The final book in Carrie Ann Ryan's Talon Pack series releases in less than a week on January 8th! Read the first chapter now and preorder your copy!
About FOREVER BROKEN
Available January 8th, 2019
In the finale to the award-winning Talon Pack series from NYT bestselling author Carrie Ann Ryan sets, the final Brentwood must find his mate as the war with the Aspens comes to a close.
Cheyenne Liles has watched all of her friends mate into the Talon Pack and have their lives changed forever, one by one. She’s stood back, helpless to assist in the war with a rival Pack. But just when she thinks her time with the Talons is over and believes she should move on with her human life, the Aspen Pack Alpha takes matters into his own hands, altering her fate far more than a single mate mark ever could.
Max Brentwood used to be the smiling one, the only Brentwood who was somehow able to save his soul during the last Alpha’s reign. But his life was irrevocably changed one fateful day on the battlefield, and he was never the same again. Suddenly, Max is forced to face his future and make a choice when Cheyenne comes into danger: let fate decide, or watch his world crumble around him.
The shifters of this world have fought demons, humans, and themselves. Now, it’s time to find out who they truly are as the war between the Packs ends, and the moon goddess finally takes a stand.
FOREVER BROKEN releases January 8th, 2019 - preorder your copy now!
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Read the first chapter of FOREVER BROKEN:
Chapter One
Blood roared in Cheyenne Lyon’s
ears, but she didn’t scream. If she did, he
would win. And if he won, then all would be lost. It wasn’t just her life she
held back her pain for, but the lives of her friends. The only family she had
ever known.
This shouldn’t be how it turned
out.
She was supposed to be safe away
from the world that had darkened around her, away from the fighting and magic
that were so far out of her depth. The things that she, a woman of science, had
no hope of truly comprehending.
The man behind her that wasn’t
truly a man lowered his head to breathe on her neck, sending chills racing down
her spine. These weren’t the chills of anticipation that came from being with a
lover. Instead, they represented the dread that came from death, that portended
the uncertainty of her own fate.
“It’s almost ready. Soon, you won’t
have to wait for what’s to come. Soon, you’ll do your duty, and the next steps
will be taken.”
Cheyenne closed her eyes,
swallowing the bile that rose in her throat. She didn’t want to be here, didn’t
want to know why Blade, the Alpha of the Aspen Pack, wanted her. But she knew
she didn’t have a choice.
She was stronger than the tears
burning in her eyes, stronger than the need to run and hide from the monsters
that lurked in the dark. At least that’s what she’d always told herself when
she stood by her friends’ sides as they each found their mates and became part
of the Talon Pack; thereby, somehow becoming enemies of the Aspen Pack.
Enemies of Blade.
Cheyenne had fought alongside her
friends and their new people, their new wolves and lions and witches, as she
tried not to end up bleeding and dead because she was a mere human in the world
of the supernatural. She’d kicked and screamed and tried to fight when she been
too weak but had prevailed. The others, however, had been far too strong for
her to defeat on her own. She’d stabbed and killed when one of the Talons, Max,
a man who was now family to her friends, helped her.
He’d helped her.
But he wasn’t here to help her now.
She swallowed hard, aware that
Blade still stood behind her, either waiting for her to say something or just
wanting to hear himself speak. She had to focus on him, had to concentrate on
the present and not what she’d done in the past or who she’d fought alongside.
Cheyenne was a vet, she took care
of animals and those who couldn’t take care of themselves. Now, she was
surrounded by those who could turn into wolves and other creatures she didn’t
know and didn’t want to think about. Her friends had said there might be more
out there than wolves, witches, and cat shifters, but she’d tried to put that
out of her mind.
She’d always been on the outside
looking in. One by one—first Dawn, then Aimee, then Dhani—her friends had found
themselves deep in the world of darkness and change. And though Cheyenne had
only recently discovered the existence of magic and shifters along with the
rest of the human world, somehow, she’d been fully ensconced in it thanks to
her friends.
But she wasn’t a shifter, wasn’t a
witch. She hadn’t even reacted to the wards like the others had, either feeling
the magic too much like Aimee or feeling it differently the way Dhani had.
Instead, Cheyenne had felt nothing. She didn’t understand the lure of magic and
only liked science and indisputable evidence. And while the world beneath her
world, or rather the world that now ran alongside
hers intrigued her, she wasn’t part of it.
Her friends would one day move on
from her more than they already had. She was still aging, while they were not.
They were starting new lives, maybe even beginning families and growing into
their new powers, strengths, and matings.
And Cheyenne wasn’t part of any of
that.
