Hunger's Mate

 

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Table of Contents

About the Author

Copyright Page

 

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Glossary of Terms

Shadow Shifter Tribes

Topètenia
—the jaguars

Croesteriia
—the cheetahs

Lormenia
—the white Bengal tigers

Bosinia
—the cougars

Serfins
—the white lions

Acordado
—the awakening, the Shadow Shifter's first shift

Alma
—the name of the spa at Perryville Resorts Sedona. Means “soul” in Portuguese

Amizade
—annex to the Elders' Grounds used as a fellowship hall

Companheiro
—mate

Companheiro calor
—the scent shared between mates

Curandero
—the medicinal and spiritual healer of the tribes

Elders
—senior members of the tribe

Ètica
—the Shadow Shifter Code of Ethics

Joining
—the union of mated shifters

La Selva
—the name of the restaurant at Perryville Resorts. Means “the jungle” in Portuguese

Pessoal
—secondary building of the Elders' Grounds that houses the personal rooms of each Elder

Rogue
—a Shadow Shifter who has turned from the tribes, refusing to follow the
È
tica,
in an effort to become their own distinct species

Santa Casa
—main building of the Elders' Grounds that is the holy house of the Elders

The Assembly
—three Elders from each tribe that make up the governing council of shifters in the Gungi

The Stateside Assembly
—body of shifters selected to help govern the Shadow Shifters living in the United States

Stateside Assembly Leader
—(Roman Reynolds) the shifter that has been selected to lead their people, guided by social equality and dedicated to upholding the laws of the
È
tica

 

Stateside Shifter Hierarchy

Stateside Assembly Leader
—Roman Reynolds

Mountain Zone Faction Leader
—Sebastian Perry

Pacific Zone Faction Leader
—Jace Maybon

Central Zone Faction Leader
—Cole Linden

Eastern Zone Lead Enforcer
—Dominick Delgado

Eastern Zone Lead Enforcer
—Xavier Santos Markland

Mountain Zone Lead Enforcer
—Jacques Germain

Lead Guards
—Ezra & Elijah Preston

 

Prologue

If she'd ever considered a career as a bank robber, she would have to think again.

Her hands shook uncontrollably as she closed the bedroom door behind her, flipping the little latch that locked it. She took two additional seconds to breathe in and out, to refocus on the goal, the mission that had been dropped in her lap out of pure desperation. Rolling her head and relaxing her shoulders, she looked forward, resigned herself to what was, and moved across the carpeted floor.

The room was dark, as always, with its chocolate-brown painted walls and tinted windows that always had drawn blinds to keep out the sunlight. If she were inclined to believe in such things, perhaps she'd think he was a vampire—he was certainly evil enough to pull that off. But no, Larry was just a man, a manipulative, controlling, and generally evil man that she had to get away from.

You can't leave me. Ever!

The words sounded in her head as if he were standing right behind her, breathing his hot breath onto her neck, the repulsive partial erection rubbing disgustingly against her ass. She shook her head to lose the memory, to focus on the here and now. She was almost there.

Larry loved to collect artwork—of the perverted sort, that is. The walls of his bedroom were adorned with expensive frames and paintings of women in sordid positions, in chains and masks, being stripped and whipped, or fucked and sucked. He got off on them. She knew because she'd watched him, the sick bastard. He also got off on inflicting pain, all types of pain. In her case, mental being his vice of choice.

This was his favorite portrait. He called her Aphrodite, said she would forever be his goddess of love. There was no real evidence of who she was since her face was covered by an ornate mask with colorful feathers and paints. Her lips, a glossy cherry hue, were parted over bright white teeth. The rest of her body was pale, naked, exposed as she lay across a red velvet Victorian chaise longue. She'd been shaved clean so that she was smooth, appealing and appetizing, he would say. Vulnerable would be the better assessment.

Legs gaped open wide while one hand cupped a heavy breast was her pose. How many times had Larry tried to re-create that exact pose with her in the lounge chair situated across the room? Her teeth gnashed at the thought and she lifted her hand to touch the portrait, activating the secret door that would lead to the safe. Wearing the black leather gloves had felt clich
é
d but right at this moment—as the picture slid soundlessly to the side revealing a slate-gray-colored door with its biometric lock—she knew it had been smart.

