by Romi Hart
Twi
Primal Impulse Shifters, Book 3
Romi Hart
Copyright © 2020 by Romi Hart
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or 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.
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Also by Romi Hart
Primal Impulse Shifters Series
Tieris
Zanthe
Twi
Anarock Shifters Series
Victor
Bryce
Elliot
Finn
Malachai
Levi
Devil’s Flame MC Series
Rafe
Zeke
Eli
Harrison
Corey
BOX SETS
Stamina
Out of Bounds
Playing to Win
Untamed Billionaires
Dangerous
Untamed Billionaires Series
The Billionaire Bull
The Billionaire Bold
The Billionaire Brute
Playing to Win Series
One Kiss to Win
One Chance to Win
One Cheer to Win
Out of Bounds Series
Temptation
Addiction
Passion
Dangerous Series
Dangerous Play
Dirty Play
Daring Play
Stand Alone Books
Sinner
Big Slide
Contents
1. Twilight
2. Valentine
3. Twilight
4. Valentine
5. Twilight
6. Valentine
7. Twilight
8. Valentine
9. Twilight
10. Valentine
11. Twilight
12. Valentine
13. Twilight
14. Valentine
15. Twilight
16. Valentine
17. Twilight
18. Valentine
19. Twilight
20. Valentine
21. Twilight
22. Valentine
23. Twilight
24. Valentine
25. Twilight
Victor (Anarock Shifters, Book 1) - Special Preview
Author’s Note
About the Author
Also by Romi Hart
1
Twilight
A dash of red fur, a flash of a fluffy tail, and a whispered growl had me on the chase. “Hurry, Mist. I’m on his trail now!”
“Catch him! Catch – him, Twi. I’m famished,” my cousin told me through telepathy – the best way for shifters to communicate with one another.
“I am trying.” The pesky squirrel ran up a tree, chattering away as he fled the forest floor. “Damn! He’s gone up a tree, Mist. I don’t think we’ll catch him now.”
Mist skidded to a stop beside me. We both stood on our four paws, our pointed noses skyward as our sharp eyes held the squirrel.
“I’m going to go for it, Twi.” With a leap, Mist made it three feet up the thick tree trunk, hanging in place by his sharp claws.
“Bravo!” All his hard work of sharpening his fox claws had paid off. “Now climb, cousin. Climb as if your life depends on it. For it well might if we don’t get a bit of grub in our tum-tums.”
Moving one back paw up the trunk a bit, Mist held tight to the tree with the other three paws. “Perhaps a trip into Baudette is in order, Twi.”
“Into town?” He had to be joshing me. “This is our escape into nature week, cousin. Going back to town will defeat our purpose. We’re fox-shifters. As such, we should be able to live off the land. And this pesky squirrel taunted us – I’ll have you remember. He’s asked to be our dinner.”
Another back paw moved up, catching the claws into the hardwood. “But this isn’t easy, Twi. Why don’t you hop on up here and give it a go if you think it’s so easy?”
“I’m keeping the ground covered.” He really had no idea how hunting went. “Once you get to him, he will make a jump for it and that’s when I’ll grab him with my mouth.” Growl, snip, snip. I brandished my shiny teeth, giving him an example of how I would end the stupid squirrel and turn him into hamburger.
I wonder – do they call ground squirrel, hamburger. I will have to make sure to ask someone about that one day.
“Is that why you told me that I needed to use the nail file to sharpen my claws? So that you could stay on the ground and I could climb treacherous trees?” He huffed then moved another centimeter higher on the tree trunk.
He wasn’t moving fast at all. “I think a sloth just passed you up, Mist.” Rolling on the soft bed of pine needles the trees had supplied the forest floor with so generously, I howled at my joke. “I. Am. A. Riot!”
“Sure you are.” Scrambling like a rat, Mist finally got the hang of things and shot up the tree. But he’d moved too fast and the silly squirrel easily sidestepped him. “He moved!”
“You don’t say?” Did he actually think that animal would simply stay in place to wait for Mist to pluck him from the tree as if he were nothing more than an apple?
“Come here, you,” Mist snarled as he turned around to face the vicious rodent. “I will get you.” With a quick lunge, my cousin frantically moved his front paws to grab the little beast who merely crawled into a hole we’d both missed seeing.
And then down, down, down Mist fell. His paws clawed the air as though they could actually catch it. His wide eyes were on me. And his mouth gaped as if he was screaming. Which foxes can’t really do, it’s tough to vocalize like that - so no sound came out of his mouth at all.
As I looked up, it dawned on me that he was coming right toward me. “I’ll catch you, cousin.” Then I realized I wasn’t in my human form and that had been part of our escape into nature week rules. No human forms for the entire seven-day period. “Oh, sorry.” I moved out of his way. “I forgot about our rules.”
