Southern Shifters: Bite Me (A Bad Boy Shifter Romance) (Kindle Worlds Novella) (2 page)

I take a couple steps closer.

"You must be Nolan."

Her voice is husky and alluring. I swallow hard, willing my dick to calm down.

Finally,
finally
, she looks at me. Her eyes are forest-green, setting off the gentle pink flush in her cheeks. Wisps of unruly dark-blonde hair fall around her face and shoulders, a silent rebellion against the messy braid resting on the back of her neck.

It's muggy as hell in here. I peel off my leather jacket, nodding silently in response to her not-question.

Her eyes dart across my arms, taking in the twisting, curling designs in ink. Ever so quickly, she licks her lips.

"Sit down," she says. "Have a drink."

"Love to," I reply. My voice is rough and ragged, and I realize I haven't really talked to anyone since I checked into the motel last night. I clear my throat, and try again. "Dunno if it's a good idea. We've still got a trip ahead of us."

"Not too far," she says. "One beer won't hurt."

Well, she's not wrong about that. The last thing I wanna do is leave Livvy's friend with the impression that I'm an irresponsible sonofabitch, but even I can manage not to crash my motorcycle after a single drink. Still...it feels suspicious. Like she's testing me.

"We can't leave for another two hours," she says, after a minute of silence. "Might as well take a load off."

Shit. I'm supposed to sit here for two hours, ignoring the scent of a female in heat,
and
resist the urge to drink the entire bar? My sanity's never gonna survive this.

"Two hours? I've been on the road all day." I hope I sound more irritated than horny.
 

"I realize that," she replies, evenly. Something in her tone makes the bartender perk up his head from the other end of the bar. "But there's nothing I can do, Nolan. I'm sorry."

Grumbling to myself, I take a seat. Very deliberately, I leave an empty stool between us. It's enough of a buffer to keep me from embarrassing myself.

Probably.

"What's your name?" I ask her, as the bartender pulls me a glass of something on tap without asking.
 

She hesitates for a second. "Delilah." It drips from her tongue like honey bourbon.

"Of course," I smirk, before I can stop myself.

Delilah arches a brow at me. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing," I reply, taking a gulp of my beer. "I dunno what I'm saying anymore. I've hardly been sleeping lately."

"How long have you been on the road?" She brushes a lock of hair away from her eyes, and I force myself not to stare.
 

"Three days."

Her brow furrows a little. "You made it from Seattle to here in three days? That's..." She shakes her head. "Almost impossible."

"Guess not." I grin.
 

I wish she'd stop glancing at my biceps. Normally I'd appreciate the attention, but I'm supposed to be marrying her friend tomorrow. I can't afford any distractions. Especially not one with soft, wide hips and bedroom eyes.

"So, did you grow up here?" It's supposed to be an innocent question, making conversation, just passing the time. But it sounds like a lot more than just casual interest. I take another swig of my beer, like it'll somehow cool off the simmering lust in my belly.

Delilah shakes her head. "I was raised by humans. Mostly. Only learned about my real heritage when I was a teenager and I had my first shift."

"Must've been scary."

She shrugs. "Yeah. Well, some girls find blood in their underwear, I turned into a giant cat...growing pains, am I right?"

I snort into my drink.

"Liv didn't tell me much about you," she says. "But I can already see you're not what I expected."

"Oh yeah?" I glance at her, sidelong. "How come she didn't meet me herself?"

Delilah just shrugs again. "She asked me for a favor, I did it. I assume she and Kane are still working on the arrangement."

"Still? It's been six months."

"Cougar politics, man." She smirks. "Clan Gunn sticks to their own. You're just lucky the enforcer is already mated to a hybrid, so he's not as much of a stick-in-the-mud as the rest of them."

"But we're both cougars. What's the issue?"

"You're not
from
here," Delilah replies. "Honestly, that's all I know. Liv never told me much. Just said there was a contract, and she was obligated to fulfill it."

"We both are," I clarify. "Not sure which one of us is happier about it."

"Well, it doesn't make sense to me."

