Shifter Alpha Claim 1-6 Omnibus by Tamara Rose Blodgett, Marata Eros Page A
Authors: Tamara Rose Blodgett, Marata Eros
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constructed of Mutables; a group of shifters that can change into virtually any animal. They too, have a limited female population.
Talyn doesn't care. She refuses to become the Lycan Merck and Arden insist she'll become, though her beast is clawing to escape.
But a revelation about her lineage makes becoming a Lycan a surety, rather than a choice. The question that haunts Talyn is: who will transition her? Friend, foe—or lover?
1
Talyn
This is my life.
Yup.
Fighting among supernaturals while they devastate my house.
Check.
Pooky MIA.
Check.
Swollen female bits making me absolutely crazy.
Double check.
A roar fills my ears and I want to flinch, but no part of my body moves. I'm languid, as my house is coming down around me.
Plaster dust fills the air in a cloud and I cough.
Blood splatter flies over my head as it dots the ceiling above my head like paint thrown from a can.
I try to come to myself but I'm numb.
All I remember is Merck's teeth in my shoulder—Arden's hands on my breasts.
Paws.
I giggle, and on some level I understand I've moved into hysteria. Any woman would be after what I've been through in the last day.
Tonight I found out I'm sort of a werewolf. And a human. And a counselor.
Like a tootsie roll with a gooey yummy center.
I bark out a laugh and get a case of the hiccups for my trouble.
Pooky sprints into the room, hopping onto my chest. My breath whooshes out of me and I'm fighting.
Fighting for my sanity.
Fighting the new instincts that rise like vapor from a boiling pot deep within me.
A raspy tongue runs over my nose. Golden-green eyes blink raptly into my own.
I wake as though from a dream.
Growls, and a horribly wet sounding, rubberband-like snapping has me sitting up in my bed squinting into the haze of dust and debris.
My nipples tingle, my crotch feels like a soaked donut.
I need to get out of here.
Fur flashes in my peripheral vision and Pooky lets out a squalling meow that lets me know she's ready to vacate.
I scoop my cat, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed and eye the window.
I stand carefully, inching along the narrow space between my bed and the wall that holds the window, praying that all the shapeshifting zoo behind me is too busy to notice their prey is making a getaway.
Half-changed bodies blur in my periphery, talons slashing into torsos with mottled hair and shredded flesh.
I gulp back my fear.
I turn my back on the melee, flipping the latch and open the double-hung window. It slides up and I punch the screen out.
Pooky accidentally claws me as she escapes through the hole I just made.
Thank God— she's safe.
I don't bother to wipe the blood from my arm, scooting through the opening in the brittle screening.
A hand latches around my ankle and I kick back with everything I have.
I connect and a howl erupts, the grip vanishing.
The urge to pee suddenly burns. I scoot out, tumbling into the shrubbery. Thorns embed themselves and I wince, thrashing my way out.
Scrambling out of the bushes, I lurch forward. Sighting the fence, I race for the six foot tall slats of wood like shadowed soldiers bordering my property.
I never even consider the gate. I grab the rough wood and hook my toe on the cross member, ungracefully heaving myself up and over. The fence groans at the abuse but holds.
Unfortunately, I don't fly over the top, I fall—the sidewalk rushing to greet me.
But strong arms find me instead.
Jamie Duncan gazes down on me with a look that cannot be classified as anything but triumphant.
“Gotcha,” he says softly.
A beat of time thumps between us then I'm smashing my elbow into his nose.
He drops me, and I crab walk on my hands and knees.
Can this get any worse? Whacko stalker happens to be outside my house while the shapeshifting zoo beats the beejezus out of each other?
I can't make this shit up.
I flip over and begin to stand. His foot plows into my ass and I fly forward, chin hitting the cement in the
Talyn doesn't care. She refuses to become the Lycan Merck and Arden insist she'll become, though her beast is clawing to escape.
But a revelation about her lineage makes becoming a Lycan a surety, rather than a choice. The question that haunts Talyn is: who will transition her? Friend, foe—or lover?
1
Talyn
This is my life.
Yup.
Fighting among supernaturals while they devastate my house.
Check.
Pooky MIA.
Check.
Swollen female bits making me absolutely crazy.
Double check.
A roar fills my ears and I want to flinch, but no part of my body moves. I'm languid, as my house is coming down around me.
Plaster dust fills the air in a cloud and I cough.
Blood splatter flies over my head as it dots the ceiling above my head like paint thrown from a can.
I try to come to myself but I'm numb.
All I remember is Merck's teeth in my shoulder—Arden's hands on my breasts.
Paws.
I giggle, and on some level I understand I've moved into hysteria. Any woman would be after what I've been through in the last day.
Tonight I found out I'm sort of a werewolf. And a human. And a counselor.
Like a tootsie roll with a gooey yummy center.
I bark out a laugh and get a case of the hiccups for my trouble.
Pooky sprints into the room, hopping onto my chest. My breath whooshes out of me and I'm fighting.
Fighting for my sanity.
Fighting the new instincts that rise like vapor from a boiling pot deep within me.
A raspy tongue runs over my nose. Golden-green eyes blink raptly into my own.
I wake as though from a dream.
Growls, and a horribly wet sounding, rubberband-like snapping has me sitting up in my bed squinting into the haze of dust and debris.
My nipples tingle, my crotch feels like a soaked donut.
I need to get out of here.
Fur flashes in my peripheral vision and Pooky lets out a squalling meow that lets me know she's ready to vacate.
I scoop my cat, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed and eye the window.
I stand carefully, inching along the narrow space between my bed and the wall that holds the window, praying that all the shapeshifting zoo behind me is too busy to notice their prey is making a getaway.
Half-changed bodies blur in my periphery, talons slashing into torsos with mottled hair and shredded flesh.
I gulp back my fear.
I turn my back on the melee, flipping the latch and open the double-hung window. It slides up and I punch the screen out.
Pooky accidentally claws me as she escapes through the hole I just made.
Thank God— she's safe.
I don't bother to wipe the blood from my arm, scooting through the opening in the brittle screening.
A hand latches around my ankle and I kick back with everything I have.
I connect and a howl erupts, the grip vanishing.
The urge to pee suddenly burns. I scoot out, tumbling into the shrubbery. Thorns embed themselves and I wince, thrashing my way out.
Scrambling out of the bushes, I lurch forward. Sighting the fence, I race for the six foot tall slats of wood like shadowed soldiers bordering my property.
I never even consider the gate. I grab the rough wood and hook my toe on the cross member, ungracefully heaving myself up and over. The fence groans at the abuse but holds.
Unfortunately, I don't fly over the top, I fall—the sidewalk rushing to greet me.
But strong arms find me instead.
Jamie Duncan gazes down on me with a look that cannot be classified as anything but triumphant.
“Gotcha,” he says softly.
A beat of time thumps between us then I'm smashing my elbow into his nose.
He drops me, and I crab walk on my hands and knees.
Can this get any worse? Whacko stalker happens to be outside my house while the shapeshifting zoo beats the beejezus out of each other?
I can't make this shit up.
I flip over and begin to stand. His foot plows into my ass and I fly forward, chin hitting the cement in the
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