What the Howl? (Shift Happens Book 1), page 1
What the Howl
Shift Happens
Georgette St. Clair
What the Howl?
Copyright 2023 by Georgette St. Clair
* * *
This book is intended for readers 18 and older only due to adult content. It is a work of fiction. All characters and locations in this book are products of the imagination of the author. No shifters were harmed during the creation of this book.
* * *
License Statement
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Thank you so much for purchasing this book!
I’m now offering amazing sale prices and cool swag over on my website: shop.georgettewrites.com
Contents
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Thank you so much for purchasing this book!
Introduction
Daphne: Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me...on my twenty-fifth birthday, I was hoping for a spa day with my besties. Instead, I get (1) kidnapped, (2) a hot, handsome jailer who claims I’m his “mate”—what even is that? and (3) a pack of new friends and a pack of trouble. Apparently, I’m first prize in a war between two warring packs of shifters, but there’s a sexy-as-sin wolf who swears I’m his—and he’ll burn down the world to keep me.
Killian: The Iron Claw pack wants to lay claim to a curvy half shifter with a mouthful of sass and no idea how much trouble she’s in. They’re about to find out how far an alpha will go to protect his fated mate.
One
Daphne
The Meat Market is always packed like a sardine can on a Friday night, and I was regretting that I said yes to picking up an extra shift. I needed the money, sure. But did I need it badly enough to spend a night fending off drunk guys whose idea of a come-on was, “If I told you that you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?”
As I picked up empty glass steins from a table and loaded them onto a tray, my manager Clarisse tapped my arm. I knew what was coming.
“Table three is complaining that you dumped your beer on his lap.” Her perfectly plucked brows pinched together in a frown, and she tucked a streamer of white-blonde hair behind her ear.
I smiled sweetly at the red-faced guy who was mopping himself off with a handful of towels and gave him a little finger wave.
“Table three pinched my butt.” Then I carried the tray over to the busboy’s station and set it down. Clarisse followed me.
“He’s still a paying customer,” Clarisse said primly. “And you can just—” Her eyes opened wide. “Oh my God, it’s the Viking! He’s back!”
My friend Miranda was scurrying by with her order pad clutched in her hand. She dramatically screeched to a halt. “The Viking?” she cried out, her head swiveling as she eagerly scanned the crowd. “Where?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m seating him in my section.” Clarisse flashed a triumphant smirk at Miranda. “He’ll be eating at Chez Clarisse tonight. And after he gets a taste of Clarisse à la mode, he’ll be coming back for seconds.” She swept off toward the front of the bar, moving as fast as she could in tight jeans and sky-high heels. Her father owned the Meat Market, and she used it as her personal hunting ground.
“Does it bother anyone else that Clarisse likes to refer to herself in the third person and also uses restaurant references when it comes to sex?” I wondered aloud. “It bothers Daphne. That’s me. I’m Daphne.”
“Well, Miranda wants to yank out Clarisse’s fake-ass weave,” Miranda muttered, glaring at the waterfall of platinum hair pouring down Clarisse’s back. Then she flashed me an impatient look. “Anyway, at least now you’ll believe the Viking is real.”
For the past few weeks, all the waitresses have been obsessed with the “Viking.” The man, the myth, the legend.
He was an improbably hot guy who suddenly appeared in our little town of Red Sands, New Mexico. Nobody knew where he lived or what he did for a living. He just started coming to the restaurant a few times a week, never on the shifts that I was working and always ordered a crazy amount of rare steak to go. He sounded too good to be true, and up until this moment, I didn’t believe he existed.
In fact, I still needed convincing.
“Where is this paragon of gorgeousness, then?”
Miranda inclined her head in the direction of the front door. Across the crowded room, I could just make out the top of a tall blond guy’s head. He was standing by the door talking to the bouncer.
As my eyes lighted on what little I could see of the mystery hottie, a sensual heat flared under my skin, and my heartbeat sped up. What a strange reaction. I couldn’t even see his face.
“I can’t believe Clarisse’s hogging him like that,” Miranda complained. “Well, that’s not true. Of course I believe it. That’s exactly the kind of thing that she’d do.”
I turned away. Whoever this guy was, he sounded like trouble. I didn’t need to jump into the long line of women eager to sample his wares. “By the way, did you know that Vikings did not, in fact, wear horned helmets?”
Miranda looked at me in horror. “You shut your filthy mouth, woman!”
I shook my head in emphasis. “There has never been a single archaeological finding of a horned Viking helmet.”
