Feral Breed Fight Club
Some debts can only be paid in blood.
Claiming His Chance
The Feral Breed Fight Club Series kicks off with one heck of a fight…
After a long year of tragedy and battles, Cahill of the Southern Appalachia pack is hoping to spend a little time alone on his mountain. But with no mate to worry about, the safety of the pack falls on his shoulders, as does paying off the guards he’d hired to keep the mountain safe while he was away. Protecting the pack means heading off to participate in an underground fight club where shifters take to the ring for fame, fortune, and debt repayment. A ring some don’t make it out of alive.
To the owners and fighters at The Pack House, Trinity and Piers seem like any other mated couple. And that’s exactly what she needs them to think. Years of running from the truth has set Piers on a path headed right into the fight cage, and Trinity has followed, even though the violence and the noise are something out of her nightmares. But the two have plans, and a handful of fights is all that stands between them reaching their dreams and banishment…or death.
When Cahill sets his sights on Trinity, nothing can stand in the way of the fighter getting his fated mate. Not the heavy debt his pack must repay, not the other fighters out to show him who’s stronger and more skilled in the ring, not even the possibility that she may be mated to another. Once a fighter, always a fighter—and Cahill’s more determined than ever to throw a knockout punch for the chance of a real win with the woman of his dreams.
The World Tilted
The woman from the hallway stood at the edge of the ring, almost dwarfed by the half-naked man practically wrapped around her. Her deep blue gown sparkled under the low lights, making her shimmer in a way that seemed almost angelic. But the low-cut neckline and the way the fabric hugged her was pure sin. She was a rose in the middle of this pile of garbage, a flower growing through the crack in cement. And when she looked up at me, her brown eyes meeting mine for the first time, my entire world tilted.
My wolf snarled loud and harsh, wanting to move closer, to knock that fucker’s arm off our mate. And she was our mate. I knew it the second our eyes met, felt the connection to her. And by the way her painted lips fell open and her eyes went wide, she knew it, too.
I had taken one step in her direction when I sensed Beadan come closer. Images flashed in my mind—my mate with that man’s arm around her, the younger of my twin sisters laughing as she ran away from me that last night, a fierce witch standing up to the worst of our kind with a bravery I admired. And falling dead at her enemy’s feet anyway.
My response was natural, automatic…completely inhuman. My wolf saw Beadan as a threat to our mate, and that just wouldn’t do. I turned with a snarl, swinging my arm in an upward arc, the full weight of my body behind it. My fist connected with Beadan’s chin, knocking him backward in a cloud of blood spray. He fell to the mat like a rag doll, unconscious. I loomed over him, pumped up, ready to defend my mate against the threat he had posed, my human side trying to edge through the curtain of animal rage in front of me.
“Hey, Tidal,” a trainer yelled from the other side of the ring. “How about you keep that mate of yours tied up in your bed, yeah? She’s upsetting the hormones of the new guys.”
My head swam, nothing making sense as I stared after the woman who’d just sent my whole world off the edge. Tidal was mated to my mate… But how could that be? I knew of triads, of course—hell, I’d seen Moira and her two mates interacting at Merriweather Fields—but I’d felt nothing but rage toward the muscle-bound shifter who’d held my mate. And she was mine, I knew it. Could feel it all the way down to my toes. But who the hell was he, and why did people think they were mated?
Claiming His Prize
Dragons don’t play well with others…
Dragon-shifter Piers has been fighting at The Pack House—an underground MMA-style fight ring for shifters—for months. He’s bested every opponent, won every prize, except the attention of the hot female doctor he can’t get off his mind.
Doctor Jane patches up shifters to keep her father safe, a fate not of her choosing. She’d be okay with her lot in life if it weren’t for the handsome dragon shifter with the charming smile she can’t stop thinking about.
When another dragon claims Jane as his mate, Piers will have to fight to the death to save her from a fate she didn’t choose. But the biggest obstacle in his way isn’t the fire-breathing dragon set on claiming what isn’t his, but the doctor herself who might choose duty over everything else. Maybe even him.
