By Hook or by Wolf Read online

  By Hook or by Wolf: A Wolf-Shifter Reverse Harem Romance

  Sophie Stern

  Published by Sophie Stern, 2019.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  BY HOOK OR BY WOLF: A WOLF-SHIFTER REVERSE HAREM ROMANCE

  First edition. August 4, 2019.

  Copyright © 2019 Sophie Stern.

  Written by Sophie Stern.

  Also by Sophie Stern

  Alien Chaos

  Destroyed

  Guarded

  Anchored

  Starboard

  Battleship

  All Aboard

  Abandon Ship

  Below Deck

  Crossing the Line

  Anchored: Books 1-3

  Anchored: Books 4-6

  Club Kitten Dancers

  Move

  Dragon Isle

  My Lord and Dragon

  The Dragon Fighter

  A Dragon's Bite

  Lost to the Dragon

  Beware of Dragons

  Cowboy Dragon

  Dark Heart of the Dragon

  Once Upon a Dragon

  Catching the Dragon

  Dragon Isle (Collection: Books 1-3)

  Dragon Isle (Collection: Books 4-6)

  Dragon Isle (Collection: Books 7-9)

  Good Boys and Millionaires

  Good Boys and Millionaires 1

  Good Boys and Millionaires 2

  Honeypot Babies

  The Polar Bear's Baby

  The Jaguar's Baby

  The Tiger's Baby

  Honeypot Darlings

  The Bear's Virgin Darling

  The Bear's Virgin Mate

  The Bear's Virgin Bride

  Office Gentlemen

  Ben From Accounting

  Polar Bears of the Air Force

  Staff Sergeant Polar Bear

  Master Sergeant Polar Bear

  Airman Polar Bear

  Senior Airman Polar Bear

  Red

  Red: Into the Dark

  Red: Through the Dark

  Red: Beyond the Dark

  Shifters at Law

  Wolf Case

  Bearly Legal

  Tiger Clause

  Sergeant Bear

  Dragon Law

  The Fablestone Clan

  Dragon's Oath

  Dragon's Breath

  Dragon's Darling

  Dragon's Whisper

  Dragon's Magic

  The Hidden Planet

  Vanquished

  Outlaw

  Conquered

  The Wolfe City Pack

  The Wolf's Darling

  The Wolf's Mate

  The Wolf's Bride

  Standalone

  Saucy Devil

  Billionaire on Top

  Jurassic Submissive

  The Editor

  Alien Beast

  Snow White and the Wolves

  Kissing the Billionaire

  Wild

  Alien Dragon

  The Royal Her: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance

  Be My Tiger

  Alien Monster

  The Paralegal

  The Luck of the Wolves

  Roses in the Dark

  Honeypot Babies Omnibus Edition

  Honeypot Darlings: Omnibus Edition

  Red: The Complete Trilogy

  First Shift

  The Swan's Mate

  Eternity: A Vampire Romance

  The Feisty Librarian

  Polar Bears of the Air Force

  Wild Goose Chase

  Star Princess

  The Virgin and the Lumberjacks

  Resting Bear Face

  Don't Date Demons

  By Hook or by Wolf: A Wolf-Shifter Reverse Harem Romance

  By Hook or By Wolf

  Sophie Stern

  Contents

  By Hook or By Wolf

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Author

  The Bear’s Virgin Darling

  Don’t Date Demons

  Story Copyright 2019 by Sophie Stern

  Cover Design Melody Simmons: www.ebookindiecovers.com.

  Being a thief is in my blood. It's not like I steal from people who don't deserve it, anyway. I take things from bad guys, from monsters. I thieve from people who don't lead the pristine lives they pretend to.

  Everything is going fine until I'm hired to steal the Gem of Malice.

  I didn't realize it would be so hard to steal.

  I didn't realize it would be guarded by three shapeshifting wolves.

  I didn't realize they would want me as their own.

  I didn't realize.

  Chapter One

  Natasha

  A little to the left.

  A little to the right.

  Perfect.

  I shoot the grappler across the wall and it catches for just a second before falling to the ground.

  Okay, maybe not so perfect. Looking around from one side to the other, I press a button to pull the hook up to me and I try again. That’s the most important thing about thieving. You always have to try again. No matter what happens. No matter what you face. You fail, you try again.

  End of story.

  I shoot again and this time, the grappler catches on the building across from me. The grappler holds and I breathe a sigh of relief. Finally. Breaking into an abandoned building isn’t supposed to be this tricky.

  It’s an ordinary-looking building: medium-height, dull. The bricks that once shone bright and advertised wealth and riches are now faded and dark. The architecture of the once-lovely design no longer holds its luster.

  It’s a pity, really, but I’m not here to admire art.

  I’m here to steal it.

