Alpha’s Moon: A special forces shifter romance (Shifter Ops series Book 1)
Alpha’s Moon: Chapter 2

Sadie

Sadie, are you heading to the plaza? I’ll be there too. Let’s catch up after your girls’ night. The text beeps through on my phone and makes my stomach twist into a dense knot. The message may sound friendly, but it registers in my body as an assault.

I am so done with Scott Sears and his attempts to win me back.

What part of “it’s over” did he not get?

I roll my eyes and shove my phone back in my purse, shifting my ridiculous but precious package back under my arm as I duck through the crowded Taos restaurant after work.

It’s dinner time on a school night, and while most nights I’d rather go home and chill after teaching kindergarteners all day, it’s Wednesday.

Whine Wednesday, as me and my girl posse like to call it, and Whine Wednesdays are sacred.

“Sadie, over here.” Adele waves from her seat at a table on the patio. The knotted muscles in my neck relax a hair when I see her and the rest of my friends. Tabitha and Charlie slouch in their chairs but sit up a little straighter when they see me. Adele remains sitting with her back ramrod straight.

My friends are the best. We’re all different, but it works.

Adele’s the polished, always-put-together Creole beauty who owns the local chocolate shop. She’s our mother hen, and always looks perfect in her vintage clothes. Tonight she’s in a 1950s style swing dress, the moss green color perfectly complementing her golden brown skin and green eyes. Instead of a jacket, she wears a shawl in taupe with gold thread. She’s the fancy one in the group, and she owns it.

Tabitha often wears vintage clothes too, either from the 1920s or 60s and 70s. Somehow she pulls off a sequined flapper dress one day, giant bell bottoms the next. Today she lounges loose-limbed in her chair with a beaded headband and a yellow jumpsuit. Another one of her Cher outfits, and she looks the part with her olive skin and narrow face.

Charlie is Charlie. She’s the shortest of us and the most fit. Most of the time, I see her in a blue button down shirt and sturdy navy shorts or pants—her post mistress outfit. Her job gives her a perpetual tan that matches her short blond hair. Right now she’s wearing a faded t-shirt that reads “In my defense, I was left unsupervised.”

And me, I’m just Sadie Diaz, Taos native. Kindergarten teacher, brown eyes, brown hair. Average height, average weight, average everything. Tabitha tells me I dress like a kindergarten teacher, whatever that means. The kids love my kitty earrings and brightly colored ballet flats.

“Glad you made it,” Charlie smiles at me. She’s already got a margarita in front of her, and I try not to look too jealous.

“Sorry I’m late,” I say and swing my bag off my shoulder. “I had to pick up a package.”

Tabitha grimaces at the black toy box I set on the restaurant table. “What the hell is that?” Her voice is loud enough to make several fellow restaurant goers swivel their heads to our table, but she doesn’t care. She leans back, nose wrinkled as she regards the toy.

I get why she’s making a face. The stuffed toy inside is a cross between a demon and a jackrabbit, with red eyes, antlers and fangs.

“It’s a jackalope,” I say, my tone apologetic. All three of my best friends lean in to inspect the toy box.

“Oh I’ve heard of these.” Charlie picks up the box and wrinkles her nose as she reads the back print. “It’s the hottest toy this year. Sold out in most states.”

“I ordered mine nine months ago,” I admit. “The kids in my class can’t stop talking about it. There are parents willing to commit murder to get one for their kids. That’s why I have it here. It just came in, and I’m not letting it out of my sight.”

“How does this work? Oh yes.” Charlie pushes a red button marked, Try me! on the clear plastic, and creepy laughter echoes from the box. The monstrous toy shakes, and its red eyes flash. “Don’t you want to play?” it mocks in a voice straight from Poltergeist.

“Holy shit!” Tabitha chokes. “What the hell?”

“Oh, hell no.” Adele shakes her head, so her soft brown curls bounce around her face as she holds up a hand. “That is too creepy.” She shivers and tugs her shawl around her. With the sun going down, it’s getting cool.

“It is creepy.” I examine the toy more closely. “The first time I pressed the button, I almost dropped the box. And I knew it did that.”

“Press it again,” Tabitha says with a wicked grin. Adele rolls her eyes.

“You sure?” Charlie hovers her thumb over the button.

“Do it,” Tabitha has a maniacal look not unlike the demon jackalope.

Gritting her teeth, Charlie pushes it. “Don’t you want to play?” a sinister voice whispers from the toy box.

“Oh!” Adele and Tabitha both cry. “Put it away,” Adele orders. Tabitha looks like she wants to push the button again.

“Shit,” Charlie says emphatically and places the box at arm’s length away from her on the table. “Kids really like to play with this stuff?”

I shrug.

“Kids these days,” Adele says, straightening her silverware beside the empty place where her plate will go for the fifth time. “Way more into scary stuff than I ever was.”

“At least it’s not baby Cthulhu. Those were super in last year,” I say. The waitress bustles up with her tray full of our drinks, and I take the toy and carefully set the box back in my bag.

“So you got one for your class?” Adele asks.

“Yeah. Only one, so they’ll have to share.”

“You are the nicest kindergarten teacher ever.” Tabitha salutes me with her strawberry margarita. “And that’s saying something. That bar is high.”

“To Sweet Sadie,” Charlie raises her Fat Tire in toast.

“Sadie,” Tabitha and Adele join in, raising their glasses.

I flush and sip my mango margarita with them. My friends are the best thing in my life right now. I love them like sisters, even though we couldn’t be more different.

