Moments In Time: A Collection of Short Fiction Read online

  “My alpha,” she whimpered in her sleep, and he grinned against her skin as he grunted through his finish inside her, hoping like hell his semen would override the birth control he’d seen in her bathroom.

  Then he took her spare key off the counter and left without saying good-bye.

  He found Dase and Reme standing out in front of her building, waiting for him.

  “You smell like bitch, boss,” Reme said, grinning. “Satisfied bitch.”

  He didn’t respond, just shoved the wolf out of his way and climbed in the Hummer.

  “Back to the hotel?” Dase asked.

  “Home,” he grunted.

  His beta raised his brows and shared a look with Reme. “Did you kill her?”

  He snarled at him. “No.”

  Both wolves looked confused. “You’re letting her stay here?”

  “For now,” Grey hissed. “Now shut the fuck up and get us home.”

  • • •

  For the next month Shayanne was a trembling, neurotic mess, just going through the motions as she waited for the next full moon. She reread Grey’s note as often as possible, where he described in explicit detail exactly what he was going to do to her during mating heat, and she blushed furiously each time she read it. How could a simple note make her feel like a teenager with a crush?

  It was all so confusing. Three days of sex was hardly foreign to her, but the feelings these particular three days had stirred up inside her were. And then there was the guilt, or the lack of guilt in this case. Nothing about what she’d done with Grey made her feel guilty or dirty like she had each time during the full moon for the past eight years.

  The more time that passed since he’d left, the more she found herself less focused on her life in the city, her job, and her friends. She declined all social invitations, preferring to be alone, spending her nights and weekends dreaming of what was to come when Grey finally returned to her.

  To think she’d once been worried about such paltry things, like Nic and the consequences of sleeping with him. She was so consumed with thoughts of Grey, she could hardly manage to do her job, let alone find time to be embarrassed by a lone weekend spent with a human who meant nothing to her.

  And while Nic seemed to be unable to get past the fact that she wanted nothing more to do with him, always brooding silently in her presence, she was no longer embarrassed by it. In fact, if anything, it was laughable.

  Poor Nic wasn’t even a blip on her radar.

  It was all about Grey.

  And the more she thought about Grey, she began to miss him, and the more she missed him, the more she found herself wondering what he was doing. As she wondered, she envisioned him living his life in his pack, and she found herself wishing she were there with him. By his side, in his bed, running through the woods. As more time passed, and her feelings, her yearnings worsened, she found herself thinking of pups. Often she would place her hands on her flat stomach, imagining it swollen with her children. It was a fearsome thought, yet strangely erotic, and even . . . somewhat fulfilling.

  She’d never thought to be a mother. For so long she’d been solely focused on making a successful human life for herself. But now, since Grey had come back into her life, everything was changing. For better or worse, she didn’t yet know.

  When the first stirrings of mating heat began she was at her desk at work, clenching her thighs together, hoping, praying that Grey was going to make good on his note. She no longer wanted a human male, could no longer stomach the thought of a human in her bed. Her wolf wanted a wolf and ever since Grey, she seemed to only want what her wolf wanted. Eight years of repression had been ruined by one weekend of sex with her wolf husband that she hardly knew. She should care about that.

  But she didn’t.

  She wanted Grey.

  “Lillian?”

  Glancing up from her computer, she found Nic standing in her office doorway, looking none too happy. “Yes?” she asked, still distracted by her thoughts.

  “There’s a man in reception asking for you.”

  Shayanne’s heart leaped at the same time her body did. Her chair fell backward and she rushed past Nic and loped into the hallway, skidding to a stop when she found Grey in the reception area. Leaning back against a wall, his arms folded over his chest, Grey trained his yellow eyes on her. Seeing her excitement, no doubt smelling her arousal, his nostrils began to flare, and the corner of his ruined mouth turned up.

  Yay! Mating time!

  “Lil,” Nic hissed in her ear. “Who is that guy? He looks like he just escaped from prison!”

  Yes. Yes, yes, yes. He did. So yummy.

