Beaufort Creek Shifters (10 book series)
The Wolf’s Bullied Mate Chapter 1

Isaiah

A blanket of blue the shade of starlight melted away the cover of night as I raced across the dirt road. Rocks clacked against the tips of my steel-toed boots, frantic strides carrying me to the moist patch of grass just beyond the dark tan path. Leaves crunched underfoot. Lingering crickets heralded a new day while a lonely owl hooted somewhere in the distance.

Could have been an animal. Could have been a pack member too. It was hard to tell around these parts.

As I launched over a hill, I got a better view of the cornfield and the structures standing beyond the shadowy stalks. My stomach flipped as I sprinted through the taller grass, an earthy scent springing from every stomp of my boots. Flowers bent to my will as I scampered with feverish adrenaline around the field to get to one of the nearest barns.

Two weeks of being an early riser on this godforsaken farm and I'd decided to sleep in today of all days. Without any coffee to fuel me, I was running on pure anxiety, sweating despite the fact that I was probably ten times as strong as anybody around here. They might have been shifters, but I was a greater asset than three wolf shifters combined, my muscles containing a secret formula made of whey protein, eggs, and enough coffee to give an elephant a heart attack.

I huffed as I slowed my pace. The doors of the closest barn were parted slightly. Light spilled out onto the earth, sharp yellow cutting the reddish soil that contrasted the impending light of the sun. I straightened my posture, squared my shoulders, and shoved the door aside, listening to it screech on its hinges.

What a sound to hear at the crack of dawn. It grated me to my bones, sending me directly to the table on the right, the one with the industrial coffee maker and reusable mugs. I filled two peach mugs, slammed a hefty amount of sugar into those babies, and then double-fisted the nectar of the gods as I went to check the pairing board on the opposite wall.

Our makeshift leader was an organizational nerd who prepped schedules well before dawn. I swore she rarely got any sleep. The way she paired people in the field annoyed me to no end too. If it were me in charge, I would've had this place doubling its output within three days. There was no doubt about that.

But no, my alpha had decided to defer to their alpha, the Hayden pack alpha, a guy who wore a leather jacket in the middle of a hot day. Like some kind of smart-a*s. Like it wasn't hot at all in Beaufort, South Carolina where humidity clung for dear life on every gulp of air like a clingy ex-girlfriend who couldn't take a damn hint.

One long swig from the right mug reduced my irritation about two percent. With an additional swig from the left mug, it was reduced by five. More sips set me straight, but it wasn't going to be enough to deal with that bubbly attitude from that ridiculously spirited and annoying wolf.

Who wasn't even from the same pack as me.

Two weeks, I thought. Troy gave up the Bravecrest pack at the first sign of us being destroyed. Now we're stuck with the Hayden pack, who couldn't even come up with a better name than their alpha's last name.

Three bombs detonated in my gut signaling another wave of agitation. That was fine. Coffee would do the trick to quell the aftershock. That was the idea, anyway.

"That stuff is going to kill you one day."

The uninvited comment drew my attention away from the dry-erase board. If irritation alone was enough to inspire a cataclysmic event, my eyes could have very well been registered as lethal weapons. And while I couldn't knock her down for that statement, the least I could do was make her aware that she wasn't welcome to make another kind of comment like that in the future.

Even if she was technically my boss.

Sinister energy swirled around me as I turned to face the curvy woman with caramel-brown hair tucked into a bun on her head. Compared to me, she was remarkably short. Sharp in the mouth but short and largely harmless. She wore a white tank top with multicolored cotton pants tied with a white sash. Nothing a field worker would typically wear. Not even the beat-up tennis shoes on her feet could have told me she was a field worker. Teacher, maybe. Crafter. But definitely not physical labor.

Soft honey-tan brown skin flushed with a coat of scarlet for a brief second, her oval face appearing more angular with the lighting. But it was just the lighting. Her thick brows knotted together in what I assumed was an attempt at disappointment and almond-brown eyes glared right back at me, daring me to say something back to her.

Oh, I had plenty of things I could say.

I could insult her pack-because it wasn't my pack at this point despite what Troy informed me-and I could insult her sense of style. I could do everything under the sun to make her squirm in her skin. Such luscious skin deserved worship rather than criticism, but she got on my nerves too often for me to consider that as an option.

Unless I went the route of the rotten honeypot. Back in the old days, Troy had entrusted me to take down our enemies with such methods, inspiring my bastard of a nickname for the operation in the first place. It would be so easy to seduce her, to earn her trust, to get her on her knees begging for me to worship her. From there, I would destroy her from the inside out, shredding whatever confidence she thought she had.

It would be too easy. But it would probably get my alpha and my friends thrown out of the Haydens' good graces altogether.

Did I want to risk our security after we'd lost so much already?

