The Shifter's Catch Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One – Edan

  Chapter Two – Isobel

  Chapter Three – Edan

  Chapter Four – Isobel

  Chapter Five – Edan

  Chapter Six – Isobel

  Chapter Seven – Edan

  Chapter Eight – Isobel

  Chapter Nine – Edan

  Chapter Ten – Isobel

  Chapter Eleven – Edan

  Chapter Twelve – Isobel

  Chapter Thirteen – Edan

  Chapter Fourteen – Isobel

  Chapter Fifteen – Edan

  Chapter Sixteen – Isobel

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  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.

  The Shifter's Catch

  A Paranormal Romance

  By: T.S. Ryder

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One – Edan

  Chapter Two – Isobel

  Chapter Three – Edan

  Chapter Four – Isobel

  Chapter Five – Edan

  Chapter Six – Isobel

  Chapter Seven – Edan

  Chapter Eight – Isobel

  Chapter Nine – Edan

  Chapter Ten – Isobel

  Chapter Eleven – Edan

  Chapter Twelve – Isobel

  Chapter Thirteen – Edan

  Chapter Fourteen – Isobel

  Chapter Fifteen – Edan

  Chapter Sixteen – Isobel

  Specially Selected Bonus Content

  Paranormal Shifter Romance Collection

  Vampire Romance Collection

  Contemporary Romance Collection

  Paranormal Shifter Romance: The Shifter's Secret Twins

  Paranormal Shifter Romance: Single Dad Shifter

  Paranormal Shifter Romance: Claimed by the Gorilla Shifter

  About T.S. Ryder

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  Chapter One – Edan

  The taste of smoke and blood was still thick on Edan’s tongue as he rushed through the hospital. Scents bombarded him, but he didn't bother to try to tell what was what. Spikes of pain jolted up his leg with each step he took. He ignored that as well, his heart in his throat and bile churning his stomach. The flames in his belly smoldered.

  "Where are they?" he demanded of a woman sitting at a desk.

  The nurse's eyes widened as she sprang to her feet. She bowed and Edan had to resist the urge to shake her. This was no time to stand on formalities! The charred remnants of his tuxedo clung to him like a second skin as he let out a burst of smoke.

  "Where are they?" he repeated, letting smoke billow from his mouth.

  "My lord, I—"

  Hands grabbed him from behind. Edan jumped, startled, half-turning to see one of his brother's personal guards. He tried to shake them off but two more joined the first and they dragged him back. One of them kicked his feet out from under him, twisting him to the floor. Flames flicked between Edan's teeth as he roared.

  "What is the meaning of this?" He managed to get one hand free and punched a guard in the stomach. The others bore down harder on him. "Where are my brothers?"

  A high, clear female voice rang out. "Stop."

  Edan growled, still struggling as the guard held him in place. His sister-in-law stepped into view. Her long, black hair was singed, the glittering evening gown she had been wearing when he had last saw her replaced by hospital scrubs. Black eyes bore into his own. Her pale face was smudged with soot and blood.

  "Let him go," she commanded. "Edan was in the car with us. He's not affiliated with the attack."

  The guard released him and he jumped to his feet. His natural inclination was to punch one of them in the face for daring to touch him, but they were only protecting their king. Clint, Edan's other brother, had been terribly injured in the explosion. Edan's stomach still churned when he thought of the foot sitting beside the car. It had to have been part of the guard who was blown to pieces. It couldn't be Clint's.

  Edan rushed to Zoelle. "Are you hurt?"

  She shook her head. "Nothing that won't heal in an hour."

  "Where's Clint? Where's Brant?"

  "Edan, I'm going to need you to sit down."

  Dread drenched his flames. They struggled to stay alive as he stared at the grim expression on his sister-in-law's face. His hands clenched and he opened his mouth to demand she answer him right away, but she grabbed his hand and dragged him to a private waiting room. There, she shut the door and pointed at a chair. He snarled but knew that Zoelle could be stubborn when she wanted to be. He sat still, perched on the edge.

  "Where are my brothers? Brant said he saw the accident and he was coming here to check on Clint—"

  "It wasn't an accident."

  Edan stared at her.

  "This is going to be difficult for you. There was a bomb planted in the car right behind Clint's seat. It's a miracle he survived. If he wasn't a royal dragon, he would have died. Brant did come here… and he tried to kill Clint. He planted the bomb. He drove the car off the cliff. He said it himself before the fled." Zoelle's eyes glimmered with tears. "I'm so sorry."

  Edan sprang to his feet. "No."

  There was no way. His two older brothers might not have exactly gotten along, but there was no way Brant would do this. He just wouldn't. Certainly not when Edan was in the vehicle with him. Even when Clint was too busy to deal with Edan when they were kids (or rather, when Edan was a child, since his brothers had both been nearly grown by the time he was born), Brant would always take time to spend with him. They were best friends. The thought that Brant would betray them…

  "You're lying," he said roughly. "You're… No. That’s impossible. I want to see my brother."

  "Clint is in surgery. He was bleeding heavily. There is no sign that his natural healing is kicking in."

