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River's Recruit (The Sanctuary Series)




  Contents

  Title page

  Prologue

  Chapter One - Five Years Later

  River

  Eli

  River

  Chapter Two - Shattered

  River

  Jonathan

  River

  Eli

  Jonathan

  Chapter Three - Breaking Boundaries

  Jonathan

  River

  Jonathan

  River

  Jonathan

  Chapter Four - Prophecies

  Jonathan

  River

  Chapter Five - Plots, Plans and Politics

  Eli

  Jonathan

  River

  Chapter Six - Friends and Enemies

  Chapter Seven - Dangerous Secrets

  Jonathan

  River

  Jonathan

  River

  Chapter Eight - Forbidden Fruit

  Jonathan

  River

  Jonathan

  River

  Chapter Nine - Call of the Wolf

  River

  Jonathan

  Chapter Ten - Proxy

  Jonathan

  River

  Jonathan

  Chapter Eleven - Betrayed

  River

  Jonathan

  River

  Jonathan

  Acknowledgements

  Blood Debt by Nancy Straight

  Enchantment by Charlotte Abel

  Endorsements

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  A beautiful, young shape-shifter discovers a lost backpacker trespassing in her territory during a blizzard. She has two choices: recruit him into her cult-like tribe, or kill him.

  Overview:

  Jonathan McKnight lost everything in Afghanistan. His left hand, his identical twin, his self-respect and his naive belief that good always conquers evil. Burdened by grief and guilt, he searches for redemption on a solo backpacking trip into the remote Sawatch Mountains of Colorado and discovers a secret tribe of shifters.

  River, the beautiful young woman that rescues Jonathan from a deadly blizzard has been promised to a man she despises. A man that does not desire her and only wants to use her to achieve his own political goals. Jonathan is more than a romantic rival. He’s a threat to those goals. The only way to save Jonathan’s life is to take him as her recruit.

  As Jonathan learns more about River’s cult-like society, he becomes even more determined to escape it, until he learns that River is responsible for everything he does and will be executed if he succeeds.

  Escape is not an option—unless Jonathan can persuade River to leave with him. And if she refuses? Well, then, he’ll just have to kidnap her.

  Praise for River’s Recruit

  “I felt Jonathan's desperation right down into my bones and was crying right along with him. This story reached out and grabbed me, and didn't let me go until the very end. Charlotte Abel is on the top ten of my favorite authors list and her books are on my keeper shelf so that I can go back to her wonderful worlds that she creates as much as I want to! It doesn't get better than that!”—Jen Berg

  “This is by far the best book Charlotte Abel has ever written, loved the plot, simply amazing”—Karla Caldaza

  “Great characters, romance, intrigue and plot twists. What more could you ask for?”—Christina Harris

  Other Books by Charlotte Abel

  Enchantment: Book One of The Channie Series

  Kindle Bestseller Top 20 “Love and Romance”

  “This book will make you believe in magic.”— J. Timothy King author of From the Ashes of Courage

  Taken: Book Two of The Channie Series

  Top 20 Kindle Bestseller “Love and Romance”

  “Charlotte Abel has proven she can stand the heat and keep producing magical adventures for her fans to get lost in. I plan to have a front row seat!”—Nicole Passante

  Prologue

  River tried not to think about how far underground they’d traveled; or how many tons of rock pressed down on the ancient tunnels; or how dark it would be if the flickering torches ran out of oil. She desperately tried not to think about how many people were breathing the limited supply of air.

  When she and Mother finally arrived at the entrance to the underground arena, an enforcer stepped in front of them, barring their way. “No children.”

  River squared her shoulders, stretching to her full height, but still had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. “I’m not a child.”

  He glanced at River’s flat chest then arched an eyebrow.

  She gritted her teeth and tugged the front of her tunic aside, displaying the patronymic tattoos over her heart, proving she’d passed her thirteenth birthday.

  The heirs of Sanctuary Mountain tended to look down their noses at surface dwellers like River, but the enforcer’s eyes widened when his gaze fell upon the howling wolf of Asher tattooed over Issachar’s bow.

