Killian's Claim

Published by Evernight Publishing at Smashwords

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2014 Tyler Robbins

ISBN: 978-1-77130-725-3

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: Karyn White

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

For my beautiful daughters, Brittany and Crystal.

Thank you for believing in me as much as much as I believe in you. You both amaze me daily with your feisty attitudes, and big hopes and dreams. Don’t let fear of the unknown hold you back. If you want it, call on that alpha female you both possess, and go get it!!

KILLIAN’S CLAIM

Call of the Wolf, 2

Tyler Robbins

Copyright © 2014

Chapter One

Quinn Kelly flipped up the collar to his leather jacket as a bitter chill whirled around him, so cold it stung the tender flesh around his ears. He leaned against the brick exterior of the café where he’d bussed tables and washed dishes the last two months.

Not his first career choice, but one that provided a little food and a temporary roof over his head. Most nights he preferred roaming the streets in search of something … anything really. Anything that would put an end to the incessant gnawing in his gut and the restless need in his body to run.

He hadn’t always lived this way, hand to mouth, never knowing where he’d lay his head next, but this was his life now and he’d made the best of it.

The back screen door to the kitchen slammed beside him, and he jumped.

Sorry, man. Larry, one of the cooks, held his hands up and grinned with an unlit cigarette pressed between his lips. Didn’t mean to scare ya’. He cupped his hand around a lighter and lit the cigarette.

Quinn shrugged it off. Got another smoke, man?

Yeah, sure. Larry held out the crumpled pack.

Quinn slipped one out as Larry leaned in and offered him a light.

The initial sting from the smoke entering the back of his throat quickly dissipated, and Quinn inhaled deeper. He didn’t even smoke, but he liked the initial rush of nicotine running through his veins. Most people wouldn’t even notice it, but Quinn wasn’t like most people. Thanks, man. White smoke lingered in the air between them as they each exhaled.

It’s colder than a snowman’s balls out here, ain’t it? Larry shivered, closing his opened jacket.

Quinn nodded.

The other man eyed him up and down. You sure don’t talk much.

Quinn cocked a brow and shrugged.

That’s cool. The tall, lanky man was around thirty, and Quinn could tell he’d lived an interesting life. A dark green and red dragon tattoo took up the left side of his neck, and both forearms were nearly covered in a variety of other beautifully illustrated works of art. A thin goatee gave him an ominous look, but from what Quinn had seen so far, Larry was as laid back as they came. Nothing menacing about him at all.

You plannin’ on sticking around town for a while?

Haven’t decided yet. Quinn took another drag on the cigarette.

You should come over to Molly’s with us later tonight and shoot some pool. My girl’s gonna be there. A boyish grin spread across his mouth. She could always invite one of her friends… He waggled his brow.

Quinn’s cheeks heated. Nah, man. Think I’ll have to pass.

Larry nodded and flicked his cigarette off to the side. Red-hot embers scattered on impact with the pavement, but were quickly extinguished by a gust of wind. That’s cool.

An uncomfortable air fell between them, and Quinn felt like a jerk. Larry was being nice, so why did he have to be such an ass? He cleared his throat. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll drop by.

Larry expression brightened. Cool. He opened the back door. Better get back to work. You comin’?

Nah, my shift’s over. I’m about head out.

See ya’ tonight, man.

Quinn nodded as Larry disappeared through the door. He should have gone home as soon as his shift ended, but now he’d have to make an appearance at Molly’s later. He didn’t mind a game of pool, but the idea of Larry’s girlfriend bringing a friend for him didn’t sound appealing at all. Unless, of course, the friend had a five o’clock shadow and an Adam’s apple.

He laughed to himself, amused by how people automatically assume someone’s sexuality without hesitation. It didn’t really bother him, though. He hadn’t intentionally hidden his penchant for men. He just hadn’t known anyone well enough to mention it.

Quinn crushed out his cigarette then removed the dirty apron from around his waist. As it was still early enough for the run he’d been craving, he headed for the woods behind the café. He stopped about twenty yards beyond the tree line, scanned his surroundings then quickly undressed and draped his clothes over a fallen tree.

Certain he hadn’t been spotted, Quinn took a deep breath, closed his eyes and allowed his body to shift into his true form. Something he hadn’t done in weeks, but today the urge was all he’d thought about, his need too strong to resist. He wouldn’t get through the night if he didn’t give in. Besides, anxiety fucked with his disposition, and nobody likes an angry wolf—in any form.

