Hidden Wolves book 2
by
He'd rather fight enemy wolves and rogue humans than face his own heart.
When Aaron took down a violent, power-crazed wolf and inherited half a pack, he knew being Alpha wasn't going to be easy. A week later, he's finding out what an understatement that was. Other werewolves are calling for the extermination of his pack's gay wolf, or for Aaron's own death, and the risk of exposure to humans is growing.
Aaron can't afford to let his long-suppressed sexuality escape his rigid control. When one of his younger wolves is in trouble, it's simply Aaron's job as Alpha to help and protect him. But keeping a cool distance from a young man who appeals to all his senses could be Aaron's toughest challenge.
(This is a rerelease of the 2012 original with light editing. Content warning for substance abuse, some violence.)
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Publisher: Independently Published
Editors:
Cover Artists:
Genres:
Pairings: M-M
Heat Level: 4
Romantic Content: 4
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Gay
Protagonist 1 Age: 18-25
Protagonist 2 Age: 36-45
Tropes: Age Difference, Alpha Character, Coming Out / Closeted, Forbidden Love, Hurt / Comfort, Opposites Attract
Word Count: 100000
Setting: Minneapolis
Languages Available: English
Series Type: Same Universe / Various Characters
I rubbed my face briskly, sat up in my chair, and laid my hands flat on the desk. This was no time to be indulging myself. When you’re the Alpha of a werewolf pack, even a pack as small and non-traditional as mine, you have to be Alpha. No doubts, no worries, at least where the lower-ranked wolves can see you. I’d been faking that all week, ever since pack leadership had fallen into my hands.
Since I ripped pack dominance from Karl’s bleeding, dying body.
A rap on the door startled me, then the door flung open before I could respond. Vincent rushed in. His normal air of detached amusement was replaced with a frown. “Aaron, there’s trouble at Simon’s.”
READ MORE“Damn.” I leaped up immediately. “Local wolves?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you know who or how many?”
“Nope.”
“Who’s on guard duty?”
“Andy.”
“Son-of-a-bitch.” That was only a figure of speech. There are no female werewolves. If there were, maybe we’d have a more relaxed attitude about sex and reproduction, and this whole mess wouldn’t be happening.
I didn’t mean the phrase as an insult to Andy either. He was just the wrong person to be on deck for any kind of trouble. Young, submissive, and easygoing, Andy had the softest personality of any of my wolves. And if anyone hurts him and I catch up to them, they’re going to be eating through a straw for a month, werewolf healing or not.
“Do you want me with you?” Vincent asked eagerly. The old wolf had been a surprise addition to my pack. I hadn’t expected any of the seniors to come my way. He’d appointed himself my secretary and was so useful I had no desire to depose him, even though secretly I thought he decided to be mine mainly out of boredom. Joining my pack gave him a ringside seat at the circus. Some people weren’t made for retirement.
Unfortunately, Vincent also wasn’t above stirring up a little extra excitement, just to see what happened. That was the last thing I needed. “No. Stay here. Call Joshua and tell him I’m about to come down on some wolf of his. Again.”
Vincent made a face. He’d have preferred the chance of a fight over having to call the no doubt pissed-off Alpha of a now-separate pack. Especially since Joshua was too dour for Vincent to have much fun riling him up. But as my secretary, he’d make the call, and— I gave him a hard glare until he dropped his eyes and bent his head— he would control his impulse to be snide. I left him subdued, pulling out his phone.
Simon rented a small house with a white-fenced yard. Bushes and lawn set the building back far enough from the neighbors for privacy, which was turning out to be a good thing. This wasn’t our first go-round with trouble.
When I pulled in the driveway, four men stood at the front steps. On the bottom stair, a stocky, brown-haired man with a reddened face glared upward. He looked in his late thirties, but I knew he was sixty-six. I also knew he was short-tempered, right-handed, of barely average intelligence, and as violently homophobic as they come. Dan. Shit.
COLLAPSE