As the last of her friends mated
into the Talon Pack, Cheyenne had told herself she was okay, that she would
find a way to move on and stay settled within the human world. She’d convinced
herself that she’d be able to fade into memory as her friends physically stayed
the same age, and she died a natural, human death.
As Blade breathed down her neck
again, standing silently behind her, waiting for something unknown to her, she
pulled herself out of those thoughts.
Because there would be nothing
natural about her death today.
She didn’t know why Blade held her,
and he wasn’t being forthcoming about his reasons. Maybe it was because she was
the weakest link when it came to the Talons. She might not be a member, but
since she’d fought alongside Max and had close friends within the den, maybe
Blade saw those connections and thought she was worth something.
Only she wouldn’t be. She wasn’t a
mate to any of the Talons or even the Redwoods—another Pack of shifters with
deep ties to the Talons. She wouldn’t be able to fight back because she didn’t
have a weapon and, unlike her friends, she wasn’t a weapon herself.
“It’s almost ready,” Blade
repeated, then moved to start pacing around the small room he had her in.
She didn’t know what it was, but she knew she likely wouldn’t
live when it was ready. She didn’t know how she knew that, other than a feeling
deep down that this was the end for her, no matter how hard she fought.
Her head ached, and she swallowed
hard, not relaxing because even though Blade was no longer directly behind her,
he was still close enough to rip out her throat on a whim. She’d been leaving
her vet’s office late, after hours, her back already hurting from an emergency
sock removal surgery on a lovable Lab with far too much energy, when someone
had come up from behind and put their hand over her mouth.
She’d screamed, kicked, and tried
to use her keys to claw herself free like she’d been taught in not only her
self-defense classes but also from Kameron, Dhani’s mate. He was the Enforcer
of the Talon Pack and had wanted Cheyenne and her friends to know moves to
protect themselves. Only her training hadn’t been as thorough as the others’
since she didn’t have claws or fangs to fight back with. Instead, she’d used
her body weight to try and throw the man off balance, but it hadn’t worked.
He’d been so much stronger than
her, and the more she fought, the harder he pulled and squeezed.
Then, he’d knocked her out with the
back of his hand on her face, a shocking slap that had set her ears to ringing
and had her teeth practically moving in her gums.
When she woke up, she’d been
chained to a chair, a dimly lit bulb flickering above her. She’d been alone,
cold, but thankfully still clothed. Her cheek stung, and she knew she probably
had a concussion.
None of that mattered though when
Blade stepped into the room.
She remembered his face, recalled
the look of him as he prowled toward her. She’d seen him on the news, had
spotted him in person when she fought by Max’s side, trying to keep both of
them alive even though she knew she wasn’t that much help.
Blade was evil incarnate, a true
horror in every sense of the word. He’d lost his witch in the last fight, and
Cheyenne knew that had cost him. Scarlett had apparently helped him cross the
lines of dark magic and move into the area where someone could lose their soul
if they weren’t careful. He’d tried to get at the Talons for numerous things
over the past few years and had nearly succeeded in wiping them out.
Blade had sent rogues over the
boundary lines, willing away their need to survive and instilling in them a
need to kill. He’d made those rogues break their bonds with their former Packs
and had hurt them, forcing them to do what he wanted. He’d kidnapped and
tortured Cheyenne’s friends, attempting to use them much like he might be using
her now: as a symbol of how weak he thought the Talons were. He’d attacked the
Pack with magic, taunted them, and used the human media to prey on them, as
well.
He’d broken so many edicts, yet he
was still free because he and those in his Pack were stronger than the Talons
and the Redwoods—possibly stronger than any other Pack and the humans put
together. According to Cheyenne’s friends, Blade wasn’t afraid to use dark
magic and risk the end of the world in order to get what he wanted. And because
the Talons couldn’t do that without killing their own like Blade was unafraid
to do, they were at a disadvantage.
And just a few days earlier, he’d
declared himself the Supreme Alpha of all the other Packs around the world.
Cheyenne had no idea what that
meant, only that it wouldn’t be good for her, not with the way Blade had looked
at her when he first walked into the small room, and certainly not with the way
he stalked toward her now.
Blade had kept her in the chair,
the chains loose enough that if she wiggled just right, she might be able to
get herself free. But he must have known that when he chained her up. It was
all psychological. Because, if she got herself out, she wouldn’t be able to get
past him. And if, somehow, he tripped or happened to be looking the other way
for just the instant she’d need to get through that door, she then had to hope
it was unlocked.
If it weren’t, then Blade would
kill her, or wait to murder her until it
was ready.
Whatever it was.
