Shifter Marriage Pact (Midlife Shifters Book 6) Read online




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  Shifter Marriage Pact

  Mid Life Shifters

  By: J.L. Wilder

  Table of Contents

  Shifter Marriage Pact

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Free Preview of The Alpha’s Brother

  About The Author

  Shifter Marriage Pact

  Chapter One

  Carson

  I looked down the snout of the mangiest-looking wolf I'd seen in an exceptionally long time. Graham, the Alpha of my pack, the Black Fangs, lay sprawled to one side. The dirty Sugar Creek wolf was headed in for the kill when I stopped him

  He had been focused on Graham until he saw me and realized he was facing a bigger threat. He whirled around to attack, but I quickly countered by sidestepping him and grabbing him in the flank, my razor-sharp teeth sinking into his neck before he could react. I yanked my head sideways until I heard the loud snap of his spine. Dropping him on the ground, I took a quick look around for any other takers before turning back to my Alpha. He was breathing but badly hurt.

  Shifting into human form, I knelt beside him. The fighting around me had come to an end, all of the attacking Sugar Creek Wolves either dead, too gravely injured to fight, or in full retreat with our pack on their heels. He groaned and tried to sit up but only got about halfway before collapsing again. His breathing was labored. I wasn’t sure how bad he was, but he was definitely in trouble.

  "Let me help you, Alpha," I told him.

  "No. I can't let them see me like this. Just help me to my feet," he replied.

  I did as he asked, putting my arm around his shoulder and helping him make his way to my truck before anyone took note. I opened the door and stood behind him as he struggled up into the seat, partly to obscure any view of his weakened condition but also to make sure he didn't fall. Once he settled inside, I ran around to the driver's seat and jumped behind the wheel.

  "Just get me home and bring the doctor there, Carson. Let's keep my injuries between us, okay?"

  "Yes, Alpha," I replied.

  I wasn't sure how long I could do that. He was pretty torn up, bleeding all over my leather seats. I was afraid he might bleed out before I even got him home. There was no time to waste. I called the doctor as we drove, both of us bloody and naked from the fight. What a sight we were going to be if we got pulled over. The humor of that didn't escape me even as I worried about the condition my fading Alpha was in beside me.

  Back at his place, I got him inside and helped him get into bed. It was going to be a mess in there later, but he could buy new sheets. For now, I addressed the wounds that seemed the worst, using the skills I’d learned from what we called “War Camp,” where we learned many of the skills someone in the military would possess. It ran for two years, and we trained in both human and wolf forms. I was still dressing wounds when I heard someone knock at the screen door.

  “Doc, we’re in here,” I called out.

  I heard the door open and footsteps cross the floor. For a moment, I panicked, realizing that it was possible we’d been followed and I’d just left the door open for the Sugar Wolves to finish us both off. I whirled around, breathing a sigh of relief to find the pack doctor approaching with his case.

  “Thank God. I’ve done what I could to plug the leaks, but I didn’t have what I needed to really take care of the problem.”

  “Good grief, Carson. I’m not a Ford Fiesta that broke down,” Graham croaked at me.

  “Of course not, Alpha. If anything, you are a pimped out vintage El Camino,” I shot back.

  “Don’t make me laugh. I’m fairly sure that dirty, feral bastard broke some ribs.”

  “It’s possible. I know he’s a biter. You’ve got more holes in you than an action movie plot.”

  “Great. I’m going to bleed out while being subjected to bad jokes.”

  “I’ll stop,” I laughed, moving aside as the doctor took over. With some assistance as requested, we managed to get the old man taped up and his wounds sanitized and bandaged.

  “That ought to do you while you heal. What got you?”

  “Those damn Sugar Creek wolves. Fucking fleabags.”

  “Well, barring mange or rabies, you should be just fine.”

  “That’s encouraging.”

  “Hey, I’m here to tell you the truth, not to humor you. You got any clean sheets in this place?”

  “I do.”

  “I suggest you and your sidekick here change your bed then. You’ve destroyed the ones that are on there. I’ll be back tomorrow to see how you’ve healed and if I need to address any wounds that aren’t sealing up.”

  “Thanks, Doc. I appreciate the quick response. Also, I’d like to keep this between us.”

  “Always is, Graham,” he said, gathering his stuff and leaving.

  I helped Alpha change the bed, rolling him slightly to one side to keep him from having to get up as I pulled the sheet from beneath him and replaced it with a fresh one. We talked as I worked.

  “What do you think possessed them to do that? How would they have even known there were only a dozen of us and that we were meeting remotely?”

  “I have no idea. You know how it is in a small place like this. Both Bootlegger’s Hill and Sugar Creek are full of people willing to sell someone out for a six-pack of beer, human and wolf alike.”

