Blood Oath (Shifters Unlimited Prequels Book 1)

by KH LeMoyne

  The shifters before him froze, their unease a detectable scent tinged with a sour sweat. Their pupils grew as their gazes swung right and then left, but they didn’t back down. He planted a paw with a resounding thud and hunched deeper, ready for a lunge.

  Justice required a swift delivery. The families in this arena needed strength and retribution. With those brief agreements between man and beast, he let go and gave his wolf free rein.

  The large cat flew at him, jaws wide, aiming for Deacon’s neck. A high-pitched snarl erupted from the creature as Deacon rose on his hind legs and dug his claws from sternum to groin through the cat’s soft belly. Before the body dropped, a sharp, deep pain radiated from Deacon’s right flank. He twisted and fell, planting his full weight on the wolf guard beneath him. Twice the size of a normal shifted creature, Deacon crushed the guard into an unnatural pretzel shape beneath him.

  In a quick flip, he spun to a crouch. The final guard, anticipating an opening, had charged and ricocheted off Deacon’s back as he turned.

  The guard shook his head and shifted into his human form, perched at the catwalk’s edge. He lifted one hand, palm out. “A deal—”

  Like an earthquake tremor, a gunshot ripped through the cavern, and a spot of red blossomed in the guard’s throat. He fell lax to the catwalk.

  Deacon sprang into the air, punching one handrail with his paws as he closed the distance between himself and Reichert. The smoking gun lay discharged at the side of the chair, but a second rose his way. He twisted in midair, spinning, and struck Reichert’s head with his hind feet.

  The hand with the gun flailed.

  My clan. One swift slash of Deacon’s claws severed Reichert’s head from his shoulders. Mine.

  Deacon shifted back into human form, breathing hard. A disorienting sense of euphoria tingled through his body like sleeping nerves suddenly awakened. He stood upright and surveyed the carnage. Disgust swept away his satisfaction in a nauseating wave, his alpha urge to kill driven deep and locked tight. Faces stared up at him from cages around the room. His people crouched in the corners, tucking their children to them as they waited on his next move.

  Reichert had much to answer for, and a quick death seemed too kind. But his people deserved better than witnessing such bloodshed. And those before him were his people, the ones he’d traveled among for the last several decades, even those he’d left at home. The brief insight justified his acceptance of Vendrick’s ultimatum. Deacon had waited too long for his father to pass on his mantle.

  Luckily, lineage, not age, had decided the bid for the alpha power.

  A baby’s cry caught his attention, pulling him from his thoughts and refocusing his efforts. He strode to the far wall, grasped the ends of several long chains connected to the gates below, and heaved. “Keep clear of the gates until they’re secured.”

  He dragged length upon length of the chains into a loop at his feet until finally, the cages stood open. He secured the ends to a hook beside Reichert’s former chair and squinted toward the far side of the arena and the remaining closed cages, likely housing the fathers and husbands of the women and children below. Those confined animals threw themselves at the gates with surprising fury given their gaunt and undernourished states. Families crowded around the outside, reaching through the bars for any contact. Attempts to free their mates proved unsuccessful, and they cast worried looks over their shoulders to keep an eye on Deacon.

  Despite having rid them of their captor, his role as hero versus new dictator remained uncertain.

  With their loved ones still caged, he couldn’t blame them. And while he didn’t strive to be anyone’s hero, he scoured the wall beside Reichert’s chair for the keys to the prisons. He patted along the wide, thick armrests until a soft pressure released a secret compartment. Lifting the ring of keys high, he caught two of the women’s attention. “Take your families home. Bury your dead and tend to your wounded, but wipe this horror from your future. Do not let Reichert rule your happiness from beyond the grave.”

  He tossed the keys so they landed just shy of one woman’s skirts. Tentatively, she scooped up the thick ring and rushed to the cages. As the first gate swung free, a cheer rose. A soft din at first, then a chorus of howls and children’s cries.

  He avoided staring at the desperate reunions and looked down. Browning was still in the same position as when Deacon assumed the catwalk. The grizzly squatted in human, albeit naked, form downwind of Browning. Forearms braced over his knees, the grizzly shifter shook his head at Deacon. “Having a little problem with the fox’s mate.”

