First Bite - Shifter Romance Box Set: Anthology of First in Serials and Series Read online

  He sensed Atsa studying him, and wondered whether the old coyote approved of him as Twin Moon’s new alpha. Of course, his father was still nominally in charge, but everyone knew the handover of power had already begun.

  Atsa gave a cryptic nod and made for the open door then for his truck outside. In forty minutes, the old coot would be back on his home turf, west of the ranch. South of their territories was Seymour Ranch, whose human owners were ignorant of their neighbors’ special abilities. The northern edge of wolf country melted into the rugged hills, unclaimed and largely unwanted land, and the highway delineated the eastern edge of their realm. Trouble in the form of rogues could come from any direction, and the pack would have to protect everyone. Humans, too. If the rogues started taking outside victims, there’d be investigations, unwanted attention.

  He ignored Tina’s hint of a cough. The others assembled in the council house could wait for his dismissal until he was good and ready to give it.

  As the coyotes drove off, he shook his head. Had he really been wishing for a challenge? Now he had it — trouble on two fronts. His eyes slid in the direction of the guest house.

  There couldn’t have been a worse time.

  Chapter 4

  The dining hall was filled with aroma and noise: the honey-tinged fragrance of roast ham, the sugary smell of sweet potato, the babble of voices. But all Ty heard — or tasted — were hushed tones and whispered warnings. Communal dinner night was a twice-weekly event at the ranch, and for him, it was a chance to discretely touch base with his most trusted men. Ty wanted them to be ready for the worst while keeping news of the rogues quiet. There was no need to alarm the others.

  Yet.

  Around him, voices chattered, plates clattered. Most of the hundred-plus shifters living locally were in the dining hall, plus a few from more isolated parts of the ranch. Like Kyle, the cop turned shifter who was approaching the head table now. Kyle was the newest member of the pack, and he hadn’t settled in yet — if he ever would. You could tell from the twitch of his eyes, his constantly clenched jaw. If it hadn’t been for Tina’s soft spot for outcasts, a loose cannon like Kyle would never have been admitted to the pack. But Tina had been right to back him. Kyle hadn’t caused any trouble, except maybe for stirring up jealous rivalries among the women. He’d proven valuable time and time again, providing inside information from state law enforcement agencies.

  “You’ve got nothing?” Ty demanded, keeping his voice pitched low. Not that anyone dared sit close enough to him to overhear…at least not without an invitation. Only Tina, who tilted the vegetable bowl at him in another hint. Although she was younger than him, she’d started mothering him a long time ago.

  Kyle shook his head bitterly. The man hated failure nearly as much as Ty did. “Nothing to pin down the rogu—” he broke off the word sharply, perhaps considering how close he himself had come to turning rogue. He looked around, then leaned closer. “Not yet.”

  “Not yet,” Ty muttered, then dismissed Kyle with a curt wave.

  A little too curt, maybe. He caught the sag in Kyle’s shoulders, the tightening of his jaw. A reaction he’d seen a thousand times when packmates turned away with his father. His shoulders stiffened. Did he really want to be the same way?

  “Just keep on it,” he added, a little softer than before. His version of soft was still on the pebbly side, but hell, at least he was trying.

  Kyle’s cheek quirked — the closest either one of them ever got to a smile — and he turned and left.

  Ty glanced down to find mere scraps on his plate and tried to recall what he’d just shoveled down for dinner. He could barely remember going through the motions of eating. Well, rogue or no rogue, he wouldn’t let dessert get by him that easily. Not with key lime pie on the menu. He shoved back from the table and stalked across the room, barely acknowledging the packmates scurrying out of his way.

  Cody was already at the dessert table, helping himself to a double serving as he joked to the person next to him. “Aren’t you worried about getting fat?”

  Ty stiffened when he saw who it was: Lana, waiting her turn. She crinkled her nose at the comment. “You’re the one with two pieces.”

  Sassy thing. She’d probably burn through a thousand calories just fidgeting at the table.

  Sensing his presence, Cody froze, then grabbed the nearest woman and made a quick exit. “Beth, honey! Going to the movie tonight?”