  Trying to maintain her composure, something that was growing infinitely harder with each step taken in Grey’s direction, she waved halfheartedly at the woman behind the reception desk. “See you tomorrow,” she yelled, grabbing Grey’s arm. “Have a great night!”

  “It’s only noon! Lil? Lillian!”

  She ignored the shouting and once outside, jumped into Grey’s arms and buried her face in his neck. Growling, Grey wrapped his arms around her and carried her quickly down the sidewalk. The next thing she knew, she was being tossed inside his Hummer.

  Aside from the two of them, the vehicle was empty. “Where’s your entourage?” Shayanne asked breathlessly as Grey pushed her backward onto the floor of the vehicle and yanked off her dress pants.

  “Not here,” he growled.

  They both groaned as he swiftly entered her.

  “Shayanne,” he mumbled, burying his face in her neck.

  Breath shuddered from her lungs. “Say it again,” she whispered.

  He lifted his head, just enough to look down at her. “What?”

  “My name,” she said, her voice cracking. “Say my real name again.”

  His features lit with understanding and his mouth curved into a warm smile.

  “Shayanne,” he said softly, almost reverently.

  She couldn’t help herself, hearing her name—her real name—while in the arms of a wolf, her wolf, she fell apart and burst into tears.

  • • •

  Several hours later, back at Shayanne’s apartment, they were seated on the couch, sharing a pizza. Or rather, Grey was sitting on her couch, and she was sitting on his cock and feeding him pizza.

  “Not what I had in mind when I asked you to dinner,” he rasped as she rocked back and forth over top of him.

  Why did he want to go out to dinner? This was mating heat. Dinner was optional.

  “It’s mating heat,” she whispered. “I need as much of you as possible before I have to go without.”

  The thought of him leaving, of going another month without him, had her panicking. And once she started to panic and her panic combined with mating heat, she began to shift.

  Seeing this, Grey’s eyes went instantly yellow and the bones beneath his skin rippled as they cracked and re-formed.

  Shayanne’s breath caught. He was so powerful, not just physically but overall. He was a born alpha, a wolf through and through.

  “You’re incredible,” she said breathlessly. And he really was. His scars, she decided in that instant, were sexy as hell. Without them, he’d be just another good-looking wolf with an ego the size of the Rockies. With them, he wasn’t just an alpha, he was an alpha who deserved the title.

  “Who am I, Shayanne?” he growled softly, his voice thick as he continued shifting.

  “My alpha,” she panted.

  “Good girl,” he growled, and his praise as her alpha rippled over her skin like a soft caress, causing her to whine in response, wanting more.

  He leaned forward, grabbing her arms, holding her still as he nuzzled her cheek with his scarred one.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  “Your mate,” she breathed, feeling a foreign excitement growing inside her belly. Something was happening to her, something that had nothing to do with sex or mating heat, but she knew instinctively had everything to do with the wolf inside her, th
e wolf who over the last month had been making herself known in all facets of Shayanne’s life.

  “My mate,” he repeated, his chest heaving, his eyes gleaming.

  My God, something was happening, something she couldn’t control, nor did she want to.

  “Yes,” she cried softly, grinding her hips over his. “I’m your mate.”

  Grey’s face had gone almost entirely wolf and with a sudden feral roar, Shayanne found herself flat on her back on the floor, Grey on top of her, his muzzle wide open, his fangs dripping with saliva.

  His strong jaws clamped down on her shoulder, piercing straight through her skin and digging deep into muscle. Shayanne went instantly still, her body fell limp, and her mind went blank. There was no pain, only pleasure and . . . power. There was so much power. Grey’s power entering her body, seeping into her veins, mixing with her blood and whooshing through her body, taking over, taking her over.

  Releasing her, Grey rose to his feet, his features shifting back to human. Darkly possessive yellow eyes raked up and down her body.

  “Stand up,” he ordered. The direct order washed over her like a tsunami, permeating every pore in her skin, infiltrating her.

  Claiming her.

  She was on her feet almost instantly, waiting with anticipation for what he would say next.

