Hybrid Reclaimed (Hate to Love Shifters Book 4) Read online

  Hybrid Reclaimed

  J.L. Wilder

  Copyright © 2021 by J.L. Wilder

  All rights reserved.

  No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

  Contents

  1. XANDER

  2. CEDRIC

  3. DOV

  4. KANE

  5. LACEY

  6. BERN

  7. DOV

  8. KANE

  9. LACEY

  10. LACEY

  11. XANDER

  12. XANDER

  13. LACEY

  14. LACEY

  15. KANE

  16. JEAN

  17. CEDRIC

  18. LACEY

  19. BERN

  20. DOV

  21. LACEY

  22. XANDER

  23. XANDER

  24. LACEY

  25. BERN

  26. LACEY

  27. LACEY

  28. DOV

  29. CEDRIC

  30. LACEY

  31. JEAN

  32. XANDER

  33. XANDER

  34. CEDRIC

  35. JEAN

  36. XANDER

  37. BERN

  38. KANE

  39. LACEY

  40. LACEY

  41. XANDER

  42. LACEY

  43. DOV

  44. KANE

  45. JEAN

  46. CEDRIC

  47. CEDRIC

  48. XANDER

  49. LACEY

  50. KANE

  51. JEAN

  52. KANE

  53. BERN

  54. DOV

  55. LACEY

  56. CEDRIC

  57. JEAN

  58. LACEY

  59. EPILOGUE

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  1

  XANDER

  Xander stood frozen, staring at the scene before him, hardly able to process what he was looking at. His paws dug into the earth as if he was holding on, as if he was afraid of falling off.

  The woman—but could she be called a woman? She certainly wasn’t human—might have been beautiful under other circumstances. That slender, fragile-looking body. The way she held herself, as gracefully as if she was a dancer. Her pale skin, which was almost luminous in the moonlight. Her long limbs, and the supernatural lift of her thick, dark hair—it looked like it was floating out behind her.

  Even her eyes, with their strange red color, were as captivating as they were off-putting. He could have gotten lost in those eyes.

  Except for the fact that she was crouched over his packmate Richard, her lips to his neck, drinking his blood.

  Even that—an act of horrible, inhuman cruelty—was difficult to reconcile with her beauty. Could such a lovely creature really be capable of something so awful? Surely, the fault lay with Xander. He had misunderstood.

  He closed his eyes.

  As soon as he wasn’t looking at her, it became easier to think. The horror of the scene before him came flooding in full force.

  She’s one of the fae, he thought. She has to be. That was what they looked like.

  He couldn’t bring himself to move. He was sure that if he dared, the beautiful and terrible creature before him would become aware of his presence. It was a miracle she didn’t already know he was here.

  He inhaled, doing his best to memorize the sickly sweet scent of her, to make sure that he would be able to recognize it if he ever came across it again.

  Carefully, he opened his eyes. She was still there, still feeding, apparently now fully invested in the meal she was making of Richard’s body.

  Xander felt sick.

  But there was a part of his mind—the part that was a fighter, a survivor, a wolf—that saw opportunity in what was happening now. The fact that she was distracted meant that he could escape. It meant that he might be able to get away without her seeing him.

  And that was vital because the rest of his pack was in these woods, running toward the rendezvous point they had all agreed upon. He had to be there when they arrived. He was the alpha. He had to be ready to lead them now that their homes were destroyed by dragon flame, now that they had nowhere to go.

  He backed away slowly, easing his weight from paw to paw. If he felt a leaf or a stick beneath the pads of his feet, he shifted his stance, found a safer place to step. He knew he couldn’t afford to make a sound. He had no idea how good the mysterious fae woman’s hearing might be. He had no idea how quickly she would launch herself at him and attack if she realized he was here.

  His heart raced the entire time he made his retreat. At any minute, she might look up at him with those blood-red eyes, and then—he had no idea what would happen next. Would his life just end? Would he be dead before he had time to realize what was happening?

  Was that how it had been for Richard?

  He felt a sick pang of guilt over the loss of his friend and packmate. He was the alpha. It had been his job to protect Richard, and he had failed horribly.

  Finally, when the fae woman was so far away from him that he could no longer see the glow of her eyes, so far away that her lithe body was just a shape in the distance, he turned and began to run.

  Only to be brought up short.

  The sky was lighter than it had been when he had stopped to look at her. Much lighter. Day was dawning.

  His stomach dropped.

  How long had he been standing there staring at her, mesmerized by her alien beauty?

  It must have been hours.

  He listened desperately, but there was no sound of wolf footsteps around him. His packmates had been running through the woods—his brother, Mitch, had been just ahead of him—

  They were gone now.

  He was all alone.

  And he had gotten turned around somehow. He had completely lost his bearings. Was he running toward the rendezvous right now, or was he moving away from it?

  He sniffed the air, trying desperately to pick up on the familiar scent of wolves moving through the trees so that he could follow it, but if there had been a trail here, it was long gone. The only thing he could smell was the smoke in the distance, rising from the remains of his pack’s territory, indicating that it was still burning.