“My fifth-grade shield-maiden costume was a lie?” Miranda said indignantly. “You’ve ruined my childhood. Well, one night of my childhood. All I can say is, you stay away from the Easter Bunny and Santa, wench. I don’t even know why I’m friends with you.”
“Because I’m brilliant, witty, and I make a mean apple brown Betty?”
“That can’t be the reason. Well, except for the last part. Ooh, look, there’re three more hotties! Sweet! Since we can’t have the Viking.” Miranda jerked her thumb in the direction of a nearby booth.
* * *
Objectively, the three guys who’d just settled in there were good-looking. They were dark-haired and thick-browed, wearing jeans and lace-up construction boots. Their T-shirts revealed long, ropy muscles, and they glared around the room with challenging expressions on their faces.
* * *
The hair on the back of my neck rose up. Something about them immediately rubbed me the wrong way. “I’d steer clear,” I told her. As I said it, an odd smell washed toward us from their direction. Almost like…wild dog? I’ve always had an amazing sense of smell, and these guys smelled like nothing I’ve ever come across.
Miranda nudged my arm. “Come on. I can have two of them, and you can have one. It’ll be your birthday present.”
“Nope, I’m all set, thanks. You’re still going to the spa with me tomorrow, right?” I said, worried. “I made reservations.” My first ever spa visit! I’d been saving up for this birthday treat for months.
“Of course I am.” She fluttered her eyes at the three guys. “Unless they keep me up late.” She saw the look on my face. “Kidding!”
My heart sank. No, she wasn’t kidding. I liked Miranda, and she was the only real friend I’d made since I moved back home to Red Sands six months ago, but she was flakier than a breakfast croissant.
She waved at the guys, and one of them waved back and gave her a leering wink. I stifled a shudder. “They’re all yours,” I said.
“Ooh, Christmas came early!” Miranda grinned and hurried over to their table. She leaned over to give them a generous view of her cleavage. Miranda was short like me but petite, and she liked to wear padded bras and scoop-neck shirts. She certainly seemed to have caught their attention.
I sighed and headed back to my section to take more orders, making a mental note to catch the bubonic plague next time someone tried to foist off a Friday night shift.
A couple of minutes later, Miranda came over and tapped my shoulder. “I asked what they wanted, and they said they’d like us to join them in their hotel room tonight.” She widened her eyes hopefully. “It might be fun!” I scrunched up my face in a grimace.
“I’m all set, thanks.”
She pursed her lips in annoyance. “Whatever. All for me, then.”
I opened my mouth to answer, but a wave of dizziness swept over me, and black spots swam in front of my eyes.
I hurried off and shoved my way through the crowd. My heart was racing, and I didn’t know why. I’ve never been prone to dizzy spells or panic attacks.
I made it to the hallway in the back of the restaurant. It led to the kitchen and also to the back alley behind the restaurant. I stood there for a moment, eyes shut, brac
“Daphne? Let’s go. You’ve got to come with me.” A rough, growly voice said from behind me. And another smell swept through the air, but this one was delightful. Masculine, musky, with a hint of pine forest thrown in.
Somehow, I knew even before I opened my eyes.
The Viking.
Two
Daphne
He was easily six foot six, eyes chocolate brown, thick dark hair that swept past his shoulders and a lush beard that framed full lips.
I must have been hallucinating because it sounded like he’d just ordered me to leave with him.
His eyes met mine and his gaze pierced my soul. He stared at me as if he knew me, as if he’d always known me deeply, intimately. Heat swept over me, and my nipples instantly turned hard as my panties dampened.
“Holy wow,” I choked out.
His mouth curled up in a sardonic smile. “So I’ve heard. Don’t worry, though. I’m more than just a pretty face. I also do tricks. Shall I show you one?”
“Excuse you?” I snorted. “I mean, you’re not that hot.”
His eyes gleamed with amusement, and he folded broad arms across his chest. “Actually, I am.”
“Yeah.” I sighed in defeat. I mean, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. “You really are.”
He nodded, smiling down at me. “And so are you. We’re well matched. The fates have smiled on me today in many ways.”
Of course. Here came the cheesy lines. Did I look like an easy mark? Like I’d be hard up. Like he wouldn’t have to put much work into it?
“You can tell, too, right?” He quirked an eyebrow. “I scented it the first time I walked in here.”
Scented it? Curiouser and curiouser. Did this actually pass for a pickup line where he came from?
I should have stomped off. And I definitely would…in a minute or two. It was just that standing there next to him felt so right, somehow. I had so much stress going on in every area of my life, between a recent breakup, dealing with a crazy mother’s mood swings, and being so broke I couldn’t even pay attention. I just wanted to enjoy this feeling a little more before I swept away in a huff.
