living room before taking long strides into the kitchen and setting the bottle down on the island. He braced his hands on the granite top and exhaled loudly. Thayer knew there was too much going on inside of his brother, knew that if he didn’t release all of it the explosion of violence and aggression would be devastating. The only ways that helped relieve all that testosterone were to run, fight, or fuck it out.
“Yeah, I think you’re probably right.” He ran his hand over the back of his head. “I was about to take down a buck when I caught her scent.” Deacon turned around, his body facing Thayer’s, but his eyes right back on the female. “Yeah, I think I need to blow off some steam.” He slid his eyes to Thayer. “She’ll be okay?”
“She’ll be fine. I gave her some pain meds, so she should sleep through the night.” It took him a few moments to move from his spot, but when he finally shut the front door behind him Thayer found himself relaxing. The tension in the room from Deacon had been thicker than hell, and as soon as he left it was like a monumental weight had been lifted out of the room. He sat there for several moments, his eyes on the small, huddled form beneath the blankets on the couch. There was definitely something about her. Even Thayer felt like a bee to honey in her presence. The scent of her was incredible. It was fresh and clean and had just a hint of apple in it. The aroma called out to him, actually caused his cock to harden.