by Leela Ash
Damaged Pack Shifters
The Complete Collection
Leela Ash & Pamela Avery
Copyright ©2019 by Leela Ash and Pamela Avery. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic of mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
https://www.totallyromancebooks.com/leela-ash
Contents
Return of the Wolf
Claimed by the Bear
Mountain Lion Protector
Her Second Chance Wolf
Her Forbidden Dragon
About the Authors
Other Series from Totally Romance
Return of the Wolf
Damaged Pack Shifters 1
Pamela Avery
Leela Ash
Copyright ©2019 by Pamela Avery & Leela Ash. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic of mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
1.
“The old man may be in trouble.”
Seven simple words and yet their effect was so powerful that the man listening at the other end of the line immediately surged to his feet, his throat dry as he demanded with a croak, “Bo, what the hell does that mean?”
Those words from Bo put Derek in a serious sweat because of the entire Damaged Pack, Bo was the most taciturn and least given to exaggeration.
“Calm down, Derek. I said, he may be in trouble. I’m not certain yet.”
There was no need to explain who “the old man” was. Derek knew Bo meant Joshua, the craggy old man they had all come to love and respect like a father. Joshua was more than a mentor; he had picked them all up off the streets— all five of them. He’d dusted them off and set them on the right track to being amazing people with something to offer the world. When they had all discovered they had magical abilities that allowed them to turn into different mythical creatures, Joshua had been the one to teach them to hone their strengths; he had taught them to hide their abilities from humans. He had taught them to watch each other’s backs, and when the five of them had voted to name themselves the Damaged Pack of Weirna, Joshua had cheered them on.
Derek ground his jaw testily. Why was Bo playing semantics? He had known Bo since he was a kid, and not once had he caught the other man in a lie or an exaggeration. If Bo said the old man may be in trouble, it meant the old man was in the very thick of it! Bo was the master of understatements.
For all his wonderful traits, Joshua Cox was also a very stubborn old man. He would never admit that he needed help. And Bo was just as stubborn, Derek thought in exasperation. If Bo was calling now, then he obviously needed help with Joshua’s problem, but he would die before he would admit it.
There was only one possible solution.
“I’ll be on the next plane out!” Derek ground out. The words were tight in his throat as memories of Weirna threatened. It was the only real home he had ever known, but then it had turned out to be his doom too. He shoved the memories aside; he needed to focus more on the good and on Joshua.
“Hey, hold your horses,” Bo interjected in a gruff tone. “You don’t need to do that— yet.”
“Why not?”
“Things haven’t progressed to that point just yet. Heck, I haven’t even contacted any of the others as it is.”
“What’s been going on, Bo?” Derek demanded.
“I’m not sure. Just some vibes I picked up. I’m gonna watch him a little more and get back to you.”
“I’ll call you in two days.”
“Two weeks, Derek. Give me two weeks. Oh, and you won’t be able to reach me. I’ll reach you.”
The line went dead.
“Yo man, they’re here,” someone shouted as Derek returned his phone to his pocket, deep in thought.
He raised his head slightly, sniffed the air a little and then relaxed. The little crowd of ten people were next to harmless; one sniff could tell him loads about an entire room full of people. It was his unique gift.
Derek looked around at his surroundings; natural vegetation on every side, just the way he liked it. Tall forest trees, dense shrubs, the scent of rotting leaves, faint scent of dried animal blood, and wet earth; he was in his element.
He looked at the men, women and two kids assembled before him; they were tourists looking for a good time in the wilds of Kenya. Dexen Resort was his idea; his and his partners’. They had set it up in a place few tourist resorts dared to use. The area was closer to the jungles of Kenya and offered exposure to more wildlife and the government had been on the verge of cordoning it off when he had appeared and offered to buy it. They had been dumbfounded but when he had managed to drum up financial support from his partners, they had gladly let him have it. The area was wild and untamed but with funding and help from his partners, he had made the resort into a luxurious paradise. It had become a veritable Mecca for the more adventurous tourists because Derek was famed for taking tourists to places where angels feared to tread and bringing them back safe and sound. No wild animal had ever harmed anyone he was leading around. In a matter of three years, Derek and Dexen Resort had quickly become sought-after throughout Kenya. He had been travelling all over Africa for the past decade, picking up experiences and adventure; the last three years, he had settled in Kenya.
He loved Kenya. It offered one of the most exotic wildlife tourisms of any place on earth and something about the African country and its virgin, raw, naked appeal drew him and enthralled every last one of his senses.
Ever since he had come here as a wildlife tour guide, he hadn’t looked back. He had adapted so fast and become so knowledgeable about the area, and even the language, that all the locals loved him. Everywhere he went, local women pressed food on him, and young local girls tried to rub their breasts against his arm, their dark eyes filled with silent, wicked promises smiling into his.
He made it a point to avoid them all. He alone knew his powerful secret; he alone knew he could lose all control in the throes of passion. It had happened once with Marjorie; she had discovered his secret and ultimately he had lost her forever.
