Sold to the Wolves

  © Copyright 2020 by Pure Passion Reads – All rights reserved.

  1. Edition

  Title: Sold to the Wolves

  ASIN: B0873993G9

  Author: Jasmine Wylder

  Publication Date: July 2, 2020

  Publisher: Pure Passion Reads GmbH, Uferstr. 3a, 39307 Roßdorf

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective publisher owns all copyrights not held by the author.

  Sold to the Wolves

  Devil Mountain Wolf Shifters: Book Two

  A Paranormal Menage Romance

  by Jasmine Wylder

  Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  Thank You!

  Also by Jasmine Wylder

  About the Author

  Dedication

  To my loved ones B & B, who encouraged me to fly toward my dream:

  Let’s soar.

  Chapter One

  How do you plan a funeral for someone you’re glad to be free of?

  Sandra stared at the brochures that the two morticians, Tyler Vaughn and Max Bender, had spread out before her. She had quickly discarded the most expensive plans and opted for a closed casket so she wouldn’t have to look at her mother’s face and be reminded of all the years of abuse she’d suffered at her hands. Even now, she could imagine her mother peering over her shoulder at the options she had left and screeching angrily.

  “After everything I gave you, you’re going to burn my body instead of laying me to rest? My parents wanted me to give you up. Your father wanted me to kill you in my womb. I didn’t. I scrimped and saved and worked my fingers to the bone to make you into what you are now, and this is how you repay me?”

  Sandra closed the brochures, pressing her palms to her eyes. Her mother had never given any indication about what she wanted to happen after her death, even though she’d had plenty of time as the cancer spread.

  If you hadn’t stolen all my money and tanked my credit score, I might be able to pay for a half-decent burial.

  “I know this is difficult,” Tyler said as he sat beside her. His handsome face creased with sympathy, and Sandra had to fight the urge to roll her eyes at him.

  He had no idea what was difficult in this situation. It wasn’t grief she was wrestling with so much as guilt. Even after everything that had happened, she should be feeling more sorrowful that her mother had just died, shouldn’t she? She should be trying to think of the best way to honor her memory, not trying to figure out the cheapest way to get this over with so she could start cleaning up the mess her mother had left behind.

  Even that pest-infested trailer her mother had lived in wasn’t worth anything, and now the trailer park was telling her she had to get rid of it or pay additional fees and fines. Everyone in Deville stopped to ask her what her plans were but only her book club had offered to actually help.

  Was there any part of her that was actually sad? Well, maybe she was sad that she never could have a proper relationship with her mother—but more angry than sad. Sandra had started working full-time at the local diner when she was fourteen. She’d dropped out of school and took as many jobs as she could from the farmers around town when she was sixteen and had spent every second since then working, saving, trying to get enough money to get out from under her mother’s thumb.

  When finally she was able to afford an apartment of her own, she found that nowhere in the city wanted to hire her because she didn’t have a high school degree, despite her work history. So then it was a matter of taking correspondence classes to get that in order.

  Now… Now, she might have to go back to the trailer. Deal with the rats and cockroaches until she was able to figure out what she could possibly do with this mountain of debt on her back.

  It would be cheaper than the apartment, she sighed as she pushed away all the funeral brochures. And I can shift to my wolf form and pee all over the place. That’ll drive the rats away at least. Maybe I can burn it down and convince the park board to let me live out of a shed.

  “Cremation,” she said out loud, folding her hands on the table. “As soon as possible so you don’t have to embalm or anything like that. As for the actual funeral…”

  Tyler patted her shoulder. “I know that you’re hard-up for money right now, what with planning for college.”

  She glared at him.

  “I heard it from Ian Lloyd.”

  “Who heard it from Angela.” She sighed. As much as she loved Angie, her best friend, she did have a tendency to tell things to her brother that were meant to stay between the girls. Angela meant well and Sandra knew that Ian could be pushy. He had that raw alpha power that made the omega in her want to show him her belly every time he was around. All the wolf shifters of Devil Mountain had that effect.

  Until they’d shown up, she was one of the very few wolves that lived around here. Then bam. Twelve insanely hot wolves show up. It was just her luck that they were all reclusive, rarely leaving their cabins in the mountains. With the exception of those who had jobs in town, she hardly saw any of them.

  Tyler was one of these wolves. His partner, Max, was another. And Angela’s brother was another. Ian Lloyd was… well, there wasn’t really any way to describe the deputy sheriff. Dangerous was one word that came to mind. Sexy was another. A grumpy jackass was also an apt description.

  “It’s okay,” Tyler said soothingly.

  It was remarkable to Sandra how easily he became the sweet, supportive funeral director. Up until now the only interactions she’d had with him were when he and Max were chasing skirts for the wild sex parties they held up at their shared cabin.

  Sandra shook her head. “I just don’t know how I’m going to pay for any of this.”

