Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 149301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Kage Wilde thrives in solitude. A hunter and outdoorsman, he lives off the grid, avoiding society and trusting few. But when his ruthless grandfather demands his return to their corrupt family empire, Kage is thrust into a fight to protect his principles—and his freedom.
Poet Constantine is a dedicated museum taxidermist who finds solace in nature and the quiet life she’s built with her beloved aunt. Though content, she yearns for a deeper connection. When her work leads her to Kage’s remote world, she’s unprepared for the untamed, magnetic man who turns her life upside down. Tall, tattooed, and dangerously captivating, Kage awakens a desire she can’t deny. What begins as an unnerving encounter, quickly transforms into an intense, undeniable connection.
Kage’s raw intensity draws Poet in, while her warmth and strength ignite something in him he didn’t know he was missing. But the patriarch of the Wilde dynasty won’t let him go without a fight, and his grandfather’s schemes threaten to destroy the fragile happiness they’ve found together. As danger looms and the hunter becomes the hunted,
Kage and Poet must stand together against the storm. Their love may be powerful, but will it be enough to survive the chaos? A gripping romance filled with fiery passion, unyielding suspense, and raw desire, this story will leave you breathless until the final page.
From USA Today bestselling author Tiana Laveen comes Book three of the 7 Deadly Kins series. Come along for a dark love story packed with nail-biting suspense, retribution and yearning. ‘The Lone Wolf – Sloth’ is an exciting, forced proximity, grumpy sunshine, emotional scars, dark secrets, possessive alpha hero, bad boy contemporary romance. It’s the third installment in the series, but can be read as a standalone novel. It has no cliffhanger, and has a HEA (Happily-ever-after). This book includes mature themes and content that may not be suitable for all audiences—reader discretion is advised. Please look inside under the ‘Trigger Warnings’ for possible topics that may be deemed personally objectionable
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PROLOGUE
Kage crouched beneath the dense coppice of trees, his knee pads sinking into the cool earth. An unnerving silence surrounded him and clung to his nerves like a cloak, heavy with layers of caution, and wet with the sweat of a million petrified spectral apparitions. The morning sun had only shown one glowing, soft yellow finger from beyond the veil of sheer darkness, whispering softly to clustered, murky clouds. An owl hooted in the distance, perched upon a tall, wiry tree. Kage fixated on his target. He looked through the scope of his rifle, paying attention to what was both seen and unseen.
Drivels of sweat poured down his face—a warm, tickling sensation followed before the droplets seeped into his eyebrows, mustache and beard. The acrid flavor of cold coffee repeated across his tongue as he swallowed his disappointment in life itself. The shifting of shaky shadows and blackening of trees forced him to perch higher from his kneeled position to get an accurate assessment. The slight swing in the foliage offered sparse illumination among hints of green and brown. And now, he was more certain than ever. Shiny, slick eyes shimmered in the distance, frantically adjusting to the ebb of the night and penetrating brush. A spark of light reached his iris. Doe. A deer… Drop of mornin’ sun…
BANG!!! BANG BANG!!!
An animalistic groan emitted high and wide from the source, followed by a thud. He stayed put, and when he heard another snap, he shot again.
BANG! BANG!
…And again.
Thud.
Silence.
He waited, his face now a hot, sweaty mess, and his muscles taut with pulsating adrenaline, the blood coursing through his veins like hot lava. He patiently lingered until his intuition told him it was time to rise and show himself. Standing slowly to his full height of six foot seven, he took steady steps to collect the white-tailed deer. After a short three minute trek, successfully navigating past the multiple squirrel traps on his property, he reached the bounty. Two.
He scooped them up onto his shoulders. The warmth of their heavy frames turned into dead weight against his twisting and turning back. He moved much slower as he neared his house, the weight of both deer growing heavier with each step. With his rifle in one hand, and his other keeping the prey steady, he managed. As soon as he arrived at the front door, he placed his gun against the porch, pressed his thumb on the sensor, and at the chime and click, entered the house.
He locked the door behind him, then took a deep breath. His newly built home still smelled strongly of crisp cedar and cypress lumber, leather and moss. The odors stung his nostrils, blending with the sweet, nauseating bouquet of freshly shed blood.
Heading to the back of his home, he entered a room created specifically for his hunting, fishing, and work supplies. It was a cool, darkish room, with only one small window, tall walls, and lots of shelves. In the middle was a large metal sloped table, like one may see in a butcher shop. At the end of it were stacks of large buckets used to collect the innards, haul water, or wash the concrete floor.
He let one deer slip off his shoulder onto the table, followed by the other on top of it. Reaching for the overhead light, he tugged the chain, and the electricity buzzed and hummed for a few moments.
The preys’ eyes were glassy and troubled. Satisfied with his handwork, he turned on his mp3 player that sat on a work bench in the corner with bits of white paint dappled along it. ‘COLTER WALL – IMAGINARY APPALACHIA – The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie’ banged from the speaker. He grabbed a pair of black latex gloves from a box of fifty, slipped them onto his large, tattooed hands, then put on a black, floor length butcher smock. Grabbing some meat-cutting shears and an axe that hung from the rafter, he got to skinning his meat, humming to the music, his hand steady and his eye precise.
Peace settled over him. He placed their hides into bags and worked diligently, until each one was sectioned into approximately twenty-one pieces, including their heads. A bit over an hour had come and gone, but it felt like a mere five minutes. He turned towards the window and winked at the sun, then opened it wide to allow a bit more ventilation. The buckets were now filled to the brim with tissue, membranes, blood and bone. He turned on two industrial sized fans, letting them oscillate. The all too familiar coppery aroma of death filled his lungs. He caught his reflection in a metal paper towel dispenser as he moved about. His face was speckled with runny red splotches, and his hair that he’d tucked behind his ear, was partially dyed dark pink. He grinned at himself, proud as he was. Painted in pleasure.