He smiled a warm welcome now at the assembled tourists in front of him, unleashing his fatal attraction on the gathered crowd with his potent dimpled smile that eased his chiseled features.
Derek was very tall, at six-three, with a mass of long black hair that hung to his shoulders and was tied up at his nape with a band. His eyes were an unsettling shade of grey that tended to turn pure silver when he was in a mood — and he was in a mood more than half the time. Marjorie had described him in that lilting Spanish-accented voice of hers as the “tall, dark, brooding sort with animal magnetism.”
The thought of Marjorie made his heart squeeze in his chest and he shut his eyes for a minute, allowing himself to picture her with her short, wispy blond hair, exotic green eyes, and throaty laugh. He wanted desperately to have her in his arms again, just like in the old days; to sniff her unique shampoo and kiss her chubby cheeks until she chortled. With a tired sigh, he forced his eyes open— hell had a better chance of freezing over before any of that would happen. Besides, at this point, he wasn’t necessarily fantasizing about Marjorie; just any beautiful woman! He had been celibate for more than a decade, thanks to Marjorie!
“Welcome!” he got out, focusing his attention on the men
and women assembled in front of him.
Choruses of “Hi,” and “Hello” rent the air.
“You guys ready for our tour? It’s gonna be amazing,” Derek said, smiling at the small group. They were two American couples, an African couple and a Chinese couple and they all seemed very eager to get started. Two little kids, a boy and a girl, were also hanging onto their mothers’ hands, dressed from head to toe in protective clothing.
He hid a grin. He had taken special care of the area and it was as safe as could be. But then, they were tourists; he supposed the slight niggling fear at the back of their minds was part of the excitement. Adventure was supposed to come with some small dread in the pit of your stomach, wasn’t it? Fear was good in this context; otherwise, their outing would just be a snooze-fest.
Something shifted in the wind; he tensed, inhaling deeply as a wild, indefinable scent quivered on the edge of his senses. It was sweet and tangy and strangely intense, and it seemed to go straight to his brain! What was that? Before he could fathom what it was, a fresh gust of wind blew right into his face and he lost the scent.
“I’m Derek Cavanaugh,” he told the tourists, forcing his attention back to them. “I’ll be your tour guide today. The area is pretty much safe but because I’ll be showing you a lot of hidden caves and paths and wild animals, I don’t want anyone to get lost or hurt, so you have to do exactly what I say every time, okay?” he finished as he turned to lead the way.
“Hey, hold up,” someone called, laughing breathlessly as a group of three people ran up to them. “Tom lost his shoe, so we got held up.”
Derek turned, along with everyone else. Two women and a little boy were approaching the group. The woman who had spoken was clad in tee-shirt and jeans with a pair of glasses shading her eyes. Despite her casual appearance, he could tell she was extremely wealthy. She had that aura of quiet wealth about her, and she walked with the confident gait of the average wealthy American.
Beside her, another woman tagged along with her son in tow. The second woman was wearing an unbuttoned shirt over a tank top and jeans with scuffed sneakers. She had a fresh, unspoiled face, and even from a distance, and devoid of makeup, he could tell she was a total knockout. As she walked forward, her chin-length red hair fluttered in the slight wind again and her scent blew his way, hitting him in the solar plexus like a blow.
Derek tensed, every fiber of his being going on high alert as he inhaled the second woman’s scent. That was the exact scent he had picked up earlier; it was unlike anything he had ever perceived in his entire life. It was calming and drugging at the same time; it made him want to bury his nose in her skin and hair for the rest of his life; it stoked a hunger deep in his soul, and at the same time, satisfied him. Everything inside of him roared with need. That wild, dangerous side of him reared its head; snapping to be free. His eyes glinted in warning, his teeth started to shift, and with great effort, he clenched his fists to control himself.
Through narrowed eyes, he observed that she was a deliciously stacked woman, with curves in all the right places. She was about five-eight, with slim, delicate shoulders that made a man want to protect her, smooth flawless skin like a baby, high arched brows, high cheekbones that defined her slim face and aquamarine eyes that were so startling in their intensity that even from several feet away he was struck. And yet, there was a sad quality in her eyes; barely there but he saw it. Her breasts were high and firm beneath her tank top and her tiny waist gave room to curvy hips encased in jeans so tight she seemed to have been poured into them. She was incredibly hot and … rather dangerous, he thought— she had to be, because why else would she affect him like this?
Everything in him was raring, straining to be free.
The women came closer, heedless of his inner turmoil, and Derek realized, for the first time in his life, that if he didn’t beat a hasty retreat, he could shift form right there in front of everyone.
Derek took a few hasty steps back for self-preservation; the little group kept coming closer. He saw Murphy, his co-guide, shoot him a confused look.
“I’m gonna be sick,” he got out desperately. Before anyone could so much as comment, he lunged for the back of the resort and disappeared from view.
