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  Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2022 Raven Hush

  ISBN: 978-0-3695-0718-1

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Jessica Ruth

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  for every submissive who never thought you'd find your Dom

  PURGE

  Club Fray, 3

  Raven Hush

  Copyright © 2022

  Chapter One

  Killian

  “If you don’t back the fuck up, I’ll have no damn floor manager tonight,” Rafe seethed in my ear, pushing his beast out to rake his semi-formed beak against my neck.

  I ignored the wedge-tailed eagle’s trash talk, opting to slip my leg beneath my boss’s in a broad sweep that took his lean form to the mat. “Apples, mate. Apples.” I pointed a thumb backward at my own chest, then laid out a middle finger upright in his direction. “Oranges.”

  “I’m not here to make a fucking fruit salad,” my best friend and owner of Fray, our local shifter BDSM club, muttered.

  “Nope. But I’ll put you out with the rotten ones later.” I traded barbs, maintaining a cheerful smile just to fuck with him.

  “Your enthusiasm is noted. Now fucking hit me, fur-face.”

  “Granted.” I slapped him upside the ear for fun, then slipped past his decent block to aim a direct jab at his nose.

  Breath hissed between Rafe’s teeth as blood issued from both nostrils.

  “All right. Fight’s done,” Josiah called. The owner of the local shifter gym and boxing ring Reserve folded his arms over his barrel chest. “If you stain my shit with blood, I bill you. Twice.” He threw both thumbs over his shoulders. “Get the fuck out. I have to clean my equipment.”

  I made the mistake of looking at him. Or more precisely, looking past him. A swank of pink and pale gray feathers flitted past the glassed windows that lined the street front and disappeared around the corner that led to the office. The one thing that could steal my attention.

  Long enough for Rafe to clock me in the chin and give me a matching bruise.

  “Who’s going to be the bitch on frou-frou night now, Killian?” he gloated, hovering over my prone form.

  I stared at the swaying fluorescent lights behind his head that bobbed in a mesmerizing rhythm. “If you say so.” I pressed back and used my weight to handspring back into position. “Frou-frou night, you say?”

  Fray hosted themed nights for significant birthdays and other events. This year would be Lux’s twenty-fifth. The emu shifter was averse to pirates, drunks, and assholes, a talent for a bartender. In true fashion Rafe made sure the entire club knew it by theming a night in honor of her favorite color, pink.

  “Not up to the task?” Rafe jabbed in my direction as I ducked and weaved.

  Still trying to catch a glance of the lithe emu I was certain I’d seen a moment earlier, my distraction gave Rafe the opportunity to lay me out a second time.

  His broad form leaned over me, hand extended.

  I knocked it away. “Think we’re finished, boss man?” I leered at him, bringing out my inner asshole because he was my club manager, best friend, and because I could. Rafe wasn’t the only one who could trash talk, and I made sure he knew it.

  “Enough!” Josiah shouted from the edge of the mat.

  “Fine. Get your ass to work on time tomorrow.” Rafe tossed sweat-riddled hair out of his eyes with his glove. “And I need more information on a certain drug ring.”

  I dropped my hands and stopped dancing. “Are they in the club?”

  Before Rafe had gotten himself all distracted with a certain fluffy ass quokka, we’d looked at drug runners rampant within the shifter community. He worried about the effects on our shifters.

  Plus, it was a little hard to explain why a local wallaby had X in its system to a paramedic who didn’t know shifters existed.

  Knowing we were more robust than the regular homo sapien, I let it go. Our metabolisms worked fast enough to combat most drugs and besides, the choice came down to the person, not the organizer.

  Rafe liked to stick his head into the community, the great protector. And while I envied the support and awe he generated, I also knew when to back off and leave well enough alone.

  Sort of.

  My gaze flicked back to the glass, straining to see the flock of pink feathers that would herald Lux’s arrival, though she shouldn’t be here in the first place.

  Rafe muttered something that sounded like bullshit behind his fist.

  I shot him a glare and ducked out of the ring, thanking Josiah with a half bow.

  “She’s waiting in the foyer, my friend,” Josiah murmured, completing his customary bow from the waist after we had thrashed the shit out of each other in his ring.

  “Grateful for it.” I slapped his shoulder and grinned when he stiffened. J hated physical contact of any sort. That didn’t mean I refused to give it to him.

  All rounder asshole. That’s me.

  Above me, Rafe snorted. “Classy, Killian.”

  “Every day, brother.” I tossed his snark back at him and ducked beneath the ropes. Shoving my feet into my shoes, the laces still tied, and bundling my shirt against my sweaty chest, I grabbed my gym bag, gave both men a backward wave, and headed for the door.

  Bare-knuckle fighting achieved little in the long run, but it gave both Rafe and I a damn fine reason to nut our stresses out on each other rather than irritating the regulars who walked through our doors.

  Fray’s patrons did the right thing in general terms. They came, they laughed, they played, and came again—but a few broke the rules by intention, most notably the man who had abused Rafe’s sub and wife-to-be. Of course, we always had the odd one or two who made a name for themselves.

