[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Romance, Alternative, Paranormal, Shape-shifter, Werewolves/Vampires, MM, HEA]
Sam Davis is being hunted. To pay off his debts, Sam’s scummy father sells him off to a psychotic panther shifter Alpha on Ashfall Mountain. Negotiations are off the table when the panther pride turns on them. Sam knows his life is over. When he attracts the attention of another violent predator, he isn’t sure if Kris wants to save him or keep him.
Kris Ward has trouble keeping his sanity in check. Violent shifters are sent to Ashfall Mountain to die. He and his brother plan to eventually kill each other off. Kris has no regrets, no reason to live, until he finds Sam, bleeding and clawed nearly to death. Bringing Sam to his pack will cause problems but Kris doesn’t give a damn. Sam is his fated mate and Kris intends to pay back the bastards who hurt him.
A heart-wrenching scream pulled Kris from his grim train of thoughts. He halted, turned to the direction of the sound, and started for it. He didn’t know why he ran like his life depended on it. Kris treaded close to Black Claws territory, too close, but he didn’t care.
Not like Talon would care. His Alpha picked fights all the time and didn’t care about the consequences of his actions. Dom would have his head, but he didn’t think the Beta would ignore someone’s plea for help.
His nose soon picked up the smell of freshly spilled blood as he entered deep into Black Claws land. Kris camouflaged himself in the bushes, reeled in his aggressive aura because what he needed was stealth. As much as he’d like to draw blood from an old enemy, he was outnumbered here.
There it was again. The scream. Kris spotted two panther shifters circling the corpse of an old man in the clearing up ahead. Disgust, then bile rose up at the sight of the cats suddenly feasting on the dead flesh.
What. The. Fuck.
He knew Cyrus and his pride were on the crazy train, but this? Only shifters who’ve gone Feral resorted to cannibalism. Kris turned away from them as heard it again. That piercing scream.
Kris ran further down the path, all too aware of his surroundings. Out here in Black Claws territory, the dense forest was the panthers’ playground. He looked above and around him and stopped cold at the sight that lay before him.
He’d recognize Cyrus anywhere. Unsuspecting humans and submissive shifters easily fell for the handsome panther Alpha’s charm only to realize too late that underneath those good looks was nothing but rot.
Cyrus knelt on the ground, and he looked like he was embracing another man. A human. Kris knew better. That gut-wrenching sound came from the human. That human with the peculiar smell. Underneath all that blood, sweat, and smell of earth was something sweet, a scent that lured his wolf and raised all of Kris’s protective instincts.
Cyrus raised his head. His face and lips were smeared with blood, and so were his fangs.
The human closed his eyes and fainted. Kris stared at the large chunk of flesh missing from the human’s neck. Cyrus raised his wrist to his face and tore at his skin. Understanding filled Kris. Cyrus didn’t intend to kill this human but to Change him. Only Alphas could turn a human into a shifter.
This human didn’t look like he wanted to be Changed. White-hot rage filled every inch of him. Kris couldn’t think. The last time he felt like this, he nearly killed Alec. No. It was so much worse. So angry. That emotion had defined him his entire life, but now, it spilled over him and cleansed him of any other emotion. It purified him.
Rational thought ceased to matter. He let the beast take over.
Kris had one thought left in his head. Kill.
Kris growled low in his throat and padded out of his hiding place.
Cyrus stilled, still cradling the human, Kris’s human in his arms. That was wrong. Only Kris should be able to hold his human that way. His. That was right. Every fiber of his being understood that this human was meant to be his. He was special and this fucking low life had the guts to steal from him. Kris wanted to rip out Cyrus’s arms from their sockets so he’d drop Kris’s human.
“Well, well. You’ve strayed far from your territory, dog,” Cyrus said.
Cyrus mouth was moving, but Kris didn’t really understand the words. Kris lunged at Cyrus, who finally dropped the human. Cyrus shifted as Kris came at him. Even with his wolf in command, Kris knew the chances were slim he’d be able to take on another Alpha all on his own.
He’d take every chance he’d get to keep the upper hand. Vengeance against Cyrus was outweighed by another, more important task. Saving his human. Kris couldn’t allow this human to die before he learned his name, before Kris found out why he seemed so important to him, to his wolf.
