STORY EXCERPT

Max was being hunted. He was pretty sure it wasn’t one of his pack mates. Max had told Ryder bluntly if Ryder tried to play hide and seek with him again that he’d rip Ryder’s head off. Max paused and cocked his ears. He could still hear his pursuer’s footsteps behind him. His stalker stopped as well. The rustle of bushes told Max that his stalker was hiding.

Not a hunter then. Whoever was following him wasn’t doing that good of a job. Max trotted forward, went deeper into the woods. He ran, intending to tire out his pursuer. Max stopped at the edge of a small stream and lowered his muzzle to the water. He lapped at it.

A twig broke somewhere nearby. Max ignored the other shifter. He could smell him now. Wet fur. Pine. Vanilla. Hmm. Interesting mix of flavors. Wolf, but not any of his pack mates. For one, they didn’t smell this good or delicious.

Yummy wasn’t a word Max would normally associate with a stranger. Max lifted his muzzle to finally see his shy stalker appear from his hiding place. The werewolf was slender, sleek, and had brown fur with reddish tips. Pretty animal. Submissive, Max noted, not a dominant werewolf. There was only one other werewolf pack living on Ashfall Mountain. The Grim Bite Pack minded their own business, and Max’s pack did the same. They carried a distinctive scent, and this wolf had the same smell.

What did this Grim Bite wolf want with him?

The werewolf had his tongue out, eyeing Max, and the stream. He must be thirsty, but Max wouldn’t let him near. This was for the submissive wolf’s own safety. Max couldn’t even be around his pack mates at this stage. He wasn’t safe around anyone anymore.

Max let out a warning growl. The werewolf froze, fear in his brown eyes.

Brown? Most shifters changed eye color when they shifted. This one seemed different. If this submissive werewolf was wise, he’d walk away. Running was preferable because any moment now the monster inside Max would decide he was prey.

The submissive werewolf padded towards him. Max roared, flashing the other werewolf his sharp row of teeth.

His stalker made another wrong move. He shifted. Stupid. Being in wolf form might make escape feasible, but in human skin? Max could easily maul him down in a few steps. What was even worse? His stalker’s human form was attractive, tall, and lean. The submissive werewolf had short, wavy auburn hair the same color as his fur and the most expressive pair of dark brown eyes.

“Hi, I’m Finn. Um. I’ve been looking for you.” Finn paused.

Max was still stunned into silence. How could Finn be so foolish? This was Ashfall Mountain. A place for broken shifters to die. Finn was a Grim Bite. Max and his pack had clashed with their rival pack a few times.

What was Finn trying to do? Make friends or something?

“You’re the one they call the Executioner, right?” Finn pressed.

Max didn’t think. He went for Finn’s throat, barely able to hold his wolf back. Max knocked Finn into the ground, stood on top of him. He pressed his claws delicately into fragile human skin. It was like paper. It would tear easy. Max would know. He was a killer, and yet, he didn’t entertain those violent thoughts. He kept staring at Finn’s throat though, the sensitive line of skin between shoulder and neck. Max did want to put his teeth into that spot. Badly.

“I’m sorry,” Finn blurted, raising his hands as if Max had a gun. “I know you’re retired, but I need a favor. I need your help.”

His help? This was new. As if Max would help out a complete stranger he just met. What a weirdo.

“Please.”

That one word certainly got Max’s attention. He waited. Since he wasn’t feeling particularly murderous or violent towards Finn, he’d listen to Finn’s request. Didn’t mean Max would promise him anything.

“Please end me. I hate what I am. I hate being a werewolf,” Finn whispered.

Max didn’t know what to think. His wolf no longer saw Finn as a threat. Max jumped off him. He needed some space to think. Finn’s scent was too distracting, and so was that tempting body. What Finn was asking him was too much. Couldn’t Finn see Max had retired from the hunting game, because he was becoming a Feral himself?

“Max, when I saw you last week hunting the Black Claws panthers with Caden and the others, I recognized you. I knew you’re the answer to my prayers.”

Max walked away, more annoyed than pissed. How could Finn have figured him out, when the rest of his pack mates didn’t even know much about him? Max also preferred it that way. Every shifter who chose to make this unforgiving mountain their home came with secrets and plenty of baggage.

“Max? Don’t ignore me.”

Jesus. What was wrong with this submissive werewolf? Finn ran up to him, started walking beside him. What the hell? Max should leave Finn, but running wasn’t his style. Finn should be the one bolting from him, but this little wolf didn’t seem to have an ounce of common sense. Usually, shifters who felt his menacing aura either got out of his way or left in the opposite direction.