  Lana watched them go with an amused expression that faltered the moment she spotted Ty. “Hi,” she mumbled, her eyes meeting his. The blue hues of her irises were so varied and vivid, he could swear they were swirling and changing as he looked on.

  “Hi,” he said. Well, he tried to. His lips moved but the sound didn’t quite make it out. He struggled to remember where he was and why.

  Right, dessert. He reached for a piece of pie exactly when Lana did. Their hands froze halfway to the platter, both wavering over the key lime pie. The last slice.

  “Cody!” He cursed under his breath.

  Lana pulled back. “You take it.”

  “No, you.”

  Her eyes narrowed at him. Crap. He hadn’t meant for it to come out as an order, but she was already gritting her teeth.

  “No, you,” she ground out.

  “I’m good.” He tried taking the edge off his voice, but he was badly out of practice.

  Lana studied him so closely he would swear she could see into his childhood memories. Her nostrils flared, and he saw her catch a breath and hold it. Then she slowly exhaled and turned to the platter, scooping the last piece onto the last plate. She forked it roughly in half and held it between them with icy determination.

  “We’ll share,” she growled.

  The alpha in him both bristled and admired her pluck. The wolf licked his lips — and not for the pie.

  Her eyes flickered, focusing on something in his. He noticed an outer edge of green in her eyes that he’d missed before, like the foam that slid off the crests of waves.

  “Trouble today?” she asked, keeping her voice down.

  Trouble? So she’d noticed the meeting. “No trouble,” he insisted.

  She snorted. “I do that, too.”

  “Do what?”

  “Pretend.”

  Ty blinked. “I don’t pretend.”

  “Then what’s the trouble?” She took a bite of pie and licked a smudge of cream off her lips.

  A breath caught in his throat, and a word slipped past his lips before he could catch it. “Rogues.”

  Her face hardened as some dark memory rocketed through her eyes. “Confirmed report?”

  “Not yet, but…”

  She nodded, letting him trail off. In an absent movement, her right arm rubbed briefly over her left, where a wicked scar trailed out of her sleeve.

  “Trouble?” he murmured, eyes on the scar. For a shifter to scar, it must have been bad.

  She yanked the sleeve down. “No trouble.”

  I do that, too, he wanted to say. Pretend. His gut warmed with something strangely close to pride. This East Coast wolf wasn’t just sassy; she was tough.

  Lana shrugged and brought her fork up to her mouth. “You should see the rogue who gave me that scar. Except he’s dead, along with his pals.” She took a vengeful bite.

  He wondered just how many rogues there’d been against how many on Lana’s side. He was about to ask when a voice shoved between them, wielding a sledgehammer.

  “Ty! Ty!” He felt a soft arm slink around his and fought the instinct to flinch. “Ty, I’ve missed you,” Audrey murmured, her tongue all but making contact with his ear. He eased out an elbow, trying to edge away from her fleshy breasts. The bleached blonde turned to give Lana a predatory smile. “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Ty?”

  He cast a desperate eye around the dining hall. Where was Cody when he needed him? “Audrey, meet Lana,” he murmured, searching for a way out.

  “Hmpf,” Audrey said by way of greeting. “You’ll get
fat eating all that pie.”

  He could tell a retort was trying to itch its way out of Lana, but she swallowed it along with another bite of the pie. He needed to brush Audrey off, pronto. What if Lana thought he actually went for Audrey’s type? He shot a mental command across the room. Cody, get your ass back here now!

  “Staying long?” Audrey asked of Lana. His ears leaped to attention.

  “Just a few days.”

  Why the rush?

  “Will we see you later?” Audrey asked. “It’s movie night, you know.” She nestled closer and gave him a bedroom look, like she couldn’t wait for the lights to go down. “You’re coming, aren’t you, Ty?”

  He shook his head. “Work.” Thank God.

  “We have our own little theater, you know,” Audrey boasted to Lana. “The boys converted the old barn.”

  “Nice.” Lana nodded. “But I prefer open space.”

  His wolf perked up his ears, liking what he heard.