Kris tackled Cyrus on the ground. They clawed, went for each other’s vital points all while the human continued to bleed out. Kris risked a look at his human. Shit. The wounds on the human’s chest looked bad. He’d need medical treatment and fast.
Kris went for Cyrus’s vulnerable neck and missed. Claws sliced across his back, but he barely felt the pain. Kris growled as another set of paws swiped at his side. Blood pooled from his new wounds as he ripped himself off Cyrus. Kris needed to stay alive so he could bring his human to safety.
Kris eyed his new opponents.
Two more cat and Cyrus, who looked far too smug for his liking. Kris was badly outnumbered. He looked at the human, at the prize he’d risk his neck for without hesitation. Kris still didn’t understand the reasons behind his actions. He’d never acted this way, felt overprotective over a man he just met, but he didn’t regret it one bit.
“Lift your hands,” Kris ordered. He did as Kris asked, incredibly turned on by how natural it was, following Kris’s commands. Kris peeled off his shirt. He swallowed, remembering the stitches left behind by Cyrus’s rake marks. Kris ran his fingers over them now. The werewolf narrowed his eyes. Kris looked pissed now. At him? At Cyrus?
Kris met his gaze. “I’ll be careful.”
Kris was worried about hurting him? Relief filled him.
“I thought you’d find them ugly,” he admitted.
Kris peeled off his own shirt and his mouth went dry. He licked his lips. Sam couldn’t believe this was really happening. That this sexy man was all his.
“Look at me. I have scars all over. The ink is there to cover them up,” Kris told him. “Be proud of yourself, little warrior. You’re a survivor. More than that, you’re a fighter.”
Kris leaned in close then kissed him again, disabling his ability to think. Kris undid his pants and pulled his dick out. He moaned into Kris’s mouth as the werewolf began to stroke his thickening prick back and forth.
“God,” he murmured when Kris released his mouth.
Kris continued playing with his dick, working him furiously until he panted, begged for release.
“Go ahead. Come for me.”
Closing his eyes, Sam groaned as he spilled his jizz right over Kris’s fingers. He was still floating in la-la land when he felt Kris tugging at his belt loops. Sam opened his eyes only to see Kris pulling away his jeans, followed by his underwear. Kris lifted his other hand, the one coated with his seed, and licked them off. Sam stared, turned on.
“Wait here.” Kris left him sitting on his dining table, buck naked, only to return with a bottle of lube.
“Things are finally getting good,” Sam said.
The werewolf laughed, dragged a chair in front of him. Kris took off his pants and boxers, kicking them aside to join Sam’s pile of clothes. Sam’s gaze lingered on the impressive package between Kris’s legs. Kris’s dick was thick and long, the red tip already leaking pre-cum.
Kris sat on the chair and patted his lap. Sam didn’t need an order. He got off the table and spilled into Kris’s lap, his legs spread apart over Kris’s. Sitting like this, Kris had a good view of his balls, cock, and his asshole. He rested his hands on Kris’s shoulders, heart racing.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” Kris told him, uncapping the lube.
“I’ve only been in the hospital for five days,” he said, moaning as Kris lubed up his fingers and slid one, two, then three inside his hole. The werewolf began widening him for access.
Sam remembered how it gave him comfort to see Kris sleeping on the chair next to the bed or standing outside his door every time he woke up. If Kris wasn’t there, he wouldn’t know what to do. Before Kris, Sam had felt so alone. All he ever thought about was work, and he constantly worried about not being able to pay the rent, the bills, the debts his dad racked up.
Then again, if he’d never met Kris, he might already be dead, torn apart by Cyrus. He’d be buried in an unknown grave with his dad. Sam pulled himself away from those morbid thoughts and focused on the moment.
Right now, Kris’s moving his fingers in and out of his ass felt so damn good that he moaned.
“You’ve never left my side, not once. That means a lot to me,” Sam told him.
“I won’t let Cyrus hurt you again, and besides, I had an ulterior motive.”
“Do tell.” He had trouble stringing complete sentences together.
Kris took his mouth again and Sam let himself get lost in this man. His man.
“I intend to keep you,” Kris said, pulling away from the kiss.