EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2025 N.J. Walters

  ISBN: 978-0-3695-1346-5

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Lisa Petrocelli

  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. No AI Training permitted.

  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.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Elijah (Seven Deadly Sins, #1)

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  DEDICATION

  Thank you to my readers for your loyalty and for embracing my werewolves. There aren’t words enough to express my gratitude. I hope you love the Sin brothers as much as I do.

  The release of any book takes a lot of work. Thank you to my editor and the incredible team at Evernight Publishing for giving me the opportunity to bring this new series to life.

  ELIJAH

  Seven Deadly Sins, 1

  N.J. Walters

  Copyright © 2025

  Meet the Seven Deadly Sins

  Seven brothers, seven sins.

  Only when a virtue goes to an extreme does it become a sin. A person’s greatest strength becomes a weakness if not tempered, or at least that’s what their daddy told them when he bestowed one of the sins on each of them. Pride for Cyrus, the oldest, followed by greed for Josiah, wrath for Eli, envy for Zachariah, lust for Levi, gluttony for Noah, and sloth for Silas.

  Loyalty to family is bred into their bones as much as their werewolf genetics. They live by three simple rules: Stay away from other wolves and pack politics. Protect what’s ours. Humans and wolves don’t mix.

  Fugitive apprehension, abduction rescue and retrieval, bodyguard, they do it all and then some ... if the price is right.

  Come what may, the Sin brothers protect what’s theirs, no matter the cost.

  Chapter One

  The split-second of inattention nearly cost Elijah Sin the fight. His opponent’s fist slammed into his jaw with the force of a sledgehammer, snapping his head back. Thankfully, his skull withstood the punishing blow. His eldest brother liked to say it was as hard as a rock. His youngest brother always countered that claim, insisting it was full of rocks.

  Either way, he couldn’t afford the distraction. Nor could he afford to lose. Not only was his pride at stake, but knowing the odds were against him, he’d laid a sizable bet on himself. Not to mention his brothers would never let him hear the end of it if they ever found out he lost the match.

  Didn’t matter that his opponent was four inches taller than his own six-four and outweighed him by about sixty pounds. A werewolf lose to a human? Not happening.

  Eli countered the punch with one of his own, pulling it so he didn’t accidentally kill the guy. Control was always a challenge in these situations. With his superior strength it would be easy to hit too hard. That would bring trouble in the form of the cops, or the guy’s friends. He wasn’t looking to get locked up, just win the damn fight.

  Blood flew from his opponent’s mouth. The big guy staggered back several feet and shook his head. Time to end this so he could give all his attention to the distraction—the woman who’d just entered the illegal fight club.

  His opponent lowered his head and snorted like an enraged bull before charging. Light on his feet despite his size, Eli danced out of the way. With a roar, his adversary swung wildly. The big guy was used to winning with strength, not skill. Eli ducked and came up swinging. Bare knuckles found their target. A bone cracked. The man staggered, but unlike last time, there was no coming back from this punch. Like a massive redwood being felled in the forest, he went down hard, shaking the makeshift fighting ring when he landed. Spectators yelled at him to get up, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He was out cold.

  Eli vaulted over the ropes and grabbed his t-shirt from the chair where he’d left it. “I’ll take my winnings.” He held his hand out to the owner of the bar, who supplemented his income with the fights.

  “Double or nothing.” The owner tried to smile, not easy with a cigar clamped between his teeth. He wore an ill-fitting suit and diamond pinky ring. Talk about a walking, talking cliché. But the money was good and Eli was only passing through.

  “My money.” The owner flinched beneath his black-eyed stare. Two men, bouncers or bodyguards, whatever the heck they were, took a step closer. If he had to fight his way out, he would. Wouldn’t be the first time, and likely wouldn’t be the last. “My money,” he repeated. “I won’t ask again.”

  Around them the crowd grew restless. Some people worked their way toward the exit. Others were revved at the thought of a brawl. It wouldn’t take much for the place to erupt into all-out violence. That would translate to property damage and a hefty repair bill. The owner sensed it too. “You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that.” He counted the money and shoved it across the table.

  With a grunt, Eli folded the stack of bills and pocketed an easy four grand. Not that he needed the money. It was more about blowing off steam between jobs. It was either fighting or sex. Fighting was easier and a hell of a lot less complicated.

  He didn’t feel bad about taking the money. Underground fighting was illegal. Plus, he’d overheard the organizer bragging he was setting up Eli with a brutal opponent, one who wouldn’t mind permanently injuring him. As far as Eli was concerned, he was performing a public service by putting the big guy down for awhile and costing the owner some big bucks, or at least big money for this place.