He snorted and whimpered, then shook himself off, relishing the feel of his thick pelt, wrapping him in warmth no clothing ever could. Wild wolves endured the cold, and so would he, if only for an hour or two, until being forced to shift back into his human skin for the sake of blending in.

He’d learned the importance of not being noticed the hard way when both of his parents were hunted and killed when he was sixteen. He’d made his first transition alone, four years later, and without the benefit of guidance.

Most of their kind belonged to packs, and Quinn recalled the stories his mother told of how one day, when he came of age, he’d join other shifters in a ceremony known as the becoming. All young wolves, male and female, made their first transition into their wolf form near the age of adulthood, like he had. The ceremony was a big deal, complete with a special elixir formulated by pack elders to create a hallucinogenic euphoria to numb the pain of shifting.

She’d explained that the wolf spirits revealed a shifter’s true mate during the becoming, and that when it had been completed, the couples emerged together, and presented their pairing to the rest of their packs. The becoming was a time of celebration and unity.

Unfortunately, his parents died before he could learn more. There was no such elixir anywhere around when his time came, and the spirits certainly hadn’t revealed a mate.

Quinn bristled at the memory of that cluster-fuck of a night. Had he known how excruciating the transition would be, he’d have figured a way to get his hands on something to dull the pain. A couple bottles of tequila or a handful of Vicodin would have helped.

He hadn’t had any of that though, so he’d writhed helplessly on the cold, filthy floor of an abandoned building, alone, scared, and sure he would die. Something he’d have welcomed at the time.

His crash course in hiding while in wolf form was tough as well. It’s kind of hard for a wild, hundred and ten pound canine to blend in surrounded by concrete and bumper to bumper traffic in downtown Dallas.

Now though, he could run wild, soothe the burn, and scratch the itch. As long as he kept out of sight, stayed in rural areas, and never got attached to anyone who might discover his secret, he might survive a little longer.

****

Quinn sipped his beer and watched Larry and his friend shoot a game of pool. He’d kept his word and made an appearance, if for no other reason than to act like a normal person rather than an unsociable outcast.

The guy playing pool with Larry was tall and muscular. His dark, shoulder length hair caught Quinn’s attention almost immediately. He’d always been a sucker for a man with a silky, thick mane to run his fingers through, and with the size of this guy, Quinn was sure he’d be a handful in the sack. Not that he had any experience beyond watching porn.

The guy’s brown eyes flickered when he laughed, and his tanned, dimpled cheeks added to his handsome features. The rest of him resembled Thor, making Quinn very curious about the size of his hammer.

Fuck. His balls vibrated at the thought of seeing the hunk of man-candy naked. Quinn squirmed on the barstool, doing his best to readjust his aching cock as it swelled inside his jeans. He hadn’t been this horny in a while.

Quinn almost lost it when the guy glanced up, looked straight at him, and grinned. His cheeks flamed hot, and he swallowed hard. The sexy fucker knows I’m watching.

He continued to eye him up and down, taking advantage of the assumption that the guy didn’t mind being mind-fucked by another man. Most men wouldn’t remain so calm if they knew what Quinn really wanted to do.

Damn. Larry shook his head. You’re killin’ me, man. He dug his wallet out of his back pocket and handed money to the guy.

Pleasure doin’ business with you, Larry.

Quinn downed the rest of his beer, still eyeballing the two of them.

Let me buy a round to make up for it. The guy patted Larry on the shoulder.

Mighty nice of ya’ considering it’s my money you’re paying with.

The guy laughed. You always were a sore loser.

Larry headed toward their table, and the handsome stranger followed. Quinn’s insides fluttered.

Quinn, this is Killian.

Killian gave him a nod and smiled while extending his hand. Nice to meet you, Quinn.

Larry gripped Killian’s shoulder and squeezed. This sorry bastard used to be my little brother’s best friend. He motioned for the waitress. That’s why I let him win.

Killian’s left brow arched dramatically. I see you’re still full of shit.

Three Bud Lights, Larry told the waitress, moving his hand in a circular motion over their round table.

Killian sat on a stool to Quinn’s right while Larry took the left.

So where is your lady tonight, Lare? Killian folded his arms in front of him and leaned onto the table. A teasing grin spread across his face.

She had to help her mother with something or another. Hell, who knows?

Look at you, all domesticated and shit.

Larry’s face reddened. Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.

Oh, I’ve tried it, Killian said. Just couldn’t deal with someone trying to run my life.

Larry laughed aloud. So what? You’re single again?

Quinn squirmed, and his heart pounded. He glared at Killian, awaiting his response then nearly jumped out of his skin when the man looked directly at him and winked.