I growled, raised the right mug, and then downed the burning hot coffee in three great gulps. I did the same with the left mug, slamming the mugs on the table while a few rivers of coffee dribbled from my lips.

She squinted at me. "Heartburn city. There's TUMS in the cabinet."

"I don't need that shit, Jada."

"Sure you don't."

She rolled her eyes and started for the office door near the breakfast table. One quick move slid me right into her path, blocking her from completing whatever managerial duties she saw fit to embody-or try to embody.

I wiped the remaining liquid from my lips as I stared her down.

"Move," she said firmly. "I don't have time for your bad attitude today, Isaiah."

"Is that really any way to speak to your worker?"

She slid her arm under my arm. I snapped my arm down, trapping her easily.

She gritted her teeth and hissed up at me. "If you don't quit it, I'm pairing you with me today."

"Are you sure that's actually a threat?"

"Move, Isaiah."

I pivoted my body and released her arm simultaneously, causing her to stumble back. She flung her arms wide for a second to steady her stance and then planted her hands on her pretty damn gorgeous and enticing hips. Work relationships should never be sullied with fantasies. However, since I didn't consider this my pack, I didn't consider her my boss, so I could imagine her however the hell I wanted.

Which was starting to get dirty in the back of my mind. It was too early to handle that, so I went in the opposite direction.

Tipping my head to the left cracked my neck. The relief inspired a groan as I casually approached Jada, towering over her at my full height, blocking whatever light spewed from the dirty bulb above.

"Listen to me carefully, Miss Jada Moore," I stated in a low, gravelly voice. "You're not my boss. You're not even part of my pack. I've let you play manager these past two weeks out of respect for my alpha." Her eyes rounded as I bent forward to get in her face.

I lightly but firmly poked her shoulder with my forefinger. "I'm not a total dick, Jada. I can admit when I'm wrong. And I was wrong about it being a punishment to be paired with you today."

Her chest heaved as she took a sharp breath. "And how do you figure that?"

Well, I had to hand it to her-regardless of how scared she appeared, she was verbally as feisty as ever. Maybe she would be a better match as a worker than I anticipated.

That didn't grant me much pause, considering the situation. She wanted to square up? Then it was time to square up.

I frowned. "Because it wouldn't be punishment for me, sugar tits." I growled as I practically pressed my forehead to her forehead, getting as uncomfortably close as possible. "It would be a punishment for you." Whatever could have happened next didn't. I expected her to push me away, to yell, to throw a tantrum, or to stomp off to complain to her alpha.

But she didn't do those things. She just stared back at me, eyes wider than blossomed flowers and shimmering with a hint of something I couldn't quite discern. Was it fear? Excitement? Sometimes those two things could get mixed up. It wouldn't be the first time I'd seen it.

She gulped. Yeah, she was confusing her own brain signals.

Maybe drinking a damn cup of coffee would clear all that up.

I leaned back and folded my arms over my chest, allowing my muscles to bulge. She still didn't budge. Instead, her eyes fell to my arms, widening even more-if that were even possible-at the sight of me flexing.

So, I was right. It would be punishment for her.

Well, I would just have to make sure to make it count, wouldn't I?

***

I was wrong.

Jada was an insufferable know-it-all in the field. Every time I did something, she stepped in to correct me, barely editing whatever action I had chosen to take by a mere molecule. If I moved left, she wanted me to move right. If I bent down, she wanted me to kneel. It was more annoying than the time Elias had gotten stuck in his bear form and kept scratching his back on every tree he could find.

My frown couldn't have grown any deeper-but I was willing to try.

Things are different now, I thought as I grabbed corn husks and tossed them into my basket. Elias isn't just Troy's kid cousin anymore. He's a grown man now. We're all grown.

Jada swatted my hand. "Not like that."

I glowered at her. "You hit me again and I will launch you across this field."

She stood as tall as she could on her toes-which wasn't very tall at all-while shoving her basket into my arms. Corn husks tumbled to the ground as I fumbled both baskets. But only because she caught me by surprise. Anybody could be taken off guard when they had a stuck-up brat for a wannabe boss.

I snarled. "You're pushing your luck, Jada."

"Am I?" She pushed my shoulder lightly. "How about now?"

I kicked the baskets out of the way as I marched forward. Cornstalks that would have towered over anyone shorter than my height bent viciously as I bowed my head like a bull ready to charge. She scampered backward with her fists clenched in front of her. "Stop it," she grunted. "Leave me alone or I'm getting the alpha!"

"I don't give a goddamn who you try to bring out here-I told you to stop smacking me!"

