Buried and Shadowed (Branded Packs #3)
Read Buried and Shadowed (Branded Packs #3) Online
Authors: Alexandra Ivy,Carrie Ann Ryan
Table of Contents
A Note from Alexandra and Carrie Ann
About Carrie Ann and her Books
Buried
and
Shadowed
A Branded Packs Novel
By
Alexandra Ivy and Carrie Ann Ryan
Buried and Shadowed
A Branded Packs Novel
By: Alexandra Ivy and Carrie Ann Ryan
ISBN: 978-1-943123-13-1
© 2016 Alexandra Ivy and Carrie Ann Ryan
Cover Art by
Syneca
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All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination.
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Buried
Gibson Barton knows his Pack is on the verge of something they will never be able to prepare for: a chance at freedom. Yet when he’s finally able to open his eyes to what might be his fate, it could be too late.
As a submissive wolf of her Pack, Mandy Calhoun has always only watched Gibson from afar. Because of her fears, she hasn’t let her intentions toward him—or the other in her sights—be known.
Oliver Dare is the Foreseer of the Ursine Pack, and knows with each vision, his death is that much closer. Yet he cannot see his own future—or that of the two wolves who have been thrust into his path.
There is danger lurking in the den, and as the three learn to process their emotions and navigate their temptations, they’ll have to fight for something they never knew they had—or sacrifice it all for a purpose far greater than their own destinies.
Shadowed
Sinclair, Alpha of the Unseen Pack, is determined to destroy the Shifter Accommodation Unit. He understands that his people will never be free until the truth is revealed and their enemies are brought out of the shadows and exposed to the public. Unfortunately, the human female who has been secretly working with him has disappeared, and his priorities must shift slightly. He’s resolved to track her down, and not just because she has the information he needs.
Mira Reese isn’t stupid. She’s painfully aware that the sexy shifter she’s been working with has been using her fascination for him to gain access to the CDC computer system. But that doesn’t stop her from helping Sinclair. Not when it allows her to be close to him. But after the CDC kidnaps her, she realizes that this isn’t a game. She’s a potential savior for the future of the shifters—and perhaps especially the loner wolf who stirs her passions.
Sometimes covering a scar, a brand, didn’t feel like a thousand needles pressing into flesh and tearing through a person’s soul; sometimes, it added something new and precious. Something with promise.
At least that’s what Gibson hoped.
A breeze slid his hair in front of his face, and he blew on it before pulling away from his friend’s arm and knocking his head back so he could see again. His bangs were getting too long, but he didn’t have the time or inclination to cut them.
Anya, the mate of his best friend Cole, stood behind him with a hair tie and pulled the strands back. “You need a haircut, Gibson.”
Cole, the man he was currently tattooing, watched Gibson with narrowed eyes. They might be best friends, but Anya was a little too close to Gibson for comfort apparently. That’s what happened at the start of new matings. The males—and hell, the females, too—got a little territorial when it came to what was
theirs
. Gibson couldn’t really blame Cole for wanting to rip out his throat right then.
“You might want to take a step back there, momma bear,” he said casually.
Anya, a slender, decently tall woman, stood back and moved so she was in Gibson’s line of sight. Her two cubs from her disastrous first relationship bounced around her feet in bear form. They were seriously adorable.
She looked between Gibson and Cole, her brows raised. “Seriously, lazy cat? I was just putting his hair back so he didn’t mess up your mating tattoo.”
Cole blinked up at her, a smile lazily forming on his face. There was a reason Anya called her mate
lazy cat
, the man moved slowly and with a sense of ease Gibson never understood. Of course, that was only when there wasn’t danger to Anya, the cubs, or the Pack. If someone came after them like they had before, well, no one would ever call Cole lazy then.
“I just love watching you get angry,” Cole said before he winked. “You get all hot and bothered.”
Anya snorted but didn’t look angry at all right then. Their cubs, Owen and Lucas, rolled around on the floor around them, oblivious to the current conversation. At least he thought so, since the cubs were oddly observant when he wasn’t paying that much attention.
Since the newly mated pair was currently in a deep conversation about nothing, Gibson set his tattooing equipment down and rubbed the back of his neck. Of course, he probably could have redone his hair in a new ponytail, but he liked the fact that Anya had done it, merely because it rankled Cole. That’s what best friends did, after all, bugged the shit out of each other.
