Cliff barreled towards them, his face flushed with fury. He didn’t even bother shifting; he kicked the snarling wolf in the ribcage, sending it flying.
“Change!”he bellowed at the crowd of snapping, growling wolves, and sent out a wave of power. He was a Dominus going up against other wolves with the Dominus gene, but they hadn’t been expecting it, and his bloodline was especially powerful. Half a dozen of them changed back, shouting with pain. Being forced to change was excruciating.
The remaining wolves backed away from each other, panting and slavering. Many were bleeding and limping, but they’d all be healed by tomorrow. Werewolves healed fast; Alphas healed faster.
“Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” Cliff demanded of Taylor. She knew if she answered in the affirmative, the wolf was as good as dead.
She smiled reassuringly. “He didn’t lay a paw on me. Or a fang. I am totally fine.”
One by one, the wolves changed back into their human forms, naked now. A bunch of the groupies hurried over, giggling and flirting. Testosterone was an aphrodisiac for them.
“Ooh, you were so ferocious!” a blonde cooed to one of the growling Alphas.
He looped his arm around her waist. “I’ll show you how ferocious I can be.” He grinned. “What’s your name again?”
Two hours later, Grant sat at the lodge’s bar. His side itched as the wounds sealed themselves back up. He was working on his thirtieth double shot of tequila.
“Fucking shifter metabolishm,” he grumbled. “Can’t get shmashed when I wanna get shmashed. Keep ’em coming,” he added to Yasmine, the bartender. She’d been working the front desk earlier, but at night they had her behind the bar. The men liked the eye-candy.
“I know what might distract you,” she cooed. “I heard you broke up with that nasty blonde Mandy. I can take your mind off your troubles.”
“She’sh not nashty. She’sh my friend.” He knocked back another triple shot of tequila. “My only friend.”
“I could be your friend.” She reached out to take the empty glass, and let her fingers trail over his hand.
He jerked his hand away as if her fingers were red hot. “Could be, but you aren’t.”
Her smile twitched but stayed in place. “You seem tense. I give an amazing massage.”
He stared moodily off into space, barely hearing her. “That’sh nishe. Good for your boyfriend.”
“Oh, I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m very, very single.” She leaned over the counter. “And you’re single.”
He finally met her eager gaze. “Yeah. I like it that way. Give me a triple shot.”
Her smile faltered, but she quickly served him his drink, and he tossed it back in one gulp.
“After I give you your massage…who knows what might happen next?” She leaned so far over the bar, she was in danger of falling over. “If you got to know me, you’d really, really like me.” The woman’s voice was drilling into his head, and without looking at her, he got up and walked away.
Images of Jennifer flooded through his mind. Jennifer – shy and sweet and vulnerable.
Jennifer, the first woman he’d opened his heart up to.
Jennifer, who had proceeded to cut that heart out of his chest with a rusty knife.
Of course, his father hadn’t helped matters when he’d kidnapped Grant and held him captive for weeks to keep him away from her. There had been no way his son was going to mate with a human – and worse, a dirt-poor human with no family. They were the wealthy, internationally famous Bronsons. Grant would mate with a werewolf of equal wealth and prestige.
His father had also hacked into Jennifer’s Skype account and gloated as he forced Grant to watch videos of Jennifer with her real boyfriend, a rogue lone wolf named Boone Mulcaster. Apparently whenever Jennifer was with Boone, she suddenly became double-jointed.
When she hadn’t had her legs behind her ears, she and Boone had eagerly discussed how they were going to fleece Grant for everything he was worth. Fake being pregnant. Trick him into mating her. Demand half his assets, or she’d reveal that he was a werewolf. Yeah, Boone had told her all about werewolves. There was a kill on sight order out on Boone because of that, but so far the slippery bastard had eluded capture.
By the time Lloyd Bronson released his son, Grant had wanted nothing to do with Jennifer. He’d gone overseas to Europe for a year, drowning himself in booze and women until he’d been thoroughly sick of both.
Since he’d come back home, women had been constantly pestering him to mate with them. And there was the pressure for a wealthy Alpha to permanently settle down and start having cubs – which was not going to happen.
Not after he’d realized how little he could trust his own heart. To discourage the endless stream of women throwing themselves at him, he made sure he always had a female companion with him – women who were paid to hang out with him and keep the other women at bay.
It had worked for years, until Jennifer’s twin sister had showed up and blown his cover. Not only that, his physical and emotional reaction to her was batshit crazy.