She tripped over something-a basket or a rock or whatever-and went flying back, landing on her voluptuous ass with a loud squeak that stung my core. I stood over her with enough anger in my gaze to melt her like an ice cube under the midsummer sun. She peered up at me with a mixture of terror and exhilaration. Why the exhilaration? Well, I couldn't imagine her heart was thudding erratically like that from fear alone. Something about the way she panted for air like it was her final moments flipped a switch inside me. The white top she wore rode down and revealed a dangerous amount of cleavage, soaked with sweat that had accumulated all morning.

It suddenly felt like I had starch in my jeans.

She sneered. "You're nothing but a bully."

I snapped back to reality. No daydreams to be found here. Only the shivering mess cowering beneath me that should have been a leader.

So much for her being in charge, I thought. That was way too easy.

Easy wasn't my style. I liked to earn my position. By force if necessary. Seeing her mentally throw in the towel like this wasn't satisfying.

I needed to win the right way.

I pointed in the direction of the horse barn. "I'll make you a deal, sugar tits. Race me back to the animal barn. If you win, you get to swat me all you want."

Her eyes darted to my hand and then back to my eyes. Some of the fear melted but the excitement lingered. "And if I lose?"

A devilish smirk developed over my lips. "I get to swat you in a place of my choosing."

The way her heartbeat jumped into her throat worsened the starch in my pants. She hopped to her feet and took off, leaving a trail of mocha in her wake. The scent was intoxicating-and it made me want a cup of coffee so badly that my legs moved without any prompting from my brain at all.

All instinct. No control.

She would soon learn who was the rightful shifter in charge.

Wherever cornstalks were bent slightly, I pursued her. With a scent like delicious mocha, I could have raced after her anywhere, even in the city. It didn't matter what kind of combative smells came to my nostrils. Hers remained steady, as if my body understood the very nature of her without knowing her at all.

What did I know about Jada other than the fact that she was a pain in my ass? She was way too positive for a morning person, aggravatingly assertive, and spirited, with a green thumb. She knew her shit. Except how to keep her pride from slipping into her work. That was fine. Once I beat her to the barn, I would put her in place-right over my knee. Those swats were going to count whether she liked it or not. And since she had taken off without negotiating any finer details, I assumed she would be fine with just about anything. Spankings included.

I barely broke a sweat when I exited the cornfield. The barn loomed ahead in its faded glory, the top window reflecting the early afternoon sun. Most shifters would be switching their duties about now. Jada had chosen a good time to compete.

The sight of the double doors closed gave me a ping of hope. I smirked as I whipped them open and casually wandered inside, running my fingers through my red-orange hair that was desperately in need of trimming. With its current style, it appeared more like a stylish mullet, but that didn't bother me too much considering I probably wouldn't stick around the Hayden pack for very long.

Their alpha was not my alpha. None of this mattered to me.

Still, I had to win. On principle.

I halted in my tracks. The barn was deserted save for the two horses occupying the stalls at the end. I heard one of them munching on something, which was the only other sound over the soft crunch of my boots on the hay strewn about the barn floor. A humid breeze swirled in after me, rustling my hair.

Mocha. That distinct smell. It met me just as I reached the end of the barn. I turned around with a triumphant smile. "Well, guess who won the-"

There was no one there.

Where the hell had the scent come from if she wasn't here?

An unnecessarily loud crunch came from my right. I peered into the horse stall, spotting the curvy woman leaning nonchalantly against a post near a massive brown horse-wearing a goddamn robe.

She held up her apple. "Look who finally made it."

My jaw hit the ground. "That's impossible."

"You gave me a head start."

"You took off without me saying you could."

She laughed. "It's not like you gave me any rules." She shrugged, drawing more attention to the robe she was wearing. It was made of white silk with cherry blossoms printed on it.

My anger doubled. "You shifted to get ahead of me."

"Again, no rules."

"You fucking bi-"

She held up a finger. "I'd be careful what you say next, sugar dick." She held the apple in her other hand with her palm and fingers totally flat, allowing the horse to lap it up without even glancing in his direction. "These horses are sensitive. You're going to scare them off."

I was fuming up to my ears with her bullshit. "You f*****g cheated."

"No rules," she repeated sternly as she stepped forward. She opened the stall door and gently closed it behind her, smiling up at me with a smug expression. "I'll swat you tomorrow, champ."

I growled. "I want a rematch."

She waltzed past me, waving over her shoulder like I was some kid she was passing off.

The fucking nerve she had doing that to me of all people. "I said I want a rematch, Jada!"

My demand boomed through the barn and disturbed both horses, causing them to pace nervously in their stalls.

That made her stop dead in her tracks.

She adjusted the robe and turned around slowly, drilling me with a gaze that could have turned me to stone if she had been Medusa.

"Fine," she spat. "Tomorrow at dawn. The flagpole. No equipment."

I let my smile turn from irritated to sinister. She would pay for her insolence. She would get what she deserved-a firm smack on her a*s for trying to show me up. "No rules..."