Special Ops Shifters: The Complete Series Collection (Shifter Nation) by Meg Ripley

Author:Meg Ripley [Ripley, Meg]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Shifter Nation
Published: 2019-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Captured By The Soldier Wolf

Special Ops Shifters

1

It’d been a long night, and Flint Myers hadn’t had much sleep. The full moon had called to him through the window of his apartment, reminding him that he wasn’t just a man. He’d slipped out through the fire escape, not interested in having nosey Mrs. Watkins from next door peeking through her peephole and wondering where he was going at that late hour. The streets had been mostly quiet, or at least as quiet as they could’ve been for D.C., and he’d made his way out to a nearby park. During the day, it was a noisy bustle of parents, nannies, and their gaggles of children, screaming and crying and all being part of the crowd. At night, it was hauntingly quiet, just the way he’d liked it.

A good run on all fours had left him feeling ready to get back home, to make another attempt at a normal life, but the artificial lights in the apartment and the closeness of the walls hadn’t sat well with him. He’d stayed up a few more hours to clean his guns, changing out some parts on a few of his rifles and making plans for a new build.

Now that the midday sunlight streamed through his blinds, Flint dragged a hand through his hair and picked up his buzzing phone from the nightstand. He squinted at the screen, finding several messages from his Special Ops Shifter Force comrades.

Emergency meeting ASAP. That one was from Drake.

The next was from Garrison. You up yet?

We’re waiting on you was the text from Hudson.

The final one was from the newest member of the SOS Force, Leona, whom Flint still wasn’t completely used to. I brought burgers.

Flint laughed a little as he hauled himself out of bed, amused by the different ways in which his brothers in arms he’d known since basic training spoke to him, and how Leona seemed to think it was better to bribe him. She wasn’t wrong, of course.

He got dressed, throwing on a pair of ratty jeans, boots that had seen better days, and a black t-shirt. There was no telling how long this meeting would last or how bored he would get, so the plans for his latest gun build and a few parts he could tinker with went into a battered brown leather satchel.

“Good morning, Flint.” Mrs. Watkins was standing in the doorway to her apartment, her frizzy gray hair hanging in a tattered braid past her shoulder. She wore a striped muumuu as a uniform, and her dark eyes were clouded with concern. “Did you hear anything strange last night?”

“Can’t say that I did.” He turned to lock his apartment door, wishing the woman didn’t have such impeccable timing. Either she stood in her doorway all day, or she just always managed to catch him every time he left or came back.

“All the dogs in the neighborhood were barking,” she asserted. “I heard them.”

He pocketed his key. “I’m sure it was just Mr. Jorgenson’s dog.

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