  “True. It’s disgusting how pliable people are these days. There used to be honor among the packs, even rivals. We respected one another’s territory and left each other alone unless someone crossed a line we’d agreed upon. Now, it’s every man for himself, even within the pack.”

  “You’re right about that.”

  “Times have changed, and I’m afraid that I haven’t done a decent job of changing with them, Carson. I’ve gotten old, weak. If not for you today, I’d have been history.”

  “I doubt that, Alpha. You were battered, but not down for the count.”

  “Now, you’re just feeding me bullshit. You and I both know you saved my ass. It’s a debt I’ll repay at some point. I promise you that.”

  “You owe me nothing. You’re my Alpha, and it is a part of my oath to this pack to protect you and anyone else in our fold.”

  “At least someone remembers that,” he sighed, obviously tired.

  “Do you need me to stay here with you?”

&nb
sp; “Yeah, if it’s not too much trouble. I’m not fit enough if any of them got away and decide to finish me off, and I think I’m best not moving until these ribs heal a bit.”

  “I’ll put some wolves on alert to guard the perimeter without telling them you’re hurt. They’ll at least be able to warn us if anyone turns up so we’re not blindsided.”

  “Thanks. There’s some spare blankets in the hall closet, and the sofa pulls out into a bed.”

  “Sounds good. You got food in the fridge?”

  “Not really. I hardly cook anymore.”

  “I’ll get one of the guys to bring us a burger. I’ll get you a glass of water for your bedside for now.”

  He nodded and lay back against the pillow. Once he healed a bit, he could shift and speed it up, but with the broken ribs, he risked splintering them further than he already had. I’d stay the night while he got through the worst of it and then leave in the morning after the doctor visited and assured me he’d be okay alone.

  Just as expected, the doctor said Alpha would be fine. We left the guards on duty at his house for a few days with orders not to approach unless there was an attack. They were all aware of the situation with the Sugar Creek wolves and just chalked it up to precaution.

  As the days unfolded, he healed from his injuries and was perfectly fine, but it came as no surprise when I began hearing rumors that he intended to step down as Alpha. I knew him well enough to know he wasn't scared by what had happened. He'd been through many battles in his life, but this was the first time he'd been bested by what he would consider a lesser opponent. He was getting older and weaker, poor form for the Alpha of a wolf pack as fierce as the Black Fangs. He'd called a pack meeting, and we all waited for confirmation or denial of the whispers about his situation.

  "I'll get right to the point of why I've called you here today. As many of you know, my time as your leader will soon draw to a close. I've grown older, and I've seen better days. Unlike those before me, I have no sons to whom I can pass on the mantle. That being the case, I've decided to choose my replacement from among you."

  There were murmurs all around the room as we stood listening to Graham, the only Alpha most of us had ever known. Despite the rumors of late that he might be stepping down, no one knew who would step up to take his place. He'd suffered what some men would consider a curse, but he'd always seemed to take in stride. Of his twelve children, all but one had been female, and the one that wasn't had died under suspicious circumstances years ago.

  He held up his hand to quiet the whispers and continued with his announcement. "I've given it a great deal of thought, and I don't want to make any decision in haste, so I'm giving you all a full year to prepare for the final test that will determine who is worthy. On this day, in one year, there will be a contest to determine who is most physically able to lead this pack. It will be a single day of events that I will reveal at a later time."

  He paused and looked over all the expectant faces, listening to him with rapt attention. There was no doubt that many of them felt they had this in the bag, especially the younger, more agile ones. At forty-seven, I was still well able to keep up with the best of them, but I'd never had any desire to be Alpha—until now. With the option on the table in front of me, I was already considering which of the other pack members were any challenge for me.

  "I will not rule anyone out of a chance to become Alpha, but I do have some criteria you must meet to qualify to compete. I can't afford to have some young buck who doesn't know the meaning of pack and family step into this especially significant role just because he is physically the strongest. So, all competitors must be married, preferably with children. If that's not you and you want a chance, you'll need to find a mate and show me you are settled enough to be a leader. You have a year to figure that out."

  “What about widowers with children?” someone shouted from the back.

  “Who asked that?” Alpha asked.

  “It’s me, Duncan McClarty.”

  “Ah, Duncan. Of course. I will accept that. Granted, it’s not ideal, but I hardly expect a man who has been otherwise stable in his life to feel he has to rush into a new marriage when he’s still in mourning for a lost love.”

  “Aye. Thanks for that,” Duncan replied with a nod.

  Everyone knew that Duncan had lost his wife far too early. She’d died of cancer only last year, after they’d been married for little more than two years. She’d left him with six new babies to raise on his own and, thanks to a lot of help from the pack, he was doing just that. If there was ever a testament to the determination and grit of a wolf, it was the solemn life and endurance of Duncan McClarty. He’d be fierce competition on and off the field.