He ran off into the dense forest behind the resort and grabbed the first strong oak he came to. He shook it hard, shaking it until it began to uproot from the ground. His entire skin was on fire as the familiar heat spread through him.
What was it about that woman that had made him lose all control? At thirty, he had mastered himself enough that he never once shifted form, unless he absolutely wanted to or unless it was a full moon. Today, though, one whiff of a woman’s scent and he had lost all control and had been about to reveal his secret.
Okay, not just any woman; this woman!
What was wrong with him? Who was she?
He gave the tree one last vigorous shake as he felt his wild side begin to recede some more. I am under control now, he thought as he slowly let go of the tree.
He’d wanted to have her in his arms with a desperation that defied all logic. He’d wanted to revel in her unique scent and bite her cheeks and lick every part of her in the most sensuous way possible — and he didn’t even know her name! What the hell was wrong with him?
2.
“Kelly? Do you know that man?” Therese whispered, leaning close to her friend as the devastatingly handsome tour guide bounded into the trees behind the resort to be ‘sick’.
Kelly Dunes shook her head as she stared in the direction her best friend, Therese Tyrell, had indicated.
“He sure had a rather strong reaction to seeing you for someone you don’t know,” Therese persisted, pursing her lips as though deep in thought.
It was true though, Kelly allowed. The man had barely taken one look at her and declared that he was going to be sick. She knew she shouldn’t take it personally and she knew she was being a veritable goose, but somehow, she felt shamed to the depths of her soul! She felt as though it were a personal reflection on her. Why else would that hot, dark-haired wonder take one look in her direction and suddenly feel the need to run off? Plus, he acted as though he had smelled something bad too. Was there some bad odor coming off of her and she somehow hadn’t noticed, she wondered, attempting to sniff her clothes without being too obvious about it.
Her ex, Jason, had informed her, in no uncertain terms, just three weeks ago that the sight of her made him want to puke and that he wanted out of their marriage or he would put a bullet in his own brain from sheer boredom.
She was tired! She had agreed to come on this trip with Therese in the first place because she was tired— tired of men and all their endless drama. Tired of all the hoops she had jumped through to keep the peace with the opposite sex. She was freaking tired!
Jason had made the past few months of her life a living hell with series of back-and-forth with her lawyers and his. When he wasn’t flailing her with his particular brand of cold, sardonic humor, he was threatening to take away the one bright spot in her life — their seven-year-old son, Tom.
The endless battles and legal fees had drained her meager resources and left her practically destitute, until, for the first time in her life, she had run. She packed up her son and herself and ran from the States. She hadn’t left permanently; she’d just wanted to drop out of sight for a while and go where no one knew who she was and start over. Sometimes, she wished she were rich enough, so she could buy a whole freaking island and just stay there.
She’d come all the way to Africa to get away from men like Jason who acted as though she were dirt on their shoes. And now, this tour guide, with muscles like Johnny Bravo and a face like Michelangelo’s David had started treating her in the exact same way! Well, bully for him. She wanted peace and quiet, not some Neanderthal who seemed to think he was the Tarzan in this jungle.
With cold implacability, she turned her back on him and squatted to busy herself with Tom’s shoelaces. The man could go straight to hell
. She wasn’t his charity case; she was a paying customer and she wasn’t about to let him or any of the resort staff treat her with anything less than the respect she deserved.
Paying customer? Her subconscious demanded in that taunting little voice it seemed to have honed in her cursed years with Jason.
Fine, so she hadn’t had two pennies to rub together, never mind paying for the trip, but Tarzan didn’t know that. Therese had picked up the entire bill and they had paid for the entire trip in advance, so he had no reason to stare down his long nose at her.
She had a good mind to march over to the management of the resort and get his ass fired! Subconsciously, she balled her hands into little fists. She wanted to get her hands on him and march him over to the manager’s office right now and —
“Are you really that mad at him or are you just burning to see if his muscles are as hard as they look under those clothes?” Therese whispered in a sing-song voice as she too pretended to be tying Tom’s shoelace.
Kelly glared at her friend and loosened her fists. The other woman had always been able to read her like a book, but this was one time she didn’t appreciate being so transparent. In truth, she’d thought the tour guide had that indefinable quality of brute strength and raw vitality about him that made a woman wet just from looking at him. But no use getting wet; if he’d shoved his nose any higher in the air when he saw her, he might have keeled over from the effort! He was probably just a snobbish brute.
Okay, that doesn’t sound right, her inner self pointed out.
“Cut it out, Therese!” Kelly snapped, silencing her friend and her own subconscious. “He may be eye-candy to you, but to me, he’s just one more over-bearing jerk I’ll have to suffer for the rest of this trip,” she finished.
Therese’s teasing expression vanished, and she rose to her full height, putting some distance between them. Her eyes were filled with silent hurt and Kelly promptly felt like a heel.