  "Then Brant. I'm not going to believe these accusations against him until I hear with my own—"

  "Edan, he left." Zoelle's voice broke and she sucked in a deep breath, her hands pressed to her stomach. After a moment, she opened her eyes again. "After he attacked Clint, the guard tried to subdue him. He fought his way free and fled. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

  Her apologies didn't mean anything. Because there was no way his brother had done it. Edan dragged his hand through his black hair, his mind running around in circles. This couldn't be happening. This had to be a dream, a nightmare, the product of too much wine and . . .

  "I'm going to find him."

  He stepped toward the door but before he got there, it opened. His heart leaped to his throat and he threw himself forward, fully expecting his brothers to come in, laughing at the cruel prank they had played. But it wasn't them. It was a man with an exhausted expression wearing pale blue scrubs. Clint's scent was all over him – combined with the smell of blood.

  Edan's head spun, and it took all his strength to stay where he was. He wanted to launch himself at the doctor, to beat him into submission and demand to know what he had done with his brother.

  "My queen. My prince." The doctor bowed to both of them. "My name is Doctor Green. I'm the—"

  "I don't care. Where is my brother?" Edan exploded.

  The man flinched. Good. "We successfully stopped the bleeding and administered adrenaline to help stimulate
his natural healing processes. It's still early, but it appears that he's out of immediate danger."

  Zoelle made a whimpering noise and collapsed against Edan. Her body rocked with sobs and Edan comfortingly patted her back. His gaze remained on the doctor, though. There was more. He could see it on the man's face.

  "But?" He could hardly get the word to move over his dry throat.

  "There was significant damage. I'm afraid that even with our efforts, there will be—"

  "Dragons heal," Edan interrupted. "My brother is strong and he's a royal. We can recover from almost anything—"

  "My lord." Pity shone from the doctor's face. "Even dragons can't regenerate severed body parts. The king was missing a foot when he was brought in."

  Edan remembered the charred foot sitting next to the wreck that was their limo and his stomach churned.

  "We were able to save the rest of the leg, and the other one suffered some damage, but nothing too severe. However, even if we were to have the severed foot, there would be no reattaching it."

  Zoelle let out a pained cry. Edan held her tight as her knees buckled. He guided her to the chairs again and sat her down. She clutched at his shirt, her face buried in his chest. As much as he wanted to leave, find Brant, and make sure he was alright – he wouldn't believe that his brother had caused this – he was needed. With Clint injured and Brant missing, he was the next in line for the throne. His head swum. He had never wanted to be king. He had always been glad that he had two older brothers so that the responsibilities of the crown would never fall on him.

  "Prosthetics," he blurted as Zoelle continued to sob. "They do amazing things with prosthetics these days, Clint is going to be back up and walking around before we know it. He's tough. He's not going to let this knock him down."

  Zoelle pulled away from him. She wiped her eyes and nodded. "Yes. Of course. He's going to be fine."

  Her lip trembled again, but she didn't collapse. She stood and returned to the doctor, firing off rapid questions. Edan couldn't keep up with her, his mind swirling over and over. He had to find Brant, find out what was really happening. But he had to stay here. He had to make sure that the kingdom was safe and comforted in this crisis . . .

  His phone rang, making him jump. When he glanced at it, relief fell over him. He answered quickly. "Brant! Are you okay?"

  Zoelle's black eyes glittered as she whirled around. Edan ignored her, even turning his back so he wouldn't have to look at her.

  "Listen to me, little brother," Brant's voice was low and urgent. "I know you're going to hear a lot of things about me in these next few days but I need you to listen to me."

  "I know that you—"

  Brant spoke louder. "Everything I've done, I've done for the kingdom. Clint was never a good king or brother, and I can't watch him wasting your potential any longer. I can't watch him push our kingdom further into darkness. Whatever they say, know that I'm loyal. And I need you to remember that. I need to know you're on my side."

  "No," Edan's voice broke. "No, you didn't do this. You couldn't have. Clint is our brother and—"

  "I needed to take care of him before he had heirs."

  Edan’s heart actually hurt. It drove him to his knees as he shook his head. His eyes burned, his chest collapsing inwards. "No. No. Brant, just come in and we can talk about this. Whatever is happening, we can work through it. It'll be okay. We'll make it be okay."

  Brant sighed. "I'm sorry that you got hurt, little brother. I only meant to kill Clint. I hoped that wench he married would get hers, too, but I didn't know you were going to be in that car. Watch the skies, Edan. I am going to come back and I'm going to be king. I'll bring the kingdom to greatness."

  "Clint isn't dead. He survived and he's the king. He will remain king."

  A low hiss answered him. "He survived?"

  Edan dragged himself back to his feet. "He survived. It doesn't have to end this way. Come home, brother, and we can figure this out. Please. Think it through."

  "I've thought about this for years. Don't stand in my way."

  A click and the line went dead. Edan's hand dropped. His cellphone clattered against the floor and his head swam. How was this possible? A hand touched his arm, making him jump. He turned to see Zoelle. The doctor had disappeared.