“You didn’t want a margarita?” Tabitha asks Adele.

“No,” Adele sniffs and swirls her red wine in the glass.

“They’re really good,” Tabitha singsongs and flips her long, straight red hair over her shoulder.

“No thank you.” Adele tips the glass, closing her eyes and swirling her wine to inhale the bouquet.

“Snob,” Tabitha mocks gently.

“Leave her alone.” Charlie’s voice is a little loud, but it’s not the alcohol talking. Charlie just likes to be loud. She balances her chair on its back two legs for a second then lets it fall to all fours with a thud. “Someone should be drinking wine,” she pronounces. “It is Wine Wednesday.”

“You mean Whine Wednesday,” Tabitha corrects. “We agreed when we started this tradition we don’t actually have to drink wine, we just have to whine. So who’s going first?”

“Sadie.” Adele’s green eyes pierce me over her wine glass. She sees everything, and she’s our unofficial mother hen.

“Sadie? Everything all right?” Tabitha asks.

“Who do I have to kill?” Charlie adds and plants her elbows on the table. “Is it Scott? I will fuck him up.” She means it too.

“Everything’s fine.” I sigh and set down my margarita.

“Nope, come on, spill.” Tabitha waves her fingers in a come hither motion. “What’s Scott up to now?”

“Are you guys back together?” Charlie’s brow furrows. “I thought after… The Incident…”

“The Incident? Is that what we’re calling cheating now?” Tabitha runs her finger around the rim of her margarita, collecting the salt.

“We’re still broken up,” I say. “But he wants me back. He just texted again, asking if we could meet tonight.”

“Seriously? He cheated on you!” Both Charlie and Tabitha explode.

“Shhh.” Adele lifts a hand. “Calm down, Sadie’s talking.”

“Thanks.” I give her a small smile. “We’re not getting back together. I told him no, but he’s being really persistent.” I glance down at my phone in my bag. I turned it off after that last text to get some peace. At any given moment, I could have several missed calls and unread texts from Scott.

“Persistent how?” Tabitha asks, her eyes narrowed.

“Texts, phone calls,” I tell my friends. “Gifts. He sent flowers, chocolates.”

“Did he get the chocolates from The Chocolatier?” Charlie asks Adele.

Adele shakes her head, still looking at me. “No. He knows if he comes into my store, I’ll roast him alive.” She says it delicately, but I have no doubt in a run-in between Scott and Adele, Adele would win.

“Okay, so Scott brought you subpar chocolate,” Tabitha says, emphasizing subpar as if this is the most egregious sin. And in our group, it is egregious. “Then what?”

“He just won’t stop reaching out. The other day, he and my dad were outside the school. Scott said it was for a development meeting, but I think he planned it right when I would take my kids out for recess.”

“Gross,” Charlie says.

“That is just like Scott. So shady. Why doesn’t your dad see it?” Tabitha fretts.

“Because Sadie’s dad is the same,” Adele says firmly. “Birds of a feather.” She looks me right in the eye and raises a slim brown brow.

I keep silent because she’s right. My dad loves Scott and his development ideas way more than I ever did. He has our marriage all planned, so then, the two of them can take over all the real estate in the area. Adele is right. Scott is a carbon copy of my dad.

“You’re going to resist, right?” Tabitha bites her lip. “You won’t take him back?”

“No.” I have no intention of letting Scott in ever again. “But he won’t stop. You know he won’t just take no for an answer.”

“Gross,” Charlie says again and drains her beer. The rest of us finish our drinks too, and when the waitress comes by, we all order another with our food.

“Can we help?” Tabitha asks once the waitress is gone. “Maybe we can talk to him.”

“No, don’t do that. Knowing Scott, it’ll make things worse. He’s just used to getting what he wants.”

“You can’t trust these real estate developer types,” Charlie says around a mouthful of tortilla chips. “So pushy. They make deals all day and then come home and think that’s the only way to relate to another person.”

Tabitha agrees, and she and Charlie launch into one of the Taoseños’ favorite topics: the evil real estate developer.

“I’m sorry, Sadie,” Adele says quietly to me.

“It’s okay. Let’s talk about something else. I don’t want my crappy relationship stuff to ruin our night out.”

Adele squeezes my hand but doesn’t say anything

Fortunately, I’m saved by the roar of motorcycles across the plaza. Four big bikes manned by giant bikers roll up to the plaza and stop in an alleyway next to the pedestrian only area.

“Oh jeez,” Tabitha groans. “More Easy Rider fans recreating their journey through the Southwest.” Ever since the iconic sixties film, bikers have made Taos part of their pilgrimage. That’s in addition to the huge annual biker rally up in Red River over Memorial Day that brings over 20,000 bikers to the area.

Something about these guys is different, though. They don’t look like Easy Rider hippie types. Nor do they have the long beards or hair that goes with some biker gangs. These guys are huge and fit. Broad shoulders and barrel chests. Thick, muscled thighs.

Oh God, am I looking at their thighs?

We fall silent as they dismount and file past the restaurant window. They are covered in leather and tattoos, like you’d expect, and all of them wear aviator shades.

“Damn,” Tabitha murmurs, slouching lower in her chair.

“Yikes. I’ll bet if you brush up against one of those guys, you’ll get testosterone poisoning,” Charlie sniffs. The four bikers pause right in front of the restaurant patio. They stand in a badass cluster, talking.