  Deacon dropped to the dirt floor and slowly strode closer. Both the young man and his beloved appeared pale, trembling, and in shock. The pistol in the young woman’s hand shook, her weariness apparent.

  “Don’t hurt Jenny. Please.” Wet and garbled, Browning’s speech evidently took the breath he needed. With a painful hacking, he drew into a ball.

  Deacon had to give the kid credit—he was determined to use his last efforts to save his love. “No one’s going to hurt your—lady.”

  “—will do whatever you want.” Browning gasped and spurted. Bloody spittle covered his lips. Jenny dabbed at it as she kept her eyes averted from the naked grizzly shifter.

  Deacon tapped the grizzly’s shoulder. A swift layer of pants and a shirt materialized and covered his body. The grizzly jumped to his feet and shuffled farther away, swiping at the clothes. “Stop helping me. I’m not going to pledge to you or anyone else.”

  One strong growl was all it took from Deacon, and the shifter flinched. Disgust, anger, and bitter rage all poured off the man in rolling waves, but he held his tongue.

  “I don’t care what you do,” said Deacon calmly.

  The man’s lip lifted. “No less than I expected.”

  “Make sure there are no hostages hidden away, and then find me the location of the rest of Reichert’s men.”

  “Then what?”

  “Just find them. Nothing else. What began here tonight, I will end now.”

  “And you’ll just take down a few shifters before heading back to hole yourself up in the Stronghold like a newly crowned prince!”

  Deacon raised a brow. First Vendrick, and now this big ox. Did everyone think he needed instruction and guidance? “Find me the location of those men.”

  He turned his back on the grizzly shifter and crouched, unable to ignore the young couple any longer, or the waning vital signs from Browning’s pulse and heartbeat. Jenny struggled with the pistol in one hand and a wad of cloth she held to Browning’s chest in the other. Given the pale blue embroidery, she’d probably torn apart her entire undergarment.

  “I need to tend to you, Browning,” Deacon said quietly.

  However, Browning’s soft mutters were all for his lady. And despite his weakness his voice, rang clear. “It will be alright. I’m not leaving you, Jen.”

  “But he—you saw what he did. This is insane.”

  “He saved us.”

  “Doesn’t mean you owe him.”

  “I do.”

  She blew at a stray strand of hair over her face and closed her eyes for a second. “Then if we owe him, we stay.”

  “Jen, you don’t understand.” Browning’s coughing stopped him.

  “I understand. New life. New experiences. Do you think I didn’t see what all these people can do?” She snapped a quick glance Deacon’s way and then leaned closer to Browning. “I’m staying with you.”

  “I couldn’t shake you, could I?” A weak grin took hold on the pale face.

  “No.” Her breath hitched.

  “What I love most about you...so strong.”

  “One more time. So I can tell our children exactly how their father proposed.”

  His eyes glowed, and despite the gaping wound in his chest, he reached for her, and Deacon turned his back on them for a second. Unfortunately, he could still hear them all too clearly. “They’ll all be like me, Jen.”

  “Thank goodness. With
all the strangeness in this world, your blood will make them strong enough to survive.”

  Deacon closed his eyes, trying to fade into the background, but time was wasting. When he turned back, she straightened her shoulders, gingerly put the gun on the ground, and pointed a finger his way. “Don’t you dare hurt him.”

  Done with the convoluted pleas and demands, Deacon pushed Jenny’s hand back down to Browning’s chest. “Keep applying pressure to the wound.”

  Her lips tightened, but she complied, still hovering over most of Browning’s body.

  Stubborn woman. Deacon hoped she had as much staying power after she delivered a small brood of shifter children. Then he leaned forward and gripped Browning’s jaw with his palm. “Keep holding the bandage tightly, and don’t get in my way.”

  Browning struggled, his eyes glassy, sweat dotting his forehead.

  Deacon pressed his other palm over Browning’s shoulder. “Save talking and confessions for later. Get ready to shift.”