Scales will fly, hisses will sound, and dragons will take to the sky, but only one will end up with the ultimate prize: love.
A Moment Of Consent
“All right, Tidal. I’m going to take some blood just to check a few things.”
She froze, her head cocked, an adorably confused expression on her face. “What about it?”
“Well, if I’m not allowed to touch you without consent, I feel it should be reciprocal.”
“But I’ve been touching you.”
I raised an eyebrow and waved a hand over my hips. “And I liked it, obviously. More than I think you want me to. But this is different. This is my blood. And when it comes to dragons, our blood is sacred. We don’t spill it for just anyone.”
She was quiet for a long moment before she finally gave me a nod. “May I have your consent to examine your blood, Tidal?”
“Piers.” I refused to look away even as her eyebrows winged up in surprise. “If you want to see the inside of me, you should at least use my given name. I’m Piers.”
Another pause, but her eyebrows had dropped back into place and her eyes were still on mine. All things I considered good signs of progress between us.
She raised her chin, looking so damned fierce as she asked, “May I have your consent, Piers?”
“Of course. For anything.”
Jane stared into my eyes for an extended moment, seeing something there that made her smile. “This won’t hurt.”
“Doc, I have a feeling anything you do to me is going to hurt. It just depends on if it’s the sort of pain I like or not.”
Claiming His Grace
One plus one equals two…or sometimes three
Wolf shifter Beadan fought at the now-defunct southern Pack House with solid results, so when the opportunity arises for him to continue his career in the ring at another location, he jumps at it. He’s still on the hunt for his one true mate to take home with him, so easy money and being surrounded by people seems like a good plan.
Avory’s a single mom with a dream—one that requires money. She comes to The Pack House to make that dream come true for her and her daughter Livia, not expecting anything other than a few fights, a few wins, and some cash in her pocket. What she definitely isn’t expecting is to meet her fated mate the second she walks in the door.
Navigating those newly mated waters is tricky for everyone, but throw a six-year-old who loves unicorn marshmallow cereal into the mix, and all bets are off. The two adults in the relationship are going to have to make a few adjustments to accommodate their littlest priority. But adjustments aren’t all that’s needed when the other fighters figure out the two have a weakness no one else in the club does…and her name is Livia.
The World Tilted
“Gentlemen!” Mick yelled from across the gym, staring hard at each of us in turn. “The Pack House is now welcoming female fighters into our rings.”
A collective groan sounded from around the gym, but I stayed silent. Kept watching. Why couldn’t I look away?
Mick wasn’t done yet, though. “These shewolves are here to fight and make me money, not to be entertainment for all of you. Mind your dicks and keep your hands off my merchandise, or I’ll bury you myself. Understood?”
I nodded, unable not to. Still staring across the room toward where the women were being escorted to the far training rings. As they broke apart, I kept my eyes on one in particular. On a shewolf with reddish-brown hair tied up in a ball thing on top of her head. She wore a baggy sweatshirt, gray shorts, and an expression of total, uninterruptible focus. Aggressive was how I would have described her. The second her eyes danced past mine, though, that word reset to a more important one.
My wolf practically stood up and howled, my entire body zeroing in on hers. I changed my stance, facing her fully, staring as her jaw clenched and her eyes narrowed. Looking flat-out mean. Was she going to make this difficult on me? Make me work to break that tough outer shell before giving in to me? Fuck, I hoped so. I loved a good challenge.
When she finally moved again, it was to bend down and talk to someone I couldn’t see. Someone blocked by the trainers. Her body language shifted, her face softening as she said words I couldn’t hear. When she was finished, she rose to her full height again and gave me a look that could have stripped paint off the walls. She spun around, moving toward the ring. Obviously about to do some sparring of her own. My eyes dropped to the person she’d been chatting with as the others around the ring moved. The one who had brought forth the kinder, softer shewolf. I was curious to know more about my new mate, about who could make her drop her guard. About who she cared for. So, I looked, and I waited to get a solid eyeful. And I…
Is that a…child?