Running Wild

The road to believing can be one wild ride.
    A Northern Shifters Book
Seamus O’Connor thought his friendship with Zachariah Smithson was just that—a relationship born on one horrific night seven years ago. He never thought he’d end up inheriting the old man’s farm.
Tons of chores and hard work are nothing new for Seamus. The farm comes equipped with all he needs—and something he didn’t expect. Unsettling, latenight visits from Zachariah’s grandson Ri, a man who appears and disappears like a ghost.
Ri has had little contact with the outside world, with good reason. Horse shifters aren’t any human’s idea of normal. Plus, he’s wary of being the next target of the werewolves who took his twin brother. Trust his matchmaking grandfather to give him a reason to come home—Seamus.
As Seamus gradually learns the truth of Ri’s life, their relationship tentatively grows—and danger grows closer. For it was Ri who rescued Seamus on that terrible night long ago. Seamus is about to realize he’s had his own encounters with werewolves. He just doesn’t know it—yet.
Warning, this story contains unexpected night visits, expected night visits, wild rides and growing love.
     
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    This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
    Samhain Publishing, Ltd. 11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B Cincinnati OH 45249
    Running Wild
Copyright © 2012 by Joely Skye ISBN: 978-1-60928-771-9 Edited by Sasha Knight Cover by Angela Waters
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: June 2012 www.samhainpublishing.com

Running Wild

Joely Skye
Dedication
To my readers. Thank you.
Prologue
    Seamus stood plastered behind a tree, out of sight of his pursuers. His chest heaved but he kept his breathing quiet, almost silent, and tried to stop the panic from clawing its way into his mind. He needed to think .
    At least he’d made it out of that field and into the small woods where he could hide. These were stupid guys playing a stupid game, and somehow he had stumbled into it. Okay, yes, wandering around the countryside at night, far from home—not that he had a home any longer—wasn’t the safest thing in the world to do. But he hadn’t thought to draw this kind of attention to himself.
    When they’d begun toying with him, walking beside him on that long stretch of empty road, he’d bolted, even though it had meant leaving his bag behind. He’d taken the threat seriously, but they hadn’t had the energy or the interest to keep pace with him. Those two guys had probably found something else to entertain them.
Hopefully not someone else.
    Assholes. He remembered their opening volley in conversation— Looking for a horse?
What the hell had that meant? Seamus tried to search for sexual innuendo in it, but it didn’t quite fit, as far as he could figure.
Just as he was beginning to breathe more easily, a twig snapped, not too far off, and his entire body seized up again.
The week had turned into a fucking nightmare. His fingers dug into the bark, and he couldn’t think of a single strategy except standing stock-still. If only he didn’t have to breathe—he sounded so loud in his own ears.
“Looking for me?”
The words jolted Seamus though he tried to stay in place while he swerved his eyeballs to the right. The voice had come from behind him, and at some distance. It was a tenor and not a voice he’d heard before.
“Well, hello,” someone answered, and that was one of the assholes. Another twig snapped, and the second speaker began moving away from Seamus. “Why are you human?”
Or that’s what Seamus thought was said. An oddly worded sentence, Seamus couldn’t help but think, though mostly he was trying not to let his knees buckle, trying not to vomit from the mix of relief—they hadn’t found him—and horror—they were after someone else.
Or maybe this was a third friend of theirs, and they’d all come back for