Slow Shift, Nazarea Andrews [english love story books TXT] 📗

For good or ill, Harper once stood with the Reid Pack and trained Chase when he was an idiot playing with something so much bigger than he could understand.

He won’t leave without at least offering protection.

Harper stares at it for a long moment, then the runes snaking up his arm, the ones that took him twelve hours and Lucas’s assistance to complete.

“Thank you for your gift and protection, Shaman Reid,” Harper says formally, tipping his head to one side and exposing his throat as he accepts the charm.

Chase blinks and nods. He takes a couple steps backward toward the still open gate and says, “Be careful, Harper.”

He’s almost out of the yard when he hears Harper murmur, “You as well, Chase.”

~*~

He dreams.

The woods are alive, and he picks his way through it, listening to the animals in the underbrush, the heartbeat of the land a slow, sonorous thing under his bare feet.

He can hear the heartbeats of rabbits and mice, the quiet rasp of a squirrel scuttling around in its nest, the impossibly quiet sound of a flower slowly opening to the shining moon. He can hear the wolves he calls his own howling, triumphant and happy and whole.

He can hear the Standing Stones whispering an elusive song that calls him closer, begs him for more, for everything, and he wants to give in, wants to slit his wrists and bleed on the Stones as their magic sinks into him, sings through him, fills him up where his life’s blood should flow.

He wants it, and the sentient Stones sing, mine mine mine.

And Tyler is pressing against his knees, pushing him back a stumbling step, snarling possessively, furious and protective, because Chase is claimed, has been claimed long before the Standing Stones called to him.

Chase leans into his wolf’s bristling fur, breathing him in until he can only hear the familiar pounding of his heart and the thrum of his blood in his veins.

~*~

The first attack comes on a cold day in the fall while Chase is leaning against Tyler’s chest, listening to him read. It’s a calm, quiet day, the sounds of Tyler’s low voice lulling him into a sense of contentment.

Then, sharp and sudden, pain sears through him. He screams.

He can hear Lucas shouting, recognizes Tyler’s hands pressing against him, grounding him, but all he can feel is pain, his arm burning, and he gasps, reaching for it, ripping the sleeve up in his haste.

“Jessica,” Lucas snarls, scrambling away before Chase can put together words, and he shoves Tyler.

“Go,” he gasps.

Tyler goes, and Chase huddles there on their bed until Aurora creeps in to wrap around him and murmurs, “I don't want to scream for her.”

He doesn’t ask who she does want to scream for. He doesn’t need to. For now, knowing they’re safe enough.

~*~

Jessica is fine. Furious about her bakery, bloody from the attack, but she’s healed before Tyler herds her into the den.

Chase watches them. “Where’s Lucas? The boys?”

“Getting rid of the bodies,” Tyler says shortly, pushing Jessica toward the shower. The she-wolf snaps at him and Tyler growls. “Now, Jessica.”

Huffing, she stomps away.

“How many?” Chase asks.

“Five. It—it could have been bad,” Tyler says carefully. “But every time they hurt her, they were attacked.” His pale gaze flicks to Chase’s arm, still bare. “What did you do?”

“What I had to do,” Chase says evenly, “I’m keeping the Pack safe.”

“Chase—”

“It’s done, Tyler. And it’s working. Now tell me about the attack.”

~*~

They try again, attacking Joseph at the college, Ezra and Lucas while they run through the forest. They attack Chase in front of the police station, plowing into the Bronco, sending it rolling across the intersection in a screech of metal and shattering glass.

Chase spends a long night in the ER before he’s released, trembling with fury and barely-suppressed pain as he waits for Tyler to pull up.

“Chase?”

He flinches, and the hand on his shoulder drops away.

Ryan smiles at him, wide and disarming, spreading his hands. “Hey, sorry, man, I didn't mean to startle you. Just saw you, thought I’d check on you. You look like hell.”

Chase blinks at him. “You are just as charming as ever,” he says.

Ryan laughs and rubs at his neck as Tyler pulls up. The ‘wolf is around the car far too quickly, eyebrows pulled down in a heavy glare pointed at Ryan.

Chase waves awkwardly with one hand and lets Tyler tuck him into the front seat. He watches, his eyes wide and dazed, while Tyler pulls away.

~*~

He comes to her with blood on his hands and death on his skin.

She watches as he strips and crawls across the bed, crowding into her and kissing her, and she wonders if he can taste her scream, the death wail pushing against her teeth, as he licks into her mouth.

She feels like she’s vibrating out of her skin, and Lucas purrs against her throat as he drags her down the bed and spreads her out, as he settles between her legs and licks and nibbles, fucking her with his tongue and teeth and lips until she’s shaking and the scream building in her throat has nothing to do with death.

While she’s still coming, her body shivering and shuddering, he fills her up, fucks deep and hard the way she likes. His hands are heavy against her skin, smearing blood there as she digs her nails into his back and her little feet into his ass, letting him take everything he needs, taking back from him everything he’ll give.

Death clings to him like a lover, and she clings even harder until it wraps around them both and burns like a scream, a building buzz of electric pleasure that burns and burns and spirals tighter as he fucks her and she opens her mouth to scream as she comes, and he snarls and kisses her, takes the scream right out of her mouth until she’s limp and spent, panting under him.

After he’s spent and licked her clean, he slumps beside her and she looks at him, his