Demon with Wolves (Shadowpeak Wolves Book 3) Read online

  Demon with Wolves

  Shadowpeak Wolves

  Sadie Carter

  Copyright

  Sadie Carter

  Demon with Wolves

  © 2017, Sadie Carter

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  This story contains explicit sex scenes.

  Cover Design: No Sweat Graphics

  Editor: Jillian Bell

  Hi all

  My Shadowpeak Wolves series was written well before my Zerconian Warriors series. This series is lighter on the humor and heavier on the sexiness. I hope you enjoy!

  Sadie

  Xo

  Keep in touch with me!

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  Sadie Carter’s Books

  Zerconian Warriors

  Alien Warrior

  Alien Lover

  Alien Mate

  Sweet Alien Savage

  Alien Savior

  Alien Morsels (Novella)

  Alien Mine

  All I want for Christmas is my Alien (Novella)

  Alien Sacrifice

  An Alien to Die For

  Alien Champion (Coming August 2017)

  Alien Hope (Coming November 2017)

  Joyadan Mates

  Rye

  Shadowpeak Wolves

  Big Wicked Wolf

  Sinfully Sweet Wolf

  Demon with Wolves

  Wolf Protector (Coming September 2017)

  Twice the Wolf (Coming December 2017)

  Prologue

  Held flush against his body, his arm a band of steel around her back, Dusty fused her lips against his. With his free hand, he opened the door. It slammed against the wall. He twirled them into the house, pushing her up against the wall.

  Shivers raced through her body. In one swift, hard move, he pulled off her t-shirt. Her nipples pushed against her cotton bra, demanding to be set free.

  Breathing heavily, Dusty tugged off his shirt, staring hungrily at his muscular chest. Running her hands over his smooth skin, she leaned in and bit first one nipple then the other—arousal coursing through her with his throaty groan.

  “Quickly. I want you,” she demanded. Undoing his jeans, she shoved them over his trim hips. His cock drew her full attention. He was thick and erect, and her mouth watered as she grasped him with one hand.

  He rested his palms on the wall behind her, as though he needed the added support to hold him up while she squeezed his silky shaft.

  Dusty flicked her thumb over the head of his cock before running her fingers up and down again, riveted by the feel of him—hard, hot. He clasped the top of her pants and stripped her. Lifting her, he took off down the passage.

  “Cain,” she protested.

  “Our first time is going to be in a bed,” he explained gruffly, letting her stand once he’d reached the bedroom. Then he was on her again—kissing her, caressing her, driving her insane. Dusty barely noticed her bra and underwear disappearing. Lust had submerged her.

  As he threw her on the bed, his eyes glowed. Her wolf stirred, reacting to his, displaying her interest.

  An interest that wasn’t only sexual.

  Ruthlessly, she shoved the wolf back. Kneeling, she crooked her finger at Cain.

  “Come here,” Dusty ordered huskily. There was no hesitation as he dropped to his knees on the bed before her. He pushed her onto her back, coming over her.

  “Condom,” she gasped.

  He stilled then rolled, opening a drawer beside his bed. Jealousy surged through her as she thought of the other women who’d been in his bed.

  No, Dusty told herself. She didn’t care. This was sex, nothing more.

  Covered, he slipped the head of his wide cock inside her. Tight muscle stretched as he slowly drove forward.

  “Faster,” she gasped.

  “No, too tight.” His voice was strangled.

  Dusty drove her hips up, forcing more of him into her.

  “Dusty, no,” he groaned. “Lie still, you’re too small.”

  “No, I’m not. You’re so damn wide. I won’t break, Cain. Take me. Please. Hard. Fast. Like you know you want to.”

  He thrust in another inch. “Patience, sweetheart, patience.”

  The endearment shouldn’t have warmed her the way it did.

  Bit by bit he entered her, pushing her arousal higher with each small thrust. By the time he was fully immersed they were both panting hard, bodies slick with sweat and hot with need.

  “Now we go fast.”

  And he did. Back and forth, deep, long. Dusty’s nerves were wound tight. The need for release pounded through her.

  “I’m going to come soon,” Cain groaned. “And you’re going to come with me.”

  He hit that spot within her perfectly, driving his cock over it again and again.

  “Now.”

  She exploded.

  * * * * *

  Dusty waited until Cain fell asleep before quietly slipping from his bed. Moving quickly, she grabbed her bra and pulled it on, then looked around for her panties. She’d left the rest of her clothes at the front door, but her panties should have been here. Somewhere.

  “Damn” she swore.

  “They’re on the dresser,” a deep voice told her.

  “Shit.” She looked over at Cain.

  “Running away, Dusty?” he asked, sitting up.

  Her eyes narrowed. “No. I’ve got work to do. I’m taking Laney into the bookstore this morning.”

  He turned and looked out the uncovered window at the black night. “Oh, I’d say you’ve got a bit of time.”

  “Look,” she bit out. “This was nice and all, what we did here. You’re a great fuck, but that’s all it was. A fuck.”

