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Authors: Tara Lain

Winter’s Wolf

BOOK: Winter’s Wolf
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Readers love the Tales of the Harker Pack series by
T
ARA
L
AIN

The Pack or the Panther

“What I really loved about this story is the personality… I don’t know how to convey that this book has a life of its own; one that kept me guessing where it was all going to lead.”

—The Blogger Girls

“I really enjoyed reading this fantastic tale… If you want an exciting way to spend a few hours, then you need to give this book a try.”

—Mrs. Condit & Friends Read Books

“Smooth, nicely-paced storytelling and two very sexy shifters made the story a totally engaging read.”

—The Romance Studio

Wolf in Gucci Loafers

“Ms. Lain writes a wonderful story and this one was beautiful and I absolutely recommend it to fans of MM romances.”

—For the Love of Bookends

“The sex sizzles, the tension crackles and the plot snaps! I read it all in one sitting… That Tara sure knows just how to tickle the taste buds with her beautiful boys!!”

—Sinfully Sexy Books

“This was another great story in the Harker Pack series. The author has created an interesting world with characters and stories that will draw you in and keep you coming back for more!”

—Guilty Indulgence

By
T
ARA
L
AIN

L
ONG
P
ASS
C
HRONICLES

Outing the Quarterback

Canning the Center

T
ALES
OF
THE
H
ARKER
P
ACK

The Pack or the Panther

Wolf in Gucci Loafers

The Pack or the Panther & Wolf in Gucci Loafers (Series Anthology)

Winter’s Wolf

Published By
D
REAMSPINNER
P
RESS

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

Copyright

Published by

D
REAMSPINNER
P
RESS

5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886  USA

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Winter’s Wolf

© 2015 Tara Lain.

Cover Art

© 2015 Aaron Anderson.

[email protected].

Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. 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 the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/.

ISBN: 978-1-63216-543-5

Digital ISBN: 978-1-63216-544-2

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014920678

First Edition February 2015

Printed in the United States of America

This paper meets the requirements of

ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 (Permanence of Paper).

To Monica Stoner for all her help in naming this book—and all her wonderful support. Thank you!

Prologue

 

B
LOOD
.

The white wolf stopped and stared into the dense undergrowth of the Connecticut forest.
Not home. New
. He sniffed the air. Slowly he looked over his shoulder, ice blue eyes gleaming.
Eat.
He turned and trotted a few steps toward the smell.

Stop. Man. Hu-man.

The voices wafted toward him, not as strong as the smell.

“Shit, man, I didn’t sign on for murder.”

“You didn’t murder anybody. Cut me a break.”

“Might as well have. I’m out.”

“We’re supposed to wait until someone comes and gets him.”

“Wait if you want. Not me. I’m gone.” Shuffling. Rustling. Steps.

The wolf crept forward, stomach near the ground.

More steps. Pacing. “Shit, man. Shit.” Steps. “Oh shit.” Leaves thrashed and boots hit hard against the earth.

Quiet.

Blood. Blood good.

Eat.

He crept forward, peering through the bushes.

Step by soft step, he emerged from the undergrowth into the clearing, his eyes taking in every twig, leaf, and drop of blood. The good-smelling body lay in a heap on the ground.
Dead.
He stalked forward and nudged an arm with his nose.
Good smell.
His tongue snaked out and licked the skin.
Hu-man.
A soft whimper vibrated his chest.
No eat. Father say no.
He lay in the loamy soil beside the body and covered his nose with his paws.
Hungry. Eat.

A bush rustled a field away, and his big, pure white head snapped up.
Prey. Food?

Twigs snapped. He hunched up and propelled himself forward in a low crawl, stomach near the ground. Sniffing the breeze, he adjusted his position, running low to the other side of the clearing.
Better wind.
He sniffed again.
Deer. Good. Food.
Standing behind a trunk, he watched the brown doe pass through an opening between trees.

He glanced around to be sure the bushes concealed his position. Perfect for cover in the snow, his shining white fur stood out against the green, but his prey was engrossed.
Stay. Stay.
His haunches trembled in anticipation.

She sashayed a few steps forward and he leaped, uncoiling his huge body in the air, twisting and lunging up to grasp his teeth around her neck and bite. Blood spurted into his mouth with an ecstatic heat, and he forced himself to keep his jaws locked and not give in to the desire to feed. The doe faltered, buckled, and fell beneath the weight of his body and the weakness of draining blood.

Food. Good. Share.

Chapter 1

 

B
LOOD
.

Winter Thane ran his tongue along the underside of the skin he’d pulled from the deer and then licked his own crimson fingers. The sharp taste of iron mingled with the sweetness in his mouth, while the smell of cooking venison filled his nostrils. A rivulet of blood dripped from the skin, and he caught it on his outstretched tongue.
Good.

“Winter.”

He jumped. “Yes, Father.”

“Eat the cooked food, not the raw. You know that. You don’t want the pack to think you’re an animal.” His father smiled to soften the reproach, but still.

“Urrr.”

“Winter!”

Alpha tone.
Winter’s head hit the dirt. “Yes, sir.” His father wasn’t an alpha, since alphas were chosen, not born, and the two of them lived packless, just the way Winter liked it. Still, the power and skill of Damon Thane would make him alpha in most packs.

Winter took the knife from his belt, hacked at the venison suspended over the fire, and slopped some half-cooked meat onto a paper plate. He poked the food with a couple of fingers, then stuck them in his mouth.

BOOK: Winter’s Wolf
11.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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