Before the three Packs—Canine, Ursine, and Feline—had been forced together in the single compound a few months ago, Gibson never thought to find friendship with a Feline Tracker. Now, he couldn’t imagine his life without the other man.
Cole understood Gibson in ways others didn’t because he didn’t push. The other man let him be; let him breathe. Gibson
liked
being alone, watching from afar. He didn’t get too close to others, and other than his Alpha, Holden, he didn’t speak to the other wolves much.
He never felt like he could honestly. Because he was the one in the Pack, and now the entire compound, who had the ability—and responsibility—to mark those who had already been branded.
When the Verona Virus had hit the human population a quarter of a century ago, his people had been forced out of hiding in order to save the human race. He’d only been ten at the time, but he remembered it vividly. He remembered the fear, the death, and the entrapment. When the humans found out about the existence of shifters, they created the Shifter Accommodation Unit, aka the SAU, and forced everyone not like them into compounds.
Gibson’s family had died in the ambush, and he’d been forced to find a way to live without them in this new world. Until recently, he’d only seen the SAU guards and wolves. Now with the bears and cats with him, he had a little more variety, but it was still a solitary existence.
Mostly because it had to be for him.
When the humans took their freedom, they’d also forced the shifters to wear collars like animals and bear the brands of their species. And because those in the SAU were sadistic weasels, they forced the wolves’ Alpha, Holden, to be the one to brand them. His friend and Alpha was made to burn the flesh of his people in front of the Pack so the humans could feel superior. As children were born in the den, they were forced to wear the brand, as well. Thankfully, the humans didn’t understand Pack magic, and didn’t know that Holden was the one who felt the pain with each brand. Holden had to hold back the screams and teach the children to play at being in pain so they wouldn’t get caught.
Gibson knew he’d never fully understand the depth of his Alpha’s love and loyalty to his Pack, but he’d do anything he had to in order to protect those bonds.
And that was why he’d been the one to learn to tattoo, to be the one who made each brand special, rather than something from the SAU. He learned to trace over raised flesh with ink so the brand looked like something they’d want, rather than something thrust upon them. He also added to one side of the tattoo with a special design that spoke of the individual Pack.
There were dozens of compounds littered around major cities in the US and the world. Through their own spy network, the shifters had been able to come up with a way to make their own designs for ink around the brand. It was Gibson’s job to make sure each and every Pack member had it. Of course, he waited until each shifter was of age and sound mind to do it, but he was the one who tattooed each and every wolf in the den.
And because the cats and bears had no one with his talent, he did theirs, as well. In the past decade, he’d been the one to sneak off the compound to the cats’ and bears’ places to do their tattooing. While he could have taught others to do it, he felt like he was the one who
had
to. It seemed ridiculous in retrospect that he’d risked so much to do what he did, but at the time, he knew he had to. And the Alphas of the other two Packs had been welcoming—even if some of the others hadn’t wanted his kind to touch them.
Yet every single one had his ink.
Hundreds of shifters wore his mark, his work, and yet he felt closed off from them. As if he were on the outside looking in because he was the one who had to cause them more pain.
“You okay, Gibson?” Cole asked, his voice low.
Gibson looked up at his friend and nodded. He didn’t speak much since there wasn’t a reason to. His work would speak for itself, and not just the Pack tattoos. He also did other work for any shifter who wanted a tattoo that was
theirs
and not the Pack’s or the SAU’s.
That meant he was always busy. But he liked it. As long as he didn’t have to think too hard about
why
he wanted to stay busy, he was fine.
“Want to finish this another time?” Cole asked, worry on his face.
Gibson shook his head. “I’m good,” he grumbled, his voice rusty from lack of use.
“If you say so,” Cole said wearily. “We can do Anya’s mating tattoo tomorrow if you need a break.”
“Really, Gibson, I’m good with waiting.” Cole wrapped his arms around her hips as she stood next to where her mate sat. Gibson held back a sigh.
He was happy for them, truly. If anyone deserved a mate and a happy ending, it was these two. They’d been through hell for one another and their Packs, and this mating would ensure the Packs’ health as well as their own.
So Gibson would complete the other part of his role and work on the mating tattoo for them. It was the least he could do. On the other side of the brand, opposite the Pack symbol, when a couple or triad mated, they had their own design inked on their flesh. That way, once it was completed, they held a full circle: of shifter, Pack, mating, and future. Without all of it, the design looked unfinished, as if it needed more for a person to stay whole. He stole a glance at his own design, one he’d inked himself, though he knew he could have probably found another to do it for him.