Feral Hearts (Misfits of Mercy Ridge #1)

Chapter 1

Kiara

Iwatch, heart in my throat, as the knife slices through the air with the force of a gunshot, embedding itself in the demon obsessed with my best friend.

Ever’s mate may be an unhinged psychopath, but he’s her unhinged psychopath. And I can’t wrap my head around the fact someone managed to actually land a hit on the shadow demon.

The bounty hunter turns to her deranged ex boyfriend with a satisfied smirk, palm out in expectation. “Payment for the first before I take care of the rest.”

Ever’s asshole of a cheating ex boyfriend, Adam, frowns. “The job was for you to take out all four of them.”

The bounty hunter stares him down. “I’ve been in this business far too long to take out multiple targets without partial payment up front; that’s just asking to get screwed over, while you get everything you want. So fork over the first half of the bounty, then I’ll dispatch the rest.”

“As soon as you take care of the other bastards, you can keep the girls as payment,” the supreme douchebag counters. “Everest’s a center, so even if you don’t want her for yourself, she should fetch a good price in the right circles. More than what I owe by far. Consider her friend a bonus.”

Rude. The asshole is more than happy to sell me off, yet can’t even remember my name?

Let alone look beyond Ever to notice the mark on my inner wrist that’d increase my ‘sale price?’ I get Adam’s obsession with my best friend because as centers, we give our bondmates a serious power boost, but I seriously can’t fathom what she ever saw in this jackoff.

Even from here, I catch the flash of murder in the bounty hunter’s eyes as he pulls a gun and trains it on the asshole that hired him.

Murderers shouldn’t be that hot; it’s unfair, really.

How much work do they really have to put in if their victims are more inclined to drop to their knees in front of them than run away?

“I don’t deal in the skin trade. In fact,” he cocks the gun, “the people that do? I take care of pro bono.”

As soon as he pulls the trigger, Adam's hand snaps out, knocking the bounty hunter’s arm to the side.

And right towards me.

A hazy silver mist envelops me before the bullet can tear through my chest, and my stomach swoops with a sudden, disorienting rush.

When the mist clears, I’m twenty feet in the air, face to face with the bounty hunter who was hiding in the trees when we reached the forest clearing.

As I’m trying to regain my bearings, my foot slips, and I ‘accidentally’ smack Adam in the face with a flailing hand.

But the fall never comes. The bounty hunter snaps an arm around my waist, tugging me against his chiseled chest and holds me steady while simultaneously kicking Adam’s shoulder, sending him plummeting to the ground away from us both. Better him than me.

Fingers crossed he lands dick first on a rock.

“Are you alright? Did it hit you?” he demands, looking genuinely upset at the idea I was caught in the crossfire. As he skims his rough hands down my arms, searching for a gunshot wound, he suddenly sucks in a sharp breath, eyes widening and jerking away like I burned him.

What the hel- oh. OH. My gaze latches onto the inside of his wrist. Or more accurately, the new tattoo seared onto it that’s a perfect match to mine.

‘Fated mates are rare,’ my ass.

I knew it. Knew that the outside world was everything I dreamed of. Hitching a ride with Ever and her mates to run away from home may have been reckless, but this proves it was the right move.

Ever since I was little, I dreamed of my fated mate appearing and taking me away from that place, out into the real world. Someone that would fight for me, would love me, and I wouldn’t be alone anymore.

“Oh shit,” I breathe as reality creeps back in. I don’t even know his name.

Adam’s cursing draws everyone’s attention, and when I see him pulling his own gun, everything erupts into chaos.

Ever’s other mates tuck her behind them as Arson resurrects himself, appearing in front of her ex with a wide, malicious grin that drains all color from Adam’s face.

“You didn’t really think it’d be that easy to kill me, did you?

” In seconds, he has him disarmed and slammed against a tree.

Glancing around at the chaos with a clenched jaw, my savior tugs me more securely against him.

My thoughts are a whirlwind as he mists us both out of the forest to what I can only assume is his bedroom, or at least, what he considers a safe place to retreat.

Hopefully it comes with a bathroom, because if he keeps misting me around like this, I’m going to throw up.

Convenient? Sure. But it’s hell on the stomach.

For several weighted moments, neither of us speak, reeling at the revelation and unsure of where to go from here and simply taking each other in.

