Wild Child

A pack of lies
Pregnant and single, Melody Rush fled to Alaska to avoid marrying the cruel Alpha who knocked her up. All he wants is her inheritance, which she won’t get unless she marries him. But she’d rather live in poverty than spend her life with a man she detests

When a huge, tat-covered bounty hunter tracks her down, she knows she’s out of options. He’s surprisingly kind in a growly, resentful sort of way, and something about him makes her insides quiver with something besides fear…

A tarnished champion
Ash Huntington is on a mission, determined to dig his pack out of the debt they're in because of his mistake. But when he finally catches up to the bounty he's been tracking, his wolf insists she’s his mate. Melody’s funny, determined, and fierce, and all she wants is to protect her unborn child from the monster who hired him. But if Ash doesn't turn her in, his pack loses everything. If he does, he'll lose her forever.

Yet he’ll be damned if he lets another man steal his fated bride.

Fingers stiff, Melody fumbled in her pocket for the keys to her condo before noticing that someone had left the door ajar—again. “Oh, no.”

She stepped inside and pulled the door firmly closed behind her, glancing around for signs of an intruder. Last time, a homeless guy had fallen asleep in the elevator and she’d been forced to use the stairs. Her place was on the third floor, and right now, her feet were numb. She pushed the elevator button. “Please be empty.”

Thankfully, it was. The jerky ride to her floor reminded her she had to pee, and she raced to her front door. Dropping her now-cold food on the arm of the sofa, she locked the door behind her, then stripped out of her parka as she beelined it across the tiny living area, through her bedroom, and into the bathroom.

“Gotta pee, gotta pee, gotta pee,” she chanted as she hurried to get her pants down. She was so chilly, even the hard toilet seat felt warm against her skin. Blessed relief filled her as she emptied her bladder.

She was washing her hands when she heard a creak, like someone was moving around her bedroom. Turning off the water, she stood still and listened.

Another floorboard popped.

Every muscle in her body tensed. Although she’d been born to shifter parents, she didn’t have a shifter form to protect herself. Grandfather said mom had given her weak genes. I should call the police. Except her phone was in her coat pocket near the front door.

Breathing hard, she looked for something to use as a weapon. The only item in reach was the toilet brush, so she grabbed it and peered into the murky twilight of her bedroom. The blinds were shut, but there was enough light to see the bedcovers were rumpled, just as she’d left them. The closet didn’t have any doors for someone to hide behind. Maybe she’d imagined it. The building was old and creaky.

Heart thundering, she crept into the room. The top drawer of her dresser hung open. Had she left it that way? The last of her jewelry was in that drawer, her only hope of staying afloat until after the baby was born and she could land another job. She grew light-headed. What if he’d already been in here when she got home and she hadn’t noticed? The thief could be escaping right now.

Still wielding the toilet brush, she rushed toward the drawer and peered inside. She’d never been one for folding clothes, and her panties and bras lay jumbled inside. She gingerly nudged the lingerie aside, looking for the silk pouch with her jewelry.

It wasn’t there.

“Mother fucker,” she said out loud, anger displacing her fear.

She pivoted to the door. If the thief was still in the house, she was going to at least get a description to help the police catch the crook. How dare someone break in here and touch her things? She burst out of her bedroom into the small living area and collided against something solid. Huge. And living.

A giant, tattooed man stood between her and the exit.