Mated for Keeps Boxed Set: a BBW Werewolf Shifter Romance (The Lost River Pack) (19 page)

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, shaggy brown wolf tore through the study door. Wood splintered as the thick, muscled weight of the Yellow Canyon alpha took a part of the frame with him.

Jackson was already mid-shift as he sprung to intercept the wild alpha, tearing him out of the air before he cleared the study.

Her heart pounded in her chest, in her throat. Fear glued her feet to the floor, but fear for Jackson glued her eyes to the tangle of fur and fang and tearing limbs rolling across the rug. It shredded like so much paper beneath the claws both wielded.

They collided like bulls, a heavy impact of muscle that sent Jackson’s gray body flying back over the couch, disintegrating the coffee table in his wake. The wolf yelped in high, strangled surprise and fury as Victor’s shaggy head turned to her.

Her stomach pitched. But it wasn’t all ice and terror.

Something bloomed under her fear, something warmed the base of her senses. The fringes of her awareness.

Under her skin, deep in her flesh, her wolf began to growl.

Victor wasted no time. He tore across the study, tearing deep furrows into the wood, and leapt with teeth bared.

Too late, Natalie realized his intent. Seize her, by throat or by her chest, and force them both through the glass window behind her. Whatever the wounds he inflicted, she’d heal.

And she’d be in no condition to fight.

But the thing welling up inside her, the hunger that bloomed with sudden, vicious claws, batted away her frozen fear. She moved because the wolf inside her moved, twisted because the beast she carried howled.

The sound spilled out from her chest, welled in her mouth and erupted in a scream that almost masked the sound of her fist as it drove into the springing alpha’s throat. Fur splayed, gristle popped and cartilage bent as the heavy werewolf’s momentum drove him so far against Natalie’s fist that his own howl strangled.

Victor hit the floor, writhing in pain—but it wouldn’t last. Surprise and pain were easily overcome, and she hadn’t done more than give him pause.

Pain blossomed through Natalie’s arm. Her own surprise warred with the savagery of her own wolf, the ripple of her own skin as she snarled.

But she was still human enough, still Natalie enough, to scramble back from the snapping jaws inches from her legs.

“Jackson!” she screamed.

He was already moving.

He leapt from behind the fallen couch, pounced upon Victor just as the alpha shook himself back to his paws. Teeth gleamed in the sunlight, blood sprayed like rubies as fangs sank deep and tore a chunk of flesh from Jackson’s shoulder.

Natalie clutched at the window sill behind her, fingers so white the wood groaned beneath her grip. Her throat was dry. Her heart pounded.

Her wolf threw back its head inside her mind and howled in vicious delight.

This.
This is what she wanted. Natalie stared as Jackson’s muscles clenched, as back legs sank and went taut. Growls and snarls and yelps filled the study, the splintering of wood, the viscerally awful sound of flesh tearing, of blood splattering.

This was what it was to be claimed. To be fought for.

To be
earned
.

Jackson barreled into Victor, the meaty sound of muscle against muscle straining. Victor snapped his head around, inches from Jackson’s muzzle, and his back paws pulled up and tore at Jackson’s belly.

Blood flew.

Jackson snarled, a savage challenge. He leapt away from the alpha’s snapping jaws, nails scraping over the scarred wood floor as he positioned himself between Natalie and the enemy.

His sides heaved, breath panting as blood dripped to the floor.

Natalie’s hands clapped over her mouth, sealing the desperate cry before it drew Jackson’s attention away from the real threat.

Saliva dripped from Victor’s jaws. Foam flecked at his lips as his eyes, yellow and alien and simmering with fury, pinned on her.

The sound of voices echoed from the front yard. The wind wailed through the broken window, carrying with the fragrance of the mixed packs as it whistled down the hall and curled into the study.

Reinforcements.

But Jackson didn’t wait. As Natalie screamed for Nico, for Alek and Ben and Damien, both wolves dug their claws into the floor and launched themselves at each other. The sound they made was like thunder in Natalie’s senses. Blood splattered the floor as the first boots pounded down the hall.

