WOLF HUNTED

  The Complete Series

  Copyright 2022 ©

  Abigail Grant

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents, either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  DESCRIPTION

  I don’t feel sorry for myself for the way I ended up here, a lone wolf on the run. Or, a nomad as some choose to call me.

  My father took one look at me the night I shifted for the first time, and he knew I wasn’t his. I was an abomination, meant to be executed.

  Whatever. I know how to survive on my own, and I have been doing just fine for the past three years, even though the alpha of the Aeris pack seems set on being the one to protect me.

  Can’t he see that I don’t need him, even though he did save me when I was near death?

  His promises to lay down his life for mine don’t matter, though. I don’t belong with his pack. I don’t belong anywhere.

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  CONTENTS

  FREE GIFT

  Part 1: WOLF TOUCHED

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  Part 2: WOLF HUNTED

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  Part 3: WOLF MARKED

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  Part 4: WOLF RISEN

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  Part 5: WOLF FALLEN

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  Other Books by This Author

  Free Gift

  About The Author

  Part 1:

  WOLF

  TOUCHED

  CHAPTER 1

  Janie

  Walking into the diner, the smell of fried foods hits my nose and instantly makes me hungry. I've been on the road for hours, looking for the next spot to stay for the next few weeks. Constantly on the move, my meals can be sporadic, mostly consisting of food from gas stations. This morning's protein bar was not enough for my shifter metabolism. I try to ignore my stomach growling in protest. Stop it!

  I hate that part of me, the part that made my father believe I didn't fit into his pack. The day before my sixteenth birthday, everything was normal. Although my father and I were never close, he didn’t give me a reason to doubt his love. However, the day of my sixteenth birthday was the day that I became a nomad.

  Today, as I drove down the two-mile long main street, I saw the help wanted sign in the diner window. I knew this would be my meal ticket for a bit. I hate getting to know people, which makes waitressing a tough gig for someone with little-to-no people skills, but I need the money. What I already have saved will have to go to the local motel, and it might get me enough groceries for a week.

  "Hi, welcome in! Grab any seat, and I'll be right with you," a girl my age says from behind the counter, her voice peppy and welcoming. She’s thin but busty, wearing a form-fitting shirt with the diner logo and a black apron wrapped around her waist. I hate the idea of wearing anything like that, but a job’s a job.

  "Actually, I'm here for a job application. I saw your help wanted sign out there," I point awkwardly at the window behind me.

  She looks me up and down, her wavy brown hair falling over her brow. It makes me wonder if I should've freshened up more in my car before coming in. Driving for hours on end means wrinkled clothes. I'm not one for make-up, so I only put a bit of tinted lip balm on. I also ran a brush through my short brown hair and called it good. My hair still smells like ammonia from dying it, but I hope the girl doesn’t notice. I miss my long hair, but I had to get rid of it.

  "Do you have a resume?" She asks, leaning a hip on the linoleum table top just as a customer calls for her. "Hold on." She walks over to a table of men, topping off their drinks and chatting. It's clear they are asking about me, eyes shifting in my direction, but I don't care.

  The girl walks back over and I hand her the resume I have ready. "Yeah, here it is. I've waitressed before, and I know about payment systems. I can count money fast, and I work hard," I tell her. My voice is monotone as I run down the list of qualities someone would need to snag a job at a restaurant. Act confident, I remind myself.

  I hand her the resume and look around at the place as she reads it over. Classic diner with the old-timey decorations of vinyl records, and even an old jukebox sits in the corner playing a sixties slow jam. I see an older guy peeking out from the kitchen, checking me out. Not in a creepy way, more curious. He fits the job of chef in a way the décor fits the place, with a smashed-down white hat on his head. He looks like he's meant to be here. A few patrons are watching as well. They must not get new people in here very often.

  "Janie Smith?" the girl asks, quirking a well-manicured eyebrow as a smile teases her lips. "That sounds made up." She's blunt. I like that, but I remind myself I'm not here for friends.

  "I get that a lot," I tell her, giving a small smile right back. I change my name in every town I go to. Some are creative. Others, well, not so much. I've become a pro at faking my driver's license, but the other documents can’t be forged, so I try to find jobs that don't ask for them.

  "We need someone that shows up on time and puts in the work," she says, staring me down. "We get paid once a week, usually in cash, you keep your tips, and you'll be working from open to close, does that work for you?"

  "That’ll work just fine,” I nod. Sounds perfect.

  “I’m Darby,” She says, reaching across the counter to shake my hand. “I need you to fill out the paperwork, and you can start tomorrow morning. We open at 8 am and close at 10 pm. I’ll train you, and then we can work out shifts.” I appreciate her no-nonsense. It’s refreshing.

