Animal Shifters & Werewolf Alphas Complete Bundle

Chapter One

Chapter OneKristine’s day starts off ruined when she walks into work and sees the picture on the front page. Andrea Brahms is smiling at her like he is mocking all of her life choices.

She brings a hand up to her face, needing the physical reassurance. Touching her scars used to give her panic attacks, but she finds them reassuring now. The indentations on her skin makes her feel grounded and present and reminds her that things are different and she needs to learn to live with that.

She is able to ignore the headline throughout the day, but in the evening, her curiosity gets the better of her and she wanders to the front desk to take a peek at the magazine.

Apparently, he's dating some celebrity actress and is in the best shape of his life.

It's fine. Andrea is free to do what he wants, just as she is free to live her life. She's just choosing not to.

It's too early to be drinking, which is a real shame. She takes a deep breath and holds it for half a minute, and then exhales, letting go of the breath she feels like she had been holding for the entire day.

Fumbling into her pockets reveals nothing and she recalls that she promised Nina she's going to quit her Mtonic habit. It's a quick pick-me-up that's capable of being brewed by low level mages, but it's habit-inducing and like any addiction, is capable of destroying lives. At her worst, she was downing seven of them a day. The recommended dosage is a two bottles, taken a minimum of seven hours apart.

It wasn't just destroying her stomach by ruining her diet completely, it's clawing a hole in her bank account and she has no excuse, really. She's a doctor.

Tiberius had to step in and get rid of all the hidden bottles in her apartment. She's ashamed of herself, but Tiberius had seen her at her worse and somehow isn't put off.

She needs to get over this before her next patient shows up. She can't help it, though. Brahm's picture and the heat in the office reminds her of burning, which reminds her of other unpleasant things that she has not had much success suppressing.

She needs professional help, but honestly, who has the time?

Maybe the next patient an easy fix.

There's no such thing, the little devil on her shoulder taunts.

She feels sick. She's tired and the unbearable gusts of hot air coming from the vents only makes her skin crawl more. She finds her way to the bathroom and splashes water in her face in a failed attempt to making herself feel better, but it just ruined what little makeup she had applied on her face. Waterproof her ass.

She wipes everything off with a makeup wipe, finding an odd sense of comfort at the way foundation color comes off her skin, revealing the stark contrast of black against her pale skin. She's used to the marks on her face and if people stare, she knows it's only because they're curious and she can't fault them for that curiosity. It's not often that someone in her profession would have tattoos this extensive all over her body and shifters can't have tattoos at all. She has them all over one side of her upper body, lines and curls snaking up her neck to her chin. They are impossible to ignore and they broadcast what she is to everyone.

Human.

So very human.

When she emerges from the bathroom, she feels slightly better, the evaporation of water from her skin making her feel less like she's sitting in a sauna. Or maybe it makes her feel more like she's sitting in a sauna.

It also helps that the magazine is nowhere in sight. One of the patients might have taken it with them on their way out.

"Maybe you should reschedule your next appointment, doctor. You don't look so good," Reggie says as she walks past him.

She levels a man with a glare that makes him shrivel a little. Some newcomers at work try to bully her because she's human and they automatically think she ranks lower than them. There's also the matter of her smaller stature that makes her look younger than she is. Even her teenage patients tower over her easily.

She suspects the reason why the heating system has been increased to such an uncomfortable level is because of him, but there are rules about keeping the working area comfortable for the shifters who had been hired to fill the positions and the HR Department isn't allowed to fire him because of some diversity thing.

"I just meant you look like you could take a break," he says. He sounds genuine and she feels bad for thinking the worst of him without knowing him at all. Her schedule is kept so full that it's difficult to get to know all her colleagues, but she tries.

"I'm sorry. I didn't sleep well, that's all," she lies. "I'm Kristine Baldovinetti. Everyone just calls me Doctor B," she says, extending her hand out to the man, who scrambles up from his seat and takes her hand eagerly.

"I'm Reggie," he says. "I started a few days ago. I'm sorry again for um... being rude. You just... you look tired. I could order a cup of coffee? Or an Mtonic or something?"

She grimaces. "I've been told that I had an Mtonic problem," she confesses. "I'd appreciate it if you keep those away from the office."

He nods and actually looks like he's noting that into the system. It's sweet.

She rubs a hand across her face and it comes away clammy with sweat. She sighs and considers keeping it to herself, but if she does that, nothing is going to change. "The heat is also getting to me a little," she adds quietly.

