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Cowboy Bikers MC: Werewolves Page 2


  “Respect is earned, not given. You disrespected me first, asshole,” she snaps and I hate to say it, but she’s right.

  Yet, she still disrespected me in front of my men.

  “Ash, take Bevin into the basement and keep him there. The rest of you, get to work.”

  My men follow my orders and within a few breaths it’s only me and Opal standing before the bar. I let go of her throat and step back.

  “Follow me.” I don’t wait but head around the bar in the direction of my cabin, leaving the choice up to her.

  Though my fingers are itching to drag her off to my cabin and show her every corner my cock can take her in. But first we need to clear the air between us.

  CHAPTER TWO

  – OPAL –

  What an ass. And I mean it in every way. Sexy but a complete asshole biker. I should have known. I’ve always been told werewolves were a different, hardheaded breed. And those who are bitten instead of born are trouble with a capital T.

  When I found Tobias halfway down the road, sagged into a crumbled mess of hurt, something inside me snapped. I could smell werewolf on him but I had to make sure Tobias was okay before I hunted down the one responsible.

  Figor holds the door open for me and I stroll inside his cabin. When I glance over my shoulder, I feel his eyes slide over my body, reminding me of his words earlier; show me the sexy. He wanted me to shift into guardian form; a large white wolf.

  I bet for a werewolf it’s appealing to see another supernatural woman shift into a wolf, but the truth is, I can’t. My father might be a hellhound, who can also shift into a large wolf, but my mother is half guardian, part human, and part witch.

  And DNA is a funny thing when creating offspring; it rearranges with each child. I guess I got a twist of everything but most were undeveloped after my parents had all my siblings. I’m the youngest, the odd one out. I have four brothers–who mostly have the hellhounds appearance–and three sisters of which two are guardians and one the appearance of a hellhound. All of them have a dash of witch, but their magic is underdeveloped.

  I’m the complete opposite. The hellhound part inside me? Nonexistent. And it’s as if my guardian side is asleep while the witch part is where my strength lies. I don’t mean physical strength; I do have extraordinary strength. I should be thankful for that part, otherwise my parents would have never let me live on my own like a normal human being.

  Or maybe they would have anyway because they were tired of my repeated begging for a horse. I love them, and it was the first thing I did after I bought the trailer where I live; buy an Arabian horse. I spend every second of my free time with her. And when I have to work, Tobias is sweet enough to keep an eye on her.

  Which brings me back to the fact that Tobias can’t right now since he’s hurt, and the man before me is keeping me from getting justice. I don’t care if it was an accident. And really, how does one beat up another person by accident?

  “Explain,” I snap.

  His eyebrow raises and there are crinkles of enjoyment around his bright blue eyes. “Something to drink? Eat?”

  “I’d like an explanation, hold the ice and no damn straw,” I deadpan.

  Great, his sexy lips turn into a grin and it makes my belly flop. What the hell is wrong with me? I take a deep breath and let my eyes go to the window in an effort to push this man from my thoughts and focus. My gaze hits the most gorgeous horse and I actually gasp from the way it captivates me.

  “Magnificent,” I whisper and step closer to the window.

  I can feel Figor stepping up behind me and I should face him instead of giving him my back but my gut tells me he’s not a threat. It’s weird, I know, but I’ve always been someone who thrives on instincts.

  “Absolutely,” he murmurs close to my ear, pressing his front to my back, allowing his delicious scent to wrap around me.

  My throat runs dry and when I feel his hot breath on my shoulder my body automatically responds by tilting my head to the side as my eyes roll into the back of my head. His lips feather along my neckline until he’s right beside my ear.

  “His beauty isn’t as captivating as yours. Fuck. You smell good,” he growls right before he nips my ear, making a rush of lust slam into me, enough to shake me into awareness.

  I dash around him and when our eyes lock and his nostrils flare, I become aware of my mistake. Due to the turmoil of feelings running through me I was unable to keep my scent cloaked. I always hide my scent so I don’t attract unnecessary attention. It’s because I’m a unique combination of supernaturals due to my parents.