Natalie’s scream turned high and wild as Victor flipped Jackson over onto his back, teeth flashing inches from his throat—but as Nico tore through the door, pale wolf eyes wild—Jackson got his hind feet under Victor’s belly. Launched the older wolf up with a rabbit kick that sent the alpha twisting in mid-air.

Before Nico could intervene, before Alek and Damien could even get around their alpha, Jackson threw himself on Victor. Rode him all the way down to the floor, slammed his body into the bookshelf behind them so hard that books thudded to the floor around them.

But Victor’s fangs found flesh. A red stain dotted the bookshelf, painted the ground. Filled the room with the tang of copper.

Everything went still.

Natalie reeled. A hole opened inside her heart that froze even her wolf in place, empty and yawning and aching. Pain blossomed inside her stomach, stole the strength from her legs. She folded, buried her head in her arms as the smell of Jackson’s blood invaded her nose. Her heart.

Her deepest fears.

She didn’t realize the high, keening wail searing through the library sunshine belonged to her until rough, familiar hands dipped past her shoulders. Caught her jaw and pulled her head up with hard, unyielding force. “Stop.
Look
.” Ben’s voice. Dark. Deep.

Commanding.

Natalie fought him, but a second set of hands caught her wrists, forced her arms down even as Ben pulled her to her feet.

Damien’s grip bit. “You need to see,” he insisted.

She couldn’t. She didn’t want to. Her eyes, wide and aching, burned with tears she didn’t dare shed.

Across the room, Alek flanked Nico. His pale eyes touched on her face. His mouth eased into a softened line. Pity?

Sympathy?

Oh, God.

“Look, Natalie,” Nico said softly.

“Jesus Christ.” Cameron’s voice was sharp in the door behind Nico and Alek. Of everything else, it was his gasp, his strangled sound of mingled disgust and fury, that got through to her.

With Ben’s palms warm at her cheeks and Damien’s fingers interlacing with hers, with the solid weight of both on either side, Natalie took a shaking breath.

And looked.

What she saw took the muzzle off her wolf so fast, nobody in the room had time to cope. Jackson’s jaws were clamped around Victor’s throat, pinning the big wolf to the floor with an intensity that belied the blood matting Jackson’s fur.

The smell of it, the wet heat of blood and sweat and musk, tangled in her senses, flooded her body.

It smelled of challenges won. Of victory.

Of raw masculine strength.

Ben hissed, letting her go so suddenly that it was like her skin burned him. Damien’s eyes snapped wide, and across the room, Alek barked sharply, “Dema!”

The younger twin let her go.

Just in time.

Natalie saw nothing but Jackson.

Nico reached over and caught Cameron by the collar. He jerked the wolf close enough that they were nose to nose, aggression to aggression. “I have every right to murder him right here,” he snarled.

Cameron very slowly lifted his hands to the side. Behind him, Nicholas did the same. “If you do, we’ll swear it was in the right.”

Natalie crossed the study on steady feet. Her heart slammed a rhythm echoed in her body. Heat flooded her. Infected her. Stripped everything away from her but one, singular goal—
mate.

Jackson’s ears twitched. With a last, savage shake on the flesh trapped between his jaws, he let Victor go. Clambered fully to his feet, limping faintly as he turned to face her.

Blood stained his muzzle. And then, as he shifted back to skin and muscle and man, blood slicked his rock hard abs. His powerful thighs.

Ragged furrows already knitted, but Natalie didn’t care. Didn’t wait.

These scars, these bloody wounds, were a mark of his effort for her. To save her, to protect her.

She licked her lips as her skin all but sizzled from wanting. “Now,” she said, a ragged urge. “Jackson.
Now.
”

The color of his eyes darkened, the green of a forest caught in a lightning storm. Energy crackled between them, skittered over her skin. She was deeply aware of the other men int he room, of their scents and warmth—of the energy that filled them, the power that made them what they were—but none shone to her as strongly as the one that fought so hard.

Jackson.

His body stirred. His cock hardened as if her gaze was a hand that stroked over him, and then he didn’t wait, either. With two powerful strides, he reached her, sank rough hands into her sweater and tore it off her body.

It exposed her to the eyes of the wolves who watched, and the scent of mingled arousal joined that of blood and musk, but it only made it better.