One of them isn’t wearing a leather jacket, just a black leather vest that leaves his arms bare. When he pulls off his aviator shades, his biceps bulge, practically as big as a basketball. The tattoo on his arm—a black wolf under a full moon—ripples, and the muscles in my lower belly clench, hard.

The biker who just removed his sunglasses swivels his head slowly in our direction. He’s got dark hair buzzed into a crew cut, leaving nothing to mar the masculine lines of his face. Wowza. His coffee-dark eyes flash weirdly in the dusky light. A jolt runs through my limbs. He’s looking straight at me.

My hand, of its own volition, rises into the air.

“Sadie!” Tabitha whisper-shouts. “What are you doing?”

I honestly don’t know. I can’t seem to look away from the guy, who is about as much my type as the lamppost behind him. Still, I give a little wave. The biker jerks up his chin in salute. A shock of electricity runs through me, tip to toe, like I’ve been struck by a mini bolt of lightning. The man’s perfect lips twitch into the hint of a smirk, and he turns back to his buddies.

The biker guys finish their conversation and stride away. Their heavy boots make no sound on the stones, but the air of the square seems to crackle. The dark haired biker looks back, right at me, and winks. Another zap, and my heart trips over itself.

“Wait… did that guy just wink at you?” Adele exclaims.

I laugh. “Yes, I believe he did.”

“Oh sweet baby Jesus,” Tabitha groans.

“Those guys are scary,” Charlie jerks her thumb over her shoulder.

“I don’t know,” I muse. “I thought he was kinda hot.” Scott was tall and handsome, and prided himself on his gym made muscles. But stand Scott next to that dark haired biker, and my ex would look like a bobble head toy.

My friends’ mouths drop at my admission, and then we all dissolve into girlish laughter.

I look out the window to see where they went.

“Who are those motorcycle guys?” Tabitha asks the waitress when she comes with our food.

The woman shrugs. “I see them around here from time to time. Sometimes on their bikes, sometimes in one of those army looking trucks.”

“Seriously? A Humvee?” Charlie’s eyebrows climb. She knows cars.

“Is a Humvee like a Hummer?” Tabitha asks.

“No, it’s a military vehicle,” Charlie answers. “Not all of them are road legal. Are those guys former military?”

“I don’t ask, honey,” the waitress says. “I keep my mouth shut and look my fill.”

“See,” I point out. “She thinks they’re hot, too.”

“I didn’t say they weren’t hot,” Tabitha mumbles, taking a drink of water.

“Do they ever eat here?” Adele asks. Her water glass is half full, and she’s still clutching it.

“No, they don’t stick around long. When they’re not on their bikes, they load up on supplies and head out,” the waitress says.

Charlie taps her lips. “I thought they looked more military than biker gang. The way they stood, you know? Shoulders back and chests up. And their buzzcuts.”

“I was just looking at the one with the wolf and moon tattoo,” I confess.

“They all had wolf and moon tattoos,” Adele says.

“Really?” Tabitha squints at Adele.

“Yes.” Adele doesn’t say anything further.

“Can you imagine Sadie showing up with a guy like that as her new boyfriend? Scott would shit a brick,” Charlie says.

“So would her dad,” Tabitha agrees.

Adele chokes on her laugh. “Oh god, that would be hilarious. Can you imagine the look on Scott’s face?”

It’s my turn to grab my water and drink deeply. I can just imagine Scott’s face if he saw me next to a biker man like that. He’d throw a fit. But I don’t want to think about Scott. What would it be like to date a guy like the biker? Would he be great in bed? Assuming he’d look twice at me. That kind of guy, those muscles, bare and sleek spread out on my comforter…

A flush spreads over my face. I clutch my empty water glass. There’s not enough water in the world to quench this desire.

“I was just kidding,” Charlie says with an alarmed look my way. Like she’s guessed at my thoughts. How far I’ve run down the road of trying on that giant man as a partner. “I was totally kidding. Those guys definitely aren’t safe.”

“If they’re military, they’re probably a lot safer than a biker gang,” I reason.

Charlie shakes her head. “Even if they are, they’re trouble. I would never date a military guy. They are man-whores and adrenaline junkies. Definitely not boyfriend material. Especially not for you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I demand.

“No, nothing. Just that you’re sweet, Sadie. I only suggested it to be funny. I figured you’d never, ever date a guy who looked like them.”

I shrug my shoulders. “Well, you never know.”

My friends all give me sharp glances, and I wink to make them laugh again, but something rebellious and bold has taken root inside me.

I sort of love the idea of shocking every resident in this small town who thinks they know me by hanging around a big, bad biker.

But Charlie’s right. That’s just nuts.

Deke

There’s a sweet scent wafting across the town plaza. It’s driving my wolf crazy. I keep raising my head and sniffing the air.

“Cut it out,” Lance mutters to me, and a growl rumbles in my chest. My blond packmate is standing too close. Fucker’s doing it on purpose. He knows my wolf needs space.

“Leave him alone,” Channing defends me to Lance. “It’s almost a full moon. That makes him crazy.”

“This is Deke we’re talking about,” Lance retorts. “He’s always crazy.”

I narrow my eyes at him, my growl intensifying. Lance side steps quickly, dancing out of the way. I’ve been known to up and punch my packmates for less provocation.

“No fighting.” Rafe, our Alpha, emerges from the alley shadows. “Not in front of civilians.” By civilians he means humans. Rafe glowers extra long at Lance. The two are brothers, but Rafe never plays favorites. If anything, he’s harder on Lance than us.

