Real Men Shift Volume Two: Paranormal Werewolf Romance Boxed Set

by Celia Kyle

  “And we’ve come up with an alternate plan we think McNish might go for, if he’s faced with this kind of challenge,” Zeke added. “We’re hoping you’ll attend a meeting with us later to pitch the plan to him.”

  Persia’s stomach knotted and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead. Face to face with Dick McNish again. She’d done everything in her power to avoid even looking at the man for the last couple of years, and while she’d rather chew off her own arm than go to a meeting with him, the locals who’d trusted her enough to join forces needed her.

  “Present a united front, huh?” she mused, buying time to make a decision. “Will that Warren guy be there? You know who I’m talking about?”

  The pair beamed at each other. “We do.”

  “He’s nice and all, but between you and me, he’s a little pushy for my taste.”

  Zeke pinched his nose and coughed into his hand, giving Persia the distinct impression he struggled not to laugh.

  Valerie answered for them both. “That’s going to be tough because he’s actually the one who came up with the plan.”

  “Really?” Persia balked. “I didn’t think he had much more going on than a pretty face and a rockin’ bod.”

  It was Valerie’s turn to hide her amusement while Zeke took over the speaking role. “If it makes any difference, I personally guarantee he will be on his best behavior. And I think you’ll have a better impression of him afterward. So, will you come?”

  As much as she wanted to say no, she couldn’t back out. Her passion for the world they lived in overpowered her desire to avoid looking into Dick McNish’s cold, dead eyes again. Looking up to face Zeke, she caught him glaring at her wolf before quickly meeting her gaze. Weird, but everything about this protest had been weird.

  “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  Chapter Seven

  From the back seat of Zeke’s SUV, Warren glared out the window. The day had started so beautifully by spending time with his mate, but then Zeke and Val just had to come along and spoil everything. He chanced a glance at them, and sure enough, they were still smirking. Crossing his arms in a huff, he turned back to the window. A view of kudzu was a million times better than their smug asses.

  “So, how long are you planning on trying to melt her heart as a wolf?” Zeke asked the question, ending on a snicker.

  “Don’t,” Warren grunted.

  “Gonna ask her for a bone on your first date? Get it? Bone?”

  “Does Val still feed you kibble?” Warren snapped. “Oh yeah, I heard all about it.”

  “Fucking Levi,” Zeke growled, scowling at the road while Val barked out a laugh.

  The kibble incident after their first meeting would live forever in infamy, though Warren had convinced Levi, who’d witnessed the whole thing and couldn’t wait to share it, to never tell another soul or Zeke might have his head on a stick. Still, he wasn’t above using the little nugget to his own advantage.

  “Look, man, I’m on your side,” Zeke scratched at the scruff on his face. “All I’m saying is the lady may think wolves are cute and fluffy, but how’s she supposed to fall in love with you? You’re barking up the wrong tree, my friend.”

  “He’s barking up the right tree,” Val corrected. “The problem is the fact he’s barking.”

  “Fuck my life,” Warren groaned under his breath and pressed his hot forehead to the cool glass. “I get it. I’m just taking what I can get as far as spending time with her goes. You heard her. She doesn’t even like me all that much. How the hell am I supposed to convince her she’s my mate?”

  Val turned in the passenger seat to face him. “First of all, stop thinking in terms of ‘your mate.’ She has no idea what that means. It will fuck with her mind, and I say that as someone who was in her shoes not so long ago. Wait—” she looked over at her mate “—are Birkenstocks shoes or sandals?”

  Zeke slapped the steering wheel as he chortled. “They’re an abomination, if you ask me.”

  Val smiled and rolled her eyes. “Whatever. My point is that it took me a while to wrap my head around the whole shifter thing in general when Chloe explained it to me back in college. Otherwise, I would have totally flipped my shit when I met Zeke.”

  “What do you suggest then?” Warren was desperate for any scrap of advice that would result in Persia falling head over heels for him.

  “I dunno. Ease her into it. Go slowly. Treat her with respect. Maybe learn her real name, because… come on, Moonshadow?”

