Midnight Wish: A Werewolf Shifter Romance (The Protectors Quick Bites Book 1) Read online

  Midnight Wish

  The Protectors Quick Bites Book One

  Keira Blackwood

  Eva Knight

  Copyright © 2018 by Keira Blackwood & Eva Knight

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual persons, places, or events is coincidental. All characters in this story are at least 18 years of age or older.

  The cover utilizes stock images licensed by the author. The model(s) depicted have no connection to this work or any other work by the author.

  Edited by Liza Street

  PS brushes courtesy of Brusheezy.com.

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Also by Keira Blackwood

  Can’t Prove Shift: Chapter One

  About the Author

  About the Author

  Introduction

  Quick Bites--stand alone stories you can devour in a flash. Expect short, steamy shifter romance, edge-of-your-seat action, scorching love scenes, and a happily ever after.

  In the wake of a tragedy, I find my fate.

  One glimpse of her, and I know without question.

  She has a gaze as blue as the sky and determination beyond reason. Her family's ranch teeters on the brink of failure, yet she fights to save what she holds dear, even if she has to do it alone.

  Fate is fearless and caring. And she sees me--not just the man, not just the wolf. She sees what lies beneath, and she doesn't run.

  She's meant to be mine.

  Fate is Harper, the girl next door.

  Snag your free Protectors story, Revenge, exclusively available to Keira’s email list!

  Chapter One

  Chase

  More than a whim, stronger than desire, my need to run was a compulsion. I had to run. It started as an itch, a nagging feeling that only grew the longer I ignored it. Until I could no longer ignore it. Until I gave in.

  The pebbles and underbrush of the mountain forest floor dug into my paws as I plunged into the darkness. Cool air filled my lungs as I leapt over fallen logs and crashed through scrub bushes, their branches scraping against my thick fur. It didn’t matter which path I took or where I was going. These woods were my home, my sanctuary. The pack house had never offered me the same comfort. Not as a child, not as an adult.

  As the only son of the alpha, my fate had always been determined, my every action analyzed. But that wasn’t the case out here. In the forest, I was just a wolf, a part of nature. And I could just be.

  The end of my pack’s territory was fast approaching as I raced along the game trail. A few more feet and I’d reach Barlow Pass. The deer path turned, heading deeper into the forest, but I didn’t.

  I slowed to a walk as the trees gave way to a glorious open sky. With the visual ability of my golden lupine eyes, night turned to day and I bathed in the cool light of the full moon and countless stars. I moved forward and looked over the edge of the cliff, to the forest below and the twinkling town beyond. This was a truly magical place, a locus of spiritual energies. Nowhere on earth did I feel more connected to my primal ancestry—

  “Chase.” The whisper was loud and clear to my wolf ears, his human footsteps resounding and clumsy compared to his wolf form. Even if he hadn’t spoken, I still would have recognized my cousin’s scent as he approached me from behind.

  “You know how I found you?” Ethan asked. “I went to the one place you weren’t supposed to be.”

  Attention fixed on the cloudless sky above, I let go of the wolf. Bones cracked and muscles tore as my body reshaped itself to human form. When the transformation was complete, I was bare-skinned in the cold night, grieving the fur and freedom I’d cherished moments before.

  “I’m still within the pack’s territory.” I turned to meet my cousin’s gaze. He was a near spitting image of me—short-cropped dirty-blond hair, hazel eyes, and the same thin lips we’d both inherited from our mothers. Ethan was shorter than me though, and a bit less bulky. He worked out twice as much as I did and I still had twenty pounds of muscle on him. That, I got from my father.

  “You’re in the territory, sure,” he said. “But just barely.”

  “Did you come all the way out here just to lecture me?”

  Ethan gave a small smirk and shook his head. “No, dumbass, I brought you these.”

  He held out the shoes, jeans, and black t-shirt I’d shed by the edge of woods by the house.

  “Thanks.” I accepted them and started to dress.

  “So what’s the big emergency? What has you walking all the way out here in human form?” I slid the shirt over my head as I waited for him to answer.

  “It’s your dad.”

  Of course it was.

  “What’s the problem?” I asked. “I know it isn’t because someone saw me up here.”

  “No.” Ethan raked his fingers across his head. “It’s the Tribunal.”

  Shit.

  “They aren’t here, are they?”

  “Not yet. Your dad got the call, though. Your interview’s in an hour.” Ethan offered me a sad smile. He knew how much I hated the idea of working for the Tribunal. My dad wouldn’t take no for an answer. To him, all that mattered was my training, absolute discipline, so one day I could take his place not only as alpha but as liaison for all of Montana’s wolf shifters. Me having to take on my father’s duties was still decades away. He was still young for a shifter, and healthy.

  “Ready?” Ethan asked as I finished pulling on my jeans. He was already walking back toward the woods.

