Donovan (The Shifters of Eagle Creek Book 1) Page 5

Swiveling back around to face me, the guy continued. “Well, Mariah, you’re right. At least you were until Proposition 130 passed last week.”

  “Prop 130?” Donovan asked. To me, it sounded like he’d heard of it.

  “Yes. The official government approval to round you all up. Everyone must belong to a group and that group must be registered as such. No more rogues.” He smiled like the cat that ate the canary and I wanted to knock that look off his face.

  “Well, sir,” Max stepped ahead of me. “We are not a group. We have each registered as unaffiliated.”

  “True. But now that has to change.”

  “Or what?” I asked.

  “Or you get arrested. And with the way things are going right now, it will probably be several years before you’d get a trial.” The smug look returned.

  “Are you threatening us?” Rhys asked, a growl at the tip of his tongue.

  “No. I’m giving you forty-eight hours to figure out what you want to call this…this establishment and give me a list of names to register.”

  “This is absurd,” Donovan said.

  “I’m sorry fellows, but it’s the law.” The state trooper genuinely looked upset. I wondered if he knew Sutton, Calvin’s mate and a trooper in the Homer area down south. If he did, then he’d have some understanding of how embarrassing it was to have the government always have to know where you lived and worked.

  “We live here on our own free will because we aren’t pack. None of us want to be affiliated. Why is this such an issue?” I didn’t like the way Donovan’s voice started to tremble—not with fear, but with anger.

  “Because too many shifters have been fighting and too many humans have been injured in the process.” It sounded rehearsed. And untrue.

  “Give us an example,” I said.

  “No.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Rhys had started to pace like an anxious or angry dog. His hand rubbed the back of his neck over and over, a sure sign that he was struggling to hold his wolf at bay.

  “The citizens of the United States voted for their representatives and those representatives just made Prop 130 legal.” The Homeland Security man turned on his heel and called out over his shoulder, “You have forty-eight hours.” The three of them climbed into a black SUV and all of the state park employees drove away with them. A handful of troopers lagged behind, including the man who originally talked to us.

  “I am sorry,” he said again.

  “You know this is discrimination, right?” I snapped.

  He nodded. “But now it’s legal discrimination.” Glancing around the woods, where he must have sensed the others, he shrugged. “Look, is it really that big of a deal to form a group or a…crew or whatever?”

  “Yes!” we all shouted together.

  “Why?” I could tell by his voice that his question was sincere.

  Donovan cleared his throat. “You have a hierarchy within the police department, right?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Well, so do we. There are alphas and betas and enforcers—”

  “Enforcers?”

  “Not important. What is important is that packs and prides have structure. It’s an organized hierarchy that none of us want to deal with. It’s the very reason we’re all unaffiliated in the first place.”

  Impressed with the way Donovan was speaking, I wrapped my arm around his waist and held on tight. He laid his over my shoulder as we watched the trooper digest all of that information.

  “Well,” he said as he readjusted his hat, “then I am real sorry for this. But I have no choice. We will be forced to check back with you in two days.”

  With that, he got in his car and the three remaining vehicles disappeared into the night. We stood still, watching and digesting ourselves.

  “Maybe it could work,” I suggested.

  “We would need an alpha,” Rhys mused. “And a beta and probably a handful of enforcers.”

  “We’re not doing this,” snapped Donovan.

  Max kicked the ground. “I agree.”

  The raven called out again. “Who is that?” I asked the air.

  “I don’t care and I don’t want to know,” Max groaned. “I need to run. And kill something.” Stripping out of his clothes, the black panther burst from his skin and he took off into the woods. I swear I saw that raven following him.

  “Should we talk to the others?” I wasn’t sure why I’d asked, but I felt like something had to be done tonight.

  “Maybe?” Rhys said. He turned toward Donovan. “I’d vote you for alpha.”

  Donovan growled at him. Like a real growl with bad meaning. “Don’t even fucking joke.”