“You know my name,” I said. “What’s yours? I can’t keep calling you the Viking.”
“The Viking?” he grinned. “Come again?”
I almost did…just from looking at you.
His eyes widened and I was struck by the sudden, mortifying thought that he was reading my mind. That better not be true because there was an X-rated movie reel starring him and me running through the back of my head.
Was that why he was smiling like that?
“That’s what all the other girls have been calling you,” I murmured, cheeks heating in embarrassment.
“Well, they can keep calling me that. You can call me Killian.” The name fit him. Sexy. Deadly. Couldn’t he have been named Herbert? Did everything about him have to be so annoyingly hot?
“Nice to meet you, Killian.”
“Yes, it is.” He nodded. “We’ll have time to get to know each other a lot better. Right now, you need to come with me. You’re in danger.”
My eyebrows shot up toward my hairline. “I’m sorry, say what now?”
He leaned in and raised his voice a little. “You need to come with me. You’re in danger,” he repeated.
I took a step back, even though my shameless libido wanted to leap onto him and climb him like a tree.
“I heard you the first time.” I laughed. “I just couldn’t believe you thought that would work. Do a lot of girls fall for that line?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never used it before.”
“I feel so special.” I shook my head at him. “Sorry. I’ve got to go back to work.” I didn’t care if my entire body was humming with desire for this man. It would be a cold day in Hades before I waltzed off with a sexy stranger just because he’d crooked his little finger at me.
His smile faded. He shook his head in puzzlement. “What’s the problem?”
“Are you serious?” I laughed. “First of all, I’ve got customers waiting. And secondly, buy a girl dinner first, won’t you?”
“All right,” he said agreeably. “Or I could hunt down a stag and cook you dinner. That’s traditionally the way it’s done with our pack.”
There he went again. He actually thought I’d go back to the house of a perfect stranger so he could “cook me dinner”? And what a weird way to refer to his friends – a pack? Like – a gang or something?
“I was kidding. I just meant if you’re trying to ask a girl out, you need to put in a little effort. Well, it’s been strange. Got to go, see you never,” I said. That was true because once he struck out with me, he’d just wink at the next girl, and she’d fall into his arms, and the thought made me very sad.
I tried to walk past him. He moved in front of me. “Daphne. You’re not listening. You’re coming with me.” He reached out and put his hand on my arm. An electric shock of arousal sizzled down my nerve endings. I yanked my arm away, and he took a step closer to me.
I took a step back.
Fear battled with attraction.
He was moving me toward the open doorway at the end of the hall—the one that led to the alley behind the restaurant. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
Everything below my navel cried out, yes, yes, yes! While my brain screamed, “Run!”
My heart thudded in my chest. I stopped dead and planted my feet firmly, and he walked up until he was pressed against me. The thickness of his enormous erection pressed into my chest and made me dizzy with desire.
His mouth curled up in a lazy smile. “I knew you’d come around.”
Before I could reply, an indignant voice yelped from behind him. “Daphne! I told you he was mine!”
I stepped to the side so I could see around him. Clarisse stood there, glaring at me. A chef poked his head out the kitchen door, down the hallway from us, to see what the ruckus was about.
“Everything okay?” the chef called out. He walked into the hallway, and a couple of sous-chefs joined him. At least I had an audience now, which meant that Killian couldn’t kidnap me. That was definitely good news – although my libido apparently hadn’t gotten the message yet.
Killian turned around, scowling. He shot an annoyed look at the kitchen staff and then directed a look of disgust at Clarisse. “I told you I’m not interested,” he said to her. “Several times. You might want to get your hearing checked.”
“Your loss.” Clarisse’s face flushed red. She fixed her angry gaze on me. “We don’t need any more servers,” she said snidely. “I’m cutting staff. Go home. In fact, take the week off.”
That was a financial disaster, but I didn’t have time to freak out about it at the moment. I was a little busy dodging a potential kidnapping. I took the opportunity to dart past Killian and bolt down the hall and through the crowded bar, ignoring Killian’s shouts.
As I ran, the three creepy guys from Miranda’s section stood up as if to go.
For some reason, it felt as if they were all staring at me. Was it a coincidence that the three guys were leaving at the same time that I was? Why was I suddenly a hot commodity?
I wasn’t going to wait around to find out. I barreled through the drunk, sweaty crowd until I made it to the front door, hurried out to the street, and ran over to my parked car.
Seconds later, I was screeching down the block and around the corner. I glanced behind me and saw all three men standing on the sidewalk, hurrying toward a white van.
The same instincts that told me I needed to run also told me that going back to my apartment wouldn’t be safe.
