She’ll do anything to save her best friend.
Even offering her body as a sacrifice.
When Camilla Alvarez receives a disturbing voicemail, she makes it her life’s mission to
discover what really happened to Claire. The problem? Somehow Red Crescent, North America’s most brutal and dangerous pack of monsters, is involved. Even worse, Red Crescent only has one out and proud member from the fanged and furred closet. Drew ‘Wild West’ Weston, the seriously scary beast who took the Ultimate Feral Brawls circuit by storm.
Camilla’s willing to swallow her fear to do whatever it takes to save a friend, even go on a suicide mission to seduce a violent wolf. Though admittedly, using pheromones to catch his attention…
Not the best idea.
BEAUTY & BEAST is a hot and heavy installment of the Sinful Supes series. If you’re a fan of dark intrigue and dominant shifters, sink your teeth into Beauty & Beast today.
READER DISCRETION ADVISED (18+)
READ CHAPTER ONE OF BEAUTY & BEAST
**CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE FERVOR**
I tapped my fingernails nervously against the steering wheel. I’d been sitting here in the parking lot of a shady warehouse for the last half hour. He should arrive any minute—that is, if my hacker friend knew what she was talking about.
It was frustrating. Everything I knew about Supernaturals was a by-product of being around my dad, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t know about the illegal fights in Colorado. I felt out of my depth; my interest in Supes extended solely as inspiration for special effects makeup.
Now I had to seduce one for information.
I flexed my fingers around the wheel, nearly shaking from the tension. Shit, if I felt like a wreck, I probably smelled like one—especially to a sensitive feral’s nose. They had their own slang for someone who smelled like prey, and I didn’t plan on walking into a room filled to the brim with Supes exuding perfume de conejo. No, a bunny was the last thing I wanted to be.
Be the predator not the prey, I mentally chanted. Predator, not prey.
After thirty seconds of this, I felt ridiculous. I focused on my target instead.
Drew “Wild West” Weston must be desensitized to women throwing themselves at him. He had to be, with the face of a god and the body of a warrior, not to mention being the reigning champ of the Ultimate Feral Brawls from the age of seventeen.
That is until he gave up the belt, unceremoniously retiring last year— undefeated. It had rocked the Supe fight scene. I still remember how Pops ranted about it.
In fact, my father’s obsession was the reason I knew West was the only out and proud member of the Red Crescent pack. Making him my sole lead on finding Claire. Three weeks ago she’d disappeared from the head charter’s territory. Her last words were seared in my memory. I’ll never forget how her breath hitched when the beast howled. Whatever happened that night, Red Crescent wolves were involved.
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. I can do this.
My nerves fluttered. I was about to do something truly stupid, but it was my only option. The police couldn’t do shit since Claire wasn’t technically human. And no one else remembered her. I was the only one who could help.
My Guera would walk across a lake of fire for me. She’s my best friend, the only girl who never stabbed me in the back or treated me like a rival—loyal to a fault. I still remember the day she moved to Salinas and that puta, Leticia Rodriguez zeroed in on her. My fingers tightened on the steering wheel just thinking about it. Claire was one of the few white girls in the school and had no one in her corner until I decided to protect her. At first, I mostly felt bad for her, but soon enough we became true friends, familia even.
Now she was missing.
She wasn’t on the list of Fort Lawrence casualties. I’d checked. But when her phone was disconnected, I knew something wasn’t right. My suspicions were confirmed when the Sommers didn’t recognize their daughter’s name. I’ve never been one for conspiracy theories, but I knew there had been some sort of cover up. A sloppy one at that. I’ve been wondering why I hadn’t been glazed with the rest of her family, but I can only assume my saving grace was the fact that Claire’s always been a bit of a loner who lacked any kind of social media presence.
I examined my makeup in the rear-view mirror. My war paint. Everything was on point, from cherry red lips to the smoky, catlike quality of my eyes. I’d special ordered Supe friendly cosmetics. Supposedly, they wouldn’t irritate a feral’s sense of smell.
Everything had to go in my favor tonight. I wasn’t foolish enough to think all I needed was a pretty face to interest a guy like Drew Weston. If I wanted to get his attention, I had to cheat. I pulled out the small plastic roll-on lip gloss from the center console. There was no lip balm inside, the cylinder contained something much more dangerous.