  Rhys laughed and collected Max’s clothes. “I’m heading back. We should gather everyone and let them know what’s going on with Prop 130 though.”

  “Fine,” Donovan grumbled. “But that’s it.”

  “Yeah, that’s it.” Rhys winked at me as he jogged past us and I wondered what he had up his sleeve.

  Glancing at Donovan, I hated the way his forehead wrinkled with stress. “It will be all right. We’ll figure something out.”

  He shook his head, but grabbed my hand, and we started the journey back to the Eagle Creek camp in a comfortable silence.

  Holding Mariah’s hand kept me calm. And right now, I needed to stay calm because my insides were freaking out. I didn’t want to be a part of a pack or a crew. I didn’t want to deal with the politics that implied. And I sure as hell didn’t want to be a fucking alpha.

  While the rest of the shifters dissipated into the woods, Mariah and I walked slowly back down the dirt road that would lead to our camp. I needed time to think, and by the way Mariah stayed silent, I imagined she was feeling the same. Ever since escaping from my prison five years ago, I’d been trying to get my life in order. My lion was wild and volatile and still trying to figure out his place in the world. As was the human side of me. Abused, used, and forced to fight—I didn’t know how to be part of a functioning group.

  “Will you stay?” Mariah asked suddenly, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “Here?”

  “Yes. If it becomes an organized crew?” Her voice trembled with something I couldn’t quite place.

  “I…I don’t know. I mean, everything is fine the way it is right now. I don’t see why it has to change.”

  “Have you ever been a part of a pride?”

  “No.”

  “Well, to play devil’s advocate for a moment, being in an organized group of shifters does have its benefits. Our animals need it.” She said that last part softly, as though she was afraid to admit it to herself.

  We approached my spot on the hill overlooking the camp and I pulled her to a stop. Tugging her against me, I sighed as I rested my chin on her head. “Look at this place, Mariah. It’s a dump.” The center gathering area was full of mud as winter started to melt. Too many transient shifters had set up make-shift camps so it looked like we were hosting some kind of concert. As I watched, three different scuffles broke out and several humans started shifting into their animals. “And it’s a fucking mess,” I grumbled.

  “They need order,” she said.

  “You sound like Max.”

  “Well, Max is right. Our kind thrives on hierarchy and organization—even if we don’t like to admit it.”

  “I don’t want to be alpha,” I groaned.

  “Why?”

  Her question threw me for a loop and I didn’t know why at first. “Because I don’t.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  I looked down to find her smiling back up at me. “What?”

  “Do you even know how dominant you are? My coyote has been submitting to you since we first met a few months ago. And she doesn’t like to submit.” Mariah rubbed her breasts against my chest as a tease.

  With a chuckle, I squeezed her ass. “Yes, I’ve learned this.”

  “How do they establish alphas in a pride?”

  “I don’t know.
I’ve never been in one.” My stomach churned with guilt and anger and frustration over admitting that to someone.

  “Well, most shifters have to fight for dominance. And with the way all of you like to fight, we might be up for some entertaining challenges.”

  I sucked in a breath. “I will not fight.”

  “Donovan,” she whispered, “this is different.”

  “Not to me.”

  Mariah must have sensed my discomfort because she pulled away and walked toward the edge of the hill. With her hands on her hips, she surveyed the camp below. “This could be really great.”

  “It would be disastrous.” I walked up behind her and rested my hands on her waist. I simply couldn’t stop touching her—a totally new feeling for me but one I was already comfortable with.

  She pointed to the mud pit in the middle. “That’s where the pavilion could go.”

  “Pavilion?”

  “Yeah, for the weekly cookouts. If we built it up on a platform we wouldn’t have to worry about the water anymore. And over there,” she gestured to the area we she’d set up her tent, “there’s room there for a couple of small cabins.”

  “No more cabins,” I mumbled.

  “Stop.” She hit me in the chest. “Wait, who owns this land?”

  “Rhys does.”