“Business done?” Lance asks, running a hand through his surfer blond hair. Fucking pretty boy preens like he’s in a boy band.

“Yep, let’s move out,” Rafe orders.

The other guys immediately follow our alpha. But I resist, scuffing my boots on the plaza stones. That scent calls to me. Candy sweet. My mouth waters.

Rafe doesn’t miss my reluctance. “Deke? You coming?”

“I don’t know.” I rub my chin. “I think I might stay a while.” Even as I say it, I know it’s lame. I’m the last of my pack who’d want to stick around a public plaza crawling with humans. Things are better for me now that I’m out of the service. We have our own place and can run free in the mountains every night. It keeps my wolf manageable. But I’m still the guy who gets edgy around too many people.

“For what? There’s no band tonight.” Channing smirks and points to an old concert flyer. “And I didn’t know you liked Jimmy Buffett.”

I flip him the bird.

“Deke,” Rafe says, a hint of growl in his voice.

“What?” Out of respect for my alpha, I tuck my middle finger away. “I just want to stay out a little longer. Enjoy the night air.”

There’s a long pause while my pack stares at me like I announced I wanted to put on a pretty pink tutu and dance a pas de deux.

“I could stay,” Lance offers.

“I don’t need a babysitter.” Enough of this fucker. I bare my teeth. In answer, Lance’s wolf makes its presence known, eyes flashing blue. My wolf surges to the fore, a second away from snapping its chain.

“Fine.” Rafe steps between me and his brother, inserting himself physically. Ever the peacemaker, until we piss him off too far. Then he kicks our asses. Not a perfect system, but it works. “Deke, you do what you want. The rest of us are heading back.” He jerks his head, and Channing and Lance march to the bikes. Rafe hangs back.

“You sure about this?” he mutters to me. My alpha’s the only one who has the right to ask this question, and it still makes me bristle. I don’t have the best track record around humans. I’m not charming, like Lance. I get downright surly, and if provoked… well, let’s just say trouble is guaranteed

Rafe knows this, and he keeps a closer eye on me. If he were a lesser wolf, my wolf would challenge him and rip him to shreds.

Most of the time, I’m glad Rafe is a better fighter than me. If I ever lost control or went too far, he’d be there to put me down.

But tonight, I want to be left alone. “I’m good,” I say and stretch my lips in a semblance of a smile. This is my happy face, and I know it leaves a lot to be desired. I’ve been told skeletons are less creepy.

Sure enough, Rafe shakes his head. “Don’t show that to civilians. You’ll scare them,” he orders, but then he slaps my arm in universal bro code for “Take care,” and leaves me, heading in the direction of the bikes.

A sigh heaves outta me when my pack rides away. Normally, I’d be glad to get away from this town and all these people. Happy to be on the motorcycle. There’s nothing like a long ride on the mountain roads, the wind rushing over me and chilling my arms, nothing between me and the night sky. But tonight, I’ve got more important things to do than ride.

I lift my head to the moon and drink in the candy sweetness. I’m gonna find the owner of this sweet scent before my wolf goes crazy—crazier than he already is.

Sadie

I’m quiet for the rest of Whine Wednesday. I leave the whining to my friends, and, a little after sunset, I bow out early.

“School night,” I tell the ladies as I say my goodbyes.

As I cross the plaza, I turn on my phone. It buzzes with all the missed texts and calls. Two voicemails from Scott. One from my dad. I don’t know which message I dread more.

At least the night is pretty. The sun has sunk below the horizon, leaving a haze of twilight blue. I thought about leaving Taos, running away like my mom did. But I don’t want to leave my hometown. Besides, I’m more like my father than I care to admit. Stubborn. I might be quiet and sweet, but I don’t like to lose.

A few more text messages pop up on my screen. From Scott, Where are you? And then, I know it’s Wine Wednesday. He spelled it wrong, even though I’ve told him about the pun repeatedly. A simple detail, and he can’t bother—or doesn’t care. It makes me grit my teeth. It wouldn’t bother me, but Scott always looked down on my friends. They were polite enough to him in support of me, but I wish I had let Adele tear him a new one.

I start to order a rideshare home—I don’t drive my car into town on Wednesdays since I know I’ll be drinking—but before I can confirm, a text from Scott comes through that makes a chill run down my body. I see you’re at Lizanos. I’m here in the plaza, by the Rideshare pick up spot. Let’s talk.

Oh no. I hustle forward, but I’m too late. I see the blue sign and sure enough, there he is—a tall, lanky man in black slacks and a sleek athleisure wear jacket. Scott. He’s got his bluetooth headset on, and by the way he’s gesturing, I can tell he’s talking to someone on the phone. Probably making a deal to raze a hundred year old adobe church and put in a bunch of condos and a strip mall.

I halt and step behind a small hut that’s a permanent market stall. I could go back to my friends and ask for an escort to the rideshare area, but with several drinks in them, at least one of them will insist on confronting Scott. And the other two will join in, and it’ll be a scene.

What am I going to do?

A strange green light flashes at me from the alleyway. A dark shape slouches in the shadows. As I watch, it straightens, growing taller and enormous, as a giant man emerges. It’s the biker guy from earlier, the one who winked at me. I recognize him even in the dark. He’s got his shades propped on his head. His eyes are dark brown but catching the light in a weird way—flashing green. He’s looking right at me.

Can you imagine Sadie showing up with a guy like that?

I clutch my cardigan closed. I have a wild, crazy idea, and before I lose my nerve, I walk over to him.

