Running on empty the wol.., p.1
Running on Empty (The Wolfverse Dark Side Book 2), page 1
RUNNING ON EMPTY
SAM HALL
Running on Empty
Running on Empty © Sam Hall 2023
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except for in the case of brief quotations for the use in critical articles or reviews.
Cover art and design by Damoro Designs
Edited by Steph Tashkoff
The characters and events depicted in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Stalk me!
Author Note
Trigger Warning
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
What comes next?
Acknowledgments
Stalk me!
Stalk me!
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Author Note
This book is written in Australian English, which is a weird lovechild of British and American English. We tend to spell things the way the Brits do (expect a lot more u’s), yet also use American slang and swear more than both combined.
While many people have gone over this book, trying to find all the typos and other mistakes, they just keep on popping up like bloody rabbits. If you spot one, don’t report it to Amazon, drop me an email at the below address so I can fix the issue.
samhall.author@gmail.com
Trigger Warning
This book was a little hard to classify. The guys are not the pricks from Forbidden Fruit, but the content is dark, so please read closely.
This book deals with:
A FMC that grows up in an abusive home. I have kept the flashbacks to the bare minimum and mostly deal with running away from fights between her mum and her mother’s boyfriend, not including the FMC. But she demonstrates a lot of the minimising and trauma of someone who has grown up with this.
The FMC goes out on a date with a pack who are not her fated mates and a non consensual incident happens. I have tried to include the least amount of detail possible, but this might be triggering for people.
The book is largely a revenge trip, like a female led John Wick, so there is a lot of violence.
The dog does not get hurt!
One of the male leads self harms for the thrill of it. I would suggest that if you are someone who has a history of this or it’s a trigger, you might want to avoid this book.
Chapter 1
15 years later.
The minute an alpha pack catches my attention, a countdown starts in my head.
I woke up to the sound of my alarm blaring, reaching for my phone blindly. Tap, tap, tap, there! Gotcha. I grabbed my phone then turned the alarm off without even looking at the damn thing, the movements automatic as I groaned. When I finally did crack my eyes open, I saw it was 2 pm and half the day was gone.
Maybe for most people. Mine was just about to start.
I didn’t want to go to work. I’d revealed as an omega in high school so my bed was my nest. The softest minky blankets I could find and pure cotton sheets that got softer with each wash. Pillows surrounded me, more pillows than any one woman could possibly need, falling against me as I sat up in bed, and singing their siren song. My wolf wanted me to just dive back into their depths, feel the way they’d cradle my body, lull me back to sleep and—
Nope.
Jonesy, my manager at the local pub, would fucking kill me if I was late. It was Friday and the pub would be packed with all the fuckers who could look forward to a long relaxing weekend while I pulled beers and poured shots until my hands ached. I shoved the blankets away and stepped free of my bed.
A quick cold shower had me waking right the fuck up, and when I stepped out, grabbing at my towel and shivering a little, I was glad to dry off and get into my uniform. Skinny jeans that looked like they were sprayed on, because Jonesy liked his girls to look fuckable. Apparently, it helped sell more beer. A tight t-shirt with the pub logo went on over that, the neckline scooped so damn low that there was no need to worry whether I was giving the fellas at the bar a show, because I was, always. But this was all normal shit to me.
I was an omega. Alphas wanted me just for my scent and for the fact I could take their knots and be panting with pleasure, rather than screaming it wouldn’t fit. Betas fetishised me, thinking I was some kind of sex-crazed nympho that would be gagging for their pathetic cocks the minute I went into heat. And other omegas? I didn’t see many of them. But when I did come across one, we’d be like two feral cats meeting in an alley. Lots of hissing and snarling went down, stupid instincts kicking in.
But right now all I was concerned with was one particular group of alphas.
As I waited for the kettle to boil, I scrolled through Howlr, the alpha dating app. I was a popular girl on it, because most women who joined it were betas, looking for a bit of strange. I had a ton of DMs from alphas from across the country offering me all sorts of incentives to see them, but a one way trip to the Outback to visit some pack’s farm was not appealing, neither were the offers of Netflix and chill from alphas closer to home.
At least take me out before we have a four or five person orgy, amirite?
