Page 1 of Claiming Lyla

Chapter One

Lyla Chatham bent over from the stabbing pain in her side, pausing beside the ancient oak tree under whose branches she’d played as a cherished child of her father, the alpha of their pack. Senses heightened, she focused on the sounds around her—especially the running footsteps of the hunters who had spread out through the forest to pursue her. Her breath came in shuddering pants, and she strained to control the sounds, knowing every noise could give her away, could betray her weakness to those who would take that which she valued most.

Her freedom.

Despite the dark of night, she wasn't lost, having grown up here, roamed and hunted, protected and safe, until her father died in a fiery car crash a couple of years ago. Now, her brother, Scott, had taken over the leadership of their pack, and everything had changed.

A howl came from somewhere behind her and slightly to the left. Then an answering one sounded on the right. They were herding her to capture her in order to claim her. To fuck her. She knew the forest but, in the darkness, and with her own pack against her, there was no sanctuary. The city might offer protection for a while, muddy her scent, but it was miles away, and the chances of her making it that far was a long shot. Besides, the vampires were there, and they had an alliance with her brother, at least the ones who bent the laws.

It didn’t matter because she’d never make it anyway. She didn't have just one alpha chasing her. Her brother had offered her up to five, with the winner claiming her as mate, provided he kept her silent about her brother’s illegal actions.

A Claiming Rite. Rarely done outside of the traditional packs, and mostly in the old country, never in America—at least not in the last hundred years. Not since the wars ended and pure-blooded shifter females, like her, became precious. None of the five who chased her were suitors her father had considered suitable mates, but her brother didn't care much about that. He only cared about the money they paid for her and if they could control her.

The cramp in her side eased, and she straightened. She wouldn't be trapped among the trees. She'd make her stand in the meadow where she’d changed for the first time. She’d pray to the goddess that she and the ancestors would lend her their strength and support. She took off at a run, refusing to shift, even though she could run faster on four paws than two. An alpha could force her to shift back to human form, and when she shifted, she'd be naked. Lyla didn't want to make anything easier for him.

She paused on the edge of the meadow, where the moonlight shone bright as daylight. The howls had grown fainter, so her false trail had fooled some of the alphas.

She scented the air and didn't detect anything other than remnant odors from the pack’s last hunt. Cautiously, she emerged. She'd been secretly trained by her father's second, who’d conveniently been killed in a car accident just before her father's death. She could hold her own. Not forever against five alphas and their seconds, but well enough to maybe hurt them. It might make the claiming worse, but she didn't care anymore. She wouldn't go quietly to her fate, not Lyla Chatham. She would rage at it.

"Looking for someone, princess?"

* * *

Duncan MacKinnon stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlit meadow, silently cursing the fates that brought the current situation down upon them. Although, staring at the slender, honey-colored vision surrounded by pale light, his body had different ideas rather than facing the clusterfuck about to descend on him and the innocent shifter female standing defiantly in the clearing. Lyla Chatham, the pure-blood daughter of the Chatham Pack, stared at him, her head tilted a little to match his height, her hazel eyes meeting his in a direct challenge. Despite her defiance, he sensed a hint of underlying fear, only natural for a female in an unwanted Claiming Rite, but her resistance was going to make his job more difficult. Howls rose in the distance; the sound of pursuing alphas having caught her scent. Lyla was running out of time.

He let his gaze run up and down her, noting the torn and dirty white blouse that exposed a flash of lace underneath and the streaks of mud on the fitted denim jeans and the sneakers. An outfit that gave her at least a chance to flee. However, facing down five alphas and their seconds, all herding her toward a forced claiming…? No female would beat those odds.

His cock stirred, the erection he'd grown accustomed to living with since he'd come to the Chatham Pack a few weeks ago under orders to investigate the pack and their alpha, making itself known. He’d been ordered to stay away from her, as had all males, by the pack alpha, her brother, but Duncan had made it his business to observe her unseen, and had been living with the low state of arousal ever since he’d caught a scent of her on the wind. The skin around his wrists burned as if scalded by hot water, and yet, if he had looked, he wouldn't see any injuries. But he might see something far more dangerous, and it scared the hell out of him, especially right now with the danger surrounding them. But the burning could also be their salvation.

Lyla folded her arms in front of her, a defensive gesture, closing herself off from him, while plumping up her full breasts so they strained against the lace. "What do you want?"

He cocked his head at the howls growing closer. "You don't have much time, or much of a choice, sweetheart. You either deal with me or them. And trust me, I'm the lesser of your evils."

A laugh broke from her throat, a raw, harsh sound that held no humor. "I'd prefer none of you. Why can't you leave me alone, you bastards? You want me to just roll over and spread my legs like a good little bitch. Well, fuck that."

He winced at her harsh tone and steeled himself. A breeze picked up her scent and tickled his senses with it, and his cock hardened further, painfully. His wrists burned hotter under the skin, prickling like a thousand fine needles that made him want to scratch an itch. Nothing would appease the sensation, he feared. He cursed under his breath.Fuck. Not the best time to find his mate. Not here. Not in this goddamn situation. This night had just gone to shit, and now the bonds were pulling him in even tighter.

He advanced on her until he was just a few feet away, letting her scent wash over him—magnolias and feminine anger, along with an underlying bloom of arousal as he invaded her space. His inner wolf appreciated her strength, her resolve in not backing down, and wanted to roll in her arousal and sate himself in her pussy. But the other side of himself, the more practical one, wished she’d kept running until she’d found an escape, even though he knew she'd never find one. Running excited the inner wolf, and fighting excited the human side. The alphas who were coming were known for their brutality, and she would pay—unless he could convince her to work with him.

Then his real challenge would begin, a personal one. But business first.

"I don't need you to submit. I'm not here at your brother's behest. I'm here for you."

She narrowed her gaze. "So are they."

He loomed over her, anger burning in his belly, his wolf growling low. "I'm not like them."

She cocked her hip and met his gaze without a care for the dominance he knew shone in his eyes. "Prove it."

He stifled a grin. Cocky bitch. "You can't stand against all of them. You need an ally."

She held up her hands and looked around the empty meadow. "I don't see anyone here." She looked him up and down, derisively. "You think you can take on all of them yourself and save little ol' me?"

He smirked at her southern drawl. "From what I hear, you can handle yourself. They have to abide by the rules for the Claiming Rite. If we enforce those rules, then we might be able to get through this."

Suspicion darkened her dark eyes. "What rules?"

"Claiming Rites are illegal without the Council or a Council rep on hand to observe, to ensure the female isn’t harmed and accepts the decision."

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