  He slung the towel he’d been given around his neck, and with shirt in hand, he headed to the bar in the far corner where the reason for his earlier distraction was currently located. The noise level rose as a new fight was announced, people rushing to place their bets in hopes of recouping their losses. Everyone moved out of his way as he crossed the room. The crowd was about seventy-five percent male. There were enough females in the place that the newcomer shouldn’t have stood out, but she did.

  She was tall for a woman. A couple inches shy of six feet. Thick auburn hair tumbled in waves around her shoulders. Faded jeans fit snugly in all the right places. Blue eyes that reminded him of the cornflowers that grew wild back home tracked his path to the bar, making no secret of her interest. He dragged his fingers through his hair and grinned. Maybe he might get laid after all. Although the long-sleeved V-neck top she wore wasn’t the least bit suggestive. Neither were the low-heeled black boots. She was the most conservatively dressed woman in the place. Her expression was serious, not flirtatious. Tension radiated from her.

  “Water,” he told the bartender, who snorted but set an unopened bottle in front of him. After paying, Eli unscrewed the lid and took a swig before leaning casually against the bar.

  He wished he could catch her scent but it was buried beneath the haze of sweat, booze, cigarette smoke, and perfume that permeated the space. It was stifling down here with no open windows and an outdated air-conditioning system that did little to clear the stench or circulate the stagnant air.

  Her eyes narrowed and her lips pulled together in a frown. “Are you Elijah Sin?”

  Outwardly, his relaxed posture never changed. Inwardly, he snapped to attention. He should have known she’d be trouble. She also might not be alone. In his line of work, he made enemies, dangerous ones. Time to leave. “You’ve got the wrong guy.”

  He tossed down the towel and pulled on his shirt. The wolf side of his nature went on alert, searching for threats. It took more discipline than it should to turn and walk away. He grabbed his water and had taken two steps when she bolted in front of him and placed her hand on his chest.

  A rumbling growl rose from his throat. Fortunately, the noise from the current fight drowned it out, but there was no disguising his displeasure. She swallowed heavily but didn’t back away. “Wait. Please. I want to hire you.”

  It screamed setup, but there was enough desperation in her voice to make him reconsider. “Over there.” He pointed to a small table in a dark corner. “You’ve got two minutes.” It was two minutes too many, but he couldn’t walk away without knowing where she’d gotten his name and how she’d managed to find him. Not like he’d left an itinerary anywhere. Even he hadn’t known he’d be here tonight until a few hours ago.

  She spun on her heel and hurried to the table, taking him at his word that she was on the clock. He sat across from her and leaned back in his chair. The corners of her mouth tightened. “I n
eed protection.”

  “From who?”

  “A hired mercenary.”

  The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He straightened and leaned forward. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Kinley. Kinley Wright.” She licked her lips and linked her hands together on the table in front of her. Her knuckles began to turn white. “I have money.”

  “I’m a bounty hunter, not an assassin.” Not the first time someone tried to hire him for a hit. Officially, he and his brothers were bounty hunters and trackers. Unofficially, they were occasional mercenaries. Hostage retrieval was their specialty, but they were open to other jobs. It wasn’t something they openly publicized, carefully vetting their clients. In his line of work, killing was inevitable, although he did his best to avoid it when possible. When he couldn’t, it was always criminals and bad guys, so he didn’t lose any sleep over it.

  Her incredible eyes widened in shock and her face paled. “No. I don’t want anyone hurt. I just want to get away from the man after me. I need to disappear and hoped you could help.”

  None of this was making any sense. Unless it was an official bounty, people hired him to take care of problems, permanently when necessary. “I don’t do protection.” A couple of his brothers had no trouble with that kind of job, but he preferred the cut-and-dry, black-and-white situations. It suited his temperament.

  The back of his neck itched, a sure sign something about this entire situation was off. He shook his head. “I can’t help you. I’m sorry.” Surprisingly, he was. There was something about her that made him want to break the rules he lived by and offer assistance. That would be a mistake.

  She reached across the table and grabbed his hand, clinging to it with a strength that was surprising. “If you don’t, I’m as good as dead.” She swallowed heavily. “Please.”

  The wolf inside him stirred, as did his sense of justice and something much darker. He stilled, a scent teasing his nostrils. Every muscle in his body tightened. Primal instincts surged to life. Slowly, he lifted her hand to his nose and sniffed. Beneath the light scent of perspiration and soap lay a more potent one.

  Son of a bitch! “You’re a wolf.” The odds of a female werewolf searching him out for protection were astronomical, which served to deepen his belief this was some sort of trap. He and his brothers avoided all wolves and packs, working exclusively for humans. He hadn’t stumbled across a lone female in years, let alone had one try to hire him. They usually stuck close to home.

  Her eyes widened and she jerked her hand back, or tried to. He wouldn’t let go. Like him, she sniffed and froze, like prey scenting a predator. What little color she had in her cheeks vanished. “What have I done?” she whispered.