There in my notifications was the message I was looking for. I opened it up and read the Spencer pack’s message. My heart rate picked up even as my wolf started to whine.
Looking forward to seeing you tonight, little omega. Can’t wait to smell your scent as I pull your panties down—
Panties? That word gave me the motherfucking ick. I frowned then, my thumb hovering over the message, ready to delete and block them. My wolf perked up at that idea. That was always going to happen anyway. The timer inside my head had started the moment I’d messaged them back the other day. They didn’t realise they only had a small window to show me a good time and then show me a real dirty one before I blanked them entirely. Tickety tock, my brain went, as I navigated back to the Spencer pack’s profile to remind myself why I was bothering with them.
Oh yeah, that.
All alphas loved to post photos of their ridiculously buff bodies, but that wasn’t what had drawn me to them. On other packs’ profiles there were endless shots of alphas in rural splendour, looking hot as they leaned against their utes, fields spreading out behind them or, damn, alphas that looked like the hottest damn cowboy porn imaginable, but corn-fed boys weren’t what turned me on.
The Spencers looked like bad fucking news, from the tattoos covering their broad chests, bulging biceps and even curling around their necks, but any dickhead could get tattoos. No, it was something else. That flash of devilry in their eyes that promised hot nights and heartache.
Because I was apparently my mother’s child.
Before she died in a drink driving accident with boyfriend #343678 and left me the proud owner of the family home, my mother had managed to drag a parade of the worst specimens of mankind through our door. Hot ones, but still… When I was a teenager I’d sworn I’d never do the same, that the minute a guy laid a fucking hand on me he was outta there.
Words to live by, and I had held to them.
Trouble was, if the word ‘panties’ horrified me, nice guys made my cunt drier than dust. I wanted to like them, wanted someone who’d treat me like a damn human being, not just a designation or, worse, a hole to masturbate in. But a combination of industrial strength daddy issues (never met mine) coupled with mummy issues (she was a terrible parent) meant this little black duck could only get a lady boner for the kinds of boys you didn’t want to meet in dark alleys.
Unless they wanted to fuck me in one, in which case, yes please.
So it was the gleam in the Spencer pack’s eyes that had me tapping out a message, telling them when I got off work and where to pick me up from, spelling out that I wanted to be shown a good time before I got up close and personal with their Mr Happys. I nodded once the message had gone through. The bossy approach was usually a good way to sort the goats from the sheep. If they came back hard with all that OTT alpha bullshit, I was out. Hard pass for me.
And if they didn’t?
I smiled to myself as the kettle started to whistle, poured a travel mug of black coffee and then grabbed my shit to get going.
“Woof!”
That was the only warning I got that the bloody mutt next door had caught sight of me.
“Ollie…” I said, throwing up my empty hand as a German Shepherd came bounding towards the fence that separated my place from the Kelly’s. “Ollie, no!”
Jax kept telling me I needed to develop alpha energy in dealing with their dog but, apart from swaggering around like I had a third leg for a cock, I wasn’t sure what that meant. Growl something stupid and tack omega on the end of it?
“Ollie!”
My wolf was absolutely no use, because she loved the damn thing. The fucking dog sailed over the fence like it was nothing and, once he was over, he zeroed in on me, moving like a freight train as he bounded closer.
“Ollie! Ollie! Fuck…”
I dropped my precious, precious coffee onto the grass, knowing from experience that if I didn’t, the prick of a dog would jump up and spill the scalding hot liquid on me instead. I mourned the loss of that caffeiney goodness as I prepared myself, then jerked my knee up the minute he jumped up. I got him right in the guts, making him examine his life choices as he pulled away. Like so many men, that wasn’t enough to hold him off for long. He circled around, tail wagging so fast his whole bum was twerking for me.
Ollie loved me, but more than that, he loved my wolf. When I shifted, they’d play together like puppies, wrestling and playing bitey face for hours until I was forced to reel her back in.
“Shit, Ollie…”
At the sound of his voice, my wolf quivered with all the excitement of Ollie, her entire focus locked down. Jax Kelly didn’t look much like the boy who’d called me down from the tree that night. He’d been a big lad back then, but now he was fucking huge, muscles rippling under the white button down shirt he was wearing, as he threw himself over the fence and loped over, graceful as the wolf that was the other side of his nature.
