I swear to God, I can’t wait to kill this man. I’ll do it with a smile on my face and a song in my heart.

After retrieving my bike from the bramble bush where I left it, we stop by the motel for my things and then leave civilization behind for the barren desert.

The good thing about riding bikes is that we aren’t forced to communicate. The bad thing about riding bikes is there are no distractions from my own mind. On my Ducati with the wind rushing in my ears and the engine thrumming between my legs, I’m left alone with my thoughts.

And I have a lot of them.

After years of aimless drifting, chasing half-empty leads and just simply existing day to day, I’ve now found myself in the midst of more than I ever bargained for. The plan was always to find my mates, then kill them. End of story. Now, I’ve been poisoned and am two weeks from death. I’ve thrown my lot in with three men I desire more than I’ve ever wanted anything—also, three men I plan to annihilate. And I’m stuck with them for the foreseeable future as we track down a witch for an antidote. All the while fighting this unrelenting need for them.

I feel like I rode my bike into the twilight zone... and right off the goddamn planet.

With hours of free time to think, I study each of the men while we ride. Kian has taken the lead, while Malix cruises beside me, and Frost brings up the rear. It should be surprising that they’re all motorcycle enthusiasts like me, but in the grand scheme of things, if they are my mates, then I guess it makes sense.

I can see tension in Kian’s shoulders ahead of me, and it never fades, not even after an hour, two hours, three hours. I wonder what he’s thinking—if he’s wishing he never walked into Joe’s Bar and Grill last night. That one decision changed everything, not just for me, but for them, as well. If we hadn’t had our run in, Frost probably wouldn’t have shown up in my room for whatever reason he chose to do so, and neither of us would have been poisoned.

I can’t quite believe I’ve formed a truce with the men I’ve sworn to kill. Everything is upside down and backward.

I feel them. Even as we’re on separate bikes with several yards between us, I feel them. This deep, undeniable pull, a metaphysical thread that connects me to all three of them. They’re mine—there’s not a doubt in my mind of that. But no matter what happens, I have to pretend they aren’t.

The fate of the world depends on it.

As the sun’s dipping into the horizon, Kian leaves the highway and zooms across open desert. The heat of the day is fading, and crickets have set up a chorus in the growing twilight. It’s peaceful, if a little bumpy, as we leave behind the road for the wilderness.

A little more than two miles off the highway, Kian slows and comes to a halt, then kills his engine.

I pull up behind him and do the same. “We’re stopping?”

He nods. “I’d prefer to approach the witch well-rested.”

A surprisingly logical response. He warned me back at the cabin that the witch was “very powerful,” so arriving on his doorstep exhausted would benefit nobody.

I fight the urge to groan as I peel my tired ass off the seat, then do a few stretches to work out the kinks. Malix and Frost park their bikes next to Kian’s and dismount.

“Food?” Malix says.

Kian grunts. “Yeah. We can hunt out here, then rest up for the night.”

I toss my backpack onto the ground next to my bike. “A hunt sounds great.”

Malix and Kian exchange glances, and Kian says, “You can stay here.”

“I could,” I say, “but I’m going with you anyway.”

I busted my ass for three years to get into this position. And yeah, it’s not exactly what I wanted, but it’s the closest I’ve come to completing my goal. I’m not letting any of them out of my sight.

Plus, the idea of stretching my legs after so long on my bike sounds marvelous.

I strip off my tank top and unbutton my jeans to shimmy them off my hips. I never mince moments when I’m undressing to shift, because the moment I’ve made the choice to do it, I’m raring to go.

But as I step out of my blue jeans, I realize all three men are standing still, watching me.

Nudity is a fact of life in shifter culture. I could walk around pack lands in the buff without blinking an eye, surrounded by dozens of other naked friends.

This is different.

I might have spent a night with Kian years ago, but he’s sti

ll a stranger. They all are. Their gazes on me feel equally uncomfortable and erotic. They’re all three gorgeous enough that I’m sure they’ve had their fair share of naked women in their beds, so I know I’m not an anomaly. But their gazes feel hungry and… admiring.


Tags: Callie Rose Feral Shifters Paranormal