  “Can’t.”

  Nose to nose with the young man, Deacon stared him down. “Are you refusing your alpha?”

  “Never, Deacon.” His eyes drifted closed with a sigh.

  The young man’s confidence and commitment constricted Deacon’s throat in a way few gestures had in the last few years. But he didn’t hesitate. “On the count of three, be prepared for his body to change size.” Deacon slid a gaze Jen’s way. “And don’t release the bandage until he’s back in his human form.”

  Eyes wide and pupils constricted to pinpoints, she dipped her chin a fraction in acknowledgment and squeezed her beau’s hand tighter.

  Bowing his head to Browning’s, Deacon let loose the newest beasts in his body, the ones tenuously held in his wolf’s grip. He exhaled, and like tentacles, the alpha power attached itself to his life essence and spun toward Browning, brushing over the human skin and seeking contact with the shifter beneath. A long, low growl reverberated with pulses of warmth and light, coaxing sounds from the few pack members lingering in the shadows.

  Jen’s gasp confirmed the mutation, but sight wasn’t needed to feel the coarse strands of hair beneath his hands as flesh and bone shrank to leaner, smaller furred-and-muscled limbs.

  A light breath from Browning escaped as a faint yip. The fox struggled only once, and at Jen’s soft sob, settled.

  The three of them held still, the ties between them steady but fragile currents.

  As Browning’s heartbeat pulsed stronger and his lungs lost the faint rattle of fluids, Deacon eased off and pulled back his power. He opened his eyes and settled onto his haunches, still gripping Browning’s shoulder.

  Russet fur wavered, shimmering in the torchlight as flesh reconstituted into Browning’s long limbs and torso. Deacon quickly brushed his hand down the last of the fur, issuing a command for nature’s fibers to form clothes to cover the naked shifter. Eyes striated with brown and green met his as Browning looked up.

  “You didn’t take my blood yet,” the fox shifter whispered as he angled his head back, exposing his neck in offering.

  “No one’s taking blood in this clan unless they need a transfusion. Not that you have any extra to offer, boy.” Deacon patted his shoulder and rose, leaving Browning to embrace his sobbing Jen.

  Putting as much distance between himself and the young lovers as possible, Deacon gave one last glance across the now empty cages and headed into the tunnel toward the exit.

  The grizzly shifter stood several yards from the entrance, his arms crossed over his chest and a deep frown carving creases into his face. “Didn’t need to go far to find troublemakers. The few idiots with any fight left intended to ambush us at the entrance.”

  “Did you see Reichert’s man Stromer?”

  A tiny twitch started at the side of the shifter’s mouth. “I hope you didn’t need anything from the rat-bastard human. He tried to bribe me and then had the gall to pull a gun on me.”

  Not surprising after what Deacon had just endured. “You killed him.”

  “He put up a decent fight. A satisfying experience, if I might add.”

  Deacon glanced at the young lovers making slow progress from the cave’s exit as they headed toward town. “He targeted our people. He deserved much worse. Any others?”

  “I’ve convinced the rest that becoming a nameless pile of bones from challenging us was stupid. But they might have a few stupider friends somewhere around. Did find one human pretty badly beaten. Another of the shifters called him Kincaid and I helped him limp away.”

  Deacon cocked a brow as he glanced around for one final check before following in Browning and his future wife’s wake. “Us?”

  “I’ve done what you asked after you released me. I can finish with you to buy my freedom.” The shifter’s scowl said he felt anything but gratitude for his release, but evidently his pride required some payback.

  “Consider your debt paid.” Deacon rolled his shoulder for a second and tested the muscle. No residual pain lingered from either the pipe incident or the fights. Alpha power delivered a fast recovery time. He glanced out toward the dark purple turning pink on the horizon, and still, the bear shifter followed him. “Are you really looking for more fights, or do you have a death wish?”

  “I’ve come this far. I might as well finish tonight’s business.”

  Stubborn son of a bitch. But a shifter with his size and strength would come in almost as handy as having Vendrick at his back. As long as the grizzly left his grudge behind. “Then you might as well give me a name I can put on your tombstone.”

