SIX MONTHS_(A Seven Series Novel Book 2)

SIX MONTHS_(A Seven Series Novel Book 2) by DANNIKA DARK


Acknowledgements:

This book is dedicated to every person who has found their happy ending in a new beginning, and for those who seek it.


Prologue


Reno parked his Triumph motorcycle off a side road on the outskirts of the city. He could smell the thick prelude to an oncoming storm mingled with the sweet fragrance of wildflowers. No better scent in the world.
It had been a grueling week and he’d just closed an important case. Reno was a private investigator and accepted jobs at his own discretion. Most of the time he turned down the petty shit like Shifters who suspected their mates were cheating. They’d offer Reno good money to stalk their women and capture damning evidence. He’d learned men like that didn’t have good intentions, and Reno didn’t want to do anything that would endanger a woman’s life because of a jealous man. He’d relocate women when he suspected abuse, but he preferred jobs that led him on a chase, hunting down deplorable criminals. That’s the kind of life he came from as a former bounty hunter.
Bounty hunters went after nefarious men with a price on their head, officially declared outlaws by the higher authority. But plenty of criminals flew under the radar. After years of getting his ass shot at and living out of a suitcase, Reno had decided to settle down and start up a new career. PI work wasn’t as glamorous, but it had its perks. For one, he could hunt men who committed an act not punishable by Breed laws. Because there weren’t many Breed jails, the laws were lax in order to fill their prisons with only the most depraved criminals who were a threat to society. If a man beat his wife, he wouldn’t be arrested. Wolf packs didn’t tolerate abuse and would make those men regret they had ever drawn breath. But not all Shifters followed the same code of conduct, and not all Shifters were wolves or living in tight family units. Reno worked for anyone who hired him, regardless of Breed. Sometimes a little street justice was called for on Reno’s part, but in most cases, he handed the offender over to his client.
It didn’t work like human investigations where evidence was gathered and they’d have a trial. Reno was a Shifter, and that meant he roughed men up in order to set them straight. Sometimes he was hired to find a person gone missing; other times he set up surveillance to help catch people suspected of fraud.
This last job had taken him on a wild-goose chase for two days to track down an embezzler up in Chicago. He’d gotten double the pay to compensate for the travel expenses. After closing the case, he decided to take a little time off because money was good and he needed a vacation.
Reno’s personal life had been scattered for the past few months. His wolf itched to get out more, and on a number of occasions, Reno had woken up far from his bike, deep within the city limits. Humans had no idea Breed existed, so his wolf’s erratic behavior could prove dangerous if someone were to catch him. Reno lived on a hundred acres of rural territory with the Weston pack—plenty of space for his wolf to run. But lately Reno’s usually obedient wolf had been roaming.
To appease him, Reno had begun parking his bike closer to the city. Maybe his wolf was just curious about humans. Shifters had to make peace with their animal; there’s nothing worse than waking up naked, fifty miles away from your bike and clothes because of a cantankerous wolf. So Reno made a compromise and began shifting in a wooded area near the population, establishing boundaries. The change satisfied his wolf’s curiosity but did nothing to suppress his uncompromising restlessness.
Reno had never experienced this level of disobedience before, and it had progressively worsened over the last three weeks. Even after shifting back, he didn’t feel the usual contentment that came with returning to human form. Something was up and he didn’t like it.
Reno kicked off his motorcycle boots and unbuttoned his dark blue shirt. He had brought a waterproof bag to store his clothes in to protect them from the rain, so he neatly folded his shirt inside and stripped out of his jeans and shorts.
Damn, it felt good to be a Shifter. His muscles flexed as he drew in a deep breath, listening to the majestic stillness of the thick woods. Sprinkles of rain created a canopy of sound overhead, tapping against the fragile leaves. Fall was his favorite time of year to shift. He loved the feel of rain against his naked body, the crisp sting of clean air, and the heavy scent of winter trying to push its way in. Winter in Texas was a joke compared to the snowy hills of Colorado, but it appeased his wolf just the same.
Reno had everything a man could want: family, brotherhood, a home, a respectable job, a sweet bike, and life. Yet there was an unshakable emptiness in the center of his chest—one that gnawed at his heart like a ravenous beast whenever he thought of having a woman filling the empty space in his bed. One who could make him a better man, completing him the way that only a good woman could.
Not just any woman, but one in particular intruded into his mind in quiet moments. A girl he’d only met once, but the vision of her sweet eyes and delicate nature had branded his thoughts. Shifter men were notoriously attracted to strong women who spoke their mind, but this girl seemed strong in a different way. Inwardly. He could sense her resilience; it was something he’d acquired over his many lifetimes of witnessing war, famine, and poverty. A quiet strength that made a person keep walking forward in life, no matter what. Sometimes strength wasn’t about brawn, but heart. It reminded him of a horse race he’d once witnessed years ago. Everyone had given the accolades to the impressive thoroughbred that soared through the finish line. But not Reno. He patiently waited and applauded the horse that came in dead last with a broken leg but not a broken spirit. That horse could have fallen and given up, but it pushed through the pain until it reached the finish line. That was the toughest damn animal in the race, whether or not the horse knew it would be his last run.
Reno needed to erase the thoughts he was having of this girl; they were from two different worlds. Aside from that, he remembered the fear glittering in her eyes when she looked upon him. He could hardly blame her because that wasn’t an uncommon reaction when humans looked at Shifters. But for a fleeting moment, he also thought he saw a flicker of desire in the way she blushed and wet her mouth, quickly averting her gaze. Shifters were perceptive when it came to body language, and something about hers was conflicted. But he still felt it—a magnetic pull that threaded between them and piqued his curiosity.
After Reno tucked his handgun in a separate compartment on his bike, he carefully hid the bag beneath some brush.
In a fluid movement too fast to track, Reno shifted into his earthy-brown wolf. He lifted his snout and inhaled the fragrance of red cedar, yellow damianita, and autumn sage. He pawed at the wet dirt and let out a howl that stilled every living creature within earshot. A white rabbit scurried off in the distance and he lurched forward, disappearing into the wild woods.