Home > Beta Untamed (Feral Pack #2)

Beta Untamed (Feral Pack #2)
Author: Eve Langlais

 


INTRODUCTION

 

 

Asher is determined to never settle down—until he meets his mate.

 

 

Asher is a flirt and the fun-loving joker of the Pack. He’s determined to remain single forever, but that plan goes out the window when Valencia arrives.

A feisty human, she teases him at every turn. Makes him want something more. Especially after they spend a weekend as a pretend couple to avoid trouble with his old Pack.

Problem is he’s got a secret, a howling and hairy one. And she's mentioned more than once the fact that she’s not crazy about dogs.

Things come to a head when Valencia is threatened and he’s forced to show her his feral side. Will she run or stay to tame the beast?

 

 

For more info on this book or more Eve Langlais titles, please visit, EveLanglais.com.

 

 

PROLOGUE

 

 

Before Asher started working at the ranch…

The cowards jumped Asher as he left work.

As a bartender in downtown Edmonton, he was always the last one to leave because he made sure all the girls on staff got into their cars and on their way safely before he locked up. Which left him alone in the alley when the gang ambushed him.

Tired after his ten-hour shift, he never heard or smelled them coming. Blame the clanking of the HVAC system and the stench of the dumpsters.

As he walked past the garbage bin, headed for his motorcycle, a fist clocked him out of nowhere and his head snapped back. Before he could recover, the pummeling came fast and furious. Boots to his ribs. Blows to his face.

Things cracked.

Bruised.

Bled.

And fucking hurt until he passed out and woke in the hospital. Or so he assumed by the smell of antiseptic and the steady pinging of machines. The swelling around his eyes meant he could barely open them. Via a tiny slit, he noted an IV in his arm dripped fluids.

“Asher!” The cry drew his squinting attention to the left side of his bed, where his sister stood, expression drawn, hands wringing in anxiety.

“Hey, Winnie.” Asher tried to smile for her, only to grimace instead as his bruised jaw protested.

“Thank goodness you’re awake. I’ll get the nurse.”

“No, nurse. Just you. Please.” He wasn’t ready to deal with anyone else yet.

Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Asher.” Not the first time she’d cried over him. His pretty face and loose tongue meant he drew more than his fair share of fights. He also liked doing the dumb shit brash young men enjoyed like jumping off cliffs into water without checking the level or rocks first. He’d spent part of that summer in a cast.

He tried to push himself up and grimaced as pain shot through him.

At his expression, she hastened to jab at a button, angling the bed so he could sit at an incline. He should have remained lying down, not that he mentioned the discomfort to his baby sister.

“I’m okay, Winnie. Betcha it looks worse than I feel.” A lie. He felt plenty shitty.

Her lower lip wobbled. “Do you know who attacked you? The police couldn’t find any clues.”

“No idea. It was dark. Guess it was my turn for a mugging.” Another fib. He’d gotten a glimpse of the ringleader. Rocco Durante. Son of the Pack’s Alpha. A veritable asshole and a bully when paired with his two closest allies, Larry and Ben.

“I was so worried. The hospital said you showed signs of a brain bleed. They weren’t sure you’d wake up or be okay.”

He wouldn’t have survived if he were human. A Were had a better constitution than most. “Bah. It will take more than a few love taps to hurt me,” he soothed. He hated seeing Winnie, the baby sister he’d always coddled, worried. “Surprised Mom isn’t here.” Ever since his dad died, more than ten years now, Mom had a tendency to hover.

“She just left. She’s been at the hospital since they brought you in.”

“How long?” He felt stiff, and not all of it was because of his wounds. His muscles protested his long nap.

“Someone found you yesterday morning, and it’s late afternoon now.”

A wince tugged his mouth. He must have been in really bad shape to be unconscious that long. No wonder they thought he might not recover.

Winnie kept talking. “Mom is going to be so peeved you woke up while she went to grab a shower and something to eat.”

“Food sounds good about now.” His body would require plenty of nutrition to speed up the healing process.

Winnie’s expression brightened. “You’re hungry? I’ll let your nurse know to bring you a tray. You should also be checked over.”

“No nurse. They’ll want to feed me shitty hospital food.” He’d had it before. Bland broth. Stale bread. A carton of milk. “I want real stuff. I’m a growing boy.” He wasn’t sure his winsome smile had the proper effect given Winnie swallowed hard and blinked back fat tears.

Her words were choked as she muttered, “I’ll run to the coffee shop across the street and grab you something.”

Before he could tell her not to leave, she was gone. She obviously said something to a nurse because one wearing a patterned scrub top with matching cap came bustling in.

“Look who’s back in the land of the living.” Her greeting was boisterous. “How are you feeling?”

He wanted to snarl that he’d rather be dead, or at least still unconscious, because he hurt all over. But that wasn’t the Asher he showed to the world. He managed a wan smile that didn’t send the nurse screaming and said, “Not great, but I’ll live. Thanks for looking after me.”

“Bah, it was no problem. You were pretty quiet.” The nurse offered a smile as she placed her fingers on his wrist, eyeing her watch.

They exchanged small talk, the bantering kind to soften her toward him. Asher had a way of putting people, especially women, at ease. Sometimes more a curse than a boon.

As Nurse Marge, according to her nametag, checked him over and took his vitals, detailing how lucky he was to be alive, he kept his replies vague. Chances were he’d have to chat with the police, and he didn’t want to screw up whatever story he settled on. Despite knowing who put him in the hospital, he couldn’t exactly tattle. One didn’t rat on other Pack members. Besides, Rocco—the man leading the beating—had reason to be angry with Asher.

As Marge finished checking his vitals, a sound at the door caught his attention.

A beautiful woman stood framed. Melinda. Rocco’s ex-fiancée and the reason for his current condition.

Marge eyed Melinda with a frown. “Are you family?”

“A friend,” Melinda declared, suddenly flustered.

 

“Family only.” Marge moved in Melinda’s direction to escort her out.

“Please, Marge, I’d appreciate it ever so much if you’d let my girlfriend stay.” Asher uttered the plea using his best poor-little-boy expression and voice. It worked even with his face battered.

Marge wagged a finger. “Only for a few minutes. The doctor will be in to see you momentarily.”

“You’re an angel,” he declared.

Melinda said nothing until the nurse left, and then it emerged in a soft rush. “I’m sorry, Asher. I never expected this to happen.”

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