Slow Shift by Nazarea Andrews (best ereader for pdf .TXT) 📗

me it was for me?” Tyler says, tone incredulous.

“Why the hell else would I bite him?” Chelsea asks grumpily.

Tyler stares at her, wide-eyed, his heart pounding an uneven rhythm.

“Chelsea, that's—that isn't why you Bite someone!”

She huffs. “But he's a werewolf now. He can be Pack and you can bring him back with us to New York.”

“He was always Pack,” Tyler snarls, “And I'm not going anywhere.”

~*~

“You can’t,” Lucas snaps.

Chase shivers in his grasp. “Lucas, they’re here.”

“And my darling sister still wants you dead.”

“She doesn’t!” Chase shouts. “It was never about killing me—it’s about Tyler, and they’ll kill him, so let me go.”

Lucas looks at Aurora, at the fear in her eyes. “Is it him? Is the scream for him?” he demands roughly, and Chase whines, low and frantic.

“I don’t know,” she whispers.

Lucas snarls. “Shift,” he orders, and Chase lets the magic free. The fox, pacing and anxious in that place where his magic rests, bursts to the surface. Lucas howls and they run.

~*~

It’s strange to run like this, but familiar, like something he’s done a thousand times, in a thousand dreams. Lucas bounds along beside him, and he has a fleeting thought that he wishes Tyler were here, that he was running for the sheer joy of it instead of the panic and fear beating a rhythm in his blood.

Lucas leads and Chase lets him, trusting his superior senses to get them to Tyler. He can feel the Cahils, the malevolence of them, but his magic is quiet, the Standing Stones still and waiting as he runs a familiar path that Chase has never walked, not in the waking world, until they burst into a clearing and the old, rotting ruins of the long abandoned Reid house loom above them.

~*~

“I never thought you’d stay,” Chelsea says. She’s standing now, pacing, and Tyler watches her. There’s something off about her scent, something that makes him want to twitch and run, makes him want to snarl and fight.

“You weren’t supposed to stay,” she says petulantly. She twists to glare at him, eyes are burning red and furious. “I needed you and you left me.”

“You hated me,” Tyler says, “After I told you about Mia, you couldn’t stand the sight of me. You ran off and found the first Pack you could that would take you in, and when I realized you didn’t want me... Yeah, I left. We had Pack, family, here, undefended and alone, and I couldn’t stay there with you when you hated me.”

“But you were supposed to come back. You were supposed to realize that you were wrong, that you needed me, but you didn’t. You found that stupid boy and you got distracted by how much he needed you. You forgot about me.” She growls, a low, subsonic noise that makes him flinch and almost bare his throat. “I want him dead for that.”

“Then why didn’t you kill him?”

She stares at Tyler for a long moment, then snaps, “I should have. But you—it would’ve upset you. And Tripp said not to. He wanted the whole Pack.”

Tyler stares at her, not quite comprehending that, and then he hears them—footsteps overhead and a high, barking scream.

“Shit. Chelsea, what did you do?”

~*~

Lucas sits on the steps of the old house and tries to contain how much the damn place bothers him.

“We should burn this place to the ground, let it go like the rest of our Pack went,” he mumbles.

Chase, wearing a pair of jeans and t-shirt that hangs off one shoulder, bumps him companionably on the shoulder. His magic is crackling under his skin again and he files that little tidbit away for future reference. “Can you hear Tyler?”

“He’s in the tunnels,” Lucas murmurs.

A low howl fills the air, joined by four others. Lucas huffs as he stands. Chase doesn’t move, waiting. He’s completely content to let Lucas take the lead on this—he has more experience with other Packs, and the longer the Cahils underestimate him, the better.

They step into the clearing in front of the house with no fanfare, just quietly emerging. Tripp looks odd here, like a fish out of water, but still sleek and predatory, still dangerous.

“Lucas. Where is my darling fiancee?”

“I don’t keep up with her these days. Tell me, Tripp—did you know she was going feral?”

Tripp shrugs, a loose roll of his shoulders. “The kind of loss she sustained when her Pack died, when what was left of it left her? Going feral was unavoidable.”

“Yet you’re engaged to her. Why did you not bind her to your own Pack?”

Tripp smiles, spreads his hands helplessly. “I couldn’t very well bond a foreign alpha to my Pack, Lucas. It would disrupt the whole Pack.”

Chase whistles and shakes his head. “You drove her to this. Let me guess—you marry her before she goes completely feral, and when she does, when she has to be put down, you get the Reid territory and Pack. Is that about right?”

Cahil cocks his head, that superior little smirk confirming everything.

“Bet it’s really fucking annoying that the territory isn’t just lying around waiting to be snatched up, that the Pack doesn’t need you.”

“You have no idea what a Pack needs,” Tripp says, his voice dripping disdain, “Werewolves can’t function without a Pack, without an alpha.”

“But you aren’t, are you, Tripp? You’re only an heir. Was that part of the plan? Take her power when you kill her? Become an alpha before your time?”

Tripp doesn’t answer, but one of his wolves fidgets uncomfortably behind him.

Chase nods. “Well, it’s a good plan. Really. Your problem was picking us. This land has a Pack, and alpha or not, it’s never going to recognize you.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tripp snaps.

Chase sighs.

“You should go,” Lucas says, a trace of amusement in his voice.

Tripp snarls, and one of the werewolves breaks ranks, lunging at Lucas. Chase looks up and the power living inside him flares, his tattoos warming but not quite shining. He flicks a glance at Lucas, and the ‘wolf lunging for his throat