The Coercion of His Mate by Charlie Richards

Author:Charlie Richards [Richards, Charlie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Adult, erotic Romance, Gay, Glbt, Interracial, Paranormal, Shapeshifter
ISBN: 9781487421045
Publisher: eXtasy Books Inc
Published: 2018-07-20T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

When Lance’s car’s wheels slid through gravel a second time, he stopped on the side of the road and concentrated on breathing. His entire body shook, and nervous sweat soaked his skin. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt such... terror.

Lance closed his eyes, attempting some deep breathing. Except, then the image of Gracen’s large, sexy body twisting and contorting flashed across the backs of his eyelids. He snapped his eyes back open, unable to focus for several seconds as he recalled the grotesque popping and cracking.

Gracen is a werewolf.

“H-How the fuck?”

Swallowing hard, Lance could hardly believe it. Except, he’d seen it with his own eyes! The man that he’d enjoyed kissing just a moment before had changed.

And he isn’t a man. Not at all.

Lance blew out a breath, finally feeling his pulse start to slow. He’d gotten away. The monster hadn’t had a chance to attack him.

“Now, I just need to get Loren, then get home, and I will never think about this again.”

Surely if Lance threatened to tell Gracen’s secret to... someone... then the man would leave him alone.

Right?

God, I hope so.

Even as Lance decided on his course of action and eased the car back onto the road, a pang of regret caused his chest to tighten. He felt disappointed, sad. Gracen had been so handsome and honest—about everything, too.

Shaking his head, Lance scowled at the road. Never in his wildest imaginings would he have thought that creatures from myth were true. A startling idea rushed through him, causing him to gasp and jerk the wheel.

Lance righted the vehicle even as he began to tremble anew. If werewolves were real, did that mean vampires were real, too? Surely that couldn’t be possible.

And five minutes ago, I didn’t think werewolves were real.

By the time Lance reached Wendell’s place, he wasn’t any closer to being calm. He parked behind the vehicle closest to the door, then gaped. Surely that wasn’t the kind of car he thought it was.

Getting out of his car, Lance realized it was.

“Who the hell drives a Porsche around the mountains?”

“I do.”

Lance spun, and his brows shot up. “Jared.” It’d been at least a year and a half since he’d last seen the man, but he looked about the same—lean, toned, and with hazel eyes that always seemed to sport a cool detachment. “Hi.”

Oh, I’m so lame.

Mentally blaming it on the fact that his brain was still fried, Lance cleared his throat. “I didn’t realize Wendell was having a get-together when I asked him to babysit.” In truth, Lance hadn’t even known that his friend knew Terry’s brother-in-law. Lance motioned toward the house. “I’ll grab Loren and get out of everyone’s hair. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

“There’s no scheduled gathering,” Jared told him, striding slowly closer. His hands were shoved into his pockets, and the closer he drew the more he seemed to be assessing Lance. “I’m actually here for you, Lance.”

Cocking his head, Lance took a step backward. “Uh, what?”

“You, Lance,” Jared repeated. “I’m here for you.

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