Made it more right.

“Jesus fuck,” Cameron whispered. “A mating.”

“A real mating,” Nicholas echoed, his voice ragged with awe.

Let them watch. Let her new pack and the old watch as she gave herself completely to Jackson King, werewolf of the Lost River Valley.

Let them taste it on the air as she stepped out of the shredded remains of the jeans he tore off her and climbed over his body with savage, sweet hunger. “Take me,” she whispered.

“Right here,” he promised. His voice trembled. His muscles firmed as he wrapped one arm under her backside and lifted her bodily into his arms with inhuman ease. Her thighs wrapped around his waist, opening herself for the cock he dragged across her flesh. Sparklers lit up inside her skin.

But this wasn’t the time for foreplay. She didn’t want to wait, didn’t want anything but his cock inside her sex, his teeth at her throat. His hands on her skin.

With a tilt of her hips, she dug her heels into the firm muscles of his ass and impaled herself on his erection. Her flesh stretched, slick around him. Her fingernails bit into his shoulders as cords in his throat went taut.

His breath hissed out on a groan, muffled as she took his mouth in a kiss that left no room between them. He grasped her hips, strained to meet the fervor of her tongue, fought against the limit of their own flesh as though he’d taste her from the inside out. Her lips. Her breath. The wetness between her legs.

Her muscles clamped on his cock as he lifted her, only to slam her back down against him. She threw back her head, tearing her mouth away, as her voice broke on a cry of such pleasure that even Cameron stared at her with wonder.

She could feel his gaze on her. On the way sweat gleamed on her skin. The way the blood staining Jackson’s flesh rubbed off on her.

And it was perfect.

Jackson sank to his knees, guided her down on him and drove his hips upward to match the frenzied claim of her body. Again and again, his cock stretched her, filled her. Slid against the walls of her body until her muscles shuddered, until she couldn’t breathe, until her nails raked down his back and Jackson snarled in mingled pleasure and pain.

And as sweat glued them together, as her wolf rolled and writhed inside her skin, Jackson caught her hair in one tight fist, yanked her head to the side and closed his teeth over the muscle that connected her neck to her shoulder.

Pain seared into pleasure so tightly that she couldn’t differentiate. Didn’t care. As if he reached into her very heart and wrapped his large, callused hand around it, she was lost.

Her climax burst, rolled over her on a wave of primal certainty. She screamed as he drove his cock so high that her knees lifted off the floor, sobbing as his teeth bruised the sensitized nerves under her skin.

And as his hips jerked, as he held her tight against the heat of his body, he growled things in her ear she couldn’t hear—but didn’t need to.

She knew. With every part of her heart and soul, every instinct, she knew. It had to be Jackson. It
always
had to be Jackson.

Her fingers clamped in his hair. With every part of her still shuddering, she sank into his arms. Collapsed, more like. The strength left her, bled out of her body so completely that not even the pressures of the Yellow Canyon wolves could stir her to care. She folded, never doubting for a second that Jackson would catch her.

He did. His arms, strong and muscled and gleaming with sweat, wrapped around her, guided her against him. Her head came down on his shoulder, and he placed a warm, possessive hand at the back of her neck. “Mine,” he growled softly.

Her vision went double.

The last thing she remembered was Nico’s quiet tenor. “She’s Lost River, now.”

Yes
. That felt right.

H
ours later
, Jackson made his way down the hall, following scent and sound to the kitchen. It was the heart of the cabin, Nico’s favorite place to hold meetings.

His body thrummed in weary, satiated bliss—a feeling he’d never in his life thought to feel. It was…nice. Sweet.

Perfect.

He stretched as he stepped inside the kitchen, smiling lazily at Ben and Nico in greeting.

It faded when Cameron straightened from his lean against the counter, a wary tension slipping in under the other wolf’s good-natured mask. He wasn’t fooling anyone. “Please don’t throat me,” he said, a tease that had too much truth in it to laugh at.

The simmering contentment in Jackson’s skin stretched to predatory awareness. A sharper edge than he was used to. His nostrils flared, gaze flicking to his alpha. “What is he doing here?”