  I’ve been town-hopping for the last three years, never staying in one place too long. I’ve met many people, and most of them didn’t like me because I don’t chat. Idle conversations aren’t my thing. Being kicked out of the only life you know by your father does that to you.

  “Sounds good to me,” I tell her, trying to look positive.

  “Here, have a seat. I’ll get the papers for you,” Darby says, a truly kind smile on her face. “The big guy behind me is Earl. It’s only us working. He deals with cooking, and his wife Shirly is our manager, but she’s only in on Fridays.”

  I give a mock salute to Earl, who’s still staring. He responds with a curt nod before turning to the flattop. I slide into a booth by the window, and check the clock on the far wall. It’s almost closing time. I hope the motel will still be open when I get done here.

  Darby sets the paperwork in front of me, and it's nothing too in-depth. There isn't even info for a w-2 which works in my favor.

  “Can I order something to eat? I’ve been on the road all day,” I ask Darby before she has a chance to walk away.

  “Sure, anything in particular?” She asks. She keeps staring at me strangely, and I don’t know why, but I brush it off.

  “A burger, please.” She nods as she makes her way over to Earl.

  I fill out the paperwork and walk it up to the counter just as my plate is ready. “How much do I owe you?” I ask, pulling out my wallet. I don’t have a lot to spend, but I couldn’t leave here without a meal.

  “Earl says tonight you eat for free,” Darby grins. I don’t know why she’s smiling so wide, but I shrug it off.

  I'm wolfing down my burger, literally, as a man walks in. I struggle to swallow the bite as I track his movements. He’s tall and intimidating, looming in the doorway, reminding me of a bouncer at a club. His dark hair is longer, hanging just past his ears and the hint of a five o'clock shadow along his chin makes his angular face look rugged. My heart kicks up a beat as he looks over at me, dark eyes pinning me to my seat. Damn, he’s hot. I watch him as he goes over to talk to Darby for a second before he turns and stalks towards my table. Oh man. I gulp down the bite to look up at him as he looms over me.

  “You don’t belong here,” He growls out, so close that his breath hits my cheek. Suddenly the sound of people eating and chatting stops. I could hear a pin drop, making the confrontation feel eerie.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I snap back. Egotistical. I mentally add that to the list of his traits.

  “My sister says she hired you, but you won't have time to work here since you’ll be moving on.” Now that he mentions the relation to Darby, I can see a slight resemblance. Before I get a chance to tell the guy

to get out of my face, Darby is by his side.

  “Leave Janie alone, Hunter.” She pulls his arm off the table and pushes him towards the door. “Wait outside until I’m ready to close up.” He glares at me before he walks out the door, his dark eyes lingering for too long. What a jerk.

  “Sorry about that. He…uh…doesn’t like new people,” She says, scrunching her face up. I have a feeling that’s not quite it, but I leave it alone.

  “I can see that,” I say, pushing away my plate. “I’ll get going. I need to get to the motel before the office closes.” I throw money on the table even though she said it was on the house.

  “You don’t want to stay in that place. Trust me.” She chews on her lip nervously before continuing. “If you head up the road about a mile and then turn off where it heads into the woods, drive down the dirt road, you’ll find a cabin. No one owns it, but the town keeps up with it. It’s not five-star or anything, but it’s private, and you won't have to worry about paying rent. Just buy new sheets for the bed and stuff. It shouldn’t be locked up, but if it is….” She pauses as she jots down her cell phone number and hands it to me. “Call me, and I can come help you.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that,” I tell her. That’ll help me save for when I move on.

  I shake my head as I walk outside, realizing I have to walk past Hunter, who’s leaning on the building. I square my shoulders as I stalk past him to my car. Jerk. Who does he think he is anyway? I can feel his eyes tracking my movements until I drive away. Had he not opened his mouth and stuck his foot in it, I might’ve appreciated being seen by someone as good-looking as him. Pft. Whatever. That’s one heck of a welcome to Flat Top Mountain.

  CHAPTER 2

  Hunter

  How is there a nomad shifter in Flat Top? I have too much time to think about things as I wait for my sister to finish up in the diner. After I confronted the girl, it had everyone hightailing it out of there, which works for me. The sooner the customers leave, the sooner I can go home.

  I snatch the resume from Darby once we climb into my truck. It doesn’t take a genius to realize all of it is complete bull. I skim my eyes down the paper briefly before I drive us out onto the deserted main road.

  Nothing on there is personal or detailed, although it's just enough that it could keep prospective employers from asking too many questions. I pick up on that right away. All the references sound just as bad as her alias. Jim Mogul. Tracy Starr. Randy Tervis. What could she be hiding? Those aren’t even particularly good made-up names.

  “So, who is she?” I ask, thinking about her short brown hair. I got a whiff of ammonia in her scent, so she likely just dyed her hair not long ago.