Even if she got past that door, she
didn’t know what was on the other side. She didn’t know who was out there or
where she was. She was probably on Aspen Pack land, but according to the
others, not all of the Aspens were on the side of their Alpha. Not all of them
agreed with the extent of their Alpha’s depravity. Even the Talon’s contact,
the Beta of the Aspens, Audrey, hadn’t been heard from in weeks, making them
all worry that Blade had found out about Audrey’s clandestine meetings with the
Talons and her true loyalties.
Blade hadn’t taken Cheyenne’s
phone, but it was deep in her jacket pocket, and she couldn’t reach it. She
didn’t know if he was unaware that she had it because he and his men hadn’t
searched her, or if he knew she had it and didn’t care.
Because he knew she had no hope of
escape.
No chance of rescue because no one
knew she was gone.
How could they? She lived alone,
worked late, and no one cared where she was at night. They all assumed that she
was safely tucked in bed and far away from the world of the Packs and the war
surrounding them.
Only, she wasn’t.
And the idea of hope was getting a
little harder to grasp onto with each passing moment.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
Blade asked, coming around to face her. His hair was getting a little long,
sliding over his forehead and into his eyes. He absently brushed it back as he
bent down in front of her. His breath smelled of peppermint, his teeth were
perfectly straight, and if he weren’t an egotistical maniac with a homicidal
streak bent on world domination, she might have considered him attractive. As
it was, he reminded her of what she’d imagine a demon might look like.
Smooth moves, and a slick attitude.
The bearer of death.
“No, I don’t know why I’m here,”
she bit out. She wasn’t slurring, and though her head hurt, she didn’t see
double, so she didn’t think he’d drugged her. Why would he need to drug her
when he could overpower her in an instant?
He glared.
“Why don’t you tell me?” She knew
she shouldn’t have an attitude with him, but what did she have to lose? She
wasn’t getting out of this room alive. She knew that. There was no amount of
magic or prayers to a goddess she wasn’t sure she believed in that could save
her.
This was it.
And if she were going down, she
would do it with a fight. A fight for her life, and a fight for the woman who
Cheyenne was beyond the woman in chains.
Blade grinned, but it didn’t reach
his eyes. No, those eyes were dead, evil, and she didn’t know why the media had
believed him when he went on air pretending to be a human to put the Talons
under fire. There was nothing human about Blade. There was nothing good about
him.
“You should know, usually, I’d
never turn down a good monologue, but we don’t have a lot of time. I’ve been
waiting years for this moment, for the moon to rise at the perfect angle on the
one night when the power is the greatest—for the moon goddess to bless me with
what is needed.”
Cheyenne had no idea what he was
talking about, but whatever it was, she knew it could mean death for the
Talons, the end of her friends. That was what this man, this wolf, seemed to
want—at least in her opinion.
“You’re going to serve a specific
purpose, Cinnamon.”
“It’s Cheyenne,” she bit out.
“Does it matter?”
“It does to me.” She met his gaze
and didn’t drop her chin when his wolf came into his eyes. She only knew it was
that because the others had told her, and she had seen it with the Talons. A
gold rim glowed around his iris, pulsating with power. Blade was not a
lower-ranking wolf. He’d become Alpha because of his strength, or at least
because of his family line—she wasn’t sure on the mechanics of it all—but she
knew an Alpha couldn’t be weak.
And Blade wasn’t weak.
He snorted after a moment, then
continued. “I searched for over a century for the artifact and then waited a
few decades longer to work out the details. And you’re the final detail.”
He paused, and she swallowed hard,
knowing that she wouldn’t like what he had to say next. Of course, she hadn’t
liked any of it. And though her pulse raced, and she practically shook in her
chains, she listened to every word and knew that if, somehow, by the grace of
the goddess, Cheyenne found a way to survive, she’d tell the Talons everything
she knew.
Because she might not be a Pack
member, might not be a shifter, but she’d die before she let her friends get
hurt because of this monster.
“The artifact needs you. Well, it
needs blood to activate. And the fact
it will be your blood will be killing
two birds with a single stone.”
He pulled out a long, thin knife.
Cheyenne thought it might be called a stiletto, but she wasn’t sure.
“Actually, a single blade will
work.” He winked. “Pun not intended.”
Then he stood up, and she screamed,
pulling herself out of her chains as she bent down and wiggled. His eyes widened
a fraction, but then he schooled his features and came at her. She screamed
again, trying to duck out of his hold, but he was too fast. He was always too
quick.
He pulled her by the hair, the
stiletto close to her neck. She froze, leaning against his chest as she tried
not to rock forward onto the blade.
“Come with me.” He growled the
words and tugged her out the door, unlocking it with a key as he did.
