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Lisa was wicked.
Wicked and damaged. She’s spent half her twenty years locked away in a psychiatric facility because her uncontrollable alpha rages are inexplicable in a human world. Orphaned when she was a baby, she doesn’t even know what she is. All she knows is what they’ve always told her.
Wicked.
Mac helps his family run Raleigh Point, a group foster home for abused or abandoned shifter babies and children. Beyond taking on an occasional tracking job for the FBI, he never worries about much. He likes to play hard, usually with an attractive woman. Never too much responsibility. Life is good.
When Mac rescues Lisa from that grimy god-forsaken excuse for a hospital, he realizes life has to change. Lisa, drugged and damaged, is his mate.
With Lisa’s problems only just beginning, can Mac also rescue her from a crazed rogue alpha intent on making her his queen?
Excerpt:
Mac hunkered down in front of the
shaking, curled-up form in the corner. Humanity? Some people didn’t
know the meaning of the word.
Mac hesitated as he took her in. He
couldn’t smell her as the stench of the place was masking it, and
he wished again he had his mom or Cassie with him. He also
acknowledged that Brett had it right. They were drugging her to move
her, and he’d only just got here in time.
His eyes fastened on the trembling
figure in front of him. Short gasps tore out of her throat. Head
hunched down, arms tightened around the knees, and clasped against
her chest. Hanging on. Filthy sweats, worse than some he’d thrown
away. Goose bumps pricking her bare arms. The only bright thing in
muddy looking, matted hair, was red. A drop. God, had they hit her?
She hid her face, alternated between shivering and rocking, except
with no chair. What the hell did they do to you, honey?
Lisa? Yeah, that was what Brett said
her name was. Mac cleared his throat. He had to get her out of here,
and he didn’t have time to be gentle. “Lisa? We need to get you
out of here.” He placed one hand on her shaking forearm. He caught
the swift arc of her arm trying to connect with his face. Whoa, well,
that was definitely an alpha reaction. Taking me on? He’d have
laughed if it were funny—at all. “No one’s gonna hurt you.
Don’t you wanna get out of here? Mmm? There ya go.” He shrugged
out of his sweatshirt. Thin arms stiffened but stayed still, and her
chest rose at a slower rate when he’d gently pulled the sweatshirt
past her eyes. “So, you’re not ready to try and take me out,
huh?”
She lifted her face finally.
Oh God, now?
Here?
Of all times and in all places, stuck
in some dingy shit excuse for a hospital, with some girl who looked
like she needed far more care than he could give. His bear clawed
frantically at him to get out, nearly bowling him over in the rush to
get to her.
Mate.
Mac growled and hung his head in
despair. He hadn’t been able to smell her because of everything
else, and it had taken brushing the side of her arm to help her with
his sweatshirt as she lifted her face to him to know. God, what a
mess.
Mate.
A soft touch pulled his gaze.
Possessiveness whirled around Mac as he struggled not to gather her
up and bury her in his arms. Need stabbed him. Confusion chased the
gold flecks in her gorgeous eyes, and he wanted it gone. He wanted
those incredible eyes clear and focused—on him. He realized she
would feel a connection, but her ignorance and whatever drugs she had
in her system masked it. She lifted a shaky hand to touch the side of
his face, but still didn’t say one word. Deep purple marks marred
her neck. Mac’s body tightened, and a shallow breath managed to
escape. He took in her pale face under the bruises and gazed at the
chipped stubs of filthy, bitten fingernails as she lowered her hand
back to her side.
Mac pulled himself together. “Lisa,
we need to get you out of here, okay?” He gently helped her stand.
She winced as he looped an arm around her side to steady her. He took
one look around the bare room and didn’t bother to ask if she
needed to take anything. Taking one cautious step, she tried, but her
knees buckled. Mac caught her before got anywhere near the floor.
Without thinking, he brushed one kiss on her forehead and looked into
those big eyes that were fighting to stay open. She blinked at him
slowly, easier breaths ghosting his face, and Mac’s arm tightened
as her head lowered. Yes.
In that small, cautious, trusting
movement, Mac heard his bear roar protectively as his arms tightened
around her. No one would ever hurt a hair on her head again. While he
still had breath left in his body, she would be safe, she would be
cared for, and she would be loved.
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