  “Wow. And how many acres?”

  I shrugged. “I think he only owns ten or so, but somehow the state land all around us seem to belong to him too.”

  “Interesting. So, we could definitely build some cabins.” She giggled and nudged my shoulder. “I suggest the three of you go talk to everyone down there and tell them what’s going on. I can organize a sign-up for challenges.”

  “Mariah, I don’t think—” She stopped my protest with a kiss. A warm, passionate kiss that she knew would be a perfect distraction.

  “Shh,” she whispered. “You just need to relax now.” Dropping her hands from my face, she tugged on the hem of my jeans. When I moaned beneath her touch, she unzipped the fly and wrapped her hand around my already hard cock. “Just relax, Donovan.”

  “Woman…” I warned with a grin. “There is no way in hell I can relax when you touch me like that.”

  With a giggle, she started to stroke. “You can have it all, you know. Me, your friends, a home. You deserve it.”

  This time I was the one smothering her mouth to get her to stop talking. I didn’t want to think about Eagle Creek and what it could or couldn’t be anymore. Right now, I just wanted to think about the smoking hot chic in front of me stroking my dick and smelling like the best thing in the world. My lion surged to the surface and growled a hungry sound. Mariah tensed beneath my lips, but I held on to her tight. He wanted to say something. To do something. But I didn’t quite understand him.

  “What was that?” Mariah breathed.

  “What?”

  “Your lion. He just did something to me…” I glanced down at her only to see her smiling. “Bite me,” she pleaded.

  “What? No! I can’t—”

  “Claim me as your own. He wants it, I can feel it.”

  “But…is that how it works? I have to bite you?” My heart pounded as I tried to process all of this.

  With a smile, Mariah placed her hand on my chest directly over my heart. “Not usually for coyotes, but I think it is for lions. It’s like he’s talking to my animal. Asking her to be his.”

  “I...I don’t know what to do.”

  “Bite me.”

  The gravelly tone of her voice egged me on. How could I resist such a request from this woman? My lion roared and itched under the surface of my skin. He wanted her so bad. I wanted her. Forever. I wanted Mariah to be mine forever.

  Mariah squeezed my swollen cock and slipped my jeans over my hips. Not caring if any of the other shifters were lurking nearby, I carefully lowered us to the ground. Mariah shimmied out of her pants while my mouth worked her nipples. Her moans turned me on even more and by the time I was ready to push inside of her, she was panting like the little minx she was. I sucked on her swollen breast, so full and plump and magnificent. Her lips parted in ecstasy the moment my fingers flicked her clit.

  “You’re so wet, and so hot. Jesus woman, you’re changing me.”

  She giggled and moaned at the same time. “I’m not changing you, Donovan. I’m just helping you discover who you really are.” Tugging on my dick, she tried to push it into her opening. But I held out.

  “Not yet, little coyote.” Sliding my lips down her ribs, her stomach, and then her hips, I grabbed her ass and lifted her sex close to my face. She smelled magnificent and my lion clawed inside again. He wanted to taste her. To have her scent all over him. I couldn’t deny him that and I quickly dove in between her folds. She writhed beneath me, moaning and giggling and enjoying every inch of my touch.

  Her moisture dampened my nose as I plunged my tongue up and down her sex. Each time I went up, I was sure to pay a little attention to her clit, but I could also sense that each time I touched it, she was getting closer and closer to release. Her hands dug into my head as she pushed me against her folds. Growling with delight, both the me and the lion immersed ourselves into Mariah. We tasted her. We pleasured her. And when she was on the verge of orgasm, we pushed inside of her.

  My dick throbbed with the feel of her pulses. She wrapped her legs around my back while she cried out in pleasure and each time I pounded into her, she called out my name. The feeling egged me on…like I simply couldn’t stand not to be inside of her. Muscles tightened, both around my back and around my cock. Her sex squeezed me as though she owned me. She did control me—through and through I’d been dominated by this woman since the first time I’d laid eyes on her.