He might look like a mild mannered security expert, with his jeans well pressed, his tanned skin contrasting very nicely with the white shirt, and his teeth doing the same when he grinned. But he was a predator underneath it, just like I was. Alpha and omega, our designations were made to fit together like puzzle pieces, although that was never going to be on the cards for us. I watched him rake a hand through his longish dark hair, sweeping it back, bicep popping as he did. Three quarters of the female population of our school and a chunk of the male had swooned over Jax and his brothers.
Just not me.
“Sorry—”
“I’d find it much easier to believe your apologies if you did something about your mutt,” I said. Ollie then sat like a Very Good Boy and I found myself bending down, scratching the thick fur on his chest.
“And he’d stop jumping over if you stopped doing that,” Jax replied, mildly. “You’ve just—”
“Reinforced his behaviour.” I straightened up again, Jax’s hazel eyes following my every move. “It’s hard not to when he’s so damn cute.” Jax’s smile widened but that just had me taking an involuntary step backwards. I directed my attention to the dog, not the man. “I’m just gonna have to drink my coffee before I leave the house, aren’t I, boy?”
He wagged his tail hopefully, eyes pleading for another pat or, better, for me to take fur and play. I wanted to. Gods, how I wanted to, but I didn’t take fur around the guys unless it was absolutely necessary. Instead I sighed and gave in, scratching those butter soft ears.
“Come inside,” Jax said, oh so casually. “We can make you another cuppa and—”
“Gotta go,” I said, making a show of looking at my watch. “I’m running late as it is, and Jonesy—”
“Will understand,” Jax said firmly, with all the confidence only an alpha could muster. “You could have something to eat as well. You haven’t eaten anything, have you?”
You see one Kelly and you’ll see the others moments later. That had been the lore that went around school, making it clear that tackling the Kelly pack was an exercise in stupidity. So I wasn’t surprised when the others appeared.
“You know me. Don’t eat anything straight after I wake up,” I replied in clipped tones, smiling to soften my words. Stop fawning over the big bad alphas, I sneered at myself. “And I gotta run.”
“Ollie get over again?” Ronan asked, ambling over, the man able to make jeans and a t-shirt look like couture, his version of the dark Kelly hair containing a reddish sheen. He wore his hair long, and today he had it pulled back into a ponytail, his only accessory his trademark smirk. “Bad Ollie. So, you’ll need to be coming over for a cuppa, Stevie?”
And they said I encouraged the damn dog? As he spoke to their German Shepherd, Ronan’s voice was more caress than rebuke and Ollie wagged his tail furiously in response, pushing his nose into Ronan’s hand.
“If you’ve been training that mutt to knock my coffee out of my hand in the morning, I’m going to be pissed,” I growled.
“Trained?” scoffed a third masculine voice. Ash Kelly, the biggest member of the Kelly pack, landed in my yard and made a beeline for their dog. “That’s a fucking joke. Ollie, home.”
The big man jerked his thumb in the direction of their front yard, but Ollie just whined in protest. At this reaction, Ash’s wolf pushed forward. Mine watched closely as Ash’s eyes began to silver, his wolf making his presence known, staring down at the dog, and letting a small growl trickle out of his mouth. Ollie barked then turned tail, jumping back into his yard. Once he’d taken care of their errant hound, Ash turned to the next order of business: me.
He was the only one of the brothers with blue eyes, the colour stark against his dark colouring. And this morning, as was often the case when he was talking to me, his gaze was as flat and even as the sea on a winter’s day.
“So you’ve offered to make Stevie a coffee and some breakfast,” he drawled, cocking an eyebrow at Jax.
“Yeah, but—”
“And you said no, because… reasons.” That was directed at me. I smiled, sort of, but it was more a baring of teeth really.
Ash summed everything up so succinctly, and his familiarity with our routine made sense. The Kellys were over in my yard as many times as Ollie, if not more. Mowing my lawns, trimming back my trees, cleaning out my guttering and, when they started their security firm, installing a state of the art alarm system. They’d coaxed a scared little girl down from the trees years ago and they seemed to think I’d never moved beyond that, and that they needed to make sure I was fed, watered and cared for.