Finn’s reaction was sort of comforting. Strange.

ADULT EXCERPT

Max lowered his furry head to lick at Finn’s face. He got off Finn. Enough playing around. Max padded for the woods. Finn seemed to sense the change in mood, because Finn trotted next to him. The submissive werewolf kept rubbing his head against his side, an affectionate gesture. Max liked it. Most shifters were afraid to get within close proximity of him, but Finn was the exact opposite.

Finn’s presence entered him, held back the violent tendencies of his wolf. Even back in the theater Max didn’t think he’d be able to hold onto his sanity, his humanity, if it weren’t for Finn sitting next to him. Max led Finn past a small lake and deeper into Wild Manes territory. Tonight, Dom and Teddy were on patrol, but Max was an expert at avoiding his pack mates. He’d perfected the art of remaining invisible years ago, when he hunted Ferals for a living.

Max guided Finn past a thick cluster of tall ash trees. Ten minutes later, they were in his backyard. Max led Finn to the back door. They emerged in his kitchen. Max shed fur and returned to human form. Finn did the same. Once human, Finn curiously looked around his kitchen.

It struck Max they hadn’t had dinner yet, although Finn never complained once. His dick stirred at the sight of Finn completely naked, sweaty, and his hair windswept. Max decided he’d sate his other hunger first.

“Nice digs,” Finn commented, peering out the kitchen window. The cabin to the right of Max was occupied by his other pack mate, Ryder, and his mate, Aiden. Right now, the lights were off, and Max knew Ryder slept like the dead. He wasn’t worried about being interrupted. “So, everyone has a cabin? Wow.”

“It’s not the same for you?”

“Well, we converted this big old lodge house into a pack house. Everyone stays under the same roof. It gets crowded at times,” Finn said. His submissive wolf met his gaze, and fuck, that only made his cock hard. His dick felt like a steel pipe between his legs. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Me either. Come here.”

Finn obeyed.

Once the submissive werewolf was within reach, Max took his mouth again. He couldn’t get enough of Finn, of the sweet taste of him. Max drank him right up. He ran his hands possessively down Finn’s slender body. Perfect and unmarred, unlike his own, which was rough and scarred up by contrast. He knew they were like night and day, that Finn deserved better than a man like him. It was too late for Finn now. The moment Max laid eyes on his prize Finn was doomed.

Finn kissed him back, eagerly and hungrily. Max backed Finn out of the kitchen and into the living room. Shit. At this rate, Max doubted they’d make it to the bedroom. Hard wood touched their bare and dirty feet. Leaves and soil still clung to their bodies, but Finn didn’t look discomforted. Neither was Max. He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to have Finn now.

“I need,” Finn whispered, wrapping his arms around Max’s neck. Their chests bumped. He could feel Finn’s thickening dick rubbing against his own.

“What?” Max asked, trailing his fingers down Finn’s chest, his belly. He curled his fingers around Finn’s shaft and began to work him.

“You.” Finn moaned as Max moved his hand up and down his shaft faster, until a cry slipped from Finn’s lips. Finn spilled his jizz all over his waiting fingers. Max wanted to preserve this image in his head forever—Finn’s languid expression, his lips slightly parted, and his pupils blown. He lifted his wet hand to Finn’s mouth.

“Clean your need off my fingers,” he ordered. Hell, but watching Finn lick at his digits only made his dick full. It didn’t help the submissive werewolf looked down, right at his erection, and licked his lips.

“You want this in you?” Max asked.

“Oh yes.”

“Get on all fours.” Max made a quick trip to his bedroom to retrieve his bottle of lube. He returned to find Finn waiting for him, chest to the floor and ass in the air. Perfect. His mate looked drop-dead gorgeous and all his for the taking.

His mate.

That single and important word resonated deep in his chest. Would that revelation scare Finn off? Max positioned himself between Finn’s legs. He uncapped the lube, applied it on his fingers, then worked plenty inside Finn’s pink hole. He growled softly, already anticipating how Finn’s ass would feel around his shaft.

“Max,” Finn uttered. “Please.”

Max sped up. He slid one slicked finger inside Finn, then added more. Max made sure Finn was ready. He wasn’t exactly small. Hurting Finn was the last thing he wanted. He guided his cock into Finn’s asshole. Max gripped Finn’s ass and penetrated him. Finn groaned as he made his way slowly inside his depths. The submissive werewolf was so tight, so tight for him. He bet no one had ever tapped this sweet ass before. The thought sat well with Max, because no one else would be able to claim Finn in such an intimate way but him alone.