  “You go on ahead. I’ll catch up.”

  He stopped and furrowed his brow, wordlessly calling me out on my bullshit. But I wouldn’t miss the interview, even if I wanted to. I just needed a little more time alone first.

  “Really, I’ll be there.”

  “All right.” The skepticism in his narrowed eyes told me he wasn’t convinced. “I did my part.”

  “You did,” I agreed. “Thanks for letting me know.”

  He turned around and raised his hand in a casual wave as he walked back into the woods.

  His form faded into the darkness, and I waited until I could no longer hear his footsteps before setting out. I would be back in plenty of time. I knew better than to defy my father, my alpha—but I’d take the scenic route. No reason to show up earlier than I had to.

  The edge of the territory followed the cliff of Barlow Pass. I followed the jagged line southwest, back into the forest. Trees in every direction. I kept a safe distance in from the Mountain Peak Ranch. The old barbed wire fence at the edge of the treeline marked the cattle fields of our neighbors. I could follow along as far as the towering hundred-year-old oak, then head west until I reached the manor. The diversion would offer me an extra twenty minutes or so alone.

  Even with my limit
ed human-form senses, the forest was serene. Crickets chirped and moonlight broke through tall branches illuminating the way. The trail here was thicker than the one I’d used to reach the pass, offering plenty of space for a casual stroll.

  The crisp scent of mountains and forest filled my lungs. And something else.

  I slowed to a stop.

  Something was wrong.

  I inhaled and was struck by something familiar, something metallic—blood. In and of itself, the scent of blood wasn’t cause for alarm. This was nature after all, full of life and death.

  Another step farther, I filled my lungs with a deep breath, and with it, the scent. It wasn’t just blood. It was human blood, and it was fresh.

  I followed the scent off the path, pressing between saplings and brush.

  A pained cry cut through the quiet night, that of a man.

  Then there was silence.

  Slow careful steps, I watched the forest around me.

  The closer I came to the human, the stronger the scent of blood grew.

  My skin prickled, like tiny needles stinging my bare arms.

  The air grew stagnant. Cold.

  Eyes burrowed into my back. It was the feeling of being watched, though there was no sign of anyone around. I tried to shake it.

  With a deep breath, I sucked in icy air. On exhale, a stream of steam escaped my lips.

  Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. Something was wrong.

  I considered turning back, but someone was hurt. I couldn’t leave him. I had to help.

  I pressed forward, following the scent of blood, until I saw something.

  A few feet ahead, near a rocky outcropping, there was a form on the ground, unmoving. I approached slowly, watching the forest and sniffing the air for signs of predators. Something had caused those wounds. There were the occasional sightings of mountain lions in the area, but there was no sign of anyone but the man on the ground.

  A few steps closer, I was able to make out not only the puddle of blood pooling around him, but also his features. He appeared to be in his mid-fifties, dressed in coveralls. A hunter perhaps, though his face was vaguely familiar. A gash crossed his neck, a deep and wide wound.

  He was breathing, but just barely. No way he could have done this to himself. But whatever had been here was gone.

  I knelt beside him, tore the sleeve from his shirt and tied it over the wound on his neck.

  Short gray beard, the color drained from his face. Where did I know him from? His eyes were closed—likely he was unconscious.

  That was it—the coveralls. He wasn’t a hunter, but a farmer.

  I knew him, at least in passing—Mitch Wainwright, the owner of Mountain Peak Ranch. What the hell was he doing out here in woods? This was pack territory.

  It didn’t matter. I had to get him to the hospital. Now.

  “It’s going to be okay, Mr. Wainwright.” I slipped one arm under his knees, the other under his back, and I lifted. His body hung limp. Fuck. “I’m going to get you some help. You’re going to be okay.”

  It was a promise I wasn’t certain I could keep. But I sure as hell was going to try.

  Chapter Two

  Harper

  Storm clouds gathered over the distant mountaintops, like black cotton candy piled on top of sherbet. Morning light had hardly broken over the horizon before dark shadows had overtaken the sky.

  There was still time left for chores before the rain would start, but not a lot.

  With a toss of the bucket, I scattered dried corn across the ground beside the coop. The chickens flocked toward the sound, with bobbing heads and a chorus of clucks. Willy, the miniature goat that stayed in the fence with them to keep foxes away, also came forward.

  I rushed for the gate before the birds completely surrounded my legs, sparing a glance for the blanket of white and brown feathers behind me.

  Then I returned my gaze upward. The clouds were on the move, slow and steady.

  Heading back up the hill toward the farmhouse, I stayed to the center of the path. Dense greenery grew high on either side, wild blackberry bushes and brambles.

  Nearly to the porch, I caught a hint of movement from the brush. I froze.

  A wild animal this close to the house in broad daylight could mean trouble, but I had a suspicion I knew who it was.

  “Riblet, is that you?”

