Free Half Wolf (Alpha Underground Book 1) by Aimee Easterling Page A

Cinnamon toward breaking camp, though, pounding footsteps drew my gaze away from our prisoner. Quill was running flat out toward us, hair soaked and only pants in place. “What happened?” the cowboy shifter demanded as he took in the jumble of wolves and camping paraphernalia dotting the site.
    Despite my best efforts to keep my weaker half asleep, surprise combined with morning-fuzz brain woke the inner beast. With her at the helm, our eyes skimmed briefly across our newest member’s six-pack abs, following the line of hair at the bottom of his flat belly until it disappeared behind his massive cowboy buckle. Quill hadn’t taken the time to don shoes, I saw, but he had cinched his belt shut.
    Too bad. The male’s physique was impressive even by werewolf standards.
    Mirroring my wolf’s appreciation of the man-candy before us, Ginger hummed her interest in the cowboy shifter’s half-clad body. But Hunter was less impressed. The uber-alpha’s growl was low but intense, raising hairs on the back of my neck and changing Quill’s body language from concern to aggression. Just what I needed—a fight within our own ranks to complete our pre-breakfast exertions.
    Figuring the trouble twin’s avid admiration wasn’t helping matters, I dealt with the most likely source of strife first. “Ginger, you can join Cinnamon with the packing,” I said firmly. In response, the teenage wolf shot me a grumpy glance before stretching upwards onto two legs, losing fur and gaining human characteristics as she rose.
    But even though she followed my order to the letter, I didn’t miss the way Ginger jutted out her naked chest and brushed up against Quill despite having plenty of space to walk around. As usual, the twin was complying...albeit grudgingly.
    I wasn’t surprised by Ginger’s flirtiness, nor was I surprised by the cowboy shifter’s response. What red-blooded American male wouldn’t glance down at the erect nipples grazing his bare chest? A smirk lit Quill’s face, proving that he liked what he saw, and I could tell it took an effort for our newest pack mate to refrain from reaching out and touching the merchandise being put so boldly on display.
    But that issue soon became irrelevant when an overwhelming aroma of rotten bananas filled the air. Pop. Pop, pop. Pop, pop, pop, pop.
    The first wolf to reanimate was the one I’d fought against at the very end of our battle, but soon all seven beasts were once again set into motion. Only the boy crumpled at our feet remained still, and that was only due to Hunter’s quick thinking rather than to his previous compulsion. Before I even realized what was happening, the uber-alpha had lunged forward to physically pin the teenager to the earth using the force of his front paws.
    Which left one enemy on the ground...and seven standing against us.
    “Shit.” The word slipped out of my mouth without conscious volition, but I stood by the sentiment nonetheless. My clan hadn’t done so badly in the preceding fight, but I had a feeling we’d fare much worse a second time around. After all, I’d just sent three of our crew away in human form, and they’d be hard-pressed to fight if forced to make a second rapid shift after such a short recovery period.
    Plus, I’d made the beginner mistake of abandoning my sword on the ground where it fell, which left me entirely defenseless. Some alpha I am.
    Hunter’s growl ratcheted up another notch, and Lia’s furry body pushed up against the uber-alpha’s side to either give or receive comfort. Our odds of survival weren’t good even if Quill turned out to be adept at speedy transformations, which was far from a given. My own pack mates had learned the trick from our previous bloodling alpha, but most shifters took quite a while to change shape even under the best of circumstances. With angry werewolves out for blood to distract him, Quill might not manage to shift at all.
    As I wracked my brain to think of some weapon I’d forgotten,