He grimaces. "I'm so sorry about that. I didn't bring my winter wear with me cause I didn't actually think I'd get the job in a place with central temperature regulator and it's Summer out. I thought I'd be waiting tables or working in the kitchens. People look at my resume and see that I'm a Snake Shifter and immediately think, 'Oh, must be a sleazy snake oil salesman' and don't even give me a chance. This is the first time I got hired for the job I applied for and what I studied for."

She feels bad for bringing it up now. "I um- I have a jacket that might fit you?" she offers.

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but you're tiny and I'm not sure if any of your clothes can fit me," he says, which is true. It's something she has gotten used to. Most Shifter animals in the city are bigger than her since they're mostly Predator shifters. Prey shifters tend to live in communities on their own and are few and far in between. Humans are even rarer. Shifters heal from diseases easier and most humans have died out.

"They're my ex um- my ex-lover's," she says. "He-" she swallows and hates herself a little for still being hurt by the mere thought of the man. "Well, I don't think he'll be coming back for it."

"Oh geez, I'm just stomping all over your feet today, aren't I? I'm so sorry. Yes, yes, please. Anything. That's probably why everyone's been glaring and side-eyeing me so hard. They should've said something," he sighs and types something into the computer.

A gust of cold air rushes into the room and she can suddenly breathe again.

"I am so sorry. And thank you so much for letting me know. You don't have to give me his stuff if you don't want to," he continues all in one breath, eyes slitting as he looks at her more seriously. "Breakups are hard. I hung onto all my lover's stuff until they're like, moldy and gross."

"It's been years," she says as if she hadn't held onto his jacket just the night before, breathing in a scent that is no longer there. "But you might need to um... wash them in some kind of special neutralizing detergent to get rid of the scent?" she blushes.

He nods, serious and not at all judging her, which she appreciates more than words can say.

It's not like she's one of those Shifters with enhanced senses of smell, but she can't bring herself to wash his clothes. It feels too final. But she can- she needs to get rid of them. Nina has been telling her to get rid of all his stuff for years now. She'll be so proud.

"Your patient is here," Reggie says suddenly, gesturing to the young man who had just walked into the office with a Bear Shifter behind him. He looks like he would rather be anywhere but here. When he looks up and sees her tattoos, his eyes widen and he looks like he has a million questions for her.

"Doctor Baldovinetti," the Bear Shifter bellows, stumbling forward and is only able to stop himself from greeting her with a hug because she quickly steps behind the desk.

She offers him a hand instead. "Mr. Romulus. Always a pleasure," she says. The man is kind, but he still has a thing or two to learn about personal space.

"Lies," he chuckles. "This is Edgar," he says. "He has a cough."

The young human boy greets her a little shyly. Those are most of the patients that she gets, humans who are more comfortable if they have human doctors. She takes pro bono cases from the orphanage sometimes because they can't really afford her rates. She enjoys them, though. The children are always excited to see her.

"Edgar, say hi to Doctor Baldovinetti."

"Just Doctor B is fine," she laughs. Even her older patients have trouble with her name.

The young man waves at her and lets out a dry cough that is followed by another and another and she ushers him into her office quickly, levelling Romulus with a half-hearted glare to remind him to stay in place.

Edgar is a pleasant enough boy. He is curious about her tattoos, but old enough to keep the question to himself. He has a dry cough that isn't really serious, but the lack of any health history beforehand is worrying enough that she starts a file for him, taking his height and weight and scheduling him for a semi-annual check up.

Young humans living together with Predator Shifters require special care that the government isn't always ready to provide.

"I can't pay for any of that," he blurts out when she's digging out the vitamins that are probably missing from his diet. The prevalence of Predator Shifters in the area means there is a lack of greens in his nutritional intake. She has to take the supplements and she's careful with her diet.

"Pro bono means I'm taking your case without payment," she says without looking up from under the desk. "It also means you get my personal number, but you aren't allowed to abuse it. You only call me in case of medical emergencies," she says, leveling him with a glare because she has had little shitheads who try to text her inappropriate questions. "If you text me 'for fun' or share my text to your friends, I will change my number and block you and then you will have to go through Mr. Romulus for all your awkward medical problems, which is never fun because you and I both know Mr. Romulus has a problem with oversharing and volume control," she says as if that particular issue isn't completely deliberate.

Color fades from his face. "Is that what happened to Jimmy Gilson?"

