Soft Fate (Wolven Moon Book 2) by Dany Rae Miller

Author:Dany Rae Miller
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Purring Books
Published: 2016-11-12T00:00:00+00:00

The common Native stationed at the front of the Dollhouse broadens his stance as I slow to a walk and approach.

“Do you wish to die today?” My beast snarls.

The officer averts his eyes, and leans out of the way as I open the door. Wise. He’s obviously a Native first, a cop second.

Denver PD has a number of wolves — Native, Norse and French, on staff. The chief of police is always a wolf, rotating through the nations. The witches make sure of it. Right now, the office is held by a Norse.

Inside, I scan the lounge. A few dancers have arrived, summoned by LaFontaine for questioning. The girls and Tanya, have pushed two tables together and are gossiping quietly. Shavone is nowhere in sight.

Strength rather than speed being Antonio’s gift, he catches up with me and makes his way to the bar. I duck into the stockroom. A quick scan of it turns up empty.

Tanya walks toward me. “Mr. Cruz.”

“Where’s Shavone?” I ask her.

“In your office, I think,” she says. “Listen. The girls are wondering when we’ll reopen.”

“I don’t know.”

“They have bills to pay,” she calls after me as I rush across the lounge to the hall.

“We’ll discuss it later.” I flick the curtain aside.

Why Shavone would want to see me, I don’t know. Criticizing her will to fight by whatever means she can was wrong. Insulting, even.

I knock lightly on the office door. Her scent isn’t strong enough. I know before I push the door fully open that she isn’t in the room.

I check the dressing room closest to the office. My dread grows to a boil when in the third dressing room are only the detective and his minions tearing it apart.

She’s gone.

This is my fault. While I wallowed in the alley, I left her at risk.

“Shavone!” I bellow down the hall, breaking into a run. I check both women’s bathrooms, take another scan of the lounge and bar, finishing with a second dash through the storeroom.

“Shavone!” The acute panic brings the beast to the surface.

“What the fuck, Cruz?” LaFontaine enters the lounge, hands on his hips.

My wolf is out and grabs the detective’s collar.

“Where is she?” I slam him to the wall. “Where is she?”

LaFontaine’s beast explodes, lifting me and throwing me into the lounge. Rolling, I shift completely. With a growl, I’m on my feet, lunging at him. My left claw rakes cloth and skin from his right arm, across his chest.

The employees wisely scurry out the front door as the giant French alpha roars himself to wolf, shredding his clothes while simultaneously coming at me with a right hook. He’s bigger, but I’m faster. I dodge low, taking his knees. The detective lands on his back with a mighty boom.

“Enrique!” Antonio’s shout barely registers through the blind rage of my beast.

LaFontaine and I grapple on the floor, knocking over chairs and tables. Snarling, the detective attempts to pin me against the stage. I kick my feet, scratching his stomach. He yelps as I flip him with a thud onto the platform.

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