  A flash of doubt crossed Tyler’s face, but it was masked quickly enough. “You don’t have to make all your decisions right now. Max and I can ask around at the churches, see if any of them will let you rent their halls for a reduced price or free.”

  “Thank you.” Sandra didn’t really blame him for his doubt. The town didn’t know what sort of a thief her mother was. She had only told it to her five friends who made up the book club. Not even Angela would have told Ian just how hard-up for money she really was. From what the town knew, she was saving up money for college.

  So, when the funeral came and she kept it as cheap as humanly possible, everybody would think that she was skimping out so she could go to college quicker. In a town this size, she would be debated and judged for months to come, especially when she didn’t leave for college any time soon—her mother had seen to the destruction of that dream.

  Was it fair to be so angry with her, when her mother had been using that money for treatments, to try to live a little longer?

  She still paid thousands for things that weren’t working, after her doctor told her they weren’t working.

  Whatever. Nobody in this town liked her anyway. Ever since she was a kid, she was that little wolf girl. People still would nastily ask
her if she liked to run around naked in the woods—the answer to that was yes, if she was in wolf form because they didn’t make clothing to suit a canine body. Not that she had time to just go running around whenever she wanted to.

  “I have to get to my shift at the diner,” she said, standing. The cremation would happen and Tyler would get back to her about where the funeral could take place—Oh god, I’m going to have to give a eulogy aren’t I?—and right now she had to make sure she didn’t lose her most steady source of income.

  “Of course.” Tyler gathered the brochures and saw her out. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call myself or Max. And once more, we are deeply sorry for your loss.”

  Sandra nodded her thanks to him and jogged over to her bike. The frame was starting to rust in places and the chain would fall off if she tried to put it into a new gear, but it was cheaper than driving around a car—something she didn’t have and couldn’t afford to buy anyway. She had sold the car she did have to make her last monthly payments to the bank.

  If I declared bankruptcy, I’d at least be able to start over, she thought but shook her head.

  She had already looked into that—and the debts she most wanted to get rid of would not be forgiven if she did that. A couple of thousand dollars being removed from a hundred thousand wasn’t much. Maybe it would be worth it, though.

  She pushed those thoughts from her head as she rode her bike to the diner. When she started riding everywhere, her mother had snidely said that maybe now she’d lose weight—inexplicably, the opposite had happened. Sandra was curvier than ever. If I became anorexic, I’d be able to lose weight and save money on food.

  The sight of the diner filled her with enough anger and frustration that she was about ready to curl up in a ball and cry. Right now, she just wanted someone to sweep in and save her. At this point she didn’t care who it was, either. At long as he didn’t hit her or belittle her, he’d be a saint in her eyes. But at twenty-five the only men who really ever gave her any attention were married and she wasn’t that desperate yet.

  Although she had sold some feet pics online. There wasn’t a lot of money in it for her chubby ankles, but it was better than nothing.

  She was never going to get away from here, though. She was never going to be able to get out here, experience life. But that might be for the best, anyway. It wasn’t like she had a personality suited for grand adventures. Honestly if she did manage to get out there in the world, she’d probably end up sitting in a ditch, crying and waiting for someone to come along to murder her.

  She put on her brightest fake smile as she changed into her uniform. One of the best things about the night shift, besides a slightly higher pay, was the fact that the diner’s owner, Bill, was never around. He liked his sleep.

  Chloe, the other girl who worked nightshifts, rose her brows in shock at Sandra. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have some time off?”

  “I calculated how much money I save Bill by working and made him agree to pay me that amount rather than take time off.” Sandra smoothed her hair into a plain ponytail. Usually she kept it down because her face didn’t look quite so chubby when it was framed, but she didn’t want to bother with it today. “I need the cash more than I need the time.”

  Chloe took on a deeply concerned look. As one of the women in the book club, she knew more than most what sort of financial strain Sandra was under. “If there is anything I can do… I do need to do a deep clean of the cabin; if you wanted to help me with that, I could pay you. Or if you need a small loan—”

  “Thanks,” Sandra interrupted. “I think I can handle it alone, though.”

  There was no point in becoming a burden to her friends.

  Chloe tried to take the front and let Sandra work in the kitchen so she didn’t have to deal with people, but Sandra insisted that she was okay. She knew that Chloe hated dealing directly with the customers and besides, she needed the tips.

  Technically, the tips ought to be compiled and then split between her, Chloe and Bill but he wanted fifty percent for doing nothing, leaving the two who actually worked with only twenty-five percent each. So, they had devised their own system. Twenty-five percent went to Bill in order to keep him from asking too many questions, twenty-five percent to the cook and fifty percent to the waitress.

  Sandra’s heart sank to her toes when she walked out into the dining area to find it empty, except one person. Sheriff Reggie Howell. The last person on this earth she wanted to see.