  By the time I slide to the other building, my heartbeat is racing, which is unfortunate because I need to stay calm enough to make it past the sensors once I’m inside. I reach the building, put my grappler back on my belt, and carefully run my hands over the window in front of me. It’s locked, of course, but I’m a thief. I’ve never met a lock I didn’t like. Slowly, carefully, I maneuver the lock to slide open and then I’m in.

  I’m inside the gallery.

  Carefully, I lower the window behind myself. Then I take a deep breath and look around. Calm. I need to stay calm. Once I’m on the lower floors, there’s a security system in place that detects heartrates above 65 beats per minute. A human’s average resting heart rate is between 60 and 100 beats per minute, so I’ve got to be really, really careful.

  Deep breaths.

  Usually, when I’m stealing something, I get really sweaty and out of breath. I don’t know why. I mean, really, who knows why we do any of these things? It’s not like I haven’t done this a hundred times before, but it never seems to get any easier. I’m always nervous before a job, but today must be different. It has to be. I don’t have a choice. Losing my cool means losing the entire gig. One scare, one startle, and I’m done for.

  I’ve got to stay calm and collected and on top of things because if I’m not, I’m never going to get anywhere close to the gem.
<
br />   “Think happy thoughts,” I whisper to myself. “Think about puppies and kittens and rainbows. Sunshine. The rain.”

  I close my eyes and breathe in and out. I check the heartrate monitor I wear on my wrist and once it’s low enough, I take a step forward and then another. The room I’m in is dusty and abandoned. Empty. Maybe it was used for storage, long ago, but right now it’s totally empty and free from anything and everything.

  Carefully, I head toward the door that leads out of the room. I’ll enter the hallway, find the stairs, and make my way down to the first floor. That’s where the art gallery is, or was, long ago. This place has been closed for years. My pre-thieving research revealed that it was shut down nearly three years ago, but no one really knows why.

  The only thing people seem to know, actually, is that all of the artwork and displays are still carefully protected by sensors and security. The company that owns the gallery, Claw and Sons, is known for its investments. It’s a real estate firm, which means it deals in dollar signs, and if I had to guess, I’d say the little art gallery just wasn’t bringing in enough cash to meet demand.

  Which is a pity.

  Still, it doesn’t make sense that they’d leave all of their work and projects behind. Why not sell off the extra items? Why not get the most out of their assets? A real estate company should know that this location is prime. The building alone could sell for triple what Claw and Sons paid for it originally, so why aren’t they selling?

  Honestly, that’s not my problem. None of their investments are my problem. The only thing I need to worry about is finding the gem, getting it, and then escaping before anyone notices that it’s gone. If I’m lucky, I’ll be able to drop off the gem to my buyer and then be home in time for dinner.

  When I enter the hallway, I look around.

  Nothing.

  It’s empty.

  Even with weeks of preparation for this job, I’m still nervous I might have missed something. The idea of falling into a trap doesn’t sit well with me, so I move carefully and quietly down the hall. I don’t have any sort of backup. I don’t have a team. I don’t have security cameras or flashy tech. I don’t think I’m going to need it, though. The only thing I need is to get the gem and get out.

  That’s it.

  I make my way to the staircase, which looks like the kind of thing you’d see in a movie about a princess. It’s wide and opens downward before it splits. The stairs wrap around both sides of the room. Images of myself in a creamy ballgown flash through my head as I make my way down the stairs, which is dumb.

  I’m no princess.

  I’m certainly not the type of girl who wears a dress.

  No thank you.

  I learned long ago that the pristine, polished life my parents wanted for me just wasn’t going to work. Thieving, living life as an underground criminal? That’s what I want. That’s the ticket for me.

  It’s not just about the thrill, either. It’s about making the city a better place. I like to consider myself something of a vigilante. The city I live in is full of evil. It’s full of monsters who lurk in the shadows. You don’t even always know who the bad guys are and sometimes, I think that’s the problem.

  Sometimes the people you think you know don’t have your best interests at heart.

  I’m sure people see me thieving and think I’m the real monster here, but I don’t care about that. There’s no time for haters. Not in my world. Instead, I’m going to focus on making things better one day at a time. I’m going to control the things I can control. I’m going to change what I can change.

  And I’m going to make a difference where I can, when I can.

  It all starts here.

  I move gracefully down the staircase. I keep checking the monitor on my wrist. My heartrate is good, even. It’s slow. Years of meditation have taught me that tranquility can help you achieve just about any goal. It really and truly can. Sometimes just breathing deeply gives you everything you need to focus your energies. It helps you center yourself.

  A few careful breaths can mean the difference between dying and flying free.

  It can mean the difference between making it and not.

  So, I breathe.

  In and out.

