Read Online Books/Novels:
Thrown to the Wolves (Big Bad Wolf #3)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:
Agent Cooper Dayton is going to meet his boyfriend’s werewolf family. Unarmed. On their turf.
And he’s bringing his cat.
When Agent Cooper Dayton agreed to attend the funeral for Oliver Park’s grandfather, he didn’t know what he was getting into. Turns out, the deceased was the alpha of the most powerful werewolf pack on the eastern seaboard. And his death is highly suspicious. Regardless, Cooper is determined to love and support Park the way Park has been there for him.
But Park left him woefully unprepared for the wolf pack politics and etiquette. Rival packs? A seating order at the dinner table? A mysterious figure named the Shepherd? The worst is that Park didn’t tell his family one key thing about Cooper. Cooper feels two steps behind, and reticent Park is no help.
There are plenty of pack members eager to open up about Park and why Cooper is wrong for him. Their stories make Cooper wonder if he’s holding Park back. But there’s no time to get into it…as lethal tranquilizer darts start to fly, Cooper needs to solve the mystery of the alpha’s death and fight for the man he loves—all before someone else dies.
Follow Agents Dayton and Park’s turbulent relationship from the beginning. Read The Wolf at the Door and The Wolf at Bay, both available now from Carina Press!
This book is approximately 80,000 words.
|Books in Series:|
|Books by Author:|
Sweeping green hills that twisted and overlapped one another like bodies embracing under the bedsheet. Dramatic cliffs tumbling abruptly into the dark sea that tossed and turned far below but still stretched so far that it touched the sky. A winding, never-ending road that seemed to balance and dance along the very edge of the world. It was the sort of place where you could picture someone in a flowing white dress running through the grass to meet their beloved. A timeless, romantic place where breasts heaved, affairs scandalized and love was something to be declared.
Cooper Dayton looked up from the picture-perfect guidebook he’d picked up in the Halifax airport and out the car window. No one in their right mind would be caught running around in this. Certainly not in a dress, flowing or otherwise. Everywhere he looked there was snow. Filthy snow plowed to the roadside, creating bumper-like barriers, clean snow that dragged and drooped the many pine trees that covered the surrounding mountains and hills, snow that looked more like mist as it hovered and danced just above the icy asphalt. It was cold—even inside the car—desolate, unwelcoming and so goddamn bright Cooper kept having to close his eyes just to avoid seeing spots. February was not when he’d have chosen to come to Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, but then again, this wasn’t supposed to be a vacation or romantic getaway or about him at all, really.
Cooper pretended to look back down at the guidebook but instead slyly examined the man in the driver’s seat and the reason he was on this godforsaken trip to begin with. Oliver Park was as stiff and unwelcoming as the landscape around them, with his own distinct frostiness to boot. There were thin lines of tension like parentheses around his mouth and dark circles under his warm amaretto eyes. His gaze seemed soft and unfocused, not the most reassuring thing considering the brutal cliffside hills he was steering them up and down.
“I’m fine,” Park said, and Cooper jumped. So much for being subtle.
“Of course you are,” he said quickly. The sounds of the struggling heater and occasional crunch of tires on ice washed over them for a long minute. Then two. “But if you wanted to talk—”
“Cooper.” Park’s voice was flat, empty, emotionless. Devoid of the tenderness, amusement or—most commonly heard—exasperation that usually accompanied Cooper’s name. Empty of anything at all, as it had been since receiving the phone call that brought them here.
“I’m fine,” Park repeated quietly, gentler this time, but still distant and hollow. Carefully he navigated the long curve of the road and started back down a treacherous hill.
“Okay,” Cooper said, all ease and acquiescence. But the deep, pulsating worry buried at the bottom of his gut flared up again. Not fine! Mayday! Mayday!
He shoved it down again. What else could he do? For once, this had nothing to do with him. He and Park were good. Great, even. Park knew Cooper was here for him. That he loved him. A fact that still made Cooper feel desperately vulnerable. Christ, he was practically squirming in his seat just thinking the words now. But Cooper knew Park loved him, too, and that helped.
After the catastrophe of last fall in Jagger Valley, a lot had changed. Cooper had been laid up with a broken tibia, recovering from surgery and unable to put weight on his leg while Park had been on suspension and spent most every day and night at Cooper’s apartment. Park had helped him adjust, wrangled the knee scooter into submission, cooked and cleaned when he couldn’t stand for long periods of time, and generally distracted him when the frustration that came from relearning what he could and couldn’t do for the second time in less than two years threatened to tip him over the edge from restlessness into depression. For just over three months Park had moved in with him, leaving only to shift, check in on his own apartment across town and occasionally meet up with friends. It had been…nice.
Then, almost a month ago, Park’s suspension had ended. He’d been back at the BSI on desk duty, Cooper’s cast had come off—replaced with a brace while he regained stability and muscle mass—the knee scooter and crutches had been donated, and Park had left.
Well, not left. That was overdramatic. They still saw each other several days a week. Nights, too, of course. But the clothes that had found their way into Cooper’s laundry basket, dresser and closet were missing, the phone charger by Park’s side of the bed was gone, and the absurd amounts of food that had been packed into the fridge had withered back to his own boring, pre-Park essentials.
Listed together like that, it seemed silly to be upset by such little things. Not that he was even upset. He was just… Well, anyway. He’d needed time to relearn his new reality. Again. For the third time now. Almost as if Park’s absence was as disruptive as a broken bone or a shredded gut.