  "What?" Edan snapped.

  Zoelle flinched. "You know that Clint and I struggled to conceive. The doctor doesn't think he'll even be able to have children now. And with Brant's betrayal . . . It means that you are going to have to produce an heir, Edan."

  "I don't—"

  "I know you never wanted a mate, but you have to act for the kingdom. Go find yourself a mate that you can have children with so that the king can have a successor."

  Edan stared at her for a long moment before he nodded. As much as he hated the thought of having to do this, it was necessary for the kingdom's stability. He sat down, overwhelmed by emotion. One brother almost dead. The other had tried to kill him. What a situation to bring a woman into. How did he even go about selecting one?

  Chapter Two – Isobel

  The jewels attached to the chains hanging from her ears tinkled as Isobel cocked her head, staring intently at the cards laid out in front of her. It was an old, worn deck – at least she had spent many hours shuffling, shifting, wrinkling, and otherwise scuffing them to make them appear that way. If her clients believed that they were handed down to her from her great-grandmother rather than something she had bought off a peddler in the street, they were much more likely to hire her to come back.

  Not that Lord Salish needed much convincing. The man was such an easy mark that he almost begged Isobel to take his money. The elderly man sat perched on the edge of his chair, watching her hand movements.

  "This is very interesting," she said, keeping her voice low. "The lovers card paired with death. Change is coming to your life. A huge change, something that will shape your destiny for the rest of your life. This change will come in the form of love. Normally I would say that this love could be a change of career or a new hobby, but in this case, it's very true. You are going to meet someone who will give you love and it will change you."

  "Love? At my age?" Salish looked doubtfully down at the cards. "Are you sure?"

  Isobel nodded. Rumor had it the old man had his eye on getting himself a new lady. Lucky that the cards reflected that.

  A dark-haired woman leaned over his shoulder. "You should tell him to heed the warnings of spirits but to be wary. Enemies and friends might be closer to one another than they seem."

  "There are spirits wanting to guide you, but you have to be careful. A friend may be an enemy and an enemy a friend." Isobel sat back and wiped her hand over her brow. Salish always kept his house too hot and the tattoos she'd painted on her arms earlier were beginning to smudge. "That is all for today. The spiritual energy has exhausted me."

  Salish caught both of her hands in his and kissed them eagerly. Isobel let her pale gray eyes wander across the opulent room. If she had a home half as nice as this, she wouldn't have to be pulling these jobs to keep food in her belly. Her thin, waif-like appearance helped with convincing people that she was truly psychic, but there was only so much a girl could take.

  If this kept up, she was going to have to stop putting as much into savings. That would mean it could take years longer to get what she wanted, though, and it was difficult for her to imagine waiting the three years she already projected it to be.

  "Thank you so much," Salish beamed at her. "Your pay has been transferred to your bank account."

  Isobel inclined her head in thanks, then headed outside. The woman trailed after her, yawning and rolling her eyes. When Isobel slid into her car, the other woman was already in it. Her bare feet pushed up onto the dash, short skirt riding up around her thighs.

  "What, no thank you?"

  "Thank you, Azalea." Isobel glanced at her companion. "I think that was the first time you've actually been helpful during a session. Usually you're sabot
aging me."

  Azalea shrugged. "I guess I don't understand. Psychics are supposed to be all so spiritual and be able to tell the future, and you're just a fraud."

  Isobel rolled her eyes as she drove away from Salish's mansion. "Not so much a fraud since I can talk to ghosts."

  "A ghost," Azalea corrected. "If I'm even a ghost. You yourself don't know what I am. Maybe I'm the result of your guilty conscience, telling you to return to the path of righteousness and stop wheedling people out of their hard-earned money."

  "It was this or prostitution, and I'm not ready to be murdered by some psychopath," Isobel snapped back. Her shoulders tensed as she entered into thicker traffic. "Besides which, people like Salish have more money than they need. He earns more in one hour than the average family does in a year – and for what? Sitting around on his ass being swindled by people like me."

  "And the truth comes out," Azalea purred. "This isn't about your need, it's about you taking from the rich because you're jealous that they have what you don’t."

  "Is not." Isobel pulled off the main road into a side street. "I need that money. You know how much it costs to get to the Phantom's Cave."

  The Phantom's Cave. It was the Mecca of all psychics and those sensitive to spirits. They said that even people without sensitivity could speak with spirits and have visions of the future there. Isobel wasn't sure if she believed in all the different stories she had heard, but if it would help her understand what Azalea was – and her own powers, or lack thereof – then it would be worth it.

  Unless she died. ‘Cause that was a possibility, too.

  "Hey, did you see that cutie?" Azalea bolted upright. Her head swiveled around. "Go back to that café."

  Isobel ignored her.

  "Go baaaaaaaack!"

  The screech put Isobel's teeth on edge. She yanked her steering wheel around, cutting into the parking lot in front of the car behind her. An angry honk answered her, but at least Azalea stopped screaming. Even if the ghost did look far too smug for her own good, it was better than Isobel getting her ear screamed off.