  Grey’s eyes were positively gleaming. “It’s time to go home, Shayanne,” he rumbled proudly. “To stand by my side, where you belong.”

  Shayanne nodded jerkily as the heady haze of power that had numbed her own rational thoughts began to fade and the realization of what had just happened took hold inside her.

  “You claimed me,” she whispered, feeling her eyes burn with threatening tears. “You claimed me—how were you able to claim me?”

  He stepped forward and she instantly took a step backward, her thoughts spinning with the fear of her future, of pack life, of becoming nothing but a breeder, a mindless minion to her master.

  Is that what she wanted? Her wolf had become so predominant in her life so suddenly, she had no idea what she, as a human being, wanted. And not knowing what she wanted or how she really felt scared her more than anything.

  “Freeze,” Grey barked and she froze, not because she wanted to but because she had no other choice. Grey was her mate, her mate and her alpha. She belonged to him now, body and soul, and he would do as he pleased—love her or hate her, please her or punish her—she was his.

  “I had a plan,” he said as he advanced on her. “I was going to claim you as a human male would his mate. I was going to take you out, buy you stupid shit, do whatever it took to make you mine.”

  Her tears overflowed and fell down her cheeks. That was no longer necessary. All Grey had to do now to get her to do as he pleased was order her to do so, and she would have no choice but to obey him.

  “But now,” he said softly, stopping directly in front of her. “I don’t need to, do I?”

  Shayanne lifted her arm, covering her mouth with her hand in an attempt not to openly sob in front of him. Grey’s large hands came down on her bare shoulders, squeezing gently.

  “I can feel your pain,” he continued, sounding surprised, “and your fear. We are that connected. I never knew . . . I never knew how this would feel. How complete I would feel.”

  Shayanne said nothing and turned her face away from him, dreading what was to come next.

  “Shayanne,” he said gently, yet still with force. “Look at me.”

  She had no choice but to look at him. Releasing her arms, he cupped her face between his hands.

  “I’ll give you your freedom back, Shayanne. I will never use my power over you, or against you. I give you my word as your alpha.”

  Shayanne blinked owlishly up at him. He would do that? For her?

  Grey smiled kindly. “On one condition.”

  “What?” she whispered.

  “That you come home with me, as my mate, to take your place in our pack as my alpha female, to lead the others . . . to see your father again. The rest of your life will be yours, and ours, to decide.”

  Surprise froze her in place. “My father?” she whispered. “He’s with your pack?”

  Grey nodded and her surprise bled to excitement and warmth. Her father. She’d longed to talk with him, to hear his voice just one more time. But to actually see him, to wrap her arms around him, and once again feel the love she’d always equated to home . . . again?

  She was so torn, but even torn she knew there was no choice to be made. To see her father again, to let her beast run free? Both parts of her, human and wolf, were dizzy with excitement at the mere prospect. “Yes,” she breathed. “Yes.”

  Grinning, Grey crushed her body to his. “Who am I?” he asked.

  Shayanne braced herself but then . . . felt no compulsion. He hadn’t used his power over her.

  “My alpha,” she whispered. More tears formed, happy or sad, she couldn’t tell. Maybe both. She was feeling so much, the loss of her human life, thoughts of her father, the embrace of the wolf she’d long suppressed and ignored, and Grey, she was most definitely feeling Grey. It was all so overwhelming, but overwhelming in the most beautiful way. Through her tears a smile began to form. She pressed her face into Grey’s hard and unyielding chest, the chest of an alpha, strong and sure, and yet embodying comfort.

  “Who are you?” he asked again without his authority.

  “Your alpha,” she whispered.

  There was a moment of silence, and then . . . Grey burst out laughing.

  Shayanne knew then she was exactly where she belonged.

  About the Author

  Madeline Sheehan is the USA Today best-selling author of the Holy Trinity Trilogy and Undeniable Series. A Social Distortion enthusiast, Madeline was homegrown in Buffalo, New York, where she resides with her husband and son.