Nico held up a conciliatory hand. “The rest of the Yellow Canyon Pack left. They took Victor with him.”

“Don’t worry,” Cameron added. “I’m not here to mess anything up.” He laced his hands loosely behind his back, and for all his shoulders squared, even Jackson realized he was doing his level best not to offer any sort of challenge.

It was just respectful enough that he forced down the restless urge welling inside him. The instinct that said Cameron was a threat—to the pack, and to Natalie.

Ben poured a cup of coffee, looking at none of them with his usual deep waters disinterest.

Jackson knew better. One wrong twitch, and Cameron would never know what two ton boulder came out of nowhere to hit him.

“The rest of the pack offer apologies and renumeration,” Cameron continued, his deep voice matter-of-fact.

“So they didn’t know?”

Nico’s wolf eyes flicked to Cameron, who had the grace to look sheepish. “We knew,” he confessed, lowering his gaze when Jackson’s teeth bared. “But our alpha ordered it. We know full well what kind of stain we carry.”

It wasn’t exactly the blood Jackson wanted to see on the floor, but even that was new enough that he throttled it back. Mating in one part eased him, and in the other, sharpened all his aggressive instincts.

Protect Natalie.
Every cell demanded it.

His wolf bristled.

Nico reached across the counter to put a hand on Cameron’s lanky shoulder. His gaze, however, pinned on Jackson.

The message was clear. Cameron was under his alpha’s protection.

“Victor won’t stay alpha for long,” Cameron volunteered. An edge cut his smile. “This was the last straw. There’s going to be a line of pissed off werewolves looking to unseat him after all this bullshit. We won’t have a coward for leader.”

Jackson stared at him. “You first in line?”

“First,” Cameron replied, his dark eyes finally meeting Jackson’s. “And last.”

“Good.”

Ben pushed the cup of coffee into Jackson’s hands. “Whatever else, it provided you the opportunity to mate.”

Not exactly the way he’d wanted it, but Jackson couldn’t complain about the end result. He frowned into the dark brew, then glanced at Nico. “I don’t get what happened.”

The alpha shrugged lightly. “My guess is that while you were on her radar, her wolf needed to know you’d shed blood for her.”

“Sexy,” Cameron muttered.

Ben put a large hand on Jackson’s shoulder. Just in time. The sudden urge to tear over that counter and make the wolf eat it welled up like a wild demand.

Jackson’s fists clenched. Then, with a deep breath, he loosened them.

“Cameron.” Ben sighed. “Please don’t provoke the newly mated male.”

Nico ignored them both. “Sex is one thing,” he added, “but her wolf is too strong to settle for just a good lay.”

Jackson still remembered the taste of blood on his tongue. The violence pounding in his veins.

Still remembered the way she’d clocked that bastard in the throat, and it filled him with mingled pride and lingering fear.

She was nobody’s prize. Nobody’s doll.

His
mate.

Ben let him go, turning to glance at the door. “She’s up,” he said. Two words, and they filled Jackson with such fierce pride. Pride of victory, of claim.

Of love.

As one, all four men turned to watch Natalie step inside. Even without the newfound bond forged between them, Jackson couldn’t bear how adorably rumpled she looked. He wanted to tuck her aside, hide her from the eyes of the men who watched her so openly.

A different kind of possessive. But one, he thought as she ran a hand through her tousled waves and blinked sleepily at all of them, he could deal with.

“Morning, sunshine.” Nico’s smile curved in obvious affection.

She muffled a yawn, but managed a murmured, “Morning.” She passed Ben, reached out to touch him gently on the arm.

The serious wolf’s mouth eased into something that almost passed for a smile.

Cameron watched her, as well, and as Jackson shot him a hard look, he couldn’t help but notice the way the other wolf’s expression tinged faintly regretful.

Too bad.
She was Lost River now. She was Jackson’s.

A fact she sealed as she smiled softly at Nico, but stepped completely into Jackson’s embrace. He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her soft, warm body into his own and glared daggers at Cameron over her head.

Bring it.

The other wolf raised his hands in surrender. “Natalie, I just wanted—”

A growl bottled in Jackson’s throat. He hadn’t even realized he’d intended it until Natalie’s elbow dug into his side and he swallowed it back.