"Cougar politics, man," I echo.

She shakes her head. "What do you know about politics?"

"Enough," I tell her. "I've lived around clans for long enough."

"But not
in
one," she counters. "You've always been kind of an outcast, haven't you?"

Something about the way she says the word -
outcast
. It sounds dark and forbidden, in the best possible way.

Why would Livvy send a friend in heat, alone, to escort her new mate into the Clan? It doesn't make sense...

I shake my head to clear the confusion. I've been awake for too long, nothing's going to make much sense until I can settle in for a good night's sleep.

My last night as a single man.

"I have trouble with authority," I admit. "And you're right. Politics just ain't my thing."

"Liv's either." Another beer appears in front of her, and she nods at the bartender. "Thanks, Dean."

"No problem," he says. "You?"

"Might as well." I glance at the clock. It's barely been half an hour. I've got more than enough time to sober up before we hit the road.

"Whatever it is about this contract, Liv seems convinced she has to bear it out," Delilah goes on. "So to speak."

"I think it's the wolves that are more responsible," I reply, with a smile. "I can explain the whole thing to you, if you want. But it's not the most riveting thing in the world."

"We've got nothing but time," she points out.

Yeah, and I can think of a more pleasant way to pass it.

I want to smack myself. Or at least dunk my head in a bucket of cold water. True, I've never met my mate - my bride - and true, we don't love each other. We don't even really like each other, as far as I can tell. But it's still not right. If I can't control my animal instincts' reaction to someone like Delilah, how will I stay a faithful mate?

One thing I will not do is screw around on Livvy. Even if she hates my guts and never wants to sleep in the same bed with me, I'm determined not to be a douchebag about it. And anyway, it'd be too dangerous. If word got out...

"I'm listening," says Delilah.

Right. The contract.

"Well." I take another gulp of my beer to avoid looking at her. "Back where I'm from, the Douglas Mountain clan, the shifters all intermingle. It's been that way for a dog's age. I don't know why, but I guess they wrote a treaty years and years ago. There's still a lot of arguments about everyone's concerns being equally represented and blah blah blah, but mostly, it keeps the peace. Problem is, the thing's been changed and added to and re-translated so many times, there's parts even the elders don't totally understand.

"I guess, years ago, a cougar enforcer from Deals Gap came to Douglas Mountain to broker a deal. He brought his daughter, she was eighteen, untouched, all that nonsense...well, there was a young cougar stud in the Douglas clan who took a shine to her. As far as anyone can tell, it was mutual. But he knocked her up, and 'spoiled her virtue,' according to Dear Old Dad.

"It nearly started a war. But the clans were able to keep the peace by signing an agreement stating that their great-great-great-great..." I make a vague gesture at my own chest. "...you know, whatever. Basically, I'm a trophy husband to keep one of the ancestors of Clan Gunn from murdering everyone at Douglas Mountain on sight. And because of all the alliances between the different species out there, if the cougars are wronged, then everybody's up in arms."

Delilah's eyes are wide. "That's crazy," she says.

"Sure is," I agree. "My grandparents got wind of the agreement when I was just a baby. Tried to hide me out with humans, but it went about as well as your exile did, sounds like."
 

"I don't get it." She shakes her head. "Can't everyone just agree this is stupid, and move on with their lives?"

"Now who doesn't understand clan politics?" I smirk at her. "Douglas Mountain is growing. Outcasts and hybrids from other clans flock over there, because it's supposed to be the place where everyone's welcome. Problem is, some people's definition of 'everyone' only includes who
they
want. It's like a tinderbox over there."

Delilah takes a deep breath, and I absolutely
do not
watch how her breasts rise and fall. "So basically, what you're saying is...if you don't marry Livvy, it'll be the inciting incident for World War III."

"Pretty much." I trace my thumb along the condensation on the side of the glass, willing time to pass quicker. I don't know how much longer I can do this. Her scent is almost overwhelming me now, every pheromone in her body literally begging me to strip her clothes off and...

Fuck's sake. Get a grip.