  His arms crossed his chest. Double damn. He was going to be stubborn. She wasn’t exactly known for her easygoing, relaxed disposition. She hadn’t gained the status of enforcer by being a pushover. Dusty took as tough a stance as she could manage when she was mostly naked and met him glare for glare.

  “And what does your wolf say about that?” he asked. “Because I’ll tell you what mine says. That you’re mine. I may not be a betting man, but I’d wager everything I own that your wolf says the same.”

  Dusty shifted nervously before stilling the telling movement. She slammed her wolf into submission, not wanting to hear what the beast was trying to tell her. Had been trying to tell her since the moment Cain had moved to the estate.

  Mine.

  There was no room in her life for a mate. Casual sex, a bit of fun, sure. But she couldn’t do forever. Could she? No. It was a foolish wish. Male werewolves were very possessive. Any hint of danger toward their mate and they went into overprotective mode. They wanted their mates behind them, running from trouble.

  Dusty liked to face it head-on.

  If she let her wolf have her way and mated Cain, then she knew he’d insist she give up being an enforcer. She couldn’t let that part of herself go. If she did, she was afraid there would be nothing left.

  No. She refused to have anything more than a fuck-buddy. She would not be dependent on anyone.


  It’s why she always insisted on a condom. She wasn’t about to risk getting pregnant, or worse, finding her true mate.

  She was really not ready for that kind of commitment.

  “My wolf thinks whatever I tell her to. I’m leaving.” Stalking toward the dresser, she slid her panties on with as much dignity as she could muster. “We can’t do this again.”

  A one-night stand was all she could have. If she let him, he’d work his way into her life.

  Not going to happen.

  He snorted.

  She grabbed the doorknob.

  “Dusty?” he called, and she stopped, cursing herself for her weakness. She longed to jump back into that bed, to touch, to taste and sate herself with his body.

  “Yes?” She didn’t turn around—not wanting to look at him, lying naked in the sex-tousled bed.

  “You can run. You can have your space. But I will be here. Waiting. And you will be back.”

  Not going to happen.

  Chapter One

  Six weeks later

  Dusty Sanders was hiding.

  It was humiliating. She’d always prided herself on being a kick-ass bitch. But since she’d been injured in a bomb blast, she spent more time sneaking around like a rebellious teenager than she did whipping anyone’s ass.

  Although my luck might be changing tonight, she thought as she caught sight of three scruffy bikers leering at her from across the room. The largest one grabbed his crotch and puckered his fat lips up into a kiss. Ick. She resisted the urge to shudder and sent him a withering glare. He laughed. Dumb, very dumb.

  Dusty grabbed her modified walking stick. A quick twist and a nasty blade would appear from its base. Shifting her shoulders, she felt the reassuring blade resting along her back. And she had another knife hidden in her boot. She might have an injured leg, but she wasn’t helpless.

  No matter what her pack might think.

  She’d needed some space from her well-meaning packmates, which was why she was drinking at Samson’s tonight. Samson’s was a rough biker bar on the outskirts of town, not a place her packmates would visit.

  Weeks had slowly ticked by since she’d come home from the hospital and her pack was still treating her with kid gloves. Looks filled with pity, meaningless platitudes, conversations shushed when she passed by—enough was enough.

  And the worst part? The pack didn’t even know how much trouble she was really in.

  She couldn’t change.

  She could sense her wolf—she just couldn’t reach her. It was as if there was a barrier preventing them from merging.

  At first, she hadn’t sensed that anything was wrong. But gradually she’d noticed that she couldn’t access the wolf’s heightened senses or superior strength. Panicked, she’d tried to change, even with a plate in her leg. Inanimate objects didn’t change when they shifted forms, so the plate could do damage to her wolf. Nothing.

  Dusty felt lifeless, dull, half of herself.

  She was practically human.

  And didn’t that bite?

  Slamming her empty glass down, Dusty glared at the vinyl-topped table.

  “Got something against whiskey?” a voice asked.

  Her temper stirred. She was not in the mood for company.

  “No,” she snarled, not bothering to look up. Hopefully, he’d get the picture and piss off.

  Unless he was looking for a fight. Then she might just accommodate him. She needed a way to release some of her pent-up energy. No one in the pack was interested in helping her. Well, no one except Cain. And she wasn’t going near him.

  No way, nuh-uh.

  He was the other reason she was hiding. Being near him was way too much temptation. That one night they’d shared hadn’t been nearly enough.

  His face swam through her mind.

  Shelter. Protection. Heat.

  Arousal washed through her body, filling her with longing. She could leave here, go back to the estate, track him down and jump his bones.

  No. She shook her head. No. Cain needed someone whole, with a lot less baggage. She could have had everything. But she hadn’t been willing to take a chance, to bend a little.

  Although she hated to admit it, she’d been scared.

  That same day she’d left his bed, her life had changed irrevocably when she’d been injured in a bomb blast at Laney’s bookstore. She’d woken up to the realization that she had nothing. No job. No life. No mate. No wolf.

