Shifter Babies of America Box Set 1

by Becca Fanning

  “More,” she begged and he knew immediately what she meant. She pulled at his clothes, running her hands beneath his shirt and fingering his solid muscles. He yanked off his shirt and then his pants. His underwear cupped him perfectly and she licked her lips in anticipation. In a second, they were both naked, bare and waiting for one another. His warm hands ran over her body as he hovered above her and then entered her. Their fingers interlaced as he rocked against her, pumping inside her. They became synced in perfect harmony until finally, with a final movement, they brought each other to the ultimate end of pleasure.

  She collapsed against him in bed. Her chest rose and fell, trying to catch up. She threw a hand over her face in contentment. His fingers trailed the edges of her curves as they reclined among the soft sheets.

  “You weren’t supposed to happen,” she informed him. He smirked, a wolfish expression taking over his face as it often did. She stared at his glittering eyes.

  “To be fair, I can say the same thing about you.” His hand played with the mark against her neck, a sensitive spot that sent a wave of pleasure through her body. “To think a human woman could tame me.”

  In the early morning hours, they were tangled together in her bed. He sniffed her hair, muttering that it smelt of roses as they drifted off to sleep. She smiled to herself. The to-do lists of work were a worry for tomorrow. Vanessa would be gaping at the mark on her boss’ neck. Ginger would have to wear a cute scarf tomorrow to keep her secret away from the prying eyes of Gray Creek.

  Epilogue

  Jack paused as he heard his mate curse for the fourth time. He picked his head up from her bed, still not used to the way that he now smelled lavender first thing in the morning instead of the forest. Ginger had switched to pine needle candles in the house to make him feel more at home, but her bed still smelled of her: strong and serene.

  “Shit!”

  He wondered if she’d woken up late for work. His eyes glanced at the clock. It was too early for her to even be up. He slid out of bed and padded down the hall to find her, hovering in the doorway of the bathroom.

  “Ging?” he asked. She whirled around and clutched something to her chest, hiding it from his view. His nostrils flared and his eyes widened. There was no mistaking that scent.

  “You know,” she said with a groan.

  “I can smell it,” he said and blinked in astonishment. “You’re pregnant.”

  “I must’ve missed a pill,” she muttered in a hurried voice and raked a hand through her hair. “I can’t believe I’m pregnant.” He paused.

  “Are you...happy?”

  She hesitated, a small smile playing on her lips. “I mean...I’m happy. I just— this is so soon.” He nodded, but an excited grin was already unfolding on his face. His mate was pregnant with his child. His mother would’ve paid big money to see Jack Wellington actually settled down with a woman, a human woman at that!

  He leaned down and kissed Ginger hard. She sighed into his embrace, relaxing her body against his. His hands braced her lower back, pushing her into him. He should’ve known. In the last two months, she’d been especially feisty at times and her breasts were becoming rounded. How had he not been able to sense it before?

  “I’m telling my clan that I’m staying her with my brother,” he told her. “I’ll open up a carpentry business here with Connor. We’re going to extend our clan beyond Alaska.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to drop on her thin nightgown. He brushed them away with the rough tips of his fingers. She shivered against his touch. Their lips found each other again.

  There was happiness in Gray Creek for him. This trip had led him to a place that he thought he already knew— a place called home.

  * * *

  FIN

  The Baby Shift: Colorado Prologue

  The night air smelled like fresh earth mixed with salt and steel. Fresh earth made up the new mound that now rose out of the ground in the middle of the aspen grove where Candor stood. He could taste salt in the hot tears rolling down his face that he made no move to wipe away. He could still smell the steel of the blood of his murdered brother still staining his hands.

  Candor tossed one last shovelful of earth over Xander’s grave, then let the shovel fall with a thud. He stared at the swollen ground, hating the thought of Xander in there, his body still and mangled. Someone had killed his brother. Someone had made sure the pain lasted a long, long time. Candor clenched his bloody fists, chest burning with hate. Someone, whoever they were, was going to pay dearly for Xander’s death.