  “Well now, Opal. Or should I say Ophelia, daughter of the president of the Death by Reaper MC, Hellhounds chapter. Now I’m really curious to see what your wolf looks like. Come on, gorgeous, shift for me.”

  “No one, except for my family, calls me Ophelia. It’s Opal. And would you stop with the damn question to shift?” I growl in frustration.

  He steps forward and his fingers wrap around my neck as he leans in to take another deep breath.

  “Here wolfy, wolfy,” he whispers and pulls back to pin me with his gaze. “How long has she been asleep?”

  I give him a hard shove and step away from him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yeah, you do. Your father is right to let you hide your scent. You’re still exposed, put the spell back in place,” he orders.

  I curl my hands into fists and rotate them before I shake my shoulders. It requires some focus for me to tap into my magic and flip a switch–so to say–to put the cloak in place and hide my true identity.

  “Good,” he compliments, and with it completely rubs me the wrong way.

  I can’t help but lash out. “I don’t need your compliment, so shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.”

  “Anyone else aware?” he questions, totally skipping over my growls.

  “No,” I hiss.

  He simply nods and points at the window. “He’s a stallion I’m breaking in, but I’m trying to fully earn his trust first since he’s still a bit skittish around werewolves.”

  My head whips to the gorgeous Arabian stallion and without thinking I blurt, “I have an Arabian mare, eight years old.”

  “Black like mine?”

  I give a little shake of my head and shoot him a grin. “A white one of course.”

  “Of course.” He smirks. “Funny how we both picked the color of our fur. You should bring her over, I presume they’d love to play.”

  “Right.” I roll my eyes. “And I’ll end up with a pregnant mere.”

  His head tips back and he rumbles out a laugh. My eyes feast on his appearance. His wide muscled chest with the leather cut, his scruffy jaw, black hair, and magical bright blue eyes. Every cell in my body is drawn to this man and it scares the shit out of me.

  Piercing blue eyes hit mine and he steps closer. Leaning in he places a kiss on the top of my head and murmurs, “All part of the business we run, babe.”

  He laces his fingers with mine and there’s an instant current zinging through my arm at the contact. His attention is fixed on our joined hands and he clears his throat.

  “Come on,” he croaks. “Let’s talk business while I show you Night.”

  “Night?” A smile spreads my face. “Mine is called Luna.”

  He stops when he’s at the back door. “No shit?”

  “No shit.”

  He gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “See? No denying, Luna belongs to the Night.”

  His heated gaze gives his words more meaning. I need to keep a handle on my emotions; this man can smell and feel every single change and is able to know exactly what I feel. Especially when a woman is aroused. And I can’t even deny the fact this man puts my libido on overdrive.

  His nostrils flare but he quickly turns to take me outside. “A few days ago, we found out a stranger scammed Caz’s father and took five grand from the old man. Bevin thought he saw the stranger. The idiot has had trouble adjusting and jumps into shi
t before thinking. He will receive punishment. We told him the second he admitted what he did. Before you walked into our bar we were about to backtrack his steps to find out what he did because he thought he’d kicked Allen Miles’ ass. But he was drunk and wasn’t so sure when he was sitting at our table with a fucking hangover.”

  Now I’m the one squeezing his hand because I can feel the anger vibrating off him.

  And then his words sink in along with the name that rings a bell. “Wait. Did you say Allen Miles?”

  I regretfully pull my hand from his and reach for my phone. Thumbing through the information I received in an email about the job I’m working on, I let him know, “Allen Miles is an alias for Melvin Parkers.”

  His eyes narrow. “And you know this, how?”

  I roll my eyes at the fact that he turns defensive the second I spill some information. “Bounty hunter by day, fly on a broomstick by night.”

  “Cute,” he rumbles and turns his head in Night’s direction as he whistles a short, sharp tone.

