Read Online Beauty and the Brute [Werescape III] by Skhye Moncrief - Free Book Online Page B

others. But there was no avoiding the evil Normals committed against one another if a person wanted to reach the farthest most remote reaches of The Wild. Areas west of the Mississippi. So remote the extraterrestrials didn't bother wasting time in monitoring the scant Normal and Shifter populations scattered across that expanse of the wilderness. Desolate to those who couldn't fend for themselves. Sanctuary to others who banded together to ward off Bounder attacks at
    nightfall. Places men would fight one another for a chance to have a woman like Beauty. I'd be wise to leave her at any of the sanctuaries run by Shifter clans.
    Mine, Wolf growled.
    Before Wolf sank his fangs into her. The last thing a wise warrior wanted was to be mated to a Normal.
    Mine.
    One more mistake like last night in the cave with her soft skin and curves pressed against a wall and I'd become a Normal's conquest. A pawn in a game Shifters couldn't afford to lose in a world humans desperately struggled to hang onto. I should have never touched her skin.
    Never pulled her onto my horse. Never allowed her to wrap those arms around my chest. She was trouble.
    Mine. Wolf snorted and began clawing the underside of my ribs.
    Her grip loosened around my chest. Her head touched then pressed into my shoulder blade.
    Almost sagged. Beauty hadn't slept much last night. I glanced over my shoulder.
    She was asleep, her cheek lodged against my back.
    Exhausted from last night's senseless fear. Unable to fend for herself. Hell, I even had to give her a pistol. A weapon she almost wouldn't touch. She left Yale's with a tin of crackers. Not a knife or pack of matches on her. Absolutely defenseless. And Wolf licked his chops to take a bite out of her.
    Protect, Wolf snapped.
    I'd really wedged myself into a tight spot this time. I should have stayed in Canada. A lot could be said about jerking meat and pouring bullets. But I had to set off as usual, on my own little journey. Save a woman who feared crickets. I glanced at her slumped form once more.
    Beauty needed me. By the look on her face when I stopped her in the maze of corridors in
    Yale's basement, I was the last Shifter she expected to find intervening. The last. Her last hope. A man couldn't hold that against her. Couldn't find her anything but innocent of seduction. She just wanted to live. And she was Gods-be-damned fortunate Wolf intended on saving her.
    * * * *
    The scent of smoke and something far more cozy rocked Lorelei gently awake. Smack dab nestled into the camouflage of Brutus’ back. His smell. A mixture of muscles and strength.
    Brutus. Against my cheek.
    Lord, I was all over him. And the way his arms held mine curled around his lap, meant he knew those arms kept me from toppling off the horse. Should I pretend to continue to sleep?
    Or just rise from my embarrassing situation and act like all is well?
    Like I had much of a choice. It's best to just get on with life. I shoved my cheek into him and sat up.
    He just kept steering his mount into the forest.
    Good. “Where are we?” Maybe he'd talk. Change the subject from my hug to our direction.
    "Ohio Territory. You sleep much more, you won't sleep tonight."
    Well, there. We have his slant on things. I'm annoying.
    The horse snorted.
    And the horse agrees. At least they didn't dump my body and make a run for it while I slept.
    This ride to wherever would be the longest miserably boring ride anyone ever had to take.
    "So, why do you hate Normals so much?"
    The question earned me a glance capable of making a starving Bounder wince and run the other direction.
    "I'm in a fairly decent mood. I'll humor you,” he announced.
    The horse took two more steps.
    "Normals captured my parents and traded them to the extraterrestrials."
    That was sufficient reason. But Brutus’ reputation sent Normals scattering. There had to be more to the story. I slid my arms back around his lean solid waist, avoiding his lap. And anything else lurking there. “How old were