  I let my breaths carry me downstairs and through the giant ballroom. Once upon a time, there were adventures here. Displays full of beautiful artwork are covered with thick, heavy linens. Curious, I stop to peek at one of the displays. It’s shaped like a statue, and when I gingerly lift the edge of the sheet, I see that it’s a gold statue. A wolf stands on its hinders. Two other wolves do the same. Three in total: all beautiful. All gold.

  Outside of the law, this type of piece would go for tens of thousands of dollars. In fact, I’m guessing, just by briefly glancing at it, that the item could be pilfered for nearly a hundred grand. That is, if you know the right person to sell it to.

  Which I do.

  Reluctantly, I put the sheet back in its rightful place. The reality is that I’m not here to steal anything except the gem, and even that is for a very good reason. My client, the buyer, claims that the gem was stolen from her family by hoodlums long ago. She was able to show me a historical record that proves she is the rightful owner of the jewel. I don’t know who was crazy enough to steal it from her in the first place. I don’t know who thought that robbing an old woman was a good idea.

  All I know is that it’s my job to make sure stolen items are returned to the people who lost them.

  And tonight, that’s the Gem of Malice.

  I move swiftly through the rest of the ballroom. This place used to hold galas on a regular basis. Now, it’s just kind of rotting away. It really is a pity. A place like this could be beautiful. More importantly, it could bring in a lot of money. In a place as rundown as this, money is usually a pretty good thing to hope for.

  To crave.

  When I reach the end of the ballroom, I enter a lobby. I’m basically going through the building backwards because just up ahead of me are the front doors to the building. I didn’t bother coming through them for two reasons.

  One: I wasn’t sure if there were traps on the inside. I can see now that there are a couple of tripwires that undoubtedly sound an alarm. If I’m going to get caught, it’s going to be later, and it’s going to be because my luck is terrible. It’s not going to be because I was a huge dork who thought I wouldn’t trip a wire going in the front door.

  For heaven’s sake, really.

  Two: I didn’t want anyone seeing what I was doing. People watch the front of this building. They don’t look at the back. I was able to sneak in quietly with little trouble at all. Had I tried to come in the front of the building, I would have encountered pedestrians and passers-by who would likely have called the police without a second thought.

  My heartrate is still appropriate for the situation. I turn and move, eyeing the different objects in the front of the gallery. There are still so many wonderful items here: statues, paintings, vases.

  It’s easy to get caught up on the fact that I’m now standing in the main lobby of the most discussed, written about, and adored gallery the city had ever seen, but I can’t afford to take time to gawk. What I really want to do, suddenly, is roam around and touch every piece of art that is hidden away in this gallery.

  Why did the place close, anyway? No one really knows. It doesn’t matter, though. The only thing that does matter is getting the jewel and getting out. Each step brings me closer to the jewel and closer to finishing my mission. Then I can get out of here and go home. I have someone waiting for me, and I’d hate to disappoint them.

  “Stay focused,” I whisper to myself, and then I keep moving. My ballet slippers pad quietly across the hardwood floors. This isn’t my first heist. I’m not so amateur that I’d wear normal, regular shoes that could slip and slide and skid.

  Nope.

  I’m a professional, and that means dressing for the job. There’s that old saying, “Dress for the job you want.” T
onight, I’m doing just that. I’ve got on black ballet slippers, black skin-tight leggings, and a black tank top that clings to my skin. Normally, I’d wear long sleeves, but it’s hot out and besides, being in a tank top means I can move a little easier. It means there’s less of a chance that anyone will catch me because I’ll be moving quickly and sneakily.

  I prepared well for this job and now it’s time to find out if all of that prep work will pay off or not.

  Let’s hope it does.

  Reluctantly, I leave the lobby and head toward a side door. It swings open, revealing a dark space. I flick on my flashlight and see that the opening leads to a narrow staircase that goes down. Did someone say, “creepy basement”? I’m pretty sure that’s where this goes. If my intel is correct, though, then this is where I need to go.

  All of the important stuff was locked away when the gallery closed. That includes, but isn’t limited to, the Gem of Malice.

  Nobody really knows why this gem is so important or why it holds such a name. I certainly don’t. Researching online led me nowhere. Hell, even visiting local libraries got me nothing at all. The only clue I have is that there’s a local family legend that the gem has something to do with the men in the family finding “the one.”

  Well, the legend doesn’t say “the one.”

  It says mates.

  I move carefully down the stairs. It’s completely black except for my flashlight. This is where things are going to get a little difficult for me. I’m doing my best to stay calm and keep moving through my breathing exercises, but my heart?

  It wants to race.

  This is getting exciting. This is the part of the adventure where I want to freak out and celebrate prematurely, but I know that I can’t. I have to stay focused if I’m going to have any shot at getting this stupid jewel and getting out before I inevitably trip something.

  One thing I’ve learned is that no matter how much you prepare for something like this, there’s always going to be a mistake somewhere.