  He instantly trots our way. What a proud stallion. He’s all shiny, tail in the air, nostrils flared, and self-confident. Figor holds his hand in front of him and Night presses his nose against it. Clearly these two have bonded, even if he mentioned he’s working on earning his trust completely.

  “Some might think it’s weird for werewolves to train horses. You know, the wolf part and scaring the horses,” I blurt.

  He gives me an all telling smirk. “Fear is healthy. It’s something we work with and get the animal exposed to many things like being herded by wolves, our bikes, or a combination of both. It’s the very reason we love training them and as a result we sell fearless horses who can handle any task the owner wishes to use the horse for.”

  “Herd them with bikes?” I muse while his horse shoves his nose right into my face, making me giggle and feather my fingers over his head.

  “He likes you,” Figor says, the look in his eyes unreadable.

  “It’s the guardian part, or so I’ve been told when I started riding horses. It’s best explained to see it as a low hum vibrating off me, giving them instant calmness.”

  “When did you start riding?”

  I concentrate on petting his horse while answering his question. “Ever since I could walk. Ugh. I wish. No, I’m exaggerating, but I have been riding for years. All my siblings had the same interest: to work within the supernatural world. And since most had the hellhound right at the surface, they could. Ridding the world of tainted souls and protecting humankind. I found myself lacking and yet still wanted to contribute in some ways. There was this horse thief, who killed the owners and no one was able to track and capture him. I used my laptop and common sense.”

  Figor grins. “And you were able to capture him. Bounty hunter is indeed a perfect job for you. This way you’re still in the same line of work, so to say. Minus the supernatural angle.”

  “Well, sort of.” My cheeks heat, not used to the way a man looks at me the way Figor is glancing at me.

  Pride mixed with appreciation along with a truckload of desire.

  I tear my eyes away from him and concentrate on Night as I continue my story, “My father didn’t trust me for a long time with handling cases myself. I’ve worked hard and trained hard. In return he allowed me to follow my heart and passion. Eventually I got a job as a bounty hunter and bought a trailer I call home and my horse.”

  “Admirable,” he whispers right beside my ear.

  My body involuntarily shivers at the feel of his breath sliding over my skin.

  “What do you know about eternal mates?” he questions.

  I have to blink a few times before staring at him. “Weird shift of topic.”

  He shrugs. “Werewolf, remember? I thrive on getting what I want and I’ve been circling around my prey, looking for the right moment, long enough.”

  “Your body recognizes an eternal mate by instinct, didn’t your parents teach you this?”

  He leans in, our foreheads touching. “My father did, I’m just making sure yours did too so you know what I’m talking about when I say you, Ophelia, are mine.”

  My heart stops before it starts to slam against my rib cage. My lips part and I want to deny, tell him he’s crazy, and yet I have no words.

  He pulls back slightly, places a featherlight kiss on my forehead, and clears his throat before he says, “So, Allen Miles is an alias for Melvin Parkers? Any other information you have on the guy?”

  I’m still processing the whole statement he threw out–about me being his eternal mate–and can’t shuffle topics as fast as he seems to be able to.

  “Would you rather we have something to drink first?” he questions.

  “Could you put a pin in your brain for one freaking moment and let me focus?” I huff. “No, I don’t want something to drink. I came here to get the one responsible for beating up my friend.”

  “Your friend?” he growls as his eyes narrow. “Just a friend? Boyfriend? Husband? Fuckbuddy?”