I can control myself. And judging by her body language, sitting there all prim and proper on the barstool while she rages with hormones inside, she's more than capable, too. But it's only a matter of time before I say something stupid, or give her the wrong look, and suddenly she's running back to Livvy, telling her all about what a scumbag her new mate is.

Delilah sighs. "Human life was so much simpler."

"Yeah, well." I glance at the clock again. "There's no place for us there."

"No place for us here, either," she points out.

"Yeah, but at least they understand why we occasionally turn into animals. That one's kind of hard to explain to the world-at-large."

She doesn't say anything. The clock ticks away, and the bartender's disappeared into the back room, leaving us alone here. I can still sense his presence, but he's not paying much attention to us.
 

"I heard..." Delilah hesitates, then lowers her voice further. "I heard there might be a cure..."

My grip on the glass tightens. Of all the shit I thought I'd deal with in Deals Gap, I never thought I'd hear talk of a
cure
.

Like there's something wrong with us. Like we're
sick
.

"The fuck did you say?" I mutter, mindful of catching the bartender's attention.
 

Delilah swallows, hard. "Nothing," she murmurs. "Just...nothing. It's stupid. Never mind."

I might not be much for clan politics, but there's one thing that gets my hackles up like no other. There's a reason why no respectful shifter clan will stand for talk of a "cure." Over the years there have been plenty of legends about it, some kind of medicine or potion or spell that would make us human.
 

It's only appealing if you think of yourself as half-human. That somehow, getting rid of the transformation would make you better. But I'm not half-human. I'm not half-
anything
.

"Delilah, I know you're Livvy's friend." I take a deep breath before continuing. The last thing I need right now is to lose my temper. I'm barely keeping myself under control as it is, with all the conflicting desires in my body. "So I'm not gonna say what I'd say to you if you were a stranger. But I don't wanna hear you say anything like that. And I'm guessing nobody else around here does, either."

She just sits there, fuming quietly. I think I was pretty gentle, all things considered. There are some clans where talking about a cure will land you hard time.

Finally, she speaks. "Livvy said you were full of yourself."

My nostrils flare. "She doesn't even know me."

"And whose fault is that?" She wheels around to face me, suddenly, and my heart jumps into my throat. Goddamn, she's beautiful. And the more irritated I get, them more I want to work out my frustrations deep inside her.

"Ask her," I snap. "She's never said more than couple words to me. Texts, at that. I tried to call, she never answers. I can take a hint."

"Maybe she's scared." Delilah glares at me. If I didn't know better, I'd say her lip is quivering. "Maybe she's just as pissed off as you are about this whole situation, and she doesn't know what to say."

Something doesn't add up. She's way too invested in this, but my brain's too clouded from the scent of her heat. I can't figure it out. Every time I start to think about her too much, my mind's taken over with a red cloud of lust.
 

It's not that I don't have sympathy for the girl. I was raised by humans too, I understand how hard it is to fit in. But that doesn't mean I want a
cure
.

"Well, we've both got plenty to be scared of," I grunt. "But the way I see it, we're doing everything we can to keep the peace."

"It's not fair," Delilah mutters. Shit, I wasn't imagining it. There's definitely at least one tear glistening in her eyes. She brushes it away angrily, like a woman who's not accustomed to crying over much.
 

It's completely understandable. The heat cycle alone is enough to drive the strongest female to tears, and now she probably feels like she's losing her best friend to an arranged marriage that she can't control.

Friend? Or something more?

I hadn't even thought of that. But maybe she's got feelings for Livvy that are making this even harder than it has to be.

I've got nothing against it on general principle, but she could make things messy. The last thing I need is a romantic rival, male, female, cougar or otherwise.
 

"I know it's not." I'm sorely tempted to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder, but I know it'll lead to something more. Something neither of us really wants. "Life's not fair, and then you die. I'm just trying to make the best of it, and I'm sure Livvy is too."

"She doesn't need you," Delilah replies, her voice thick with the tears she won't allow to flow. "She doesn't need anybody."

"We need each other," I correct her. "Or we're both fucked."