  Those were banned faster than they could claim unfairness. The groups were harder to pin down on account of their irregular pairings. Smart offenders alternated who they traveled with and what sort of activity they took up inside the club.

  Challenging enough to appear fair when I knew they deserved the street grazing their collective asses and damaging enough to be a royal pain in my ass. If Fray got a reputation for backing the wrong kind of patron, it fucked with the safe place Rafe worked so hard to achieve.

  Hence the bare-knuckle fights. We couldn’t beat the shit out of the offenders every time, so we took our angst out on each other. I hoped there was some sense of logic in that, because I had no better way to drown out woes than to duke it out in an even match.

  I turned into the empty foyer. Staring around the small, bare space with its eighties-esque green pile carpet, sterile white walls, and metal desk that could have doubled as a gurney, I paused. I could have sworn she’d been here a moment ago—there. A shimmer of pink-and-gray feathers drew my eye.

  Pivoting on my heel, I grabbed the gym’s front door before it closed on my hand and took the two street front steps at a run.

  And nearly toppled over the emu shifter I’d chased in the first place.

  “Big fellas don’t stop well, do they?” Lux mused, leaning against the wall beside the gym.

  I suppressed a grin that threatened to ruin the game we played. The little minx had been waiting for me.

  Two can play on your terms, Little Bird.

  A sheath of
long blonde hair tinted the palest pink hung in a sheet down her back, and stiletto boots gave the already tall shifter extra height. Still dressed in the skintight dark denim jeans she favored, her feathers partially transformed into a row of fluff that bared her stomach and most of her cleavage, she managed to steal every wisp of oxygen in the vicinity.

  “A gray’s strength finds its stride in the ring.” I held up a pair of matching split knuckles. “Seems it holds true for wedge-tailed eagle shifters, too.” We had managed to keep Rafe’s beast out of common knowledge, but I had no doubt Lux knew every detail that wandered in and out of Fray, including the staff's secrets.

  “And here I thought you were all bounce and puff.” She wrinkled her nose as she pushed off the wall and fell into step beside me.

  “You know a kangaroo is more than the stereotype.” I faked horror at the thought, but couldn’t help casting her a sideways glance.

  Lux always had her shit together. Even when her not-favorite drunks arced up at last call, she managed to extricate herself without raising her voice to offer the smallest but cutest fuck you smile. The few times I’d seen her play in the club’s lower rooms for harder connoisseurs gave me an insight into the sassy-as-fuck bartender I drooled over in my spare time.

  One: she never had sex with anyone.

  Two: she never bared up for anyone.

  Three, and my utmost favorite of my short but sexy list: by all that was unholy, she loved pain.

  And what does a sadist like me want more than a little pain slut to satisfy his every need? Mind, if I met her anywhere else, I’d throw it all aside to worship the sassy bartender—she had dug her way that far beneath my skin. But she was staff, and that put her off limits.

  My rules, not Rafe’s.

  Nor did they apply to anyone else.

  If the rest of Fray’s staff wanted to fuck themselves silly, I was good with it, providing they did their damn jobs and turned up on time.

  I eyed the silver band she wore at her throat in lieu of the real thing. Lux didn’t belong to anyone, hadn’t been in a relationship or dynamic as long as I’d known her, but the collar she wore prevented customers from hitting on her with any regularity.

  I cleared my throat. “Played with James lately?” That one sort of fell out without permission. I was too much of an arrogant ass to own the mistake, so I stared straight ahead and walked on.

  “Not in the last few weeks.” Lux hesitated at my side, then thrust something at my chest.

  Light reflected off it, glaring out my vision. “What the—girl, are you trying to damage me?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time,” she sassed me back.

  I let my grin spread across my face this time. “Truth.”

  She’d made a point when she first started working at Fray of tripping me whenever I encroached on her bar space until I took the belated hint and backed off. After that, the little emu shifter sassed me whenever I tried to give her an order, and a sort of impasse sprang up between us.

  “Are you working all night again?” She asked her question in a soft tone that didn’t fool me for an instant.

  “Again? Taking notes, Little Bird?”

  A hot pink flushed straight to her cheeks, complementing the pale pink she’d dyed over what I thought was her natural blonde. I wondered if it matched her nipples.

  “No—” she stuttered, then cleared her throat. “No. But don’t fuck with my bar while I’m not around. I spent all night restocking the thing and cleaning all the mirrors.”

  “I promise I won’t touch it.” I held my hands up in surrender, the key to the back of the club gripped in my fingers. “Are you expecting a delivery?” I checked my watch. Well after midnight, on an early close. My lips pursed. The fuddy-duddy protector in me wanted to tell her she should have been in bed long ago.

  The sadist in me wanted to take her into the bowels of the club and show her what I could do to satisfy her own twisted cravings. Maybe if I…

  Cold night air assailed my face. I sucked it deep into my lungs, praying to an unseen god for clarity.