  That—and the rotting fruit odor of the fae.

  Even though he was far away from the woman he had seen, he could still smell that aroma. He knew he would be able to find his way back to her without any trouble.

  The pack was gone. They would be nearly impossible to track now. And hours had gone by. They might not even be at the rendezvous point anymore.

  But it wasn’t too late to try to avenge Richard’s death.

  He had failed his packmate, but he could make things right. At least, he hoped he could do it.

  He crept forward again, moving faster this time but still on silent paws. His speed, endurance, and stealth were his greatest strengths as a wolf. He had no idea what strengths the fae had, and he didn’t know whether he had a chance of fighting the woman he had seen, but he would do his best. He would not allow the attack on his people tonight to go unpunished.

  2

  CEDRIC

  “He’s beautiful,” Cedric said quietly, reaching out to stroke the newborn baby’s soft pink cheek.

  Lacey, still exhausted from her labor and lying in his arms, beamed down at their son. Our son. It was still a little strange to think of the new baby as his, given that he had had nothing to do with his conception. Lacey had already been visibly pregnant when Cedric had met her and imprinted on her, changing both of
their lives forever.

  But her other mates—twin bears Bern and Dov and tiger Kane—had made it clear that that was the way things worked between them. All of Lacey’s mates shared equal paternity. The bears weren’t even completely sure which of them was technically the biological father of the child, and it didn’t matter. The five of them were parents together now.

  “Can I hold him?” Kane asked.

  “Of course you can,” Lacey said, passing him over. She did seem a little reluctant to give him up, but Cedric could hardly blame her for that. He was already aching to hold the baby too.

  Strange how much he already felt like a father.

  “He looks most like you,” Kane said. “Same eyes and nose. That’s Bern’s chin, though. Or Dov’s. Whichever. And the same stubby fingers.”

  “He doesn’t have stubby fingers!” Lacey protested, laughing.

  “Sure he does. Look how short they are.”

  “He’s just a baby! You’re awful. They’ll grow.”

  Kane passed the baby to Dov, who looked down at him. “I think he’s got your shifty eyes, Kane.”

  “Shifty eyes?”

  “Nobody has shifty eyes,” Lacey said. “Stop teasing. He’s perfect.”

  “We need a name for him,” Bern said. “We can’t keep calling him the baby.”

  Jean, Lacey’s witch friend who had acted as midwife during the delivery, looked from one of them to the next in surprise. “You don’t have a name picked out?”

  “I guess we never got around to it,” Lacey admitted.

  “We’ve just been sitting in the woods for months,” Jean said.

  “But we’ve had a lot of worries on our minds,” Lacey said. “These are dangerous times.”

  Cedric nodded. That was certainly true. He had run away from his clan to bring Lacey the news that his dragon alpha was leading them in an attempt to help the fae capture her baby once it was born. Of course, that news would have put a damper on the ability to enjoy such traditional pre-birth activities as coming up with a list of names.

  Still, he hadn’t anticipated that nobody would have anything ready.

  “Dov?” Lacey asked.

  Dov shrugged. “I never thought about it either,” he admitted. “We’ve been so busy with guard duty…”

  Bern looked slightly abashed. “All the time we put into making sure we had diapers and onesies, and we never did this. Poor kid. Born without a name.”

  “It’s not that big a deal,” Jean assured them. “Lots of parents haven’t settled on a name when their baby comes into the world. You’ll think of something.”

  Lacey nodded, but she looked a little worried, and Cedric thought he understood. It was hard enough for ordinary couples to agree on baby names. How would a group of five ever do it?

  And what if someone came up with a name he didn’t like? Could he really object to it, knowing that he wasn’t the baby’s biological parent?

  They had all agreed to share equal parenting rights and responsibilities. But what if things were different now that their son was here? What if Bern and Dov felt they were more entitled to be his fathers than Cedric was? Cedric didn’t know how he would argue with that, and yet he knew already that it would break his heart. The baby in Dov’s arms felt like his.

  Suddenly, he wanted to be the one to give his son his name. He wanted to contribute to the child’s identity in a way that was real and tangible, something that no one could ever detract from or question.

  “How about Aidan?” he asked.

  “Aidan,” Lacey repeated, musing.

  “It means flame,” he explained. Then, seeing a shadow cross Bern’s face, he added, “Not like a destructive flame. Flame in the sense of power. A little spark.”

  Dov nodded, gazing down at the baby in his arms. “I like Aidan,” he said. “Sounds like a firecracker.”

  “Works for me,” Kane agreed.

  Lacey held out her arms for the baby, and Dov handed him over. This time, Cedric’s gut didn’t churn with the same envy and longing. He would get his turn to hold his son. And they were going to use his name. Every time anyone addressed Aidan or spoke about him, they would recognize his claim, honoring his role as the baby’s father. Cedric might not have been there for Aidan’s conception, but today he was a part of something much more important.