Specifically, pheromones of a female feral wolf in heat. The substance was illegal, available only on the black market. Thankfully, my hacker had some serious connections and animosity toward Red Crescent. Quinn never spoke about why she hated them, I just knew her hatred was bone-deep from the note she’d scribbled on the package: Make them pay.
If they hurt Claire, well… I swore to God I would.
I looked at my phone and flipped to the picture of my target. He had a nice white smile that could knock the ladies dead, but the moment he stepped into the cage, that charming guy ceased to exist. Once that door closed, he became Wild West.
And Wild West was not someone you fucked with.
I felt the fear creep in again so I flipped the switch in my mind. Instead of the frightening predator, I concentrated on the illusion of his humanity. I’d memorized his handsome, stern face back when he was just some random celebrity. I’d gained inspiration from his strong cheekbones and those intense eyes. He had a lovely aesthetic. In fact, a couple years ago, I’d made a fast frame makeover video where I transformed an average looking guy into a Drew Weston lookalike with the power of contouring. That video went viral.
I was inspired to make it because Pops, or as Claire liked to call him, Papa Carlos, had a few posters of him in our garage. The one that struck me was a pre-fight hype picture where it showed half his face in a determined, angry expression—the type of expression one wore before they beat the shit out of someone.
The second half of the poster was the opponent whose name was Mendez or Diaz or something. I mostly remember that he was a tiger feral that people thought might have a shot at overthrowing the champ.
That fight hadn’t lasted long.
As much as that promotional picture inspired me, the poster right next to it made me break out in a cold sweat. It reminded me that I was about to come face-to-face with the beast himself. On this poster, Drew balanced on top of the cage, his sharp canines exposed in mid-roar. He was in half-man form, eyes glinting a dangerous gold. Every muscle on his enlarged body bulged, the striations clearly visible. To top it off, the poster was Photoshopped to look like he was on fire. Sparks and flame raged outward from the heat of his aggression.
That picture was taken right after he won the title. It had become iconic within the feral fight world. I shivered just thinking about it.
This is who I needed to ensnare? It was official; I’d lost my mind. Crazy lady walking.
Stop it. Focus. I had to remember why I was doing this. I’d almost lost Claire to medical issues. I wasn’t about to lose her for real this time.
I pulled up my saved voicemails and pressed play.
“Looks like you’ll be getting that car sooner than we thought…” Claire tried so hard not to cry, but it was in her voice, and I could feel her fear. I wanted to kick myself for teasing her about getting her car if she died. I was just trying to lighten her mood before her first day in a Supe class.
I’d have a tooth pulled without anesthetic to be able to take those words back.
I blinked away the moisture before it could spill over and ruin my game face.
“I-I just wanted you to know that the thing we talked about is happening. They’re—uh—killing each other to get at me. I don’t think I’m going to make it—” A loud wolf’s howl cut her off—a Red Crescent feral. “Shit, I’m out of time.” The panic in her voice made me want to kill that fucking wolf. “You’re the best friend I could ever ask for. I love you, Camy. Please don’t tell my family I caused this… just… Mom, Dad, Brandt… if you guys are listening to this I want you to know I died fighting and… I-I love you guys so much.”
I closed my eyes, clenching my jaw. I’d gotten past the point of bawling my eyes out every time I listened to it. Hearing her last words were all the motivation I needed. My fingers no longer shook; they curled into tight fists instead.
I stepped out of my dad’s old work van, stuffing the “lip gloss” in my bra before slipping into strappy, black stilettos that screamed: bend me over and fuck me. I smoothed my skin-tight scarlet dress over my body—making sure to present the goods to their best advantage.
I took a deep breath and whispered, “For Claire.”
Before I could second guess myself, I strutted through the parking lot and rounded the corner of the warehouse. I sent a flirtatious smile toward the bouncer, my heels clicking in time with my runway walk. He appraised me with a leer that made my skin crawl. Hopefully, my mark would be just as easy—someone who liked curvy Latina girls. If not, too fucking bad.
Drew Weston, I’m coming for you.