  “Wow, that escalated quickly. No boyfriend, husband, or fuckbuddy. Tobias lives in a trailer near mine. His mother used to keep an eye on my stuff when I would be out of town for my job. We kinda had a deal where I would keep an eye on her son when she needed to do something or if Tobias needed a friend. He’s like a twelve-year-old living inside a twenty-year-old body. He’s a good person and would never do something which resulted in the beating he took. He’s kind. Absolutely sweet with animals but sometimes misunderstood because you can’t rattle your tongue. You have to be very clear with giving him instructions. But, like I mentioned, a good person, and a great help once he knows exactly what is expected from him.” My shoulders sag. “His mother passed away a few weeks ago. I promised I’d take care of him and look how it turned out.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Figor rumbles as he reaches out and cups the side of my face. “Bevin will make amends. He’s still adjusting. He was brought here a few months ago by Kyst, a vampire acquaintance of ours who has a damn fine stallion we use from time to time. He’s the president of another chapter of our MC. Kyst found Bevin three towns over in a dark alley, bitten by a werewolf. Not knowing what to do with him, Kyst brought Bevin to us. It’s been a struggle to pull him through the transition. He was doing quite well the last few days.”

  “Yeah, super great,” I mutter, sarcasm dripping off those three words.

  “Do you have anything in mind for him to make amends? Besides kicking his ass.”

  I lean my forearms on the fence and watch how Night gracefully dances through the pasture. There’s such beauty and calmness in watching an animal enjoying the freedom and pleasure of an open space and fresh grass.

  A deep sigh rips from my chest. “To be honest. I haven’t exactly thought that far ahead. I wanted to know why anyone would beat up such a kind person who never interferes with anyone. Do you know how hard it is for him to find a job? He needs to be told something simple a few times before he understands, but he does know how to work and is absolutely smart in his own way. Dammit, why did it have to be him? He’s hurt, Figor. Not only physically but why it happened is confusing for him.”

  “Fuck,” Figor grumbles and rubs a hand over his face.

  He leans on the fence next to me. “You mentioned he’s good with animals and how it is hard for him to get a job. What if we offer him a job? I don’t think it’s wise for him to work with the Longhorns, but if he’s good with horses and the work that comes with it, there’s loads of things around here he can do. I’ll make sure he’ll have someone with him at all times to help and explain if he has questions.”

  I can feel a smile spreading my face. “Are you serious? If so, it would be absolutely perfect. He loves working with animals and watches over my horse when I have to leave town for my job.”

  Figor steps back and holds out his hand. “It’s a deal then? We’ll handle Bevin’s punishment and Tobias has a job right here if he wants one.”

  I glance at his hand. “
I will need an update about Bevin because his actions scream an unstable werewolf. You know my upbringing. I might not have a function like my parents or siblings have, but I’ll be damned if I ignore something like this.”

  He gives a tight nod. “Understood. And I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

  I slide my fingers against his palm and grip his hand to give it a slight shake. “Then we have a deal.”

  Spinning on my heel, I chose to rush out of here. The reason I came here has been handled and if all goes well, it will work out perfectly for Tobias. I have to leave; this man is doing crazy things to my body. Things I can’t explain and for sure can’t handle in this moment. Distance it is.

  “I’ll send Tobias your way bright and early.” I throw the words over my shoulder and leave him behind, while taking the whirl of emotions he set loose inside my veins along with me.

  CHAPTER THREE

  – FIGOR –

  “Left,” I mentally snap at Ozzy through our telepathic pack connection.

  Ozzy, Kye, and myself are in wolf form while Ash is on his bike, and Tobias on a horse as we all guide the herd into a new pasture. It’s both exhilarating and necessary to let our wolf out–so to say–from time to time.

  We’re a hot-tempered breed and physically draining your body is a way to blow off steam, preventing anger from building up. It’s also the reason why my pack owns this huge ranch. We work from dusk till dawn, seven days a week without exception.

  And we have an open excuse to run in our wolf form at any given time since no one questions us using a special breed to herd our livestock. Through the ranch we have a legit money flow along with a home, and a set future for every member.

  We’re a tight brotherhood. Loyalty and respect go a long way and it’s what keeps this ranch working around the clock. We might have some members needing a tight leash when it comes to giving them direct orders. Otherwise they occupy the bar, and not to serve drinks, but to consume one after the other. But we make it work.

  I push my paws into the dirt and force my body to move faster. I need the distraction. It’s been five days since I’ve seen Opal. Five days since she showed up early in the morning along with Tobias.