  Even at the slightest thought of revenge, the animal in Candor growled, the sound reverberating through his bones. His mouth ached as his incisors elongated, threatening change. His fingers curled into claws.

  Candor ground his jaw and fought the transformation. He could not afford to lose control. Not now. Now that Xander was dead, it was his duty to take over the territory and prevent chaos from breaking loose. He would have his revenge soon, he promised himself.

  A sudden scent passed on the breeze. Candor jerked his head up in the direction of the smell. Someone was near. Another shifter. Candor realized he was upwind of the newcomer and cursed himself. Xander would never have allowed himself to be in such a vulnerable position.

  Candor turned and stood stoically in front of the new grave as if defending it. He let loose an animal growl. A challenge. I wouldn’t screw with me right now if I were you, he thought darkly. The anger and grief were like open wounds in his flesh, and a wounded animal was an animal you didn’t mess with.

  The aspen grove remained silent except for the stirring of branches in the wind. Then, a pair of golden eyes lit up in the shadows. A growl echoed between the tree trunks, answering Candor.

  Candor stared at the eyes for a moment, then let out a soft, bitter laugh. “Come and get it, you bastard,” he said in a dead voice.

  In a burst of movement, a massive cougar charged into the clearing yowling like a demon, heading straight for Candor.

  It only took Candor a few moments to shift. His beast had been clawing to get out for hours, and now he gladly let it free. His bones popped and remolded themselves until he could no longer stand on two feet. He lunged forward onto all fours, claws sprouting from his hands and digging into the ground. Pale yellow fur erupted all over his body as he bared his now elongated teeth. In seconds there was nothing left of his human self except the clothes hanging misshapenly from his body. He screamed at the challenger and charged.

  The two of them crashed together, making Candor’s head ring. He felt white hotness on the side of his head and realized his ear had been torn off. His fury spiked, drowning out the pain. He lashed out with a clawed paw, but his opponent sprang back. The other cougar’s face twisted up in a growl. Candor yowled a challenge. They both sprang and locked together in a heated moment, each wrestling to bury his fangs into the other. Suddenly, Candor felt his rear paw slide over a jagged rock, tearing his flesh open and throwing him off balance. His opponent lunged at the opportunity. Candor yowled as teeth sank into the flesh just above his shoulder. He waited for the fangs to pierce his jugular artery and end everything. Was he about to meet his brother in whatever afterlife was waiting for him? What would Xander say about Candor’s failure to protect the territory and the rest of the family? He imagined the grim look on his brother’s face and grit his teeth. He was not ready to face that. He didn’t think he would ever be ready.

  His enemy’s fang never touched his jugular. Candor screamed ferociously and twisted until the other cougar was forced to break his hold. The two of them danced apart, each now breathing hoarsely, their fur smeared with blood.

  The cougar was about to charge again. Candor could see it in his wicked golden eyes. He braced himself, baring his fangs and screaming.

  Just then another yowl pierced the thick air behind Candor. His opponent stiffened, gave him one last screamed growl, and wheeled back into the darkness.

  Candor took one step to pursue him
, but his shoulder screamed in pain. He grunted and collapsed partially onto one hip, the change already falling away from him as his rage burned out. His cougar limbs contorted back into that of a man. A very tired, beat up, bloody man.

  “What the hell was that?”

  Candor didn’t have to look back over his shoulder to know that it was Xander’s widow, Lani, but he looked anyway. The pulsing pain in his neck made him regret it. Lani was straightening up, just having changed back into a human herself. “Took you long enough,” he choked out, struggling to get back onto his feet.

  Lani watched him from the edge of the clearing with level black eyes. With her white-blonde hair and pale hiking attire, she looked like some sort of phantom haunting the woods. If anyone had a right to haunt this place, it was her.

  “Who was that?” Lani demanded. Even as she spoke her eyes strayed to the new grave rising out of the ground. Pain of a different kind rang through Candor as he saw tears shine in her eyes. He didn’t comment on them.

