The MC Beast

I spent a year tracking a wolf too big to exist.

Then it put its teeth in me.

Greer Ivers is the state's wolf biologist for a slot canyon in the Idaho Silver Valley, and she measures everything. Track width. Stride length. Bite spacing on a dead heifer. Eleven plaster casts of an animal that would have to weigh two hundred and sixty pounds sit in a box under her kitchen table, and she has never shown them to anyone, because she cannot say what she would say next.

Under the Hunter's Moon she drives up Tin Creek Road to pull three cameras before the snow.

Her truck dies. Wolves come down the road in a line, quiet, closing. And something the size of the truck bed comes out of the timber, wrecks them on the hood, turns around into the headlights, and takes her down in the frozen mud.

Roan Delbridge is sergeant at arms of the Blackmaw MC, a bloodline throwback the pack has chained in a dead tungsten mine on every full moon since he was sixteen. He has a silver scar across his ribs, a mother in the ground because of a war he could not stop, and a voice that puts grown men on their knees.

What he does not have is any control over the thing that came out of him on that road.

The pack has a law older than the club. It has never been written down.

A savage answers to the pack.

A turned human is claimed or killed.

The bond runs one way. She is tied to him. He is tied to nothing.

Thirty days to prove she can survive her first moon.

And the only mouth that can ever claim the Beast is hers.

Thirty days last about as long as you'd expect.

Because somebody at the Blackmaw table has been feeding the club to its enemies since June. Because the state has just signed a lethal removal order for the biggest wolf ever recorded in Idaho, described by Greer's own measurements, out of her own folder, with her name at the bottom of the page. And because the man who put a leash on her with his teeth swore, in front of witnesses, that he will never use his voice to pull it. Not to keep her. Not to save her. Not to save himself.

He cannot argue his way back. He cannot buy it. He can only earn it, in actions, one at a time, for as long as she feels like looking, and the pack is about to find out that a beast can be taught to heel by exactly one person.

Eighteen years of chains never held the Beast.

One word from her does.

A dark, high-heat paranormal MC romance featuring fated mates who got it wrong, a one-way bond, forced proximity, enemies to lovers, touch her and die, a traitor at the table, found family, and a hard-won happily ever after. Standalone. No cliffhanger. No cheating. Dual first-person POV.

This is a dark romance: a non-consensual turning bite (not sexual), captivity, on-page violence, explicit content, amputation, and grief. Full content warnings inside the front matter.

He took her life on a road under the Hunter's Moon.

She decides what he pays for it under the next one.