  That set Zeke on another laughing fit. Ignoring his alpha, as well as Val’s suggestion, Warren leaned forward. “How did you react when Chloe told you?”

  “Um, about the same way you would if you caught your roommate turning into a mermaid and flopping around on the floor.”

  Warren waved away the analogy. “But how did she tell you?”

  “I don’t recall the dirty details. I accidentally saw her shift and she sat me down to explain it all.”

  “What kind of questions did you ask her?”

  Val and Zeke shared a grim look, and Warren knew exactly what they were thinking at each other. Poor bastard. He didn’t care. He needed hope, and at that moment, Val was his best chance.

  “I gotta be honest, Warren. The only big question I had was how she got anything done when she was able to lick her own pussy as a wolf.”

  Zeke nearly drove them into a ditch from laughing so hard.

  Warren was far from amused. “Come on, you guys. I’m flying blind here. Tell me this. How long did it take for you to, as you said, wrap your head around it?”

  “I don’t really remember,” Val shrugged. “A week? Maybe as long as six months to really accept it? Hard to say, it was so long ago.”

  “Six months! I really care about this woman, but I don’t want to scare her so badly she winds up in a mental hospital. Help me out.”

  “Hey, I’d bet good money she already believes in aliens and ghosts.” Val flashed him another grin. “You’ve got that going for you. Maybe it won’t be such a leap.”

  “Listen, Warren,” Zeke chimed in, “I’m just giving you shit. You’re a really good guy. You just gotta take it slowly and let her get to know the real you, not just the meathead. But don’t take it too slowly or she’ll think you’re not interested. Just the perfect amount of slow.”

  Warren rolled his eyes and slumped back into his seat. “Right. Great. Thanks for nothing.”

  The big rig rumbled into the McNish Development Corporation’s Tremble headquarters. Everyone in the pack had come to hate the site of the shiny new construction trailer, mostly because it served as a highly visible reminder that McNish wasn’t going anywhere.

  As they climbed out of the SUV, a familiar face caught Warren’s eye. And judging by the way Zeke’s hands clenched into tight fists, his alpha had spotted the man, too. Randy Leeper, the asshole who’d shot Little Hux’s arm with his hunting rifle and nearly killed Max, happened to be McNish’s head wolf hunter. He even wore the camo to prove it, though his hunting rifle was nowhere to be seen. He was cupping something in his hands, but it was too small to see.

  Leeper looked up as they approached and smiled broadly, as if welcoming old friends, and then started toward them. Zeke stopped in his tracks, tensing and getting a little furry around the collar. This was not the time to get into a brawl in the parking lot, but before Warren could hold Zeke back from ripping out Leeper’s throat, Val stepped in front of her mate.

  As former military, Val followed the line of command to the letter. Her habit to protect her superior officers was deeply engrained. Even though Zeke was also her mate, he was the alpha of the pack, and she saw it as her duty to be his first line of defense. Within the confines of their relationship, they were equals, but where the pack was concerned, Zeke was the leader and he needed to remain safe. Warren stepped up just behind Val, in case something bad went down.

  The closer Leeper got, the less it seemed he wanted a fight. He had a sort of dreamy look on his face and almost f
loated toward them. Instead of punching her, he pulled Val into a classic one-armed, Southern-style side hug.

  Warren glanced back to see Zeke seething at the sight of a strange man—an enemy to boot—touching his mate, but before he could shift and tear the asshole to pieces, Leeper turned to Zeke and repeated the hug. When he grabbed Warren for a hug, they all looked at each other in confusion. Was it some kind of subversive tactic? The hunters had tried that once, but Valerie had pointed it out so they wouldn’t get sucked in. But this…this was off-the-charts weird.

  “Look!” Randy began with the enthusiasm of a child, releasing Warren and holding out his hand.

  Warren was almost afraid to look. It would have been right up Randy’s alley to have something deadly that would kill them all in an instant. But one glance stunned Warren more than the hugs.

