Free Steel: Blue Collar Wolves #3 (Mating Season Collection) by Ronin Winters, Mating Season Collection

Chapter One
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    T he gun sat heavy in Regan’s hand, unwieldy, mocking her fright in having it so near. Beside her Annabeth began crying, the gun in her hand shaking with the force of her sobs.
    “Enough.” Their father’s voice was a crack of thunder, too loud amidst the terror circling the little girls who stood together. “Werewolves don’t care if you cry. They’ll take you into the night as you scream…”
    …like what happened to your mother.
    The latter was unsaid, but Regan heard it anyway. She’d heard the story enough it was now part of her, etched into her skin as surely as the blue veins that pushed blood through her body. The beasts who had taken away her mother, had left her and her sister with a father whose every word dripped vengeance as the breath that spoke the words reeked of alcohol.
    Regan put her hand over Annabeth’s, the gun steady by force. “Shhh, Bethie, I’ll make it okay. Don’t cry.”
    Annabeth’s wide blue eyes looked up to her big sister, and taking a sniveling, snorting breath, quieted herself as well as a seven-year-old could.
    Pushing the fine blonde hair away from her sister’s blue eyes, Regan then took the gun. “Go sit. I’ll teach you later, just you and me.” Giving a fearful look in their father’s direction, Annabeth did as told and went over to the bench, where her beat-up teddy bear lay and a book on fairies Bethie was only half-finished with.
    “What the hell–”
    Regan interrupted her father. Stopping him before he could work himself up into a temper was the best way to keep the peace. “Daddy, I’ll teach her while you’re at work. Right now all she’ll do is waste time.”
    Her father’s eyes were always half-clouded these days, always containing a sheen of confusion. He seemed to want to argue, but couldn’t quite form an argument why he shouldn’t go along with what she was suggesting. He shook his head, greasy hair flying in his face. “Fine. But she better know how to handle the gun next session, or you’ll be the one getting the belt.”
    Regan lifted her chin, not letting the instant fear the words brought color her voice. Showing fear sometimes made Daddy mad, and he’d get the belt for that alone. “She will, promise.”
    As she loaded bullets, as she took in the heft and strength of the gun, with every slap her father gave her when she failed, a vow etched itself into her heart. She would hunt them, just as her father was teaching her to do. Every one of them, every wolf who hurt a human, every wolf that destroyed a family, every wolf who took a Mommy away.
    She’d hunt them.
    She’d kill them.
    And she’d move on to the next.

Chapter Two
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    I t was the sunlight filtering through the window that began bringing Regan out of sleep, the type of crisp light that only existed mid-spring and mid-fall. Eyelids tightened in reflexive action, but the damage was done. Sleep was ebbing away in small strokes, and she stretched her arms overhead, the clink of chains in her ears and the bite of metal against her wrists.
    What the…
    Eyelids flew open.
    “You’re awake.”
    The smoky voice came from the corner of the room, with Regan following it to the source.
    He had his hands in his pockets and his one shoulder leaned against the wall, but the brightness of those gold eyes under thick bangs and thick brows and the intensity he exuded belied the casualness of the pose, as did the way weight was distributed in his stance, the way the muscles bunched and relaxed – all telling of a man ready to take on an enemy at any moment.
    His black hair was messy, suggesting hands running through it dozens of times. Clothing was rumpled. Nice layer of stubble. Beginnings of dark circles under those eyes.
    “From last night. Outside the bar. You’re-”
    “The big bad wolf? Yeah.” His voice was husky and appealing, an underlying sharpness to every syllable. His mouth formed twisted up, formed something just shy of a smirk, but overriding it