Mist tucked his head in and made himself into a ball, hitting the ground with his back, then rolling for a foot or so. “You suck, Twi! You really do. Screw the rules. I could’ve broken my neck.” Rolling onto his feet, he snarled at me as he took a stance only foxes who were about to tussle would do. “Come here and face me!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I spied something red, round, and plump. “Berries! Come look!” I’d found a vine of fresh, ripe, juicy berries we could feast upon.
No longer pissed, Mist ran to join me in chomping up the fruit. “These are yummy. Way to go, cousin. You’ve saved the day.”
“Yes, yes. I agree, Mist. I have saved the day.” I looked up as the squirrel looked out of its hole and chattered at us. “You were probably stringy anyway.”
“And you probably tasted like old tires,” Mist added. “Stupid squirrel. Let’s not bother with those rodents anymore. Rabbits are far better.”
“I agree.” I gulped down a berry. “Plus, they can’t climb trees.”
Mist swatted a berry and it landed on my fur with a splat. “You are a jerk, Twilight Foxworthy.”
Swatting one right back at him, I caught him on the shoulder as he tried to dodge the tangy fruit. “Seems you are too, Mist Foxmore.”
Born into fox-shifter families, our bloodlines ran long and true. Minnesota had been our home for three hundred years. The Lake of the Woods had two sides. The Minnesota side which was our side and the Canadian side. We didn’t venture to that side often. There were still a fair amount of fur trappers on that
side of the lake.
Plus, a real grumpy and sometimes very hungry creature loomed around the forest, making traveling outside our home territory, not such a smart thing to do. The Wendigo was thought to be a myth, but he was as real as we were.
Tall, over seven feet, the thing had a man’s body, very muscular and fit. Its head was that of a buck – a male deer with enormous antlers. It made the oddest noises of anything I’d ever heard. It mixed and mangled the sounds the forest animals made. Maybe it was trying to mimic them, I had no idea.
All I knew was that it was a fierce creature who used its sharp, vampire-like teeth to bite its victims then suck out only their bones. Bodies would be left on the forest floor, looking like deflated balloons. It was grotesque, to say the least.
Mist scooped up a mouthful of berries then made a run for it. With no idea what he was up to, I also grabbed some berries with my mouth, then ran after him.
When he stopped at the base of the tree we’d built a den under to stay in while on our excursion, I saw what he was up too as he put the berries into the hole.
I did the same and had to admit he was brilliant, “Well done, Mist. Storing food is a smart thing to do. Plus, we can have midnight snacks if there’s food in our den.”
“I’m always thinking ahead, Twi. You should try doing that too.” He pushed some dirt up to cover our stash.
“How right you are, cousin.” I pushed some dirt with my head to do my part. “You have made billions of dollars in the stock market. You certainly do know how to think ahead.” I’d merely made millions with the money I’d invested.
“That’s because I plan on living for a very long time and I would like to have nice things while I’m here.” He sat back on his haunches, licking his fur clean.
“When will you buy a home for a sweet, little vixen and cubs?” I teased him.
“When will you?” He wiggled his brows at me. “Confirmed bachelors ‘till the death, right?”
Holding up my right paw, I balled it into a tiny fox fist, and we pressed our knuckles together as we recited our bachelor vows, “No fair maidens, no damsels in distress, no hot little foxes - will us test. For we are free, fine, and fast. We are foxes who will last and last. Bachelors for life, yeah!” We’d made up the little chant long ago when the first vixen tested our bond.
“Trixie Foxarama,” Mist mumbled. “What a bitch.”
“I’ll say.” She was hot and she’d known that too. “Poor Malcolm.”
Mist and I looked skyward to send up silent prayers for the poor guy. Not that he was dead. It was far worse than death. Trixie had bagged the poor guy. Malcolm was an innocent human when Trixie found him.
Mist sighed. “We tried to tell him, Twi. We tried our best to let him know that Trixie was a real monster. But he didn’t believe us.”
“And now he’s her husband.” I shuddered at the thought. “Ugh.”
“Gross,” Mist added. “Marriage. Yikes. Some woman telling you what to do all the time. What to wear. How to act.” He growled as he turned in a circle three times before bedding down in front of the tree we’d call home for the week.
I did the same, tired after our hunt. With a stretch and a yawn, I laid my head on my paws as I curled up. “Like we need some dame to tell us how to dress.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Like we need a female to tell us when it’s time to eat and what we’re going to eat. We’re men, damn it! We’ll eat what we want – when we want.”
“And however much we want too,” I added. “Watch your weight.”
“Watch your mouth,” Mist went on.
“Watch me,” I said as I thought about how Trixie would want to model her stupid outfits in front of us, thinking she was turning us on. “Look at my new bra and panties.”
“Ha,” Mist laughed. “Did Trixie make my dick hard? Hell yes, she did. But come on – what female doesn’t when the time is right. You know what I’m sayin’ cuz?”
“Don’t I know it.” Females had this wild and crazy idea that if they could make a man’s dick stiff that it meant they loved them. “As if my cock can feel love.”