  Three tiny yellow flowers lay on his big, calloused palm. One by one, he passed a flower to each of them, smiling as if he’d just handed over the Crown Jewels.

  “Ain’t they purty?” His voice was filled with wonder. “Imma go find more.”

  Without so much as another look at them, he spun around and walked away with a spring in his step that could almost have been mistaken for skipping. They watched him for a long moment before Val whispered, “What the fuck was that?”

  “Remember, Cassandra said she put a spell on him to keep him from hunting wolves,” Zeke murmured under his breath, staring after the guy. “Maybe that seed she planted went a little deeper than she expected.”

  “As long as it keeps him off pack lands, I’m happy,” Warren muttered and the others agreed with solemn nods.

  “Don’t get too comfortable,” Val warned. “It could just as easily be some kind of ruse to make us lower our guards.”

  Dropping the flowers in the dirt, the trio stomped up the steps to the trailer’s door, Zeke in the lead. He threw the door open with relish, letting it slam against the side of the trailer—and hopefully marring its shiny exterior. A middle-aged woman stood and smiled at them.

  “Good afternoon.” Her tone was perfectly pleasant, though a flicker of wariness sparked in her eyes. “You must be the, um, homesteaders. Please, have a seat around the conference table.”

  Zeke ignored her outstretched arm pointing toward the table and glowered at her. “Where’s Dick?”

  She pressed her lips together at his rudeness. “Mr. McNish will be here shortly. Now, if you’ll just—”

  Zeke held up a hand. “That’s alright, ma’am. We’ll wait for our attorney to arrive.”

  The woman stiffened and then nodded tersely and left them alone in the trailer. The space was set up with a handful of desks for various workers, a small snack station with a coffee maker, and an artist’s renderings of the proposed condos McNish wanted to build in Wolf Woods. They looked pretty much like every other condo ever built—sterile and tightly controlled. Nothing like the lush wildness of the woods.

  The putt-putt-putt of a small diesel engine sputtering into the parking lot set Warren’s heart pounding. She’d arrived. Any second now, his mate would walk through the door and the razor’s edge of frustration he’d been tiptoeing along since lunch would level out and give him firmer footing.

  He sensed Persia’s tension before she even opened the door. Smiling just a little too brightly, she greeted everyone as she breezed in like nothing troubled her. Warren wasn’t a fashionista, but the outfit she’d changed into looked vintage. Her calf-length flowing floral skirt ended in vibrant pink-and-yellow striped knee-high socks tucked into scuffed brown leather clogs. Her purple peasant blouse offered a delicious peek at her shoulders, and Warren suddenly found himself fantasizing about kissing that creamy, soft neck as far as the fabric would allow. Shaking the image from his head—for the moment—he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at her unique style. Probably not what one would expect from a lawyer, but somehow, she pulled it off flawlessly.

  Persia brushed past him, her sweet candy scent filling his nostrils as she ignored him and took a seat near the head of the table. Everyone followed suit, Warren settling directly across from her. He wanted to be close, but not scare her off. He also wanted a good view of her face, not just because it was the loveliest he’d ever seen, but maybe he could pick up clues about what was bothering her if he could watch her expressions.

  The trouble was she barely lifted her head from the papers she pulled out of her soft-sided briefcase, almost as if she was avoiding his gaze. The uneasy silence grew more uncomfortable as she shuffled through some files and organized them neatly in front of her. Something was definitely eating at her. He wanted to ask what. He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her. Tell her that whatever she was nervous about would work out just fine, as long as they were together. But she wasn’t ready. He knew that and hated it.

  When she finally lifted her face and graced him with her stunning bi-colored eyes, Warren thought he’d died and gone to heaven. “Zeke and Val tell me this was all your idea.”

  All he could manage was a weak nod.

  “Well,” she continued, stiffening her back until it was ramrod straight, “good job. This is just the kind of thing that could save Wolf Woods.”

  Her tone remained neutral, as if giving him a compliment was the hardest thing for her to do, yet Warren felt as if he’d just won an Academy Award, or even better, a Nobel Peace Prize. Heat flooded his face and he scratched behind his left ear in his discomfort.