Scary biker dude is even bigger up close. He’s got dog tags on a chain around his neck. Military, like Charlie said.

I lick my lips. I can’t even believe I’m doing this. “Excuse me,” I call to him. My voice comes out squeaky. I clear my throat and try again. “Excuse me. Can you help me with something?”

He steps forward like he was just waiting for my invitation. His head cocks to the side, and his perfect lips part. “Yeah, sweetheart?” His voice is deep and soft. Normally, I hate being called sweetheart, but his eyes are on my face. His nostrils flare like he’s breathing me in, and his eyes seem to turn even more green.

His intense regard is a little unnerving.

“Um,” I squeak again. “I’ve got a problem.”

“Problem?” he echoes.

“Yeah. It’s not that big of a deal, but I was hoping you could help me.” This is crazy. This is nuts. This is the boldest thing I’ve ever done, and I’ll probably never have the nerve to do again. Maybe it’s the mango margarita talking, or maybe it’s just me being brave for once.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” Biker man agrees so quickly I lose my train of thought.

“You don’t even know what it is.” I gaze up into his brown eyes and get a little dizzy.

He shrugs. “Try me.”

“Okay. There’s this guy,” I say in rush. “He’s actually my ex, and he’s kinda bothering me. He tracked me down somehow, and he’s over there, waiting for me.” I point to the rideshare parking spot.

The biker peers around the corner. A low, rumbling sound seems to emit from his chest. The biker turns back to me, and the sound abruptly cuts off. “You want me to kill him?”

“No.” I giggle at the joke. Because it has to be a joke, even if the man sounds dead serious. “Silly.” I shake my head at him like he’s one of my kindergarten students.

A grin forms at the corners of his lips, and I feel warm all over.

“You sure, sweetheart?” Now there’s a hint of teasing in his voice.

“Yeah.” I play along. “It’s too public here. And where would we even hide the body?”

The guy scratches his chin. “We could figure something out. You could lure him somewhere. Somewhere remote. And I could make it look like a wolf finished him off.”

“Um, okay.” That is weirdly specific. I pretend to think about it. “Nah, not necessary. I just want him to back off. I was just thinking you could walk me over there and pretend to be my date. Just for a few minutes.”

“Your date,” he repeats.

Oh God. It was a stupid idea. I’m embarrassing myself horribly here.

“That’s what you want?” The man raises a dark brow.

Here it comes, my blush, rolling up from my chest. Fortunately it’s night, and the dim plaza lights should hide my bright red face. “If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s okay.” I want to turn away to escape this humiliation, but the biker ducks his head close. He smells like leather and clean male skin. My senses tingle. “Seems more efficient to make it permanent.” I can tell by his tone he’s joking.

I let out a hysterical giggle. “Could you do it my way?” I whisper back. “As a favor?”

“A favor, huh?” He tucks a bit of hair behind my ear. At his touch, my legs go wobbly, and I lean back against the building.

It occurs to me that approaching a huge and scary-looking man in a dark alleyway was probably not my brightest move. What made me think he was safer than Scott? But I can’t find it in me to be afraid. The flutters in my belly, the ratcheting of my pulse—they aren’t from fear. No, they’re from excitement.

“What’s your name?” I ask over the pitter-patter of my heartbeat.

“Deke. Yours?”

“Sadie.”

“Sadie,” he murmurs in his deep voice. He rests an arm above me. For a moment, his big body cages me against the wall.

I’m still not scared.

Instead, I feel small and safe, hidden from the world.

Then he steps away. “Okay, Sadie. Let’s do this.”

Sadie

I sense Deke’s big hand hovering at the small of my back as I stroll across the plaza with him at my side. Deke’s twice as big as me and almost twice as tall, but when he walks he makes no sound.

“My ex’s name is Scott,” I tell him as we walk toward the drop off spot.

“Scott.” Deke’s lip curls.

“We dated for three years.” I don’t know why I’m babbling, but I can’t stop. “I don’t know why I was with him so long. He was nice in the beginning, but…”

Deke’s broad chest vibrates with another rumbling sound. Automatically, I put my hand on his shoulder, and the sound cuts off. He stops in his tracks, and so do I, turning to face him.

“He didn’t hurt me,” I clarify. “We broke it off when I found out he was cheating on me. But now he wants me back.”

“And you, Sadie?” Deke studies me in a way that sends little shivers up and down my spine. “What do you want?”

My heart sighs at the question. When was the last time a man asked me what I want? “I want him to leave me alone.”

“And then what?” We’re face to face and chest to chest, close enough I can feel his heat soaking into my skin. There’s an ache growing in my lower belly, a deep hunger I haven’t felt in far too long.

“I want to be happy. I want to be free.”

Deke puts his hand on my arm, and for a moment, it’s just the two of us. His fingers circle my forearm and slide down, shackling my wrist. His thumb brushes over my pulse, and I’m this close to giving up our mission and finding a dark corner to explore the promise of this stranger’s touch.

Then I hear Scott’s voice echoing across the parking lot. He’s on the phone but not bothering to keep his side of the conversation quiet. He always did that, even when we were at home, as if he wanted to make sure everyone within twenty feet knew how important his call was.

I turn, but Deke doesn’t let go. He slides his hand down further to take my hand and thread his fingers with mine. My heart hammers at the excitement of it. The audacity of holding a stranger’s hand so intimately. It feels wild and rebellious and fun. I smile up at him, and his lips kick up a bit at the corners. We walk the rest of the parking lot like that, hand in hand.

