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Primal Wrath
Author: Piper Davenport




Thanks for being my muse, and really great in bed!

Brandy (Ziggy)

Thanks for keeping the timelines and characters straight. You are a godsend!

Gail, Mary, Carrie, and Trudy

Thank you so much for all your willingness to read and your amazing ‘catches.’ You help make my work so clean and I appreciate you so much!





In the middle of an unexpected turf war, I watched my best friend bleed out in front of me and my woman walk away without a backward glance. Now, she's back but she's icing me out.


I have secrets. Secrets that could bring down the club I've come to call my family. I must protect them. But secrets have a way of revealing themselves at the most inopportune times, and when they come out, the wrath of the man I love most in the world might just burn us all to the ground.



For WW – my Warm-Hearted Wolverine

You have been my shelter this year and you will never know how much your kindness has meant to me.

I love you to Mars and back!




Three years ago(ish)…

“Raquel!” I called down the stairs of the townhouse I shared with my bestie. Not that she was home much, lately. She’d been spending more and more nights with her new man, Orion, a biker who rode with the Primal Howlers Motorcycle Club out of Monument, Colorado, and the one responsible for disrupting my entire life. First, he’d fucked Raquel into submission, then he’d dragged me into his degenerate biker world kicking and screaming…

…straight toward a man named Wrath.

Wrath was a road captain for the club and an all-around bossy son of a bitch who seemed to think he held dominion over me.

Newsflash: He did not.

“Yeah?” she replied.

“I’m running late. You go ahead. I’ll meet you there.”

It was a Howlers’ club family night tonight, so I’d been invited.

No, that wasn’t quite right. It was a summoning. I’d been summoned to attend by the mighty Wrath himself, who’d somehow decided where I went was his business. The only reason I’d acquiesced was because I had nothing better to do, and my hatred of being bored outweighed my annoyance with Wrath.

“Are you sure?” she asked, peeking her head into the bathroom.

“Yes.” I dabbed oil onto my hands and wove it into my curly locks. “This weather is wreaking havoc on my hair, and I’m only at act two of the taming of the curls.”

“Okay. I’ll see you there.”

The reason I was late in the first place was because my shift at the restaurant had gone into overtime. But since I couldn’t get a ‘legit’ job until I sorted out my shit with the FBI, in other words, until I came out of hiding and didn’t take jobs that paid me under the table, I was stuck with what I had.

Did I mention I was hiding from the FBI?

My real name is Anjanette ‘Jette’ McCormick, but the Howlers knew me as Sierra. Only Raquel and Sundance (the president of the Howlers) knew my real identity and they’d take that to their graves.

It was the reason I was in Colorado to begin with. I was living in Raquel’s townhouse, under an assumed name and under the protection of her brother’s motorcycle club, the Dogs of Fire. Well, that was until Wrath decided he wanted to protect me…personally.

About an hour later, I walked into the Howlers’ cabin and made my way up to Wrath’s room to drop off my stuff and maybe have a little fun before family night really got going. Wrath and I had only been friends with benefits for a short time, but had been growing closer, and even though we butted heads more often than not, he was crazy good in bed. I didn’t want more than that… at least, I didn’t think I did.

I twisted the doorknob and frowned. The door was locked, so I raised my hand to knock, but before my fingers hit the wood, I heard the undeniable sound of a woman screaming in ecstasy and I lost my mind.

I frowned. That little asshole was fucking some whore.

Oh, hell no.

He insisted I be here tonight, then decided it’d be a good idea to ram his dick into someone else?

I rummaged through my purse and pulled out my case. Unzipping it, I retrieved my lock pick set and slid it into the lock, hearing the lock slide free, I pushed open the door.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I hissed.

A very naked Wrath, busy railing some whore from behind, turned to me with a frown.

“Did you just get here?” he asked, pulling his cock out of her.

God, he was pretty.

The whore scowled at me, but I ignored her. I didn’t recognize her, so I could only assume she was there for the party.

“Sierra,” Wrath snapped.

I blinked up at him. “What?”

“Did you just get here?” he repeated. “You were supposed to check in with me an hour ago.”

“You’re seriously standing here buck-naked demanding—”

“So, you just got here,” he sneered.

“Umm, is she joining us?” the whore asked. “Or, should I keep going?”

“Finish yourself off, sweetheart,” Wrath said, then turned back to me as he tugged off the condom. “Who brought you, Sierra?”

I rolled my eyes. “I brought myself.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You drove here by yourself?”

I threw my hands in the air and let out a frustrated grunt, then turned on my heel and walked away.

“Goddammit!” he snapped. “Sierra!”

I ignored him and continued downstairs, but as I stepped off the last step, I heard heavy footsteps behind me. I craned my neck to see Wrath on my tail, jeans on, but still pulling a T-shirt over his head. “Sierra, stop.”

“Suck a bag of dicks!” I screeched, rushing through the great room, my level of rage at eleven.

“Sierra, you gonna stow that anger or am I gonna deal with it?” Wrath asked, following me.

I kept going, doubling back the way I came, and slipping into one of the bunk rooms behind the kitchen. Unfortunately, I was not quick enough to evade him (plus the door didn’t have a lock) and he walked in behind me.

“And I believe the correct term is ‘eat a bag of dicks,’ baby,” Wrath retorted, grinning as he crossed his arms.

“You can gargle a sack of chodes for all I care,” I hissed.

“Why are you so late?” Wrath demanded, crossing his arms.

“None of your business.”

He raised an eyebrow. “My dick’s been buried in your pussy more than once, sweetheart, it most certainly is my business.”

“Yeah, well, that’s never going to happen again, so business rescinded.”

“Never gonna happen again?” he asked, his face stone-cold blank.

I met his eyes. His stupid, gorgeous, puppy brown eyes. He was tall, dark, and fuckable, and was about the best-looking man I’d ever seen. “Yes. Never again.”

“And why’s that?”

“I just walked in on you with your dick in some club skank’s nasty cootchie!” I screeched, surprised by how shrill my voice sounded. God, I had to get a grip.

“True, it was also somewhere else twenty minutes ago.”

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