With another deep inhale and slow exhale, she reached into the pocket of the short leather jacket she wore, pulling out a tiny white envelope. Her future was in that envelope, she thought as she looked down. It was no more than two inches wide all around and it held everything she needed to continue living with some semblance of sanity. The entire situation seemed pitiful at this very moment, but she'd run out of time to feel sorry for herself or the predicament she'd found herself in. There were only a few seconds left and those seconds had to be dedicated to action only. Retrospect, recriminations, regrets, and whatever else, would have to come later. The simple fact was, she had no other choice.

Leaning her head from side to side she listened for the telltale crack of her neck, then opened the envelope. Inside was a square sheet of plastic. She pulled it out and held it directly over the reader that was about five inches above the safe's handle. Instead of smoothing the plastic into place she moved in closer, aligning her pointer finger with the etchings outlined on the plastic using the penlight attached to the brim of her hat as her only light and guidance. With gentle pressure at first, then a little more persistence, she pressed her gloved finger over the plastic, praying with everything she had that this would work.

Beads of moisture rolled down her spine in slow succession, reminiscent of a spider's predatory trek. Her entire body was tense in the seconds she waited, breath held, eyes glued to the safe. In the next second, there were three short consecutive beeps, then a longer one as the pad beneath her finger turned green, followed by a significant click. She immediately grabbed the handle, turning it to the right, another louder click sounding as the lock was shifted and the safe opened slowly but surely to her.

That was the moment when her life became her own.

 

Chapter 1

Three years later

His skin was like almond bark glossed with a light sheen of sweat, graced by one tattoo over his right bicep. Pure strength rippled along the thick pronounced veins in his arms as he lifted the bar holding two-hundred-and-fifty-pound weights on either side. His position on the bench gave Jewel a great view of thighs cut to perfection with muscle, narrow hips, and a bulge in his shorts that made her mouth water and her temples throb slightly at the thought that this was his relaxed—and not aroused—state.

From where she stood across the floor of Perryville Resort's fitness center, peeking around the wall that she used for cover, Jewel had a magnificent view. A delicious view that had awakened feelings inside her she'd thought long dead. She swallowed deeply, figured her lips were just as dry as her throat, and then licked them before releasing a deep breath. How many times had she come down here to work out? How many hours had she spent in this very room, absorbed in her own routine, focused only on the burn of tired and thoroughly worked muscles? Yet, for the last ten minutes she'd been glued to this spot, watching this man lift those weights, wanting him like she'd never wanted anything else in her life.

“Why don't you join me?”

She startled and stepped back at the sound of the male voice. After a second or two she leaned forward once more, easing her head around the wall and feeling absolutely foolish at doing so, until she saw that he'd sat up on the bench and was staring directly at her.

“I said, why don't you join me?” he asked again, the cleft in his chin holding her attention as he spoke.

It was easier to find a focal point than to look directly into his eyes. They were smoldering, she knew because she'd just peeked and felt waves of heat pouring over her. This was ridiculous. He was just a man and she was just a woman and even considering the distance between them, there should not have been any type of connection.

But there was.

Jewel cleared her throat. “I'm leaving,” she announced but failed to move.

“No, you're not,” he said in a slow, casual tone that made her feel just as uncomfortable as if he'd demanded she stay instead. “You're still standing there watching me. You'd get a better view if you came closer.”

The arrogant jerk, she thought, but didn't fire those words at him.

“I think I've seen enough,” she replied instead.

He gave her a curt nod and a shrug of those perfectly cut shoulders. “Suit yourself.”

Before she could reply he lay back on the bench. His feet planted firmly against the floor, his thighs flexing, preparing to hold him steady as he lifted hundreds of pounds. The rippled plains of his abs uncurled, like a feast being uncovered for consumption. His arms rose, his fingers wrapping around the metal pole, closing, opening, closing again before he boosted it off the rack. Glossy dark biceps flexed, muscles bulged. Jewel's nipples hardened, intense spikes of pleasure traveling from the heavy mounds to rest with a persistent throb between her legs.