  Candor dragged himself to his feet and leaned against a tree trunk, still breathing heavily. “You didn’t catch his scent?” he asked.

  Lani shook her head. “Smelled like he was wearing a scent suppressant.”

  Candor wiped his nose. His fingers came away bloody.

  “This is bad, Candor.” Lani glared at him in that hard, steady way that meant she was worried. “If word gets out that you were challenged for the territory not hours after…” She glanced at the grave. Swallowed. “Not hours after taking ownership, then—”

  “I know Lani,” he said, forcing himself to talk softly. There weren’t a lot of people he chose to be tender with, but Lani had become one of them soon after Xander had taken her as his mate. “It’s bad. I’ll hunt the bastard down at first light tomorrow.”

  Lani rolled her eyes. “With that little goose bump? I don’t think so. We’re going back to the house.”

  Candor growled but didn’t argue. They both knew that however long it took, he would hunt down the shifter or shifters who had done this to him and his brother. He could take the night to rest and recover. Besides, his “little goose bump” hurt like hell, and it would take something a little stronger than iodine to make him feel better about it.

  Chapter 8

  Ava had never seen a shifter in real life. They were supposedly easy to identify with their deep golden eyes, but she had never come across one while living in her and her mother’s apartment in California. Colorado, on the other hand, was supposed to be full of shifters, particularly cougar shifters. The thought of meeting one face to face sent shivers of excitement down Ava’s spine.

  Not that she was here for the sightseeing, she reminded herself as she lugged her suit case up the front steps of her uncle’s country house. The last time she had been here, she’d been seven years old and her mom had been beside her hauling an even bigger suit case full of Christmas presents for her aunt and uncle. Now, thanks to the faulty brakes on a tram car back in California, she would never walk anywhere with her mother again.

  Ava’s throat ached with tears. She stuffed them back, refusing to break down in front of her extended family before they’d even shown her where her room was. There would be time for ugly crying later. Hopefully never.

  She mounted the last few steps and pounded on the door with her gloved hand. God, it was cold here, and it was only August. Back in California she would still be able to bask on the patio in shorts and a tee shirt.

  Ava heard voices and movement from inside. A moment later the door swung open and a small brown-haired woman with a warm face beamed out at her. “Ava, honey, welcome!” Ava was pulled into a hug that she didn’t have the energy to resist.

  “Hi, Aunt Pearle,” she said, knowing how tired she sounded. She pulled away and glanced around the brightly lit foyer. “Where’s Uncle Trent?” She wondered if the sight of her mother’s brother would make her feel better or worse. Would he be a beacon of refuge or a reminder of what Ava had lost?

  “He’s on his way over from the shed. Come in a sit down, please!” Pearle gestured down the hall directly in front of Ava. She remembered vaguely that it led to the den.

  Ava set her suitcase down. “Thanks, but I have a few more bags in the car.”

  Pearle waved dismissively. “I’ll send the boys out to get them. You must be tired.”

  Tired. Grieving. Homeless. Take your pick, Ava thought bitterly. Out loud she said, “Yeah. Thanks.” She didn’t feel incredibly grateful for anything at the moment, but her mom would have strangled her for speaking rudely to her relatives, especially after they’d offered her a place to stay after she’d been evicted from the apartment a few weeks ago. Ava had loved her barista job at the coffee shop around the corner, but it didn’t exactly hold its own against the staggering weight of rent, bills, and car payments.

  Pearle turned and yelled up the stairs. “Marcus! Peter! Come help with your cousin’s things, please!” Without missing a beat, she led Ava down the hall and into the spacious den. A couch and arm chairs were centered around a huge fireplace. No fire burned, but the room was warm and inviting.

  “Take a load off, honey,” Pearle encouraged, hovering over Ava until she’d found a seat on the sofa. She herself moved on into the big open kitchen. She talked to Ava across the marble topped island while she set a copper kettle on the stove and flicked the burner on. “We were all devastated when we heard the news,” she said in a bright but careful voice. “How are you handling everything?”