“Sorry,” he managed.

Nico’s amusement filled his eyes. “You’ll get used to it.”

“We’re all going to have to get used to it,” Ben added dryly.

Natalie tipped her face up to Jackson’s, her beautiful eyes filled with so much warmth. So much love. She hadn’t even said it yet, but he knew. He could feel it.

The bond between them throbbed like a second heartbeat. So alive.

“It’s okay,” she said softly. “Really.”

“Really,” Cameron added, with the tone of one who knew very well he courted death and did it anyway.

The look Jackson shot him blazed.

He grinned, then took a smart step back. “Natalie, the Yellow Canyon Pack formally extends its apologies. We owe the Lost River Pack a favor. Call on us anytime.”

She glanced at Nico, who nodded.

She did, too. “Thanks, Cam. And, um…”

The edge eased from his smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

Jackson was just human enough to understand the subtext. And just freshly mated enough not to care. He curved one long hand around Natalie’s throat, his palm gentle but his lips peeled back from his teeth.

Nico didn’t have to step in this time. Cameron knew the game, even if he enjoyed testing the rules. He looked away, rounding his shoulders, and took another step farther back.

Natalie sighed. “Men.”

“Wolves,” Ben rumbled.

Jackson didn’t care. He tightened his grip around her waist, nestling her securely against him.

She turned in his arm, reached up and caught his face in both her palms. Her eyes brimmed with joy. Her body with his seed. Maybe she would carry his children.

Maybe, he thought as his body stirred against her, she’d let him fuck her again.

Let him deep inside her, to stroke all her hot and secret spots until her voice broke on his name.

Mated.
Jackson could get used to this.

Natalie lifted up on tiptoes to press her lips to his. “Relax,” she said against his mouth. She still tasted like him. Still smelled like his sweat and his body. “I’m yours. I love you.”

Watchers be damned. Jackson caught her chin in his fingers and tipped her face to seize her mouth, sweep his tongue between her lips and claim her breath, her words. He kissed her deeply, thoroughly, tasted her lips, her tongue, until she was pliant against him and gasping.

That was it. No fucking way was he interested in playing nice. Jackson bent and hauled her up into his arms, throwing her over his shoulder like he was some kind of gorilla. She squealed in surprise, braced her hands against his ass and tried to wriggle down, but he wasn’t letting go for anything.

He glared at Cameron with obvious, prickly challenge.

The wolf laughed outright.

“Jackson, wait—” Natalie began, only to shriek as he slapped the soft curve of her ass with one wide hand.

“No,” he said succinctly, and hauled her back out of the kitchen.

“Yeah.” Ben’s chuckle was graveled, deep and throaty. “She’s one of us.”

Nico’s voice barely managed this side of serious. “Definitely.”

Natalie’s fingers dug into his waistband. Found his naked skin. “Put me down, or I swear—”

He shuddered. “I’ll put you down in the bedroom,” he said raggedly. “And then I’m going to fuck you.”

“Again?” she gasped.

“Again,” he repeated. A dark, hungry growl. “Forever. You’re one of us.” And then, because he couldn’t help himself, he added fiercely, “You’re
mine
.”

He eased her off his shoulder as he slammed the bedroom door behind them. Let her body slide down his chest. Curve to muscle, softness to his harder planes.

Her breath caught. Her nipples beaded under her shirt—
his
shirt. He’d give her more of them. He loved the way the soft cotton draped her breasts, her hips.

He’d give her whatever she wanted. Whenever she wanted it.

Her eyes sparkled. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I’m yours. Forever.”

Jackson’s fingers tunneled into her silken hair. God, he loved her. The first female in the Lost River. The bond that made them pack.

She was everything Jackson could have hoped for, and so much more. Against all odds, she loved him.

“I will never,” he promised roughly, “let you go.”

She ran her tongue over his bottom lip. “Good. Now make love to me, Jackson King. I want to learn everything there is to know about being mated.”

His palms cradled the soft curve of her breasts. His smile widened, his heart pounding warm and heavy in his chest. It echoed her own. Linked forever. “I know,” he said huskily, “just where to start.”