  ****

  The basement of a seedy Chicago bar was the last place she wanted to be. She’d come searching for salvation. Instead, she might have sealed her doom. Heart racing, she took a deep breath and sought calm. Panic wouldn’t help. She’d evaded capture this long by being smart. This couldn’t be the mercenary her uncle had hired to hunt her down. He was on her trail and closing in fast. She could all but feel him breathing down her neck.

  Elijah Sin was her last hope.

  “How did you find me?” Eyes that had warmly assessed her only minutes before were now frozen pools of black ice that chilled her blood. She’d grown up around dangerous men, but the one across from her was unlike any she’d ever known. He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t bluster, but calmly and methodically went about his business. The fight had been the same.

  Growing up in a pack, the level of violence in the ring wasn’t anything she hadn’t witnessed before. His complete indifference to his opponent was. He’d fought with detachment, each strike brutal and calculated but controlled.

  She licked her dry lips, her throat parched. He pushed the water bottle across the table. Grateful, she drained most of it. Sensing his growing impatience, she set the bottle down. “A friend of my daddy gave me the name of someone he thought might be able to help.” Rufus Hill was a retired pack enforcer, the only one she’d been able to turn to for help.

  “That doesn’t tell me anything.” He glanced toward the exit, signaling his eagerness to be gone.

  “The contact had names of men I could hire. Men who had nothing to do with the world I come from, ones who work for humans. He reached out to some of his connections. One of them got back to him earlier this evening, said he’d seen you coming into this place. I was close to the city, so—” She abruptly stopped when a blast of icy fury struck her like a blow. Inside her, her wolf bristled and snarled, threatened by the unfamiliar male.

  “Someone is paying far too much attention to my comings and goings.” He shook his head and her heart sank. “I’m sorry for whatever is going on with you, but I don’t involve myself with our kind.”

  “My money is as good as any human’s.” She hated to beg, but she was desperate, her options dwindling. She couldn’t keep running forever.

  “Humans don’t have pack politics. Sorry, sweetheart.”

  Shocked at how easily he dismissed her request, she tried to appeal to his softer side. Not that she was convinced he actually had one, but it was worth a try. It was all she had. “You’re sentencing me to death.” Because there was no way she would allow herself to be forced to mate. She’d fight to the death before she’d give in.

  A muscle tightened in his jaw, but his expression remained impassive. He shoved up from the table and walked away without a backward glance. Anger stirred inside her, a bubbling cauldron of fear and worry that she’d managed to tamp down ... until now. Damn all male wolves. With the exception of her daddy and Rufus, the rest were self-serving, power-hungry idiots who took whatever they wanted without ever stopping to ask if it was the right thing to do. They didn’t care.

  Surging off her chair, she stormed after him, taking the stairs to the outside two at a time. He wasn’t getting away from her that easily. The door slammed against the building when she shoved it open. It was easy to track her target. He was casually sauntering away, as though he didn’t have a worry in the world. And he didn’t. It was her life that was in the toilet.

  The simmering rage inside her exploded. She began to run, picking up speed until she was sprinting across the darkened parking lot. He spun around at the last second, but she didn’t stop. Their bodies slammed together with a force that took them to the ground. He grunted when they hit the asphalt and skidded several feet. They were still in motion when he rolled, reversing their positions so she was on the bottom. Before she had time to fight, he grabbed her hands and slammed them over her head.

  “What the hell was that about? I could have hurt you.”

  It was so absurd she began to laugh. When he frowned, she laughed harder. Tears of frustration trickled from the corners of her eyes.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You...” She gasped for air. “You’re worried about me being hurt when I’ll be dead within days if you don’t help me.” She was verging on hysteria, but she’d reached the end of her tether. There hadn’t been time to grieve after her daddy’s unexpected death. On the heels of that tragedy had followed her uncle’s ultimatum—she could mate willingly or not, but she would mate a wolf of his choosing.

  Elijah heaved a sigh, his breath wafting over her face. “It’s not that I don’t sympathize with your troubles.” He got to his feet and held out his hand. Ignoring it, she pushed up off the ground.

  “Troubles.” She scrubbed her hands over her face, wiping away all sign of her momentary weakness. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it. I’m being hunted by a mercenary who’s been ordered to drag me back to my pack. I doubt it matters much what condition I’m in when I get there. We both know I’ll heal from whatever injuries I sustain.” Werewolves were tough and healed faster than any human ever would. It wasn’t instantaneous, but broken bones would be repaired within days.

  He dragged his fingers through his hair and swore under his breath. “You’re a problem I don’t need.”

  This was pointless. He wasn’t going to change his mind. Nothing she said or did would make a difference. The adrenaline-fueled anger died, leaving behind defeat and exhaustion. She turned and walked away.