Rebecca Goings - B*E*A*S*T* Of Burden

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Champagne Books
www.champagnebooks.com

Copyright 2007 by Rebecca Goings

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NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Champagne Books www.champagnebooks.com

Copyright 2007 by Rebecca Goings

ISBN 1897261284

February 2007

Cover Art Chris Butts

Produced in Canada

Dedication

Somewhere in the Alaskan Wilderness

A split second after the shotgun blast echoed through the night, hot fire sliced through Rogan Wolfe's left flank. Uttering a cry laced with shock and pain, he went down, unable to run any longer. His soft grey fur was already matted with blood, and panic overtook him as he wondered if he was going to die in his shifted state. He tried to crawl away but knew it was futile, as his keen ears could already hear the approaching footsteps of the one who'd shot him. Soft whimpers escaped him, and he would have had tears in his eyesif he'd been human.

Deep despair tugged at him, and he cursed himself for making it all the way to the wilds of Alaska only to be shot by an over-zealous gunman who was moving in on his wife. Rogan growled at the thought, baring his teeth at his own frustration. His tail thumped on the ground as he tried yet again to pull himself further along, yet he had no luck. His leg was useless.

"Rogan." A familiar voice whispered to him from the foliage. "Christ, Rogan, shift! SHIFT!"

That was Wade's voice. What had he said to doshit? Rogan's head was reeling, but he heard Wade's voice hiss at him once again.

"Shift, you crazy bastard!"

Rogan understood that time. Wondering to himself why he should ever again do anything Wade suggested, Rogan took his advice and slowly shifted his body from a wolf into a human. The pain in his leg was sheer agony, and he cried out when he tried to move.

Within seconds, the gunman was upon him; Rogan knew because he could hear the man's sharp intake of breath. Pressing his forehead into the cold snow, Rogan could do no more than surrender, hoping the man had more honor than to shoot him in the back.

"Jesus, mister. You okay?"

"No, you idiot! Rogan's teeth were clenched as he said the words, trying to keep a civil tongue in his mouth. I've been shot!"

"I'm sorry! I was shooting at a wolf and ... I must have accidentally"

Rogan heard a commotion in the bushes before he saw Wade running toward them. Is everything all right? I heard gunfire!"

Shaking his head at his friend, Rogan sighed as he closed his eyes. Wade was almost as stupid as Justin had been. He should have stayed hidden! There was no reason for him to come running to Rogan's rescue.

"I ... he's been shot! The gunman sounded panicked. Why the hell is he naked?"

"Don't worry about that now! Wade exclaimed, shrugging out of his coat and tossing it to Rogan on the ground. Help me get him to shelter. Looks like it might snow again."

The two men hefted Rogan between them once he had the coat firmly around his hips, making him grunt in pain.

"What are you doing? Rogan demanded, resting his flashing eyes on his old friend.

"We're helping you, sir, Wade said, glancing at the man holding the gun. Just relax."

"Relax?" Rogan cried out when Wade's leg bumped his, making shards of pain shoot throughout the four corners of his body.

"I see lights up ahead! Wade said, pointing to the house Rogan had been circling in his shifted state a few minutes earlier.

"That's my ... girlfriend's house, the gunman said.

Rogan's head turned toward him. The man wore a heavy jacket and a furry hat, but all Rogan could concentrate on was his pulsing jugular. If he weren't in so much damned pain, he would have shifted to teach this man a lesson. Marlie wasn't his girlfriendshe belonged to Rogan! He growled low in his throat.

The man must have heard it, because as they limped toward the house, he glanced up only to shudder at the look in Rogan's eyes. Don't you worry about a thing, mister, he said in a shaky voice. We'll take care of you."

Rogan opened his mouth to say something, but he grunted when he felt a jab in his ribs. Whipping his head about, his gaze locked with Wade's, who adamantly shook his head a few times. Rogan narrowed his eyes and growled again, telling Wade without words that he wasn't too happy.

But within a few moments, nothing else mattered. There, on the porch step of the quaint house nestled amidst the snow and trees, stood Marlie Silver, the woman Rogan had been dreaming about for weeks at the B*E*A*S*T* compound. The woman he'd come all the way to Alaska to find.

His wife.

Marlie seethed when she finally caught sight of Kevin in the trees, but he wasn't alone. He and another man were flanking a third, helping him limp along to the house.

"Marlie, open the door! Kevin called out, his warm breath puffing in the chilled air.

"What happened? she asked, eyeing the man who was limping and wondering why he was wearing nothing but a jacket tied precariously around his waist.

"I shot him, Kevin replied. I was aiming for that damned wolf but got this guy instead."

Marlie gasped as she flew to the door, opening it wide to allow the men to pass through. I told you not to shoot it!"

Stumbling back into the warmth of the house, Marlie waited until all three men were through the door before she closed it behind them. That's when she noticed the blood.

"Kevin, he's bleeding everywhere!"

"I know, damn it! Kevin yelled, glaring over his shoulder.

Marlie ran into the bathroom down the hall, rummaging underneath the sink for her first aid kit. Fortunately, it was chock full of gauze. Being a vet and living in the wilderness made her prepared for anything. More than once, she'd nursed wild animals back to health. Now her supplies were needed for a full-grown man. She just hoped she had enough.

Damn Kevin and his damned macho bullshit! So what if there was a wolf outside? They lived in Alaska, for Heaven's sake. Wolves and bears were a way of life. But the moment he'd seen the creature out the window, he'd grabbed her grandfather's old Winchester shotgun and ran down the porch steps before she could stop him.

Shaking her head, she knew now was not the time to berate him for wanting to play hero. A man was shot, and she had to worry about him for the moment. Dashing back into the living room, she could see they'd moved the injured man into her dining room, laying him down on her expensive dinner table. Marlie stopped in her tracks, trying desperately not to scream that the table was solid mahogany when she saw that the wounded man had bled all over it.

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