  Madeline can be found on social media at:

  Facebook: Madeline Sheehan Books

  Twitter: @MSheehanBooks

  Website: www.madelinesheehan.com

  Books by Madeline Sheehan include:

  The Holy Trinity Series

  The Soul Mate

  My Soul To Take

  The Lost Souls

  My Heart and Soul (coming in 2014)

  The Undeniable Series

  Undeniable

  UnBeautifully

  UnAttainable

  UnBeloved (coming in 2014)

  The Benson

  by Karina Halle

  Ghost hunters investigate a hotel rumored to be haunted, and discover more than they bargained for.

  (previously published as part of the Experiment in Terror Series)

  I have never been inside the Benson Hotel before. Looking back, it’s kind of weird since I’ve lived in Portland my whole life, but I guess there are a lot of things in your city you never see. Not the way the tourists do.

  Tonight, though, I decided I would be a tourist. Having a camera at my side would certainly help in that pretense. I smile up at the doorman as I make my way up the sidewalk, pausing briefly at the bronze plaque on the ground as I have many times before when walking throughout downtown, and then timidly walk up the steps inside.

  “Good evening and welcome to the Benson, ma’am,” the doorman says to me, cheery enough in his fancy gold-gilded uniform. Still, I feel like he’s judging me and what I’m wearing—my Doc Martens still muddy from the morning’s rainfall, my maroon leggings with a hole in them, and a scuffed leather jacket. I’m obviously not a guest here, not at one of the most prestigious hotels in the state of Oregon.

  I give him a tight smile and walk past him into the revolving doors, which sweep me inside. The lobby is surprisingly busy for nine p.m., as there’s a line at the vast checkout counter a few people deep, and the bar/lounge to the right of me is crammed full of swanky patrons swilling martinis. I barely have time to take in the understated grandeur and opulence of the lobby—which totally reminds me of the golden age of Hollywood—before a waving movement brings
my attention to the bar again.

  In the corner, swilling what can only be a Jack Daniels and Coke, is Dex. Actually, he’s not swilling it. Rather, downing it in fast gulps, and as soon as he sees he’s caught my attention, he waves the prim waitress over and orders another one.

  I swallow hard, feeling all sorts of strange feelings rush through my body. I’m nervous, I already was, but I’m excited, too, and though my breath catches slightly when I see him, it eventually flows out all hot, ragged, and sparkling with nerves.

  I haven’t seen Dex since we parted ways at the airport in Albuquerque. It wasn’t long ago, but it still makes me feel like I’m going on a first date all over again. Not that we ever were dating and not that (considering his girlfriend, Jenn) we ever would. But I can’t help the way I feel. Stupid. And in love with my partner.

  Giving him a smile, broad and completely natural, I make my way to where he’s sitting at a small table just big enough for two covered with a white tablecloth. Before I reach his side, I wonder if he’s going to hug me and before I can finish the thought, he stands up, stepping around the table. I am quickly enveloped into his arms. He smells like Old Spice and a bit like the hand-rolled cigarettes he picked up in New Mexico. His arms are strong and firm around my back. The hug is close, tight, and genuine. I relax slightly, wishing we were somewhere else and not in this busy lounge where people watch us with disinterest.

  I’m the first to pull away, though I could have stayed in his arms all night. I give him the once-over now that I’m up close.

  Dex looks pretty much as he did in New Mexico. The cuts on his face from the shape-shifter’s attack are faded; his moustache has been trimmed, almost gone, as is the scruffy beard under his chin. His eyebrow ring glints from his black brow. His cheekbones are high, perhaps higher than before. I take another step back and see that he’s lost a little weight. It shows in his face most of all.

  “Checking me out again?” he says, his voice low, his lips snaking to the side in a smirk. There’s something off about him, but I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s because, despite the closeness of the hug, there’s an awkward distance between us, like we aren’t sure how to act around each other now that the skinwalkers (you know, the evil shamans who can shapeshift at will) we encountered and us sharing a bed for a few nights are gone. We both almost died in New Mexico—I know it had an impact on us, but it doesn’t seem to have any bearing here in the swanky Benson hotel.