She snorts. "Are you guys still talking about that? Jimmy's a well-respected member of society now. He's training to be a police officer, you know? Well, they will probably assign him a desk job to keep him out of the line of fire, but it's still an admirable profession." It gives her a begrudging sense of admiration every time the name is brought up by the newcomers. Romulus is a very good guardian who knows how to keep all his charges in line. Jimmy Gilson doesn't exist.

"He's a cop now? But he's- he had something up his butt," he whispers.

The poor imaginary guy is never going to live that down. "And if you get anything stuck up your butt, you'll call me too because that would count as a medical emergency," she tells him somberly, hiding her amusement.

"I would never!" he shakes his head so violently that she worries for his neck and his face is bright red now.

"You have a social worker, yes?" she asks.

He nods.

"Jerome Black?" she prods.

He shakes his head. "I have Ms. Om- om something."

Fucking Milesent Omtoress. The woman has a fascination with humans and has been publishing terrible books on how to raise human children as if she has had any experience whatsoever. The only reason why Kristine is a published author now is because of sheer spite for the woman. Every time she releases a book, Kristine would write one that calls her out for all the bullshit. She keeps the disgust from her face and says, "I'll put on a request to shift you to Mr. Black. There are two humans in the system, Allison and Jerome Black. They're married and have their own children, two boys and a girl, so they've seen everything. You can talk to them about anything, okay?" she continues.

She is the only doctor in the system and some boys get embarrassed about their body functions. The Black couple keeps her informed discreetly in those cases so she can pass them whatever the kids need. Sometimes, it's just condoms and lube and other times it's more serious medication.

"Hospital rule dictates that I am only allowed to take two cases a week in the office, but I make home visits as well when the situation calls for it or, when I finish that quota, which I normally do. I only have so many hours a day, so sometimes I don't go immediately, but that doesn't mean I don't care, okay?" she hums.

He looks a little overwhelmed. "Okay," he says. "That's really nice of you, Doctor B."

"The world is tougher for you and me," she tells him honestly and knows by the way his eyes whip up at her face that no one has told him that before. It was like that for her growing up too, parents telling her that as long as she studies hard and works smart, she can do and be whatever she wants to be. "We're not like the others," she continues.

"But Mr. Rom says," he starts and then clamps up.

"Tell me," she prompts.

"He says that just because I'm different, doesn't mean I'm less..." he licks his lips and tries to think of the right way to express himself. "Less um... Less than the others."

"And that's true," she nods. "There are things, however, that we can't do no matter how much we try," she says. "We can't do magic, we can't run as fast as most Shifters can, and we certainly can't heal as fast," she continues and regrets the way his face falls at the hard truths. "But we have our own advantages. Can you tell me a few things we can do that others can't?"

His eyes dart to the tattoos on the side of her face. This close, she is well aware that he can see the scarification better, the indents of skin between the black marks that are not visible from afar, the sunken-in-flesh and slight glow of skin that, if he's a shifter, would stink of magic so dense he would not be able to miss. "We can get tattoos?" he asks, timid, trying to bring up the marks on her skin without appearing too blunt about it.

She grimaces, hand coming up to her face. Even now, years after the attack, she can't help but flinch at the way her skin is colder at her touch, almost foreign. "Ah," she smiles sadly. "That, and there are other things too. We can stay under the sun for more than a few hours at a time, though you have to use sunscreen!" she says.

He is hanging onto her every word.

"We don't have to worry about things having iron in anything in case they will burn us, and only a few plant species are poisonous to us," she says. Werewolves react negatively to a variety of them.

"What can we do that mages can't?" he asks.

Be better people, she thinks savagely to herself, but manages a slight smile. "Every spell, every potion they make requires sacrifice. The stronger the magic, the bigger the offering they have to prepare," she says. "It's why they aren't allowed to cast spells that aren't sanctioned by the government. It may sound like fun and games, but most Mages live normal lives to avoid the unexpected consequences of casting spells without providing a perfect balance."

"They're like us?"

"Exactly like us," she says and then grimaces, remembering her Mtonic habit. "They brew potions, but those is more like science than magic," she says even though that's not completely accurate. The potions only work if mages are the ones to prepare them. "It's easier for them to live like us, because sometimes, even when they do the spells perfectly and follow all the rules, they still find themselves paying back for it tenfold," she murmurs and claps her hands together, the sharp slap of her palms together making him jolt and sit straight up. "It's late and Mr. Romulus must be starving. Best get over to him before he decides to have you for dinner!" she jokes, handing him the bag of supplies.

He rolls his eyes. "Mr. Romulus is vegetarian."

She smiles, "Of course he is." He's such a sweet man.