Oh God, I hope I haven’t made a mistake. I pick up my pace and trot out a little ahead as we approach my ex.

Scott sees me and pivots. “Sadie.” He touches his headset and loudly tells the caller he has to go, instead of making me wait five minutes for the call to end naturally—like he used to do when we were dating. He gives me his toothpaste commercial smile as if to say See, baby? See how important you are to me? I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

Then Scott notices Deke, and his eyes narrow. It’s so obvious what he’s thinking. Another man on my turf.

I brace myself for a pissing contest. Not exactly a proud moment for me, using another man to intimidate my ex. But then Deke squeezes my hand and steps forward to face Scott, and I realize just how small and plastic-looking Scott is. Fake tan and perfect hair. He looks like a Ken doll next to a souped up G.I. Joe.

I’m going to enjoy this.

“Scott,” I say. “I got your texts. All of them.”

“Sadie.” Scott looks down his nose at Deke. An impressive feat, considering Deke is taller than him. “Is this a friend?”

“Nope,” Deke says. “I’m Sadie’s new man.” And he drapes his arm around my shoulders. I step close and lean against his chest. His very firm, muscular chest.

“This is Deke. We just met, and…well, we hit it off.” I smile up at Deke. Our gaze locks for an extra long second, and I forget to breath. Wow, he really is stunning.

I almost forget Scott is standing right in front of us. He clears his throat three times before I return my attention to him. Scott’s nose wrinkles like he smelled something rotten. “Sadie, this isn’t like you.”

I give him a mock innocent expression. “What isn’t?”

“I mean… you just met? You’re holding this guy’s hand?” He gives his head a shake, like he’s trying to erase the whole thing from his mind. “I was hoping we could talk. Alone.”

I stay quiet, and Deke squeezes me gently. I realize my fake biker boyfriend is waiting for my cue. He’s going to let me stand up for myself first.

“That’s not necessary. It’s over, Scott. I’ve moved on.”

“Sadie—” Scott steps forward, and that rumbling sound comes from Deke’s chest again. It’s a growl. A literal growl.

Scott freezes midstep.

“Take a hint, Sears,” Deke uses Scott’s last name. Maybe Deke knows Scott better than I thought. “She’s over you. Listen to what Sadie’s telling you and move on.”

Scott starts to sputter, and Deke gently turns me, so our backs are to my ex. “Ready, babe?” Deke asks me.

“Yes,” I say, though I have no idea what he’s talking about. He keeps me nestled in the crook of his arm as he walks me back across the plaza towards his bike. When we reach the giant motorcycle, he releases me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see that Scott still watching us.

“Here.” Deke hands me something. A black helmet.

“What’s this for?” I ask.

“Your head.” Humor laces his tone. “You want to go for a ride? Just to rile him up?”

My eyes go wide, but I nod. Yes, yes I do.

He takes the helmet and puts it on for me, adjusting it to my head and fastening it carefully. My heart goes tha-thump as he fusses over the strap, his big fingers surprisingly nimble. He unlatches the side saddlebag and motions for me to hand him my big bag with the jackalope. When I do, he sets it in the leather case and threads the belt-like lock. Then he swings onto the bike, kicking up the stand and steadying it. “Hop on.”

Ok, this is happening. He wants me on the bike. I picked a biker for a fake boyfriend, and now I’m about to ride off with him with my ex watching.

Deke turns on the bike and revs it. The air shivers with the engine’s roar.

“Ready, babe?” he calls over the noise.

I’m not sure if he’s calling me babe in case Scott hears or if he’s just calling me babe because that’s what he calls women, but it makes me smile.

I take a deep breath and swing on behind him. He takes my hands and locks them around his front. I grab a handful of his soft t-shirt and feel a thrill at the hard muscles underneath.

I can’t believe I’m doing this.

“Okay?” Deke calls over his shoulder. His cheek is curved into a grin. He’s not wearing a helmet.

“You’re not wearing a helmet,” I say. I sound like a prissy kindergarten teacher, even to my ears.

“Babe,” he says in reply, and the bike takes off with a roar. We ride right past Scott. I can’t see his face, but I can imagine his stunned rage. It is delicious. I give a little wave in his direction and then grip Deke tighter as we fly up the main drag of town—Paseo del Pueblo Norte road—and around the curve into the open night.

I never knew riding a motorcycle was so much fun. The night air is crisp and rushes all around us. Deke’s bike is a monster of leather and chrome, purring hot under me, but Deke’s even bigger. He rides with perfect ease, his big body solid and upright, blocking most of the wind. I press against him, my cheek to his leather vest. He doesn’t go too far out of town, turning down a back road to loop back. When he leans into turns, I lean with him, and the bike twines nimbly up and down the back roads of Taos.

For a moment, I think about shouting a few questions—“Where are we going? What’s the plan?”—but the sky is so vast above us, black velvet studded with diamond stars, and the night is so big and boundless, I forgot my concerns. There’s nothing but the giant man I’m holding onto, the bike rumbling under the both of us and the endless roads. Worries about work, Scott, my friends and what the hell I am doing fall away. I leave them behind like old hubcaps and alligator strips on the side of the road.

I am happy. I am free.

Deke guides the bike over a one-lane bridge and stops. I look at the babbling river just below—a tributary of the Rio Grande. Above us, through the treetops, a million stars glitter in the dark sky. It’s dark and secluded, but I’m not afraid.

“This is nice,” I say.