  “Grizzwald Amos Franklin Bartholomew Halstead.”

  Deacon halted and glanced over his shoulder. “Hell, you know the masons charge by the letter. You’ll just have to live, Grizz. If you see any unarmed stupid shifters hiding behind the rocks, leave them to their own penance.”

  Grizz hesitated and glanced back toward the hole in the mountain. “Several of the support beams are rigged to blow in a few minutes. This won’t become anyone’s hell again, though…”

  “No problem. Everyone’s out.”

  “I—it’s the alpha thing, right? Because I checked, and all the families accounted for the survivors—and their dead. However you can’t know for certain.”

  But Deacon could. Every shifter’s heartbeat in the mine, and the souls since departed, all registered somewhere deep inside Deacon. He wasn’t willing to call it his soul. And it wasn’t anywhere near his heart. More like he carried a cataloged universe of those who now belonged to him. A sobering thought.

  “So if you aren’t going to massacre all the ones who slunk away, where are you going now?” Lacking a subtle step, the grizzly stomped beside him.

  Deacon laughed. For someone who didn’t want anything to do with an alpha, Grizz seemed determined to follow along like a lost dog. “I’m heading back to Black Haven to hole myself up in the Stronghold. Wasn’t that your prediction?”

  With a frown, Grizz averted his stare. “Rumor has it there are at least a dozen there who will challenge any newcomer for the alpha position.”

  Deacon waited until the other man met his gaze. “I’m not a newcomer. But half of those will feel compelled to challenge me in order to save face in front of their families. Of the remaining, some only need to test the strength of the alpha before they concede.”

  “And the ones left will need to be put down because they won’t stop until you and anyone supporting you is dead.”

  A small dusty pack lay at the side of the road. Deacon picked it up and slung the strap around his neck. Wherever Vendrick had disappeared to, he’d had the forethought to grab their gear. Deacon’s meager belongings fit inside the pouch smaller than a pair of work gloves. And while material goods had never meant much, a few items held sentimental value. It was unlikely he’d meet Vendrick anywhere near this town again, but meet they would. Deacon had been promised answers.

  He headed toward the woodlands in the distance. “I know how to handle a dirty fight. If tonight’s
test was any indication, I have a few new skills to hone as well.”

  “You’ll need someone at your back.”

  An interesting sign of support from a man determined to remain free of an alpha’s control. “I’m not looking for pledges.”

  “I’m not offering blood.”

  “And I wouldn’t take yours.” Deacon turned slowly. “Or that of any other shifter in my territories.”

  “Hard to level an alpha claim without a blood exchange.”

  Pursing his lips and finally annoyed by the tension in Grizz’s body, Deacon stalked up to him, leaning in close enough to see every whisker on his face. “I’ve learned a thing or two over the years. Not every old rule has value. And if I wanted easy, I’d walk away now. Not seek out a job that will doubtlessly cause me headaches for centuries to come.”

  Grizz nodded slowly, never breaking his stare. “Then I guess you could use some help.”

  “Guess I could.” Deacon hid his smile and turned back toward the dawn lighting his path. The last color he saw from the corner of his eye as his body shimmered, dissolving into his wolf, was the dark chocolate bulk of the grizzly at his side.

  I hope you enjoyed this brief glimpse into Deacon Black’s decision to accept the alpha mantle.

  Want a free Shifters Unlimited prequel novel? Sign up for my newsletter at http://khlemoyne.com/newsletter

  Keep reading for an excerpt of Shifters Unlimited Book 1, HIDDEN.

  HIDDEN - Shifters Unlimited Book 1

  Life on the run is about to end with a sniper’s bullet or an eternal pledge of fealty. Neither suits a seasoned lion shifter.

  Shifter Chisholm Barduc has kept his family safe despite the mob’s target on their back. Free from any alpha’s control as well. But his luck is running out when his teenage daughter falls victim from a local crime. And if his instincts are correct, the beautiful police officer protecting his daughter’s secret is the mate Chisholm never believed he’d find. Only she’s not buying her role in mated destiny.