Taken by Moonlight: Shifters Wild & Free Reverse Harem Book 1

by Bonnie Vanak

  TAKEN BY MOONLIGHT

  Shifters Wild & Free Reverse Harem #1

  Bonnie Vanak

  Contents

  Introduction

  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

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Introduction

  They bought her virginity for one enchanting night in their bed. They never told her they want to claim her forever.

  Psychic Peyton struggles each day to cope with the drudgery of work and routine, except for the nights when she moonlights as a mood bouncer at an upscale gentlemen’s club for shifters. Denied a promotion that will give her the bonus she desperately needs to pay off a debt, she sells her virginity at auction. She finds herself in the arms of the winner - ruthless, powerful alpha wolf Dante Carrington, who shares his prize with his sexy beta wolves - bad boy biker Gabriel and sensitive poet Alexander. They want more than to ravish Peyton’s virgin body for one night. They want to claim her body, heart and soul.

  When loan sharks threaten Peyton, Dante whisks her away in his limo to his pack’s private ranch to keep her safe. Dante, Alex and Gabriel are determined to protect Peyton and seduce her until she submits to them … and her own desires. They will take her hard and take her gentle, coaxing her to the heights of a pleasure she has never known. But Peyton is human and knows the rugged world of shifters can be dangerous. Torn between the erotic world she’s plunged into and the familiar, safe surroundings of the human lifestyle, she must choose between listening to her head or following her heart. Because everyone knows when you play with wolves you risk getting hurt… forever.

  Want to check out more of my books?

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  Werewolves of Montana Mating Minis

  Seduction (free on Kindle Unlimited)

  Obsession (Raphael, JJ’s beta wolf)

  Passion (Jake from Aiden’s pack)

  Redemption (Robert, Lupine alpha and friend to Aiden)

  Temptation (Sebastian, dragon shifter)

  The Werewolf Cowboy (Grayson)

  The Black Dragon (Justin)

  1

  The night air felt cool against my cheeks and the stars sparkled overhead, contrasting to the cloying smell of perfume and the sizzling hum of the crimson neon sign that read Crossroads Gentleman’s Club.

  Near the door, a handsome, tall werewolf guarded the entrance. His silk tuxedo fit nicely over all those muscles that came in handy in keeping out lowlifes. The were’s asset was a set of fangs that could tear into flesh as easily as a hot knife slides into warm butter.

  I climbed out of the aging Ford pickup, took my purse with the frayed strap that threatened to break loose, and slammed the door, heading into my second job.

  What drove a nice girl like me to an upscale sex club for shifters?

  Desperation.

  I work at Crossroads as a waitress. As a psychic, or psi, human, I’m good at reading auras. I tell Norm, the owner, which shifters plan to start something, or worse, hassle the girls, and he tosses them out.

  Two years ago, I was desperate for money and got a $25,000 loan with Earl Brown and his equally shifty brother Cal (real shifty, not just a shifter). Now I owe $10,000 in interest by Tuesday or I’ll be homeless.

  Tonight, Norm’s paying double time for tonight’s shift and the private auction in the champagne room that kicks off the holiday weekend.

  “Hey Peyton.” Guy, the werewolf/bouncer, nodded at me. “Rough day at the office?”

  Gaze centered on my hair, he looked sympathetic. Aw damn! I forgot the wig that I usually wear to discourage guys from groping me. It’s a hideous thing with fake hair like straw that makes me look like a witch. When I apply the right cosmetics, no one, not even a drunk wereskunk, will pay attention.

  “I was in a rush. Boss wouldn’t let me out until I met with my new manager.” Just admitting that made my guts squeeze tight. Imagine your new coworker getting promoted over you, despite all your dedication to the company for four years.

  Guy sighed. “You lost out on the promotion?”

  Self-pity isn’t my style, but the thought of how close I’d been to that promotion and the much-needed bonus made my throat close. “She had a four-year college degree. All I have is four years of working for the company.”

  “That sucks. Humans are cruel,” Guy agreed.

  A shrug and a smile pushed away the pity party. A good rule of thumb is to never take your day job troubles into the club. Shifters came here to mingle, talk business, drink and eat, and see beautiful women dance, not listen to wait staff whine about the unfairness of life.

  “Others have it worse. I need to go home and get my wig. Can you make excuses for me?”

  I knew I was running late, but Guy had helped out in the past. Not tonight.

  “Norm’s waiting on you. No time to change.” Guy opened the door for me. “Take care. He’s wound up tighter than a weresnake’s ass.”

  Norm was a python shifter. I laughed at the little joke, even though the sinking feeling continued. Guy touched my arm and my nerves jumped.

  He lowered his voice. “Peyton, be careful. I mean it. This is a different crowd tonight and some of them will do anything to get what they want. You forget how attractive you are.”

  Attractive? No one’s called me that in a long time. “I’m too chubby for their tastes.”

  His warm gaze traveled up from my scuffed Western boots past my jeans to the long-sleeved floral shirt. Guy stroked his chin.