  “Mariah,” I breathed. “I want you so fucking bad.”

  She pulled my head down next to hers. “Then take me. Claim me, Donovan. Do it now!”

  Guiding my hips to plunge into her faster and faster, the sound of our skin slapping together echoed through the forest. With each hit, she whimpered in delight. Mariah Stillwater liked rough sex and that was something no woman had ever been able to match with my lion before.

  “Bite me,” she pleaded.

  “I—”

  “Bite me, Donovan. Fucking claim me, Now!” She screamed into the air as a second orgasm rocked through her.

  And that was when I let the lion have control. We sank our teeth into the soft spot on the top of her left breast. Her skin gave instantly and I tasted the metallic warmth of blood. She tensed under my touch but then relaxed when she let the orgasm have her. My own cock throbbed with anticipation and when I bit her for the second time, I exploded from the inside out. The combination of blood, sex, and those little noises Mariah liked to make had done me in. Not only had I claimed my mate, but I knew, for certain, that I was in love with the woman beneath me.

  As I shot the last of my seed into her, I collapsed against her chest. Feeling the warm liquid above her breast rub against my own, I had to stop my lion from lapping it up. Instead, I just lay there, satisfied and…happy for the first time in my life.

  “Thank you,” Mariah whispered as she stroked her fingers over my back.

  “For what?” I swiveled my head to look up at her and saw the tears in her eyes.

  “For making me feel like I belong somewhere. I know this seems fast, but Donovan…I love you.”

  “Well, you better, because I just made you mine forever.”

  She giggled when I tapped her nose with my finger. “You did, didn’t you.”

  I touched the two crescent-shaped bite marks and she flinched. “Does it hurt?” I instantly wanted to beat myself up for causing her any kind of pain. But she grabbed my face and turned me so I was looking at her again.

  “It’s perfect,” she whispered.

  “I love you, Mariah.”

  “Good,” she teased. “Because that scar there, that means you’re stuck with me.”

  I rolled onto my back, pulling her on top of me. She squealed a
nd laughed and then sat up. I was still inside, and although my erection had started to dissipate, that movement excited me all over again. Mariah squeezed her sex and licked her lips.

  “I feel you,” she smirked.

  “You’re going to feel me a lot.”

  Wiggling her brows, she brushed her fingers over the already-healing bite marks. “I think I’m okay with that.” Then, looking down at me with a serious face, she added, “And we’re going to make this place our home.”

  “I think I’m okay with that,” I repeated her words. And as I started to caress her perfect skin and taught body again, knowing what was coming, I felt at peace with the idea of calling Eagle Creek our home.

  I knew what I needed to do. Finally, I felt like I had a purpose in life. At least a temporary one.

  It’d been thirty-six hours since the government had shown up at Eagle Creek and threatened to arrest us if we didn’t organize into some type of crew. Rhys, Max, and Donovan had explained to the twenty or so shifters at camp that something needed to be done, and the response had been surprisingly positive. Most of them were still here today and almost everyone wanted a chance to fight for alpha.

  “How many do you have?” Rhys asked me.

  I’d been running around with my clipboard creating a bracket for the challenges. I based the pairings on the type of shifter, age, gender, and overall vibe I got from them. Not the most scientific way to approach the event, but then again, this was new to all of us. “Fifteen so far.”

  “Shit.” Rhys pushed his hair out of his face and jerked his chin toward the people screwing a bunch of two by fours together in the center of camp. “What’s that?”

  “The ring. Except it’s square because, well, it’s made out of wood.”

  “Where the fighting will take place?” When I nodded, he continued. “Where’d the wood come from?”

  “Justin, Jo, and Sharon all work at the mill in the next town over. They said it was scrap wood so I told them to have at it.” Looking at the designated fighting area had me smiling. Not because of what was going to happen there, but because everyone in camp had been working together so well.

  “Who?” Rhys sighed, as though he couldn’t be bothered.