  “Um, thanks. Just, you know, doing my part.”

  Persia laid down the folder she’d been holding and leaned in toward him, her gaze locking onto his and not letting him go. Whatever was going on inside her had nothing—or at least almost nothing—to do with him, that much he could sense from her.

  “No, Warren. I really mean it. The plan you put together… It’s good. Really good. You gave us some serious firepower, and you should be proud of yourself.”

  The wall in her gaze began crumbling. Brick by brick, the distance she’d put between them fell away, revealing a yearning Warren had hoped for. In her blue right eye, he saw a life of love and laughter lasting until they were old, wrinkled and hobbled. In her brown left eye, he saw the cutest curly-haired pups growing into solid members of the pack and having pups of their own. Emotion burned the backs of his eyes as he searched hers to ensure it was real, but before he could, footsteps sounded on the metal staircase leading to the trailer door.

  And the wall slammed back up.

  Warren blinked in confusion, not only at the abrupt change, but at the anxiety wafting off her in plumes. But he didn’t have time to puzzle it out. McNish was on his way so he had to bury his troubles, just as she did. When the door opened and McNish strolled in, Persia straightened and returned her eyes to her files.

  “Apologies for my tardiness.” He oozed dishonesty and arrogance. He wasn’t the least bit sorry. More than likely, his late arrival had been a deliberate attempt to throw them off their game. To add insult to injury, he didn’t even bother looking at them as he approached the table. He was too engrossed in his phone, or at least he pretended to be.

  Glancing up briefly, he found Zeke and tipped his head. The alpha glowered, unable to rein in his hatred for the man who was responsible for nearly killing two members of the Soren pack. Val’s expression remained as stony and impassive as ever, but Warren sensed her rage simmering just under the surface. If the man so much as looked at Zeke the wrong way, she’d be on him like a tiger on an injured wildebeest. McNish barely skimmed past Warren, dismissing him as irrelevant, and then his gaze landed on Persia.

  Blinking in surprise, McNish lowered his phone and stared at her while she lifted her chin defiantly and stared right back. Warren had only had a few interactions with the man, but he never would have imagined McNish would ever reveal his true feelings about anything. Yet it didn’t take a mind reader to see McNish’s shock.

  “Oh,” McNish half-laughed, half-choked out. “Hi, princess.”

  Without missing a beat,
Persia spoke the last words Warren ever expected.

  “Hi, Daddy.”

  Chapter Eight

  The tension in the trailer intensified so much Leaf’s favorite potato starch-based spork could have sliced it. Every cell in Persia’s body flipped into defense mode, as her body did so often when confronted with such insane levels of awkwardness. Still, she refused to look away from her father first. Taking a page from his book, she wouldn’t let her true feelings show, no matter how difficult. Not only for the sake of preserving her reputation with her new friends, but also with her father. As twisted as his ethics were, he was shrewd. He knew which buttons of hers to push because he’d installed them when she was just a child. But she hadn’t been his sweet little princess for a very long time.

  Looking up at the old man he’d become, Persia didn’t see a doting father. She saw trouble. She saw her enemy. She saw red. The years-long battle between them had yet to be settled and probably never would. They were too different and too similar. Stubborn, headstrong, relentless. They’d stop at nothing to win, but for very different reasons. Persia fought for the betterment of the planet. Her life centered around self-sacrifice while her father was all about sacrificing anyone who got in his way. They were diametrically opposed, standing stubbornly at the two poles, glaring at one another across a courtroom or a construction site or a meeting table, on and on forever. Would it ever end?

  Probably not. At least not until one of them died.

  Her friends—if they still considered themselves to be—exchanged confused looks. At that moment, they probably thought asking her for help had been a mistake, that she was a double agent or something. Understandable. Their little mountain community seemed really tight-knit with lots of familial ties. They couldn’t possibly understand how Persia could turn her back on her father and become his foe. She’d loved him once upon a time, but he’d left too much destruction in his wake for her to ever respect him again. And not just environmentally.