  Fuck me, I thought to myself. That was going to leave me out. I'd never been married, had no desire to get married, and the chances of that changing in the next year were slim. I could say that I just hadn't met the right girl, but the truth was that I was just picky and liked my freedom. There were several single women in the pack who would marry me if I asked, but I had no intention of doing so, not even for a chance to become the Alpha.

  "Anyway, that's all for now. I'll get together a list of the physical tests so you can start your training if you need it. Most of you are already prepared for such a competition. We can talk more later."

  Graham walked out of the room, leaving us all to ponder his words, but I was suddenly in no mood to discuss it with anyone. There was a huge part of me that wanted a shot at it, but not enough to give up my freedom. Someday, maybe, but I still felt young and had no desire to give up my current lifestyle of doing what and who I wanted.

  "I guess that leaves us out, huh?" one of my pack brothers laughed as he walked out beside me, leaving the others to size one another up and prattle on about who they thought the best man for the job might be.

  "I guess it does, Martin," I replied with a grin that was less than sincere.

  "Look on the bright side; we don't have to sweat it up getting fit as a fiddle for the next year. I'd hate to have to give up my weekend pancakes and beer."

  "Pancakes and beer?"

  "Well, not together, man. What sort of cretin do you take me for?"

  "You really want me to answer that?"

  "Probably not," he laughed.

  "You could stand to get on a fitness regime anyway, contest or not," I told him. "I'm already fit for any contest anyone wants to challenge me to."

  "You're a cocky bastard too. It's a shame you aren't qualified to go for it. You're just a big enough bastard to be Alpha."

  "Thanks for the vote of confidence," I said, chuckling.

  "No problem. I've got to get to the shop. See you later, man."

  "Later, Martin."

  I made a beeline to my truck, suddenly no longer interested in discussing things with anyone else. My mood had shifted for the worse. The best thing to do right now was to go work off the frustration. I drove to the shop and resumed working on the old '65 Ford one of the locals had brought in. Why he'd bought it, I had no idea. Most people that bought a vehicle like that did the mechanic work themselves. Wasn't that part of the joy of owning such a vehicle?

  Not this guy. He had too much money and just wanted to show it off. He'd pay to have the engine rebuilt and the body work repaired. He'd get a custom paint job, new rims, and then show it off to his friends like his prized possession. It was pretentious, but not my problem. People like the rich folks who lived in the bigger cities nearby didn't care what us lesser beings thought of them. To them, I was just a grease monkey, but they had no idea that my bank account would probably put theirs to shame or that I'd likely take their wife in a heartbeat if I chose to charm her.

  I glanced up, catching my reflection in the window of the truck, and grimaced. I could see why they'd think I wasn't their equal. My short brown hair was beginning to show gray around the temples and my full beard sported more than enough of it, too, along with some random ginger strands. My brown eyes looked tired. I looked like a
man who'd spent every day of his life in some sort of struggle for survival. On the one hand, that might be true, but not in the way people like the owner of this truck thought.

  Perhaps I could be Alpha, but I couldn't think of a single woman I would want to marry. Without a wife, I was out of luck.

  "Hey, Carson. I've got a call for a tow. You busy?" Josh called out from the office.

  "Yeah, but I could use a change of scenery. I'll get it," I told him.

  He nodded and went back inside the office. Cleaning off my hands and grabbing the keys to the tow truck, I went to retrieve the information from him. Looking down at the paper, I raised a single eyebrow and looked back up to see him grinning at me.

  "You fucker. You're kidding with this, right?"

  "Nope. Go get her, stud."

  "Fuck you," I muttered, heading out to the tow truck with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.

  Chapter Two

  TJ

  I sat on the bumper of my old Volkswagen, not looking forward to the arrival of the tow truck but ready to be out of the hot sun. It was barely spring but already quite warm here in southern Tennessee. I had about twenty dollars to my name, so it wasn't like I had any choice but to call the pack shop and ask for him. We might not see eye to eye, but I knew he'd help me out as much as he could. I just hated to have to ask. Even more, I hated to see that smirk he would have on his face when I did.

  My thoughts drifted back to how I had gotten there. I'd been young and rebellious, determined to marry a human, against the wishes of my parents and frowned upon by my pack. It had been a mistake, but no one could have told me that at the time. My ex-husband hadn't been a bad person, but we'd been far too different to survive long-term. He was a businessman but had compromised with me early on by buying a house just outside pack lands, closer to the city, but not in the city itself.

  By most terms, Pulaski wasn't exactly a huge city, but compared to the off-grid country town of Bootlegger’s Hill where we lived, it was a booming mecca. His offices were there, and he often traveled further north to Nashville on business. I stayed home and did what I loved, gardening and cooking. The one thing missing was what I had wanted most—children. No matter how hard we tried, I couldn't get pregnant, and after fertility treatments and some unorthodox methods of trying to conceive, we'd given up. That pretty much sums up the end of our marriage, really. We'd given up.