  “You’re perfect for shifters. Just the right size. Werewolves like their women with lots of curves.”

  Can a girl turn redder than the neon sign outside the club? I doubted it. I nodded to Guy and rushed inside.

  Unfortunately, because of the late hour, it meant breezing past the main room to get to the employee dressing area. The lounge was already packed with shifters at the round tables and booths. Werewolves, some bear shifters, a panther or two and a distinguished looking gray-haired man I determined was a werejaguar populated the tables. All of them wearing tuxedos, as if this were prom night or a wedding.

  A coyote shifter wolf-whistled as I wound my way through the linen-draped tables in the center. Cheap seats.

  After a quick scan of the coyote’s aura, indeed, the room itself, I determined the males were impatient, but controlled. No harm meant. I increased my pace.

  The more expensive leather booths were reserved for shifters who paid six figures a year for membership.

  As I started past those, a deep voice spoke from the shadows. “Hello Peyton.”

  My stomach did little flip flops as I ground to a halt. The delicious scent of spices and leather teased my senses. Sweat trickled down my backside, banding in the waistband of my jeans.

  “Hello Mr. Carrington.”

  One did not hurry past Dante Carrington, alp
ha wolf of a pack sixty miles north of Cheyenne. Not if one wished to get fired for ignoring the greeting of the club’s wealthiest, and most important, patron.

  Dante Carrington. Black hair clipped short, except for the silky hank that hung over his forehead. Eyes dark as night, his facial features handsome and perfect. In his dinner dress, he looked good enough to lick.

  Down girl.

  Owner of the Bar B Q ranch, also known in were circles as Dante’s Inferno for the excellent cookouts they held each summer. He started coming to the club a year ago.

  To his right sat Alexander Smith. Gabriel Sharp sat across from Dante. Both were Dante’s betas in the pack, his close friends. Like the others in the lounge, they wore black silk tuxedos, but they looked elegant and refined. Even the rougher Gabriel, who preferred biker boots and black leather while riding his Harley.

  The auras of all three glowed a calm blue. Weres usually had blue auras, except when they were sexually aroused, and then they flared crimson.

  “Mr. Smith. Mr. Sharp.” I kept my voice even and friendly, though inside I shook a little. This trio had that effect on me. They oozed masculine power and strength, and sexuality.

  Three different males, all different, and all intriguing and handsome.

  “Peyton please. How many times have we told you to call us by our first names? No formality needed,” Dante gently chided.

  Alexander lifted a hand in greeting, his dark eyes framed by round glasses. Lean and tall, he had curly black hair spilling down to his shoulders and reminded me a little of Jon Snow from Game of Thrones. Alex was smart and shy.

  Shifters are physically stronger and healthier than humans. I always suspected Alex wore glasses to hide himself, not because of a defect with his eyesight.

  Bad boy Gabriel gave a toothy grin. A short-cropped brown beard covered his lower face, and the black silk jacket hid a body lined with sinew and muscle. Gabriel was the largest of the trio, standing more than six feet, five inches tall with thick muscles and a shock of brown hair streaked gold tumbling down past his broad shoulders.

  Thick, dark brows arched over blue eyes that suggested he liked to party hard, but I’d seen those eyes flash with tenderness when he’d wistfully mentioned how much he adored children. I’d also seen them turn stormy when he bristled with rage when someone tried to abuse one of the girls.

  No formality? I gave a pointed look at their dinner jackets. “Then why the fancy duds?”

  They all chuckled. Dante lifted his glass. “Touché.”

  “Not quite so fancy.” Gabriel stuck out a foot covered in black Doc Martens.

  Grinning, I showed him my pair – covered with little colorful flowers. Gabriel fist bumped me.

  “How are you, Peyton?” Gabriel asked. “We were hoping you’d show up tonight.”

  “Peyton Jackson. Our favorite waitress,” Alexander’s smile put me at ease. Usually he was so quiet, you barely knew he was there. I always sensed something deep about Alexander, as if he were a wounded were hiding a secret. Such a sensitive soul.

  Still, one had to be mindful these were shifters. With fangs and claws. Never let down your guard around shifters.

  “Yes, you always serve us well. We appreciate it,” Dante rumbled.

  None of them ever tried to cop a feel or made crude jokes or hassled me. Always polite and friendly, Dante and his friends always tipped well, even when the bill was small.

  I liked talking with them. Over the past six weeks, we’d gotten to hanging out as the club closed. They insisted on walking me to my ancient car so I’d feel safe and Dante even threw a drunk werewolf out the door whose aura warned me he was trouble.

  After that incident, Dante had given me a quick session on getting to know shifters better, how to tell their moods and when their magick flared. I really appreciated his insight. Most of my knowledge of shifters and auras came from an old magick book I’d studied in order to get the club job.

  I pulled too hard on my purse. The strap broke and the bag tumbled to the floor, disgorging its content like a club patron heaving after one too many bourbon shots.