“Right?” Mist closed his eyes as he smacked his lips. “I need a short nap. Just a couple of minutes and I’ll be ready to go again. We’re going to need some meat in our den before nightfall.”
“Yeah, meat.” I loved meat. I loved it in all forms too. Especially female pussy. That’s the best.
And the great thing about pussy was that it was free. You didn’t have to marry any female to get some. At least you didn’t when you looked like me and Mist.
We could thank our family genes for that. We were, undeniably, hot. We’d both been told that from birth. We were a couple of hot foxes.
When you’re a hot fox, you don’t need a ring to get what you want. The females will gladly give it to you.
Except for Trixie Foxarama. She used her goods to trap a man. And she ended up trapping our good friend, Malcolm. After marriage, she delivered her bite and made him into a fox-shifter like us. Only he had a damn collar around his neck.
“Such a shame,” Mist grumbled. “Finally made into a free creature with eternal life and she had to go and ruin that for the man. Poor Malcolm.”
“Poor, poor Malcolm,” I agreed. “Seventeen kids and counting.”
“And only a five-bedroom mansion to raise them all in,” Mist continued.
“I would buy them something bigger, but Trixie would just overfill that mansion too.” I yawned again. “She’s such a bitch.”
“Yeah. Like, she’s always in heat. It doesn’t make any sense.” Rolling onto his back, Mist wiggled back and forth to scratch an itch. “How could she think that she’d ever trap one of us? She’s a damn fool.”
“Right?” I thought about how Mist, Malcolm, and I were all three avid nightclub goers and the best of friends. Trixie was out on the prowl, as usual. She asked me to dance. I told her to bug off. She asked Mist to dance. He told her to scram. She shook her ass right there in front of the three of us until Mist nor I could watch her any longer.
“We shouldn’t have walked away from Malcolm,” he said. “We just abandoned him.”
“I thought he’d went with you and you thought he’d went with me. How could either of us know he’d stayed with the she-devil that is Trixie?” Another shudder racked my body. “But you’re right. We shouldn’t have left him. We knew she was tricky.”
“Seventeen crying kids,” Mist mumbled as he began falling to sleep.
“I know.” My eyelids heavy, they closed as I tried to push poor Malcolm and his home – infested with fox-shifter cubs – out of my head.
Better him than me, I suppose.
Behind my eyelids, I pictured Trixie flaunting her taut body and long auburn locks as she’d tried to entice me one summer evening not too far from where we were now.
I’d been young, dumb, and full of cum. She’d been young, sly as ever, looking to mate for life. She was one of the rare few who had a father that would actually kill a male if he impregnated any of his daughters. Well, he’d kill him if the poor fellow wouldn’t agree to marry the bitch.
Seeing as I would never agree to a thing like that, I had to find the will to ignore her sexy tail as she wiggled it at me. It was hard at the time, but I had managed to overcome my erection and lived to see another day.
Marriage. Eight letters – one more horrifying than the next. M is for murder – as in please murder me if you ever find that I’ve been trapped into marriage. A is for asinine – as in the asinine conversations a man must have with his wife. R is for rifle – as in fetch me a rifle so I can blow my immortal head off. R is also for redundant – a thing a male has to become when a woman makes him into a father and his children keep asking the same damn question over and over. The answer is no, you brats! The I is for impotent, which every husband wishes he could become so his nagging wife would leave him be for once and just let him sleep. Another A is for agony – of course. The G is for garage – a thing ever
y man needs so that he can hide in it from his wife and kids. And last we have an E for eternal. Eternal damnation is what you will have after you exchange I do’s with a conniving bitch.
2
Valentine
Packing up the mystery van, my camera operator, Zoe seemed a bit bothered by my younger brother and sister, Chris and East. “So – I’ve got this, you guys. Really. No help is necessary. I just want to load your sister’s shit and git. You know what I mean?”
It’s not like they could help being so interested in what we were doing. My brother, Chris, picked up a notebook I’d put on the front passenger seat as he got out of Zoe’s way. “Val, are you serious about this? I mean, the Wendigo is not real.”
“I would like to find that out for myself. And our subscribers would like that as well.” Zoe and I had a following – fifty-thousand and rising – for our online channel, ‘Beast or Bullshit’.
My sister, East, rolled her eyes. She wasn’t much of a believer in legendary creatures. “Why you have a following, I will never understand. If Mom and Dad were alive, you would not be going out to the middle of the thick Canadian forest around The Lake of the Woods. Not because they would worry a Wendigo would eat you but because they would worry that a bear would. Or a wolf.”
“Or some sort of a huge cat,” Chris added. “Do they have lions in this part of the world? Or maybe tigers? I’m not sure what sort of wild, monster-sized cats lives out there in the middle of the thicket, but I bet you money that there are some. East is right, if Mom and Dad were still around, you would not be venturing out like this. You’re sort of taking advantage of their untimely demise, Valentine Martin.”