“Yeah.” His voice is soft. He looms over me, large but not imposing. The night air is chilly, and I should be cold, but all I feel is the heat emanating off him. Another step, and I’d be in his arms.

I met this guy less than an hour ago, and already I’ve been on his bike. I put my arms around him and held on tight. And now I’m out here, alone, just me and a stranger who already seems like a friend.

I’m perfectly content until I realize what my friends would say.

I just got on the back of a stranger’s motorcycle and let him drive away with me. Into the dark. Without any discussion of where he was going or how I would get home.

Deke

The little human gazes up at me, biting her lip. The wind kicks up, carrying her candy scent to me. I can’t get enough of it. She is literally the cutest human I’ve ever met. Everything about her makes me want to smile. And I haven’t smiled in ages.

Now that I’m alone with Sadie, the constant noise I usually tolerate from my wolf has died down. That urge toward violence—the underlying restlessness—seems to have dropped away. It’s been replaced by the urge to mark her, but that feeling I can control.

I won’t go there with sweet Sadie Diaz. I know claiming a human is an impossibility for me.

I’m way too far gone. Too dangerous.

“Um, thanks for helping me with that,” Sadie says.

“No problem. Happy to help.” I would’ve done it anyway. I wish I could’ve done more, and if I’d met Scott alone, maybe I would have. As it turned out, I acted pretty civilized. My pack would be shocked.

“I never thought Scott would be like this.” Sadie shakes her head. I hate hearing his name on her lips, but I’m glad she’s confiding in me. I’m happy to let her talk. “What I don’t get is how he knew where I was. He’s stalking me somehow.”

Now this I can do something about. “Phone,” I order and hold out my hand, palm up. She tilts her head at me, her brow wrinkling.

“Let me see your phone,” I clarify. I’ve gotta remember to speak in full sentences. Most of the time I don’t bother. I hate people and speaking in monosyllables is a good way to communicate my contempt. It drives my pack crazy, which is a bonus.

She pulls her phone out of her jeans pocket and hands it to me.

“Password?”

“No password,” she says.

“Seriously? You need a password.” I swipe to the security set up and have her put in a password. “Nothing too easy to guess,” I lecture. “No common dates or birthdays.”

“Fine.” She pretends to complain but types something in.

“You got one?” I ask, and she nods. “Good. What is it?”

She frowns at me before she realizes I’m joking. “Like I’d tell you,” she retorts playfully.

“Good girl.” I give her a half grin then get her to unlock the phone for me. I search only a second before I spot the tracking app. I show the screen to her. “Did Scott ask you to install this app?”

Her eyes get wide. “What is that?”

“It’s an app that broadcasts your phone’s location to anyone you invite.”

“I didn’t install that. Scott never asked me to install anything,” Sadie says.

Fucker. Maybe I will kill him. I can’t have my wolf do it now that I shared that plan with Sadie. I’ll have to think up something else.

“He probably did it without asking then. It would be easy because you didn’t have a password.” I type with my thumb as I talk, uninstalling the app. “I’m getting rid of it. When you get home, back up your data and do a hard reset. Keep the password and restart your phone every morning. The best offense is a good defense.”

I also enter my phone number. “I’m putting my number in here in case you need a rescue again. Is that okay?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Sadie accepts the phone back and squints up at me. “How do you know all this?”

“I’m in security.”

“Like cyber security?” The wind ruffles her hair, and I step closer to shield her from it.

“All types of security. But mostly government security missions.” This is the longest conversation I’ve had with a human in years. I’d never willingly offer this information up to anyone, but Sadie is different. Sadie is special. “My partners and I own Black Wolf Security.”

“Oh!” Her eyes sparkle. “Is that why you all have wolf tattoos?” sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I rock back on my heels. “You noticed that?”

“My friend did. I only noticed yours.”

My dick stirs against my zipper. My wolf likes that she picked me out of the pack. “We all got them before we left the army.” I push up my sleeve and show her my biceps. “We were Special Ops.”

She traces the moon with light fingertips. Electricity shoots through me, and I lean closer to catch the vanilla scent in her hair. She’s pale skinned and luminous in the moonlight, her silky hair wafting around her face. Normally, I hate being touched, but my wolf would happily stretch out for a belly rub.

“It’s nice.” She fingers my tattoo. Is her voice deeper, husky? Is it the night air?

She pulls her hand away, and I have to swallow several times. My cock is a hard bar, pressing against the front of my jeans. “What about you?” I ask, my own voice deeper than normal to my ears. “What do you do?”

“I teach kindergarten. Which reminds me, I should get home. It’s a school night.”

“Did you leave your car in the plaza? Or do you want me to take you home?”

She nibbles her lip. I think the stop made her nervous. Which is good. She shouldn’t just hop on the back of a random guy’s motorcycle and ride around town with him. Still, I hate the thought of her being afraid of me.

“Home, please.”

“Sure. Give me the address.” The least I can do is see her safely home.

I savor each second of the ride to her condo north of Taos. She squeezes me closer every time I lean into a turn. I take the final miles slower, easing into each turn, enjoying the night-painted landscape instead of speeding by. The shadows and midnight blue.

I pull up to her door and plant my feet to steady my bike but stay facing forward, shoulders rigid. This wasn’t a date—it was a rescue op. My job was to get the package to her place. Not to walk her to the door. Definitely not to lean down to savor that delicious scent before she goes inside.

For a moment, Sadie doesn’t move. She’s still holding me as if reluctant to disentangle herself. I grit my teeth and try not to think how easily she could slide her hand down my stomach, into my jeans. My cock jerks at the thought.