  “Damn,” I muttered. “Now I’m really going to be late.”

  On my knees, I scrambled to gather my things. Lipstick, compact, hairbrush… my hands trembled a little. Norm was going to kill me for being this tardy. Well, not really kill me.

  I hoped.

  All three males immediately combed the floor to help.

  Dante picked up my purse, handing it to me. “No need to be nervous,” he murmured in that dark whisky voice. “I’ll inform Norman that I delayed you in starting your shift.”

  His thoughtfulness almost made me cry. Dante had gotten past the emotional barriers that had been a defense against today’s disappointments and stress. I never cried in public, and wasn’t about to start. But this kindness was like rubbing salve on a sore wound.

  Standing up, I knotted the broken strap and checked the bag to ensure I’d retrieved everything.

  Alexander cleared his throat. “Ah, I found this under the table.” He handed me the box of tampons.

  “Organic.” Dante nodded. “Very good.”

  As if he approved of my feminine protection. A furious blush ignited my face.

  “Yes, you wouldn’t want anything inorganic in your, ah, body,” Alexander said, avoiding my gaze.

  “Only all natural in your body,” Gabriel chimed in.

  Alexander glared at him. “And you’re the expert?”

  Mortified, I muttered “thanks,” and stuffed them into the bag.

  Gabriel chuckled. “I hear they’re great for wound care. Alex, you could have used one after last night’s scuffle.”

  “What scuffle?” I asked, desperate to shift the spotlight off the contents of my purse.

  “We had a disagreement with the Brown brothers.” Dante sipped his whisky, then the glass dangled in his long, elegant fingers. Such aristocratic hands for such a powerful alpha. “They thought to take a stroll on our land and we thought otherwise.”

  This was news. In addition to being rich loan sharks, the Brown brothers owned land near the Bar B Q. Earl Brown always looked to challenge Dante for control of his pack.

  “I hope you gave them a sound beating.” I gave a furtive glance around in case a Brown pack member listened. “Of course you did. Why am I even asking?”

  Dante offered a brief smile, while Alex nodded and Gabriel grinned.

  “That’s what they get for taking a stroll.” I refrained from glancing at my cell to see the time.

  “It wasn’t a simple stroll. They tried to break past our gate,” Alex blurted out.

  Gabriel’s easy grin faded and his blue eyes narrowed. “Except we caught them on the security cameras and stopped them.”

  The alpha didn’t hush them or scowl. Instead, Dante studied my face. I felt my heart sink to my stomach over this revelation. Heard rumors for the past four weeks, too, that the Brown pack grew bolder and were after one thing Dante’s pack had.

  Females. And young. The Browns had only one breeding couple in their pack who had yet to produce offspring.

  Out here in the middle of nowhere, females of breeding age were rarer than a warm day during a hard winter. From what I’d read, weres typically fought for turf and for females.

  “Who did they want?”

  “Any of the females. And the young.” Dante’s simple statement sent a chill rushing down my spine. The Browns grew more reckless, and bolder.

  “That’s pretty cocky of them to waltz onto your ranch and try to steal your pack members.” I bristled with anger. Damn the Browns. They made life miserable for weres and humans alike.

  “They had reason to be cocky.” Gabriel scowled. “They brought five of their strongest warriors.”

  Worried, I scanned all three. “You’re so calm. This is pretty serious. They were after your vulnerable ones, right? The young and the pregnant females and the elderly?”

  Dante exchanged glances with his betas. His smile
was grim, but approval flickered in his dark gaze. “Yes. Does that bother you?”

  “Hell yeah.” I fisted my hands. “I can’t stand to see kids and elderly abused or scared.”

  “Why?” Dante asked quietly. “Why should you care about a pack of wolves?”

  Somehow I sensed his question had deeper meaning. I struggled with my emotions. Bit my lip.

  Finally, I settled on the bare truth. “My parents always taught me to honor the family credo – protect the innocent, work for justice and fight like hell to defend those who can’t defend themselves. No matter what if the person you’re fighting for is human or not human.”

  The three sexy werewolves studied me as if I were an insect on a pin. I laughed. “Not that I have any means to fight against shifters.”

  “I think you do,” Dante said softly. “You underestimate yourself, Peyton. You have a unique, special gift as a human.”

  Red suffused my face. I needed to shift the focus off me to them. I didn’t like being the center of Dante’s quiet scrutiny.

  “Your mom and dad sound like good people,” Alexander said.

  I nodded, emotion overcoming me. “They were. They died in a car crash a few years ago.”

  Now I really wanted to cry, but I fought the tears. I gave my brightest smile. “Enough of me. Tell me about the Browns. You have plenty of males to defend your vulnerable members. Did you bring out the big fangs?”

  Gabriel shrugged. “Three of us against seven of them. Fair fight. It was fun.”

  “Fun?” Alexander shook his head. “You’re not the one left with a facial laceration that bled like a knife wound.”