  “What?” Darby asks, caught off guard. “Who?”

  “The nomad,” I growl out. Man, I’m being an ass.

  Darby makes a face at me. “Janie smells weird to me, but I have no clue. She didn’t seem to know I’m a shifter too.” That’s no surprise. Other shifters wouldn’t know we’re shifters unless we want them to. With being part of the Aeris, we have an affinity for masking our scent and being able to follow scents longer. Also, being light on our feet is a plus.

  “Her smell put me on edge as soon as I walked into the diner. Any idea on where she came from?” I ask, trying to place her smell. I’ve been around other elemental packs, and I don’t remember anyone smelling like her.

  Our air abilities also tend to keep and categorize scents, so there’s no mistaking it once we smell it, which only means I need to be around her again to really figure it out. I can put feelers out with a nomad friend of mine. He’s usually more knowledgeable about those moving around this area of Tennessee.

  “She didn’t say,” Darby huffs out, tired of my interrogation.

  “Why didn’t you ask? You know you’re nosey enough to.” I give her the side-eye in time to catch her rolling her eyes.

  “She seems…I don’t know…flighty. Something came over me, and I just wanted to help her.”

  “Where’s she staying?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the road, even though I know the way home like the back of my hand.

  “The…uh, cabin,” Darby says slowly. I can’t help doing a double-take at her, and she’s giving me a sheepish smile as I wonder what the hell possessed her to do that.

  “Why would you tell her about the cabin?” I ask, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn white.

  “I might’ve hinted that it’s a town project.”

  “You rented out my cabin to a strange shifter that just rolled into town?” I ask sharply. My mind isn’t processing the ridiculousness.

  “Not really rent, but yup, my bad.” She shrugs.

  The only good thing about my sister thinking she needs to take this Janie under her wing is that I can do some digging on her and keep an eye on her at the same time.

  “You do realize we don’t take on nomads, right?” I ask, turning onto our road and rolling down the long stretch to our house.

  “Yes, I do, but I also know that for whatever reason, after smelling her, I felt compelled to help her out. Plus, now I have help at the diner. I wasn’t going to pass that up.”

  I’ve had that rule since our parents died five years ago when I became the pack's alpha. I wouldn’t risk everything I have for an outsider. A nomad has to do something egregious to get kicked out of their clan. Or, like my friend Dirk, you can lose your whole pack to another based on territory and fights with other packs. I guess there are possibilities that she hasn’t messed up too badly, but I need to know more about her before she stays.

  “You know you don’t have to work there,” I tell her, pulling into our driveway. Being the alpha of the pack, our house overlooks the rest of the houses. A physical metaphor for the responsibilities put on my shoulders.

  Walking in, I start to open the windows. I get too antsy when I’m closed inside a building. With air in our genes, there are so many windows in the place that I’m surprised my grandparents had any walls built at all. That’s just another added responsibility to the pack. I lost my grandfather and father before I was completely ready to take all of this on.

  “Yeah, I know, but I like to work,” Darby quips as she shuffles upstairs to her room. I find my way to my office, wondering how I’m going to figure out who this nomad is. Am I worried about her being in the territory, or the full-body reaction I had to her? Her scent is intoxicating.

  If others want the title, there’s a battle to the death. If another pack wants your land, it’s a battle to the death. Essentially all the old rules had men dying to keep their people safe, including my father and grandfather, leaving my mother and grandmother behind to die of broken hearts.

  Once mated, wolves don’t survive the loss of their mate. It’s like two halves of a whole. Some wolves can go their whole lives without mating, just so they aren’t attached to others, which is what I plan to do. I refuse to have someone slowly fade away because I'm the alpha of this pack and have the destiny to die for it, one way or another. Others find their mate, and no one else can take their place from that moment forward. It’s not for me.

  CHAPTER 3

  Janie

  What a brute. Darby’s brother was a complete jerk, a complete jerk who’s stuck in my head. I don’t know what it is about him and his attitude that I can’t stop thinking about, but the encounter with him made me more than a little unsettled.

  Whatever. I mentally follow the directions Darby gave me to find this cabin. I like that it will help me save up for when I need to move on. At least, I hope it will. I haven’t seen it yet, so who knows if she’s messing with me or not. What’s another night sleeping in the car anyway?

  Following the dirt trail after turning off the main road, I’m about ready to turn around when I see the silhouette of a small cabin set back in the dense trees. It’s bigger than I thought when Darby brought it up. Not huge, but nice.

  Getting out of my car, I approach the dark, wooden door slowly. I’m following a stranger’s word on where I should rest my head. Can I trust her? I guess she wouldn’t invite me to stay in a dangerous place, knowing that I’d be in for work in the morning.