Bloodlines
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About this ebook
When night falls and the moon is full, the hunt calls to her.
Tasha is a fără magie, a magical type of born werewolf. Since the death of their last alpha she has distanced herself from the pack. The problem is the new alpha, Blake, wants her for his mate and he won't take no for an answer. Could Damon, the sexy new faerie in town, be her savior? Or could she be his?
Warning: Contains a fae prince that will make you want to search your garden for faeries.
Tracey H. Kitts
USA Today and New York Times Best Selling Author I write paranormal, sci-fi, and fantasy romance. I have wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember. I write what I enjoy in the hopes that others will enjoy it as well. I've always been drawn to the macabre. Vampires, werewolves, you name it. I've never written about the paranormal because it's popular. I do it because that's what I'm interested in. If the vampire fad ever passes, I'll still be sitting here in my Dracula cape, getting my fang on. I write erotic horror under the name T.K. Hardin.
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Bloodlines - Tracey H. Kitts
Chapter One
When night falls and the moon is full, the hunt calls to me. I stretched my arms forward and they hit the ground as paws. I relish the freedom that comes from being a wolf, I always have.
I remember how crisp the air was, how cool and fresh it felt as it ran its icy fingers through my fur. I had no idea what was coming my way. There would be a man, a mystery, and lots of danger. And all before the next full moon. Perhaps the Universe knew how much I needed a good run and let me have it without one slight hint of what was in store. Wasn’t that nice of the Powers That Be, for a change?
Cool wet grass crunched beneath my paws as I ran through the woods near my home. I could hear bats fluttering through the trees and small animals scurrying out of the way as I passed. I paused for a moment near the creek. The water was cold and felt wonderful against my tongue, the perfect way to end a good run. My head snapped sharply to the right as I picked up the sound of dried twigs cracking under pressure. Something was walking my way.
I scented the air. Deer. My stomach churned painfully and I realized I was starving. But I wouldn’t eat the deer. I would wait until I was human again and have breakfast like a normal person. It’s not that I can’t or haven’t killed animals before, I’d just rather not. Taking a life because I’m hungry, when I’ve got perfectly good bagels waiting on me, seemed like such a waste. I love to hunt, to track, and especially chase other animals, but I take no pleasure in killing.
I had just turned in the direction of town when I heard a yelp of pain from the deer followed by brutal tearing sounds. I ran through the brush to discover a large brown wolf ravaging what was left of a beautiful stag.
I growled and snapped my disapproval.
Blake. I’d know that scent anywhere. He smelled of smoke, leather, and (miraculously in wolf form) aftershave. The wind must have changed direction, preventing me from noticing his smell earlier.
If he was here, the rest of the pack wasn’t far behind. After all, he was their alpha and tonight was the full moon. I sniffed the air again and as the wind changed I caught the scent of dozens of other werewolves.
He looked up at me, his muzzle covered with gore, and smiled. Yes, werewolves can smile and no it is not pleasant. I almost shifted back to human form, just to give him the finger.
There was a subtle change in the air as night began to turn to day. I looked up at the sky beginning to change colors and realized that I’d lost track of time. I’d been running for hours. That’s not unusual for me. When I shift I get lost for a little while. I think we all need that sometimes. This is also the reason I keep a change of clothes and a spare key at my shop. If I was going to open up on time, I needed to hurry.
I turned from Blake and his gruesome meal and ran hard toward town. Lupine Creek sits in the middle of a pine forest. It’s a little off the beaten path, but not so far off that local businesses, like mine, can’t survive. It’s described in travel brochures as a quaint escape.
Dawn broke over the landscape as I topped the hill overlooking Lupine Creek. A few people might notice a large red wolf running through town, but everyone would definitely notice a naked woman. I stayed hidden as much as possible before reaching the back of my coffee shop, Howling Grounds. I shifted quickly and removed the spare key from behind the loose brick where I’d stashed it.
The air conditioning was cold against my skin, especially considering how sweaty I was from my run.
Late night?
I jumped so hard that I dropped the key and nearly fell over a rack of coffee mugs.
Sunny,
I growled at my best friend. You nearly scared the life out of me.
Hey, it was the peak of the full moon. I figured you’d be out for a run, so I got all the goodies baking.
I put a hand over my still racing heart and breathed a sigh of relief. Thank you.
She smiled as she readjusted her curly blond ponytail. No prob. You might want to cover your tits before customers show up though.
Yeah,
I laughed. I’m on it.
I dashed past the front counter, grateful that the sidewalk appeared to be empty. At least it would be more difficult for anyone to see inside without all of our lights on.
Did you at least get in a good run?
she asked.
As a human I hated to run, but I couldn’t get enough of it as a wolf. That could be because as a human I had to worry about restraining my DD cup breasts. The rest of me is relatively small, and I’ve always felt disproportionate.
It was great,
I called as I walked in my office. Except I ran into Blake.
Are you sure he’s not an option? I mean, not even for sex?
Sunny yelled down the hall.
Sunny isn’t a werewolf, but she’s known me my whole life and knows pretty much everything about me. She’s the kind of friend that you can’t hold anything back from, not that I’d ever tried. No one else knows what I’ve shared with her, especially not Blake. If the other werewolves knew Sunny was in on their secret, it could be very bad news for her. Most of them are not listed on the Lycan Registry, that lovely public list that lets all your neighbors know if you’re a werewolf. By law, they were supposed to register themselves as a living biological weapon. That’s what was decided shortly after werewolves went public. Yet of the roughly one hundred pack members in Lupine Creek, only about twenty had bothered. Why? Because they didn’t think it applied to them. You see, the werewolves in the local pack weren’t turned as a result of the lycanthropy virus. They are lup sânge, like me. Lup sânge is Romanian for blood wolf,
and is the term we use to describe someone who is born a werewolf.
Those of us born werewolves