Finally, she slips off the bike. I lose the battle with myself and turn my head slightly to fill my senses with her vanilla scent.

“Thanks for the ride,” she says. “And, um, everything.” She removes my helmet and hands it to me. I swap her purse for it. She slings her bag over her shoulder but still makes no move to go.

“Are you going to be in town tomorrow for Plaza Live?” she asks after a moment of fidgeting. “The Flying Oysters are playing at six. They mostly do covers, but they’re pretty good.”

“Sure,” I say, even though I had no intention of attending any Plaza Live ever. But it seems I’m incapable of denying Sadie anything she asks of me. My pack will laugh their heads off if they find out. But there’s no way I’m missing a chance to see Sadie again. Not because I”m going to try anything with her. Just to make sure she’s safe from Bonehead. “I’ll be there.”

“Okay. Night, Deke.” She’s gazing at me, her face upturned.

Don’t touch her. Don’t touch her. Definitely don’t kiss her.

I can’t stop myself from reaching out, catching the back of her neck and drawing her close. Her vanilla scent washes over me, and I breathe it in like I just got out of prison, and this is my first breath of fresh air in a decade.

I muster some control and only press my lips to her forehead, where her hair’s mussed and a bit damp from the helmet. I don’t let myself taste her lips. And I don’t get off the bike. If I dismount, there’s no turning back.

After a moment, I let her go.

She backs up uncertainly, her pretty lips parted.

“Night, Sadie.”

I don’t ride off immediately. I wait until she’s inside. She disappears, and the door lock clicks—my supernatural hearing won’t let me miss a sound. What I don’t hear is her moving away from the door, getting on with her night. The filmy white curtain in the window trembles a little, like she just twitched it aside. She’s watching me.

I turn my bike back on and roll away. I still feel her silky skin under my lips. My wolf doesn’t like me riding away. The instinct to turn the bike around and drive back nearly chokes me.

My wolf wants Sadie. He wants me to get her under me, tonight. He wants me to mark her as my own. Keep her.

But that’s not possible. Because he’s not fucking safe. Marking a human is dangerous under the best of conditions, and my wolf? He doesn’t know restraint.

So I’ll be staying the fuck away from Sadie Diaz. Because there’s never been a human I needed to protect more.

Sadie

Despite the drinks and the night air, I’m not sleepy at all after Deke drops me off. I put the jackalope doll by the front door and flitter about my one-bedroom apartment organizing myself for the morning.

I’m all fluttery and excited. Also freaking out.

I’ve never done anything so reckless in my life. I am the type who is too trusting of strangers—I’ve been told that by my dad and my friends at least fifty-seven times. But I don’t usually go around actively soliciting strange men. Or engaging in questionable activities like getting on the back of a motorcycle with one.

But my instincts told me he could be trusted.

And they were right! I was perfectly safe the whole time. I wore a helmet. He took me straight home when I asked him to, and he didn’t even try anything with me—a fact I find myself slightly disappointed over. He wasn’t the man-whore Charlie warned me of. He only kissed my forehead! Maybe he’s not interested, and that’s fine. I still loved every second of it.

Maybe I’m the adrenaline junkie because I’m all amped up now at my wild behavior. I have to say, it felt great to pretend I might date a guy like Deke. A big, bad, motorcycle-military guy. I let my wild out a little bit tonight. It felt rebellious and fun. I felt in charge of my own destiny for the first time in… I don’t know how long.

Maybe since my mom left.

I flop back on my bed, and a puff of laughter comes from my lips.

When my phone buzzes with a text, I snatch it up. The twisted sick anticipation of finding another text from Scott is gone, replaced by anger.

This guy needs to leave me alone.

Sure enough, it’s from Scott. Sadie, I’m really worried about you. That guy you were with tonight is trouble.

Instead of ignoring the text like I usually do, this time I answer. Stop texting me. I don’t ever want to hear from you again. It’s over.

There. I feel like I said that before, but I was being Sweet Sadie then. Now, I don’t think I could be more clear.

Turns out standing up for myself feels good.

I roll onto my side, my thoughts slipping back to Deke. Of course, I wouldn’t really date a guy like him. He wouldn’t be interested in someone like me, for one thing.

And I doubt we have anything at all in common.

Still, the memory of his huge hand cupping my nape or the way he caged me in against the building in the alleyway—not like he was trapping me. More like he was shielding me—flit through my mind producing those butterflies in my belly.

What would it be like to run my hands over that chiseled body? To feel the power of his massive body over mine? Or under mine?

I slip my fingers between my legs and moan softly when they make contact. I pretend my fingers are Deke’s giant ones. How would he touch me? Would he be rough? Or gentle?

Somehow I’m sure he’d be gentle. A big guy like him would’ve learned restraint with a woman. I bet he’d know exactly how to touch me. I’ll bet he wouldn’t critique my performance the way Scott used to.

Ugh. I don’t want to think of Scott ever again.

Maybe he’s what I need to move on. I’m sure he’s not looking for a girlfriend. Especially not with someone like me. And we wouldn’t work anyway—I mean, my dad would never accept a guy like him for me.

But maybe we could hook up. A wild fling to help me get back into the dating scene.

I roll over to my belly, my fingers still working between my legs. The idea has me all hot and bothered. I bite my pillow and wriggle my hips over my hand.

I’m not even embarrassed when I croak, “Deke!” into the bedcovers when I come.

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