Single and on the prowl. Killian cocked his head to the side. Came back to town to take a breather. Give the old man something new to bitch about.

Good luck with that.

The waitress returned to the table and placed fresh beer bottles in front of them.

You staying at the house? Larry grabbed one of the beers, but didn’t drink it.

Killian, however, took a long pull of his. You could say that. He stuck me in the guest house, but I prefer it there anyway.

Damn. He holds a fucking grudge, huh?

Killian nodded. Yeah, well you know how that shit goes. He glanced over at Quinn. That’s enough about me. What’s your friend’s story?

Quinn stiffened when Larry slapped him on the shoulder. Quinn here is a puzzle I haven’t quite figured out yet.

Quinn laughed nervously, unable to form words even if he wanted to.

Maybe you’re not askin’ the right questions. Killian smiled then turned back to Quinn, still grinning like he had a secret or something. Where you from, man?

Quinn’s cock twitched at the way Killian’s mouth curled up at the sides. He reached between his legs and gave his dick a good squeeze under the table as he cleared his throat. All over.

Killian’s honey-brown eyes shimmered as an air of smugness sifted over him. He cocked a brow at Larry. See, Lare, he’s an open book.

Chapter Two

Killian Masters sat across from his childhood friend, Larry, doing the best he could not to stare at the beguiling shifter between them. He’d known the instant he walked into Molly’s bar that the guy was a wolf. He could smell him a mile away.

He was young though. Maybe twenty-one, twenty-two at the most. His baby-faced, blond haired, blue-eyed, clean-cut looks were deceiving. Killian could tell. He possessed all the traits of a good ol’ country boy, but something about him was definitely wild and unbridled.

Damn. Larry looked down at his cell phone vibrating on the table.

You better reply, or she’ll never quit texting. Killian took another swig of his beer knowing good and well what was about to happen. Larry was about to cut out and leave him alone with the young wolf. Not that he minded, but he’d wanted to spend a few hours with his old friend. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been home long enough to catch up.

Man. Larry winced, disappointment splattered all over his face. I gotta go.

Killian glanced over at Quinn, who seemed unaffected by the revelation, and then he looked to Larry. Seriously?

Sorry, bro. Larry stood and slapped his hand into Killian’s giving him their usual hand-grip, slide-to-finger clasp shake that he and Larry’s little brother had made up when they were kids, back when secret handshakes defined who they were. We’ll have to do this again real soon.

Killian rose and gave Larry a hard, quick hug. Damn straight.

Larry then shook Quinn’s hand. See ya’ at work.

Yeah, sure, man. Quinn nodded.

Killian settled back onto his bar stool and watched as Larry exited the building. His insides tickled a little as he felt the gaze of the other man. He smiled, hoping to offset the unexpected angst growing inside. So… He fiddled with the paper label on his beer bottle. Known Larry long?

Couple of months.

His brother and I were best friends. Killian perused the bar, preferring not to rehash that chapter in his life.

The crowd had dwindled, making conversation even more necessary. He fidgeted then cleared his throat. There was no point ignoring his instincts about the young shifter. The direct approach always worked best anyway. Does he know?

Quinn’s eyes narrowed. Know what?

Killian gave their immediate area the once over, making sure no one was within earshot. What you are?

Quinn reared back, away from the table, his face whitening by the second. What?

Killian leaned in and repeated his question, this time with a little more emphasis on the what part. Does he know that you’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing?

Quinn’s expression hardened, and his jaw ticked. What the fuck are you talking about? His knuckles flared white as he tightened the grip on his beer bottle.

Simmer down. Killian offered a friendly smile, knowing all too well how easy it would be at that point to send the younger wolf into a rage. He’d give anything to see that. But not there. Not in front of witnesses. Don’t go off half-cocked. I smelled you the second I walked into the room. I’m surprised you didn’t, too.

Quinn’s eyes widened. You’re a—

He gave a slow nod. The kid had no idea Killian was a shifter, too. How was that even possible? We don’t usually wander around alone unless we have to. What’s your story?

The other man’s posture changed, and his shoulders relaxed slightly. A menacing flare still showed in his eyes, but it only added to his sexual appeal as far as Killian was concerned.

Quinn lowered his head and bent across the table toward Killian. What’s yours?

Killian liked him already, with his brooding aura and elusive disposition. Larry was right. You’re gonna be a tough nut to crack, huh? Killian closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. But some things about you are clear as a bell.

Quinn retreated, and his upper lip twitched. Like what?

Amused, Killian reached under the table and brushed his hand against the