  Nope, I still want to fuck the feathers out of her tight little body.

  This was why I needed rules. And maybe an adult.

  “Maybe.” She ran her fingers through her hair, twisting a few strands so they caught at the back and stayed off her face. “There’s a few late orders, but nothing urgent. Yet. I need—” That same hesitation again, and a sideways glance through her lashes my way.

  “Need what?” I brushed my knuckles against the back of her hand. “Lux?” I coaxed.

  She didn’t answer me, but her speed increased.

  I frowned, matching her stride. My long legs wouldn’t allow her to get away from me that easy. She might be tall for a woman, her height increased by the spiked-heel ankle boots she favored, but in her usual form she was no match for my mid-six-foot frame.

  “Come on, Little Bird. No need to run from me.”

  She shot me a sharp glance, and I knew the barb hit home.

  For all the stories Lux earned, the secrets she collected, her story was known to one person at Fray, and in our community, as far as I knew. My best friend held firm to his silence, pushing that it was her story to tell when she wanted to share. He called it resolve.

  I called it arrogant hogwash.

  Despite my efforts, over three years into working with Lux, I still hadn’t cracked the tough exterior she kept wrapped around her.

  “I’m not running,” she bit out. Her step increased until her walk resembled a jog.

  We neared the corner. Fray took up an entire block, half a mile up from Reserve, one of the reasons we frequented the gym. That, plus Reserve remained one of Melbourne’s few shifter-safe environments.

  Fray was another.

  Except for the assholes peddling the drugs Rafe hated and the bigotry that riled me. If we could eradicate those things, I’d be a happy shifter.

  But that corner kept on getting closer, which meant I was about to lose her for the night. What bothered her about the club at night? She wasn’t afraid of the dark. I squeezed my eyes shut tight for a moment and prayed I was wrong.

  “You got yourself a stalker, Little Bird?”

  “Stop calling me that.” She straightened and glared at me from beneath thick, curled lashes she’d dotted with bright pink jewels.

  On anyone else it would have looked over-the-top. On her, it increased her edge.

  “So, do you?” I caught her bare elbow between two fingers before she could turn down her street and dash into the darkness. “Should you be walking around alone out here?”

  “I’m fine, Killian. I can look after myself.”

  “By running as fast and as far as you can.” I couldn’t help it. The asshole in me really had come out to play. “Lux, I’m sorry. That was—”

  “The same stereotype you didn’t want me to believe a second ago.”

  “Yeah.” I rubbed my tenderized jaw, noting the rising bump where Rafe had gotten a free hit in. Fuck, I’d take ten if it meant spending more time with her. “You know how to fight, Little Bird? Has Rafe given you lessons?” He offered self-defense classes to any shifter who wanted them.

  Rules are made to be broken.

  Not my rules. Those had no flex. The most I could do was protect her in a manager-staff relationship, make sure she got home all right, and that the club continued to be a safe place for her and anyone else we allowed through the doors.

  Bullshit, bullshit, fucking bullshit.

  My teeth ground together hard enough for Lux to wince.

  “Stop that.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” She smiled, her head canted to one side. The snark she wore like armor softened, and she let me draw her a little closer. “And no. He—” She hesitated, mulling on the thought. “I decided not to go ahead with it. The lessons,” she clarified.

  “Maybe I could teach you, if you like.” The air between us thickened. I couldn’t draw a breath, but I’d
willingly suffocate for the woman inches from me.

  My fingers slid a lazy trail down her arm to circle her wrist. Nothing more; I didn’t pull her to me, dip my head, and bruise her lips with my mouth or spin her around and discover every tender spot that could make her moan or scream.

  Large, deep blue eyes stared up at me, the jewels surrounding them highlighting their fathomless depths.

  “Lux—” My voice cracked. That was as far as I got in whatever crazy decided to make an appearance and screw with us both.

  “Fucking unclean piece of shit!” a voice screamed close enough to raise hairs on my back. A car whizzed by us and around the corner way too close. Bald tires mounted the gutter, swerving around a lamp post that could have t-boned them all.

  “Jesus fuck,” I growled. My arms wrapped around Lux’s tiny waist. I backed her against the building in a stride, my arms braced either side of her in a meager form of protection. But fuck me if I’d let some asshole run her down after a pint too many and making the stupid ass decision to drive home.

  The car disappeared along the road, a single taillight and a pair of black stripes left on the footpath the sole evidence of their stupidity.

  A tiny, choked sound brought my gaze back to lock onto hers, and I froze at what I read in her pale, taut features.

  Shame.

  “Hey, pretty girl. Ignore those fuckers. They’re idiots. Did I hurt you?” I leaned into her space, grazing my knuckles over her icy cheek as I checked her for injuries. One hand slipped behind her to make sure I hadn’t thrown her back against the brick wall too hard, but she didn’t wince at my inspection, staring at me with wide eyes.

  “Your sweat is stuck to my feathers.” Her breath came in short, shallow pants, and I knew she was running on automatic.