  So here she was, trying to drink herself into oblivion.

  Too bad it wasn’t working.

  “Well then, perhaps you’d allow me to buy you another whiskey, a decent one?”

  She glanced up, fully intending to tell this jerk where he could stick his offer when her gaze hit his face, and she choked on her words.

  He was stunning.

  Soft, wheat-colored hair hung like a halo around his head. Even in the bar’s dim lighting it glimmered, reflecting every glint of light.

  A strong jaw framed his glorious face. Intense eyes, a shade of blue so dark they bordered on black, peered down at her. All other noise in the room faded.

  When Dusty realized she was staring, her jaw hanging low, she quickly slammed her lips together, lowering her gaze to his chest.

  Big mistake.

  Was there nothing about this man that wasn’t sweet, simmering, mouth-watering perfection? And why wasn’t every slut in the bar hanging off him? There were certainly enough of them here.

  “Who are you scowling at?” he asked.

  Dusty’s cheeks heated as she realized she was glaring around the bar, growling quietly at the other women. What the hell is wrong with me?

  “No one,” she muttered. “You getting me that whiskey or not?”

  “But of course, you had only to ask,” he answered.

  She picked up her empty glass and peered inside. Was Samson sticking something in her alcohol? Drugging her? She should tell this bozo to shove off.

  “Isn’t bozo a clown?”

  Dusty jolted as he sat beside her.

  “I’ve done many things in my life, but being a clown is not one. Here,” he switched her empty glass with a full one, “can’t have a pretty lady staring at an empty glass. What kind of gentleman would that make me?”

  “I’m not a lady.”

  “Well good, because I’m not much of a gentleman.” He winked.

  “What do you want? You want to sleep with me? Fine. Keep buying me more whiskey and I’m yours.” Even as the words came out, she was slightly shocked. She hadn’t been attracted to anyone since she’d slept with Cain, hell, since the first day she’d met Cain. So why had she said that? She had no intention of sleeping with this guy, did she?

  “Why, I feel so used. Don’t I deserve dinner and a movie first?”

  His lips twitched as he brushed his hand over her arm. Waves of ice-cold sensation swam along her skin. She gasped. Arousal flooded her body, her senses, her mind. Spots shot through her vision as the walls of her sheath clenched and released.

  “What the hell was that?” Dusty asked breathlessly, snatching her arm back. Aftershocks continued to run through her body as she gaped at him. He looked equally amazed, staring down at his hand as if surprised to see it was attached to his arm.

  “I have no idea,” he murmured.

  “I’ve got to go.” This was too weird. Hot sex she could handle. But mini orgasms from such a casual touch? Crazy.

  “Surely you are not going to run away?”

  She frowned. “I’m not running.”

  “No?” He arched a brow, daring her to stay. Dusty settled back onto her stool. One thing she couldn’t turn down was a dare.

  “More whiskey?”

  “Might as well, long as it’s the good stuff.” She attempted to keep her voice light. What the hell was wrong with her? She rubbed her arm. She could still feel his touch, a cold burn that shocked her nerve endings to life.

  “Of course, my dear.”

  “I’m not your dear,�
� Dusty snarled.

  “Then perhaps you’ll grant me your name.”

  She glared at him.

  Crazy man laughed. “Well, I’ll simply have to come up with a name for you myself.”

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “What would you like it to be?” he teased.

  “Algernon.”

  He looked taken aback, his lips moving but no noise emerging. She almost smiled.

  “Algernon?”

  “Ah-huh, Algernon.” It was the worst name she could think of. She hoped an unattractive name would lessen his appeal. Wishful thinking.

  “Well, all right. Algernon, hmm.”

  Dusty stared at his back as he turned toward the bar. Who the heck was this guy? Not someone out trolling for a quick fuck. If so, there were far easier, more accommodating prey in the bar than she, and let’s face it, with a face and body like his, he could have anyone he wanted—weird shocks and all.

  She frowned when she realized no one was staring at him as he walked across the room. What was going on?

  “Why isn’t anyone looking at you?” she blurted out as he returned, placing a bottle of very expensive whiskey on the table.

  “Why would they be?” He looked around the room.

  “Because… Because… You know…” She swung her arm, indicating his face and body.

  He looked down at himself before raising his hand to touch his cheek. “Do I have something on me?”

  “You know damn well you have nothing on you. You’re drop-dead gorgeous, that’s why.”

  She scowled as he chuckled.

  “Ahh, hellcat, I think you just gave me a compliment. This date is indeed looking up.”

  “Don’t call me hellcat and we’re not on a date. And you know what I’m talking about. These sluts would mount a table leg if it bought them a drink. Why aren’t they all over you?”

  “Perhaps because I haven’t offered to buy them a drink.”

  Yeah, right.

  He was so attractive it took every ounce of self-control she had not to touch him. He’d just crossed the room twice, and not once did the whores populating the bar so much as glance at him. Every woman in this place should be ogling him with lust, and every man should be glaring at him, angry at the attention he was getting. Yet they all acted as if he didn’t even exist.