She wouldn’t have made it, wouldn’t
have escaped, no matter how hard she fought.
She didn’t want to die today.
But it didn’t look like she was
going to have a choice.
The moon was just dimming in the
sky, the sun about to rise on the horizon. She must have been unconscious for
longer than she thought if a new day was about to start.
She wasn’t going to die on a Sunday
but a Monday—a thought she’d never thought to have. Blade pulled her close, the bile in her throat
so strong that she was afraid she’d throw up right on his shirt.
“The moon needs to be on her way
from the sky and into the darkness, for the light must come.” Blade smiled, and
Cheyenne knew tears were falling down her cheeks.
She tugged at his hold, trying to
get away, but she couldn’t.
“You will be our salvation. Blood
for blood. Blade for flesh. Sacrament for death.”
Then, he slid the blade under her
ribs, puncturing her lung but not her heart. She was a vet, had gone to school
to learn the anatomy of animals, but she had learned the anatomy of humans, as
well.
She knew he’d stabbed her there on
purpose so she would bleed out slowly, death taking longer than the seconds or
minutes of agony she might have otherwise endured. With her lung punctured, she
would lose the ability to breathe, would drown in her own fluids even as her
lifeblood left her.
She could already feel her
breathing become labored, feel her lungs fighting for oxygen.
Then, she was on her back, blood
slowly pooling around her as Blade stood above her. The moon was still
overhead, the sun slowly rising behind Blade’s back.
And in his hands, he held a stone,
hand-carved and almost brick-shaped, but she couldn’t tell what it was exactly.
Power leached from him as he squeezed it, his hands covered in her blood. The
hairs on her arms stood on end and it felt as if she were too close to a
lightning strike. And though the power had to be coming from the stone and into
him, it was as if he had so much in him now, he couldn’t contain it all.
Then she closed her eyes, afraid
that this was the end because it hurt to breathe, it hurt to see the power in
his hands. Because she wouldn’t be the only one who died for what he held.
When Cheyenne opened her eyes
again, Blade was gone, and the only thing she could hear was the wheezing of
her breaths. She swallowed hard, slowly reaching into her pocket for her phone.
She might not be able to save herself tonight, but maybe she could save her
friends.
Her fingers slid over the screen,
her blood making it too slippery for her to see the display clearly. She tried
to call the last person in her recents, but it scrolled a bit farther and
dialed someone she’d only called once—and just so he could have her number.
It had been done in an odd sense of
friendship, camaraderie.
Now, she just hoped he answered.
“Cheyenne?” Max growled into the
phone. “Where are you?”
“Here,” she wheezed. But she knew
it was too late, he wouldn’t be able to hear her. “I’m here.”
She could have sworn she heard a
howl as she closed her eyes again, and when she opened them once more, she knew
she had to be dreaming.
Max.
She didn’t actually say the word, didn’t have the breath in her lungs.
She only knew it was him hovering
over her on three legs, blood on his muzzle, and the anger of a thousand suns
in his gaze. During the final battle with the rogue humans who had wanted the
wolves to die, Max had lost the lower part of his right arm as well as a lot of
flesh on his chest. His chest had healed, but his arm hadn’t grown back.
Shifter genetics didn’t do that. So, in wolf form, he stood on three legs,
strong and fierce, though she knew he didn’t feel that way.
Max growled, and she wondered why
he had blood on his muzzle.
Then, she didn’t wonder anymore
when he bit into her flesh.
And again.
She didn’t scream, didn’t feel a
thing. She didn’t know why she didn’t feel anything, she wasn’t cold enough to
be that close to death, not yet.
Something was protecting her.
And she knew Max wasn’t trying to
eat her. No, he was attempting to change her, to save her.
He was doing the only thing he
could.
And he hadn’t given her a choice.
If she lived through this, she would make sure he understood that she would
have said yes to a change. He was breaking the law, and possibly breaking part
of himself to do this, and he already had enough on his shoulders.
She didn’t want him to blame
himself for this.
But as he bit her again, something
snapped inside her. Not physically. But a warmth in her heart spread and seemed
to spear outward toward Max. She gasped, suddenly able to breathe as Max
quickly changed to his human form—far too fast for him or any other wolf.
Before she could think, he had her
in his naked lap and was holding her close, blood covering them both. She
couldn’t quite understand it all.
“Mate,” he whispered. “The moon
goddess.” He coughed. “Mate.”
And then, she fell into the
darkness again, wondering if the word mate
was the last thing she’d ever hear.
Because she wasn’t a wolf.
She didn’t know if she was Pack.
But…she was Max Brentwood’s mate.
Somehow.
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