  Lacey lifted Aidan slightly so that Cedric, reaching his arms down around her shoulders, could cradle him too. She smiled up at him with tears in her eyes, and Cedric thought that he had never seen her look so happy before in all the time he had known her.

  “Aidan,” she said quietly.

  “You like it?”

  “It’s perfect. Just like he is. How did you come up with that? Were you already thinking of it before today? Why didn’t you say something?”

  “No, I wasn’t,” he said. “It just came to me.”

  “Well, I love it,” Lacey said. “Aidan it is.”

  Aidan yawned and stretched in her arms, letting out a soft vocalization, and they all crowded around him. Bern offered a finger, and the baby’s tiny fist closed around it. Bern grinned. “Quite a grip on him. He’ll be a fighter one day.”

  “With all his fathers, I’m sure he will be the strongest shifter,” Lacey said. “But I hope he doesn’t grow up in the world we are living in now. I hope he doesn’t have to be a fighter.” She cuddled him closer as his eyes began to droop, and Cedric felt her relax into him and knew that she wasn’t far from falling asleep herself.

  3

  DOV

  “Are you sure you’re up for it?” Dov asked. “You know we don’t have to.”

  Lacey nodded. “I know,” she said. “But I want you. As long as we’re careful with what we do, everything should be all right.”

  “I can’t actually fuck you. Not until you’ve healed.”

  She smiled. “There are other things we can do for each other.”

  That was certainly the truth. And Dov couldn’t deny that he wanted those things. Still…it was less than twenty-four hours since their son had been born. Wasn’t it too soon for this?

  “I don’t know,” she said, almost as if she was answering his thought. “I can’t explain what’s going on with me, Dov. I’ve never really spoken to any shifters who have given birth before. Is this normal for us? Is it normal for me to be so turned on so soon?”

  “I have no idea,” Dov said.

  “But you wouldn’t leave me wanting.”

  “Tell me what you want.” He traced the line of her hip. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll tell you if it’s something I feel comfortable doing.”

  “I just want to be with you. I want to feel you.”

  “We can definitely do that.”

  “Kiss me.”

  His lips found her neck. Fuck, she smelled good. She always smelled so good.

  “I want your hands on me,” she said.

  He slid his hand up from her hip to her breast. She was so full, so much larger than she’d been when he had first met her. It was wildly hot. He moved his thumb over her nipple, which had also swollen up in the wake of her pregnancy, and she shivered and let out a moan of pleasure.

  “You could probably make me come like that,” she whispered. “Will you try?”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “I’m so fucking sensitive. And I need it, Dov. I need you.”

  He couldn’t say no to her. He didn’t even want to.

  He pulled her up to sit between his legs, guiding her to lean back against his chest. Now he could reach around to cup her breasts, to play with both of her nipples at the same time. She arched into his touch and moaned. “Fuck, Dov, yeah.”

  “This is good?” She would tell him if anything was uncomfortable for her. He had to rely on that.

  She was gasping. She nodded. “So good. Please don’t stop.”

  He could feel himself getting hard and thought that she could probably feel it too. Fuck, she was responsive. She was always responsive, but something a
bout pregnancy and childbirth must have woken up new levels of sensitivity in her body. At his slightest touch, she squirmed and moaned, and he felt dizzy just thinking about how wet she must be. He longed to fuck her.

  But it will keep. This is enough for today.

  He could see that she had been right. He was going to be able to make her come with these touches. It wasn’t even going to take that much effort.

  He pinched her nipples gently, then circled them. She was whining now, her head thrown back on his shoulder, her heels digging into the dirt.

  “You’re so hot,” he groaned. He was so hard now that it was impossible to imagine she couldn’t feel it. “Are you gonna come for me, baby?”

  “Yes—”

  With a cry of elation, she spasmed in his arms, and he pressed his palms to her breasts and held her against him until she lay still, gasping.

  Then she looked up at him. “I want you to fuck my mouth,” she said.

  “Lacey, you don’t have to—”

  “Please, Dov. I want to taste you. I want to feel you. I need it. Please.”

  It was all the invitation he needed. He turned and straddled her, lining himself up with her mouth.

  Lacey reached up and embraced his hips, pulling him close to her, kissing along the length of him before swallowing him.

  Dov groaned as she massaged the underside of his cock with her tongue. He rocked his hips slowly, not wanting to set a punishing pace but unable to resist the urge to fuck. She felt so good; it was as if his whole body was melting into her mouth.

  She gripped the meat of his ass and pulled him in deeper.

  “Lacey—”

  She hummed around him, and Dov saw stars. His knees began to shake.

  Lacey released him just long enough to look up at him and say, “I want you to fuck my mouth, Dov. I’m not going to break. Do it.”

  He didn’t have it in him to turn down a request like that. With a moan of resignation and desire, he thrust back into her warm, welcoming mouth, reveling in the feel of her soft lips on him, the stroke and curl of her tongue, the way she tipped her head back to accommodate him.