  More rustling, a snapping twig.

  I pulled an apple from the pocket of my coveralls and knelt down. For occasions just like this, I always tried to be ready, so when I knew I’d be out here, I kept a fresh apple handy.

  There was the sound of sniffing, and a snort. Yep, it had to be Riblet.

  Leaves and branches parted for a massive brown body that charged forward, bursting from cover.

  I rolled the apple across the ground to her, and she scooped it up as quick as a cat. Her curly tail whipped back and forth as her heavy jaw crunched and munched the apple, core and all.

  “I knew it was you.” Slowly, I stayed where I knew she could see me and I stepped closer. Riblet bobbed her head as she crunched down on her snack. Her tail flicked back and forth happily, so I reached down and gently stroked the rough hair between her shoulders.

  Wild pigs were dangerous. I knew it, which was why I was always cautious around her. But I never felt threatened with her. We’d been fast friends ever since I’d found Riblet four years ago.

  When I was a kid, even a teenager, I liked to go for long walks in the wooded parts of the ranch. I always found something new to explore—little creeks and ponds, overlooks with views of the countryside, and every kind of animal that lived here on the mountain. I’d seen rabbits, mostly, but also deer, and once a mountain lion from afar.

  One afternoon I heard a tiny sound coming from a patch of sticker bushes. It was a cry for help, a little wail, one I couldn’t ignore. I’d lain flat on the ground to peer under the vines. There, I saw a little mass of light brown fur with an itty-bitty snout and wide, terrified eyes.

  Just a little piglet, lying on her side, breathing heavily. One of her hind legs was bleeding from what looked to be a bullet graze.

  In nature it was always best not to touch a baby. The mother could abandon her young with one whiff of human scent. Or equally as terrible, momma might attack.

  I looked for the mother, first just by the baby. Then I searched a little farther, cautious that I might actually find her. I didn’t, but what I did find was worse. Not far from the piglet, there was an area where the underbrush had been torn and the dirt kicked around. And there was blood. A lot of blood.

  Lines in the dirt trailed away from the scene. I knew what had happened. Hunters had taken her mother and had wounded the piglet, but left her to die when she escaped into the sticker bushes.

  My father didn’t allow hunters on the ranch, but that didn’t always stop them from coming.

  I went back to the bushes and laid down as close as I could without getting stuck. I couldn’t reach her. So, I pulled myself into the brush by grabbing hold of the thickest trunks and branches. There was barely enough room, even for my tiny frame. The thorns tore at my back and legs, but I was determined to reach her.

  Her fur was thick and softer than I’d expected as I reached out. She didn’t flinch, didn’t move.

  I scooped up the little piglet and shimmied back out, fighting against the stabby vines. By the time we escaped the bushes, I looked worse than she did.

  When I brought her home, Dad wasn’t happy. He didn’t want me to keep her. While he’d never kill one, he was prepared to recite all the reasons wild pigs were dangerous. So, I promised I’d only keep Riblet until she could take care of herself, and that’s exactly what I did. I kept her wound bandaged and clean and bottle fed her with the calf formula we had in the barn.

  After a few months she was big enough to eat anything, and she ate everything. I knew it was time. I knew it was the right thing for her to return to the forest where she belonged.

  After a
tearful goodbye, I’d watched as Riblet made her way into the woods. I didn't have to miss her for long, though, because a few weeks later she was back at the screen door waiting for snacks. Now I always kept a veggie or piece of fruit in my pocket, just in case.

  I looked up from Riblet to gaze down across the valley and over to the mountains. About a mile down I could see the cattle moving, and fast. At this time of day, they should have been grazing. When they ran like that, something was wrong. What had them so riled? A mountain lion, maybe. Or a loud noise, like a gunshot. But if that were the case, I would have heard it, too.

  I looked farther along the cattle’s path, toward the mountain gate. It was shut, of course it was. Still, I squinted to check. It wasn’t easy to make out, but it definitely wasn’t closed and chained like it was supposed to be.

  Fuck.

  Riblet made a startled sound as I jumped up, but she shrugged it off in favor of chomping what little remained of her apple core.

  I raced down the hill toward the barn where we kept the ATVs. There used to be horses stabled beneath the roof instead of farm equipment, but that was a long time ago, when the ranch actually made money instead of teetering on the edge of bankruptcy.

  With a tug, I threw open the barn doors, jumped on my ATV, and slammed it into gear. The wheels spun hard as I peeled out, kicking up earth and rocks as I headed out into the pasture.

  I glanced back and found Riblet waddling down the hill as fast as she could, chasing after me. Sorry girlfriend, we’ll have to postpone our brunch.

  This was bad. Really bad.

  The throttle hit the threshold as I held it steady. Long grass whizzed past while stones kicked up from under my wheels. The wind whipped my blond hair over my eyes and snapped at my cheeks.