  Ava’s teeth ground. She reminded herself that none of this was Pearle’s fault. The woman was just trying to help, trying to be there for her. But I don’t want anyone to be here, a part of her growled. I just want to be alone and sad and broken for a while. Is that too much to ask?

  “We’re glad you were willing to come and stay with us,” Pearle went on, gliding smoothly over the unanswered question. “I know it was a bit of a trek.”

  Ava glimpsed the woman’s worn, wrinkled hands. She remembered the feel of her mother’s hands in hers while she’d faded away on that hospital bed. She knew the worst thing she could do was let her bitterness isolate her from the people who were trying to reach out to her.

  So, she met Pearle’s gaze, and smiled. “I’m glad you were willing to have me.” The words almost hurt physically, but Ava knew they would have made her mom happy.

  Just then a pair of young boys tromped in with the rest of Ava’s luggage.

  “Thank you, boys,” Pearle said, then turned to Ava. “These are your cousins, Marcus and Peter. They were years from being born the last time you were here.”

  “Hi,” Ava said. The boys gave wary hellos in return, regarding Ava like she was some injured animal their mother had found on the side of the road. They deposited Ava’s things near the couch and made for the backyard. Well, “sprawling woodland” was probably a better term for the area behind the house.

  Pearle came over with two mugs of hot tea. Ava took the one Pearle held out to her. “I would offer you sugar,” Pearle said, settling onto the couch next to her, “but we used the last of it this morning. I was planning to drive into town to shop once you’re settled in.”

  Yes, Ava wanted to say. Go shop for your sugar and leave me here with one fewer person to deal with.

  But she squashed the thought down. Clearing her throat, she said instead, “Mind if I tag along? I can always unpack later.”

  Pearle brightened. “Really? Are you sure? You must be exhausted from traveling.”

  Ava was beyond exhausted, but she had always been the kind of person who could hold out if she kept moving. Sitting on this couch with this warm mug of tea in her hands, she could feel her momentum slipping away from her. “I need to pick up a few things myself.” She tried a smile.

  The back door clattered open once again, but instead of Ava’s young cousins, her uncle Trent stepped into the room. He was heavier than she remembered, and nearly all of his dark brown hair had forsaken him, leaving the crown of his head
bare and shiny. He wore a flannel shirt, thick jeans, heavy work boots and work gloves.

  Trent’s deep-set hazel eyes found Ava and the wrinkles in his face smoothed out a little. “Ava, sweetheart. How are you doing?” He made his way over to her in three long strides and before she could say anything, he was sitting on the couch and his big arms were around her.

  After a moment, Ava hugged him back. Lightly. “Hi, Uncle Trent,” she sighed into his flannel shirt. “I’m hanging in there.” She pulled away and gave a small smile. “How about you?”

  Tears gleamed in Trent’s eyes. Ava wasn’t sure whether to be surprised or not. Her mother had never spoken much about Trent, so Ava knew little about what their relationship had been like. Still, Trent had been her mom’s brother.

  “We’re all holding out alright,” Trent said with a sad smile, patting Ava’s knee. He looked over his shoulder at his wife. “Did you show her where she’ll be staying?”

  “Not yet,” Pearle answered. “We were just heading out to the grocery store.”

  Trent frowned, turning back to Ava. “Don’t you want to rest, sweetheart?”

  Ava’s face was sore, but she kept smiling. “Like I was telling Pearle, I need to get some things for myself, too.”

  Trent shrugged. “Suit yourself.” To Pearle he said, “As long as you’re out, would you grab some of those bear traps that just came in at the hardware store?”

  Pearle’s face fell. “What do you need traps for? I thought you’d agreed—”

  “I agreed to keep to myself as long as those animals kept to themselves,” Trent interrupted, voice suddenly cold. “But they’re animals, dear. It’s not in their nature to keep to themselves and follow agreements. So, we have to take action to defend what is ours.”