  But she grabbed the pot of coffee and walked over, making herself smile. “Hi, Sheriff. What can I get for you today?”

  “Sit down,” Reggie told her without even looking at her. “We have something to talk about.”

  Sandra hesitated even as she pulled a chair out. “It would be best if you placed an order first. That way Chloe can start making it.”

  And be less likely to overhear us.

  Reggie cast an annoyed look over his shoulder and shrugged. “Fine. Have her fry me up some eggs and bacon.”

  “Yes, sir,” Sandra replied automatically and rushed back to tell Chloe the order.

  When she returned, the sheriff had her sit and then slid a red-bound notebook toward her. Sandra took one look at it and all the air left her lungs. She read it half a dozen times while Reggie sat there, looking smug and waiting for her to come to grips with what she saw.

  Finally, she looked up. “How?”

  The notebook had a very clearly written and notarized page of expenses charged to her mother. Her mother had signed a notice stating that her debt was to be transferred to Sandra upon her death. There was almost half a million dollars there! Sandra clutched her hands together, tears welling in her eyes. There was no way she’d ever be able to pay that!

  “Your mother made some bad investments, it seemed.” Reggie shrugged, his smile widening. “Shall we start discussing a repayment plan?”

  “I can’t… I’m barely making enough money to pay what I owe the bank and—”

  “And I know that you have a stash saved up for college.”

  Sandra turned her face away. “Had a stash. My mother stole it.”

  “You should have reported that to me, Sandra. After all, I’m the law in this town. I could have helped you out.”

  She sat there in misery, not knowing what to do or say or think. How was this happening? How was she ever going to make up this money? She wanted to rage that it wasn’t fair. Wanted to tell him that she wasn’t going to pay him a dime, that her mother had no right to sign off this debt to her. That it wasn’t going to hold up in a court of law.

  But he was the sheriff. He was the law. And she was just some waitress selling feet pics and working farm jobs under the table. He had far more on her than she could ever have on him.

  “There is a way for you to pay your debts to me,” he said, slipping a hand under the table to rest on her knee.

  Sandra’s skin crawled as she looked at him with wide eyes.

  “I run a… service. For lonely men looking for some company. Not prostitution,” he added at the horrified look on her face. “More like… let’s call it an intense blind dating service. Women put up their profiles and then the men prove that they can take care of them by offering up a certain amount of money for their companionship for a month or two. You would, of course, have to be there for them… meaning you’d have to give up this job, but it’s terrible anyway.”

  The predatory grin on his face made her want to scream but Sandra was silent. Half a million dollars. She shuddered as she closed the notebook. “And how much would I be paid for this?”

  Chapter Two

  Theron Bowden scowled fiercely as he stalked into the police station. Enough was enough. Ever since that fucker, Ian, had been hired as deputy sheriff things had gotten pretty damn annoying around here. It seemed every time he turned around, Ian was there dogging his footsteps just waiting for something he could harass Theron with.

  I get it, you don’t want me in tow
n. But have you considered if you don’t like being around me maybe it’s you and not me who should leave?

  Reggie was at his desk, watching porn—the sounds were unmistakable. He scowled when Theron walked up and slammed the latest parking ticket onto the desk. He didn’t care if he was interrupting something. Reggie could wank later. Let Ian deal with the consequences since he was the one who made this interruption necessary.

  “Your fucking deputy gave me another parking ticket,” Theron snapped at him. “I am getting pretty fucking tired of this. Put your dog on a leash or I swear to god I will sue this force to Mars and back.”

  Reggie lifted his brows, probably because he was surprised that Theron would refer to Ian as a dog. Among wolf shifters it was considered a slur—but as far as Theron was concerned, Ian was a dog. Not worthy of being called a wolf. No true wolf would skirt around with these passive-aggressive pokes and prods. No, they’d take the fight head-on.

  “This is the fourth one this week,” Theron continued. “And he’s been stalking me on the backroads, trying to get me for speeding. This petty nonsense is getting annoying.”

  Reggie zipped his pants and took the ticket, crumpling it into a ball. “I’ll take care of this for you.”

  “You’ll take care of Ian.” Theron leaned back. The ticket he couldn’t care less about. He had enough money that all of these tickets were nothing more than a drop in the bucket. What was annoying was the fact that Ian was always there.

  Sly, Alpha of the Devil Mountains, had told Theron he needed to stop provoking Ian. Stop trying to cause a fight. So, Theron had. He’d been backing off. Keeping to himself. Even going out of his way to avoid the other wolf. It wasn’t easy—it went against Theron’s instincts to try to placate someone like Ian. But the Alpha commanded and Theron didn’t exactly want to end up in a fight with Sly. He was big, mean and short-tempered.

  A little less short-tempered now that he had a curvy, juicy little mate to satisfy himself with but short-tempered all the same.