  “So you won’t be coming?” Audrey didn’t sound disappointed. “Too bad. You could stuff your face with all the popcorn you like.”

  Lana sidestepped the jab. “I need to run.”

  God, I could use a run, too.

  “Are you sure that’s safe?” Audrey asked, looking hopeful that it wasn’t.

  He shrugged, trying to dislodge Audrey’s arm. “Just keep to the property.”

  Lana nodded, venturing the slightest smile. Ty itched to reach out and coax the rest out of her, but his fists stayed clenched by his sides.

  “Audrey!” Cody appeared, flashing a Broadway grin. The cavalry had finally arrived. “How’s my girl?” he said, stooping to give Audrey a peck on the cheek.

  She gave him a halfhearted kiss. “One of your girls, you mean.”

  “Life is short, sweetheart.” With a wink that could have been aimed at Ty, Lana, or Hollywood, Cody danced Audrey away, murmuring about back row seats in the theater.

  They slipped out of the periphery of his vision and immediately ceased to exist, at least as far as he was concerned. The room began to hum and throb, and his vision narrowed to a tunnel that pushed out everything but Lana. Her eyes pulled him in and made his heart thump low and hard. Or was that her heart? They were only inches apart now. The air shimmered around them like noontime heat over the desert. When she leaned closer, his wolf whined. What he wouldn’t give to circle her now, rub along her side—

  “Ty!” A cacophony of voices and clinking tableware suddenly filled his ears. Kyle was approaching him, and the room was pulling back into focus. “Ty, about the patrols…”

  In his haze, he felt Lana press the dessert plate into his hands and slip away. He reached for her too late, his hand clutching air, then balling into a fist. His body ached with every step she took, and he willed her eyes to touch him one more time. He wished for it the way he’d once yearned for the freedom to be his own person, to choose his own destiny.

  Destiny, however, had just turned its back and was walking away.

  Just as he was about to give up hope and tune in to Kyle, though, Lana turned and pinned him with a steady gaze.

  A shot of warmth flooded through him and without thinking, he put the fork into his mouth, licking past the key lime pie to the last hint of Lana. She turned away then, and he spent the next half hour buzzing from the high.

  She’d felt the pull, too. Which could only mean one thing.

  Trouble. Pure trouble.

  Chapter 5

  The desert was dark and inviting, the perfect night to run. Lana stripped, then shifted just outside the guest house, needing the run badly. Anything to escape the feeling that heartbreak lurked behind every corner.

  Little bits of cottonwood fluff stuck to her fur, tickling her nose as she ran ever higher and farther into the hills. She splashed across a thirsty creek and scrambled up a gully, then paused to shake out her fur. It was a glorious, full body shake that started at her nose and traveled all the way to the tip of her tail. What yoga did for her human body, a good shake did for her wolf.

  She’d never felt this off-kilter before her arrival in Arizona. Make that since meeting Ty. The hum that had filled her ears in the dining hall was just an echo now, but it was still too loud to ignore. For years, she’d schooled her emotions, but now she was sliding off the edge of control — a feeling her wolf welcomed as much as her human side feared.

  Her mind was spinning, her heart thumping. She felt alive, revived from a decade-long sleep. For the longest time, the only thing she’d felt any passion for was work, and she’d thrown herself into it. Submerged herself, even. Until now, she’d been too numb to feel like she’d missed anything.

  But now, she wanted more. Life. Love. Passion.

  All of it! her wolf cried.

  It didn’t matter that warning bells were clanging through the human part of her mind, telling her she was falling for a trick of the desert all over again. She’d felt exactly the same flicker of hope on her first visit to Arizona, only to leave bitter and broken-hearted. But since hope felt better than despair, she let her wolf take over. Let herself live, maybe even love.

  She ran to the top of a rise, reveling in the power of her legs. To the east, parallel ribbons of red and white pulsed: the highway. In the foreground lay the muted lights of the ranch, half hidden behind sloping roofs. Over there was Jean’s low duplex, the left half of which was now Nan’s home. Everything was quiet, orderly, and apparently safe. But danger pressed in at the edges of the ranch; the world was full of it.

