Garrick
The July evening heat beat down as I hammered the last tile into Shaya's sagging roof.
Sweat rolled between my shoulder blades like hot oil.
Only the Alpha of Black Pine got summoned for handyman duty, but Shaya had earned her favours since the ancient witch kept the worst of our moon-madness at bay with her poultices and wards.
Without her, the pack would have torn itself apart generations ago.
“Are you done yet? I would've finished by now.”
I growled, but the retort died in my throat as a scent hit me. It was wildflowers and warm skin and something sweetly human beneath. My muscles locked. My canines ached, sharp as bone shards.
brEED.
Valor, the beast in my blood, surged forward with a snarl that vibrated through my marrow.
The air thickened with her. She smelled like spring blooms, salt and something else.
It was so potent that it burned my nostrils.
It came from the mountain pass where hikers sometimes wandered. Close. Too close.
“Did you spray perfume, Shaya?” My voice came out ragged, my throat tight with the effort of holding back the shift.
The old witch's face split into a grin, her milky eyes gleaming like tarnished silver.
“What does it smell like, boy?”
I bared my teeth. “Like heaven dipped in sin.”
“You've caught the scent of your mate, fool.” She cackled, the sound like dry leaves crumbling. “Go on, then. Hunt.”
I leapt from the roof and froze. The scent was intoxicating-honey and wild thyme and the electric tang of her, but beneath it, there was no musk of fur. No iron-sharp bite of werewolf blood.
Human.
My stomach dropped. Lycans came from around the world to our compound, yet I got a weak human?
No. No, no, no.
My gums burned as my canines elongated, venom pooling thick and syrupy beneath them—laced with the moon's curse. Useless on a human during rut. No survival. Just agony.
And my seed? Worse.
Alphas didn't fuck gently. Our bodies were built to take, to knot so deep our mates screamed-not in pleasure, but in shock.
Human flesh wasn't meant to withstand that. She'd tear. She'd bleed.
She'd die with Valor's teeth in her throat and my cock locked inside her.
Pups? Impossible. Humans couldn't carry our young, not without the gene, not without the bite. We'd learned that the hard way centuries ago.
Valor snarled, the sound rattling my ribs like a second heartbeat.
brEED. TAKE. HURT. CLAIM.
The command ripped through my skull, white-hot and relentless. I clutched the porch railing, the wood splintering under my grip.
Shaya’s grin faltered. “What's wrong, boy?”
“She's human.” I hissed through clenched teeth. My jaw ached, saliva flooding my mouth. The urge to run and bite was like a live wire under my skin.
Shaya scoffed, waving a gnarled hand toward the cluster of cedar cabins nestled in the valley below, the pack's sanctuary, hidden from human eyes by her magic.
“And? You're Alpha of Black Pine. Strongest in this godforsaken nation.” She leaned in, her breath reeking of iron and old magic. “If the moon made her yours, she'll survive it. Or die trying.”
A growl ripped from me. It was conflicted, half protest, and half need. Valor lunged against my skull, howling.
“Bring her to me once she's pregnant,” Shaya murmured, her voice slipping into my mind like smoke. “I might be able to help.”
Her words barely registered as my mind leapt ahead to the woman my knot ached for. Somewhere in those trees, a human woman was breathing. Laughing. Living.
And the beast in me didn't give a fuck if she stayed that way.
The slow jog toward the tree line became a gallop. Above, the sky darkened streaks of crimson began to bleed through the pines. The moon wasn't out yet, but it was close.
Valor paced beneath my skin, claws scraping at my control. I didn't have long before he broke free. Before the chaos began.
We'd wait for the full moon and take her together.
I just hoped she'd survive us because only then would my bloodline endure.
◆◆◆
From a distance, I saw her olive-green hiker backpack that covered most of her body. It wasn't looking good for the human if she was the size of a one-hundred-and-twenty-litre camping bag. I panted through my mouth, trying not to inhale the delicious scent of wildflower sweat and—
Valor stopped me and forced me to inhale. One deep breath, expanding our lungs until my tongue slithered out to lick the air.
To taste her scent.
Her vaginal discharge seeped out beyond her clothing and caused tremors to race through my body. She was ovulating. I’d come across she-wolves in heat before, but they never had this kind of visceral effect. Drool dripped down the side of my mouth.
Her weak, round pupils darted across the trees searching, but I was a shadow among shadows.
She fumbled with her map, then bolted for the clearing like a rabbit sensing the hawk.
I discreetly followed behind her until she stood in the clearing, capturing the last of the sun.
Her bag landed on the forest floor, but my eyes weren't on the bag.
She might survive after all.
The dark beauty might be petite, but forged in muscle, her body was a taunt. A challenge. When she bent to stretch, her jacket rode up, revealing the twin curves of her ass. By the moon, they were built to take my weight, to meet every thrust.
Yes, she would take my knot. Again and again and again until her belly swelled with my seed.
brEED. MINE. TAKE.
Valor's roar split his skull. Claws tore into the earth, dirt packing beneath them like crushed bone. I gripped my knot, squeezing until pain blurred my vision—until all I saw was her stretching her other leg, those lethal thighs flexing, her breath a soft puff in the cold air.
Fuck the jacket. I needed to see all of her.
The African beauty wasn't just built to breed.
She was built to ruin.
I slithered closer until his scent assaulted me—a human male scent on what was mine. Valor raged, demanding blood.
All in good time. We’ll hunt and kill him slowly. Only our seed will flood her womb. His claws retracted, but the rage simmered, a low, endless growl in his chest.
Soon.