He wasn’t sure why the sound woke him, but he came to consciousness suddenly. For a second, his heart tripped in hope that Dez was sneaking into his room, but the alpha wouldn’t do that, and if he would, he wasn’t the man Sawyer thought he was.

Besides, this noise was coming from the door that opened onto a front terrace. An outside door.

He strained his ears and made out two heartbeats. Two flickering pack bonds. The betas who were following him. Apparently one of them knew how to pick locks, because there was a loud click, tumblers turning, and the door opened.

Sawyer sat up in bed and turned to look at them. They froze for a second, but it wasn’t as though Sawyer could fight his way through two beta enforcers.

In that moment, he had very few choices. Let them drag him off, which wasn’t an option at all. Fight, and lose. Or kick up a ruckus and hope that the Kismet pack were light sleepers. They were ex-military—it was normal for them to sleep lightly, right?

He grabbed the edge of the comforter draped over him and threw it up and over the beta’s head, and at the same time, yelled the first thing that came into his head. “Dez!”

There was movement from elsewhere in the house a second later, and a crash after that. He only had to hold them off a moment. He could handle that. The important thing was that unlike this morning, he wasn’t alone.

“Fuck my life,” the guy in the doorway hissed. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The other beta ripped off the comforter, and glared at Sawyer with flashing yellow eyes. “That’s it. I’m gonna cut this little asshole. Alpha didn’t say he needed to be pretty.”

Without any further warning, he lunged at Sawyer, claws swiping out at his chest. Searing pain followed a second later.

An omega on the run.


An alpha fractured.


Sawyer Holt can’t go home. The Alpha who has replaced his father wants to use him as a tool to cement his political power, and Sawyer isn’t interested in marrying his father’s murderer.


Dez Sullivan’s leg may never heal from his last mission in Afghanistan, but he’s getting used to that. What he can’t adapt to are the nightmares and the tremor in his hand that the doctors insist is all in his head. Next to that, being a brand new werewolf seems easy, until Sawyer Holt blows into his life. The omega activates his burgeoning wolf instincts in a new way, and they threaten to overwhelm his common sense.


Both men are in Colorado searching for a new start, a new pack, and the safety they’ve lost. Their meeting is pure Kismet.

 

Sam Burns wrote her first fantasy epic with her best friend when she was ten. Like almost any epic fiction written by a ten year old, it was awful. She likes to think she’s improved since then, if only because she has better handwriting now.
If she’s not writing, she’s almost certainly either reading or lost down a Wikipedia rabbit hole while pretending to research for a novel.

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