  Her eyes jumped over a gap of darkness to an outlying house, an L-shaped adobe with wide windows and long, narrow skylights. Strips of tungsten light radiated between thick roof beams, glowing yellow against the indigo of the night. The way the house was perched at the far edge of the property suggested it might pick up and run clear into the desert if not for the split-log fence that surrounded it. She wondered who lived there, so far apart from the rest.

  Then something stirred inside and — click — the lights went out. The house collapsed into brooding shadow as an owl hooted nearby. She cocked her head at the house. Who, who indeed?

  She took off again, listening to her four paws scrape over the rocky ground in a steady tempo with the beating of her heart. On the next hilltop, she stopped, swung her head west and sniffed. There was something familiar out there in the wild. Something forbidden and oh-so tempting. She sniffed again, but just couldn’t capture why this particular place, this rocky outcrop beside a spiky patch of cliffrose called to her. She turned a slow pirouette, taking in the princely view. She was flooded by the scent, the place, the memories.

  The prickly tickle of sage, the smoky taste of mesquite, the fragrance of sycamore. Wrapping it all together like the curtain of night was a subtler scent that was unique and individual. Something piney, almost masculine.

  She stopped short, then sniffed again, letting her nose peel back the layers in the air, one by one, until she’d dissected them right down to its essence — and froze in realization. Could it really be?

  She swayed on her feet. The scent that drove her wild, that had stayed with her all these years — it wasn’t the scent of the desert. It was Ty.

  It was him, driving her crazy. Him, stirring her passion.

  But how could that be? She searched her memories of her first visit to Arizona, years back. Somehow, she’d missed meeting Ty. Had he been away? One way or another, she’d caught his lingering scent. At that time, she’d put the intoxicating scent down to a trick of the desert and not an individual. But she’d been wrong. It was Ty.

  For some reason, fate hadn’t seen fit to deliver on that promise, all those years ago. All she’d been given then was a tiny hint, but it had been enough. In all the dark moments in the past twelve years, she’d cheered herself by imagining the desert: the space, the freedom, the sense of possibility. That crazy feeling of belonging.

  Ty had been with her all along. No wonder her dreams were filled with red-rock mesas and vast, open spaces ins
tead of the deep green woods of her home. No wonder the dry desert air soothed rather than scoured her throat. No wonder she’d never met a man who’d stirred her interest before. She’d been waiting for Ty without realizing it.

  Ty, her destined mate.

  The more she breathed in the view from this mesa high above the ranch, the more it made sense. As a shifter matured, so too did his scent. But that didn’t mean the essence of it changed. It was like looking at a baby picture; the connection seemed so obvious once you linked the smooth features of the baby with the rugged adult.

  That’s what her instincts had been trying to tell her all along. He was her destined mate!

  Far in the recesses of her mind, a voice warned that this was all much more complicated than it seemed. But she was in wolf form, and wolves had a way of simplifying things. He was hers, she was his.

  Lana touched her nose to the cool earth and sniffed, delighted to find more traces of Ty. He’d spent time here, lots of it. His scent was everywhere, and it worked on her like a drug. She rolled on her back and wiggled, insisting it keep her company. Once, years ago, she’d had a similar feeling of something wonderful hanging just out of reach. Now it was just her and the stars and the same enchanted place, and for one moment, she let herself give in to it all and hope.

  Hope? The human part of her mind wondered if she really dared.

  * * *

  Ty flipped off the lights in his house, stepped outside, and shifted. When his body needed it most, the process was smooth, more thrilling than painful. When it was forced, shifting could be agony as cartilage stretched and bones realigned. Tonight the change from one body to the other was so seamless he barely noticed it. A moment later, his wolf gave a settling-in shake and took off at a hammering run.

  By day, the desert slumbered, but at night, it pulsed with life. Cacti breathing, cereus blooming from the tips of their leaves. Birds and jackrabbits flitted from cover to cover; even the hills seemed awake. He inhaled it with every weary breath. He knew every tussock and every stone, yet the desert’s mood was different every night. There was always something hidden, unexpected.