Dark hair that fades to a silvery blue is slightly overgrown, ruffled from the fight.

His facial hair is freshly trimmed, just barely more than a five-o-clock shadow, and his black t-shirt molds to his torso, matching a pair of combat pants.

Tattoos crawl up his arm and disappear beneath his shirt, but the biggest sense of danger comes from the wicked scar across one of his piercing teal eyes, so bright that there’s no hiding the fact that this man is a myst. One powerful enough that it dominates the air around him into submission.

He’s perfect. Everything I’ve ever wanted in a mate; dangerous, competent, and looks at me like I’m something precious instead of a burden.

“So, do you make a habit out of kidnapping strange women, or am I just special?”

He huffs in amusement. “You’re the first person other than me and Arson to even set foot in this room. My men know better than to ever attempt it.” He extends his hand. “Havoc Knight, but everyone calls me Vic.”

A thrill runs down my spine. There’s a natural dominance he exudes that’s like catnip to me.

Is there anything hotter than calm confidence?

The sort of power that doesn’t need to be stated; it’s simply a fact.

One that everyone in their presence can pick up on and respects.

Like the basilisk I would sneak off to feed back home.

He didn’t need to utter a single sound to warn other animals that he was a threat, the very air around him heavy with the silent promise of death.

Havoc? It’s hard to even breathe under the full weight of his attention.

High-fucking-five, Fates. Ten outta ten, you glorious forces of nature. Thrilled to find out I’m clearly your favorite.

I slip my hand in his. “Kiara.”

His fingers flex against my hand for a beat before he reluctantly lets go. “I need to finish dealing with that mess, if there’s even anything left of the man when Arson’s done playing with him.”

“You two are friends, then?” Makes sense. Arson’s a psychotic shadow demon madly in love with my best friend, and like attracts like. What little I know about Vic, he’s a killer for hire and can mist between locations in a similar fashion. Of course they run in the same circles.

“He’s my son.”

My heart skips a beat. Last thing I expected was for my mate to already have a kid, but hey, life happens.

Most people don’t wait around for the long shot of finding their fated mates.

I never really imagined having kids after what happened to my parents and seeing the burden it put on my brother to raise me, but Arson’s fully grown.

At this point, I just need to worry about birthday presents and bail money.

“Well, you did a great job raising him, he’s delightfully unhinged in all the best ways. Poor Ever, though; I’m going to make a million step-mom jokes.” I snort, realizing, “I’m pretty sure I’m younger than her, too. Oh, this is going to be so much fun.”

Vic goes rigid, paling a bit, but before I can ask why, he says, “I’ll be back shortly.” Silver mist wraps him in a shroud, and when it clears seconds later, there’s no sign of him.

Poor guy. I can only imagine how stressful raising that loose cannon was. I know Arson can handle himself, but I don’t blame him for worrying about his son when Ever’s ex is clearly off the rails, and not in the fun way.

While I wait, I may as well check out my new home. Sure, we haven’t had the official conversation to hash that stuff out yet, but it’s not like we can move into my nonexistent place-

“Oh god.” I freeze as it hits me. He has a son; what if he’s still with Arson’s mom? Does he have bondmates? Is some poor woman going to come home and find me in her mate’s bedroom?

No wonder he looked like he saw a ghost. Reality caught up with him.

Panicking now, I search the room for any clues.

It’d still break my heart, but at least I could prepare myself a little before Vic returns to let me down gently.

As I snoop, I try to talk myself off the ledge.

“He brought me home. He said nobody but the three of us have ever stepped foot in this room. That means something.”

Whether it means he’s single or a cheating bastard, only time will tell.

The walls are mottled grey stones, like something out of a castle, but that’s where the similarities end.

No fireplace, no windows. The only way in or out is a heavy door made of dark wood and iron, with a metal bar barricading it from the inside.

The bed is queen sized, so that’s a good sign at least; it’s not a pack bedroom.

I know some bondgroups have individual rooms and their center rotates between them, so it isn't a surefire stamp of approval, but it’s promising.

The only picture in the room is sitting on top of a matching, dark wooden dresser, and it’s of him and a child-sized Arson.

A bookshelf loaded with a wide variety of genres, but I’m not surprised to see several having to do with plants, alchemy, and rare creatures.