  That’s right, you simple-minded fool. The blood of two alpha’s flows through my veins.

  The enforcer tilted his head to the side without lowering his chin—showing respect without submission. “Forgive me, daughter of Asher and Issachar’s daughter. You may enter.”

  River followed Mother past the upholstered chairs of the ruling class, down seventy-seven steps, to the stone benches reserved for surface dwellers. Their friends and neighbors nodded in greeting as they took their seats on the front row. But no one spoke, as was proper on such a solemn occasion.

  The pit in the center of the cavern was at least twenty feet deep. The only entrance was directly across from River, blocked by an iron gate and guarded by another enforcer. Once the ceremony began, there would be no escape.

  The enforcer nodded to someone in the royal section then opened the gate. The creaking hinges echoed inside the cavern. Two barefoot servant girls in knee-length tunics entered the arena. They smoothed the sand with shallow-toothed rakes then disappeared back inside the tunnel.

  Eli, son of Zebulon’s daughter, swaggered into the arena wearing nothing but a loin cloth. His seventeen-year-old body still had the look of adolescence; but he carried himself with confidence. When he reached the center of the arena, he took a slow breath that expanded his chest then turned around and nodded at the gatekeeper.

  A deep growl rumbled out of the tunnel. The sound filled the viewing gallery and echoed off the cavern’s walls. River hugged herself when a huge, black wolf stepped into the arena. The beast’s tail pointed straight up … an alpha male.

  You were supposed to choose the strongest animal you believed you could subdue, but this was absurd.

  The tension inside the cavern grew with each passing moment as Eli crept forward.

  The wolf curled its lips back over glistening teeth, wrinkling its muzzle. It lowered its head and slunk to the other side of the arena, hugging the smooth stone wall. Then stopped right below River.

  A rim of white completely encircled Eli’s dark blue irises. His hands trembled as he reached towards the wolf.

  River fought the urge to cover her eyes. If Eli didn’t conquer his fear, the merge wouldn’t work. The wolf would destroy him.

  The wolf growled then launched its body into the air. It clamped its jaws around Eli’s wrist and jerked its head to the side, throwing him to the ground.

  A woman on the other side of the arena screamed. River recognized Eli’s mother, Shula, just before she exploded out of her clothes and shifted into a light gray wolf. A collective gasp, followed by a murmur of disapproval, swept through the crowd.

  Shula knocked a councilman and two of his wives out of their seats as she charged
down the stairs and leapt into the arena below.

  The wolf released Eli and backed away from him, amber eyes darting back and forth between the man and this new threat.

  Eli cradled his bloody hand against his naked chest and scrambled to his feet. “Stay out of this, woman! You dishonor me.”

  Shula tucked her tail between her legs then darted towards the exit. The enforcer opened the gate and let her pass without so much as a glance.

  Eli swiped his bloody hand across his belly then reached out again. This time, when the wolf attacked, Eli embraced it, wrapping his arms and legs around the animal’s body. He clung to the wolf as it writhed, snarling and gnashing its teeth.

  A burst of blinding light forced River to blink and turn away.

  When her vision cleared, Eli was gone.

  The wolf lay on his side, panting, tongue lolling in the sand. It seemed like an eternity before he clambered to his feet and opened his eyes. Instead of amber, they glowed with sapphire light. It worked! Eli merged with his spirit guide!

  River expected the crowd to burst into riotous celebration, but there was only a mild ripple of applause.

  She looked up at Mother and arched her eyebrows, not certain if she was allowed to speak yet.

  Mother smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Shula’s interference tainted Eli’s victory. If she were not Zebulon’s daughter, the council would punish her.”

  River wouldn’t wish that fate on her worst enemy.

  Mother patted River’s knee. “Look, he’s shifting back already.”

  ~***~

  The party celebrating Eli’s merge began immediately. The cavern where everyone gathered was even larger than the viewing area above the arena. Servants darted in and out of tunnels, bearing platters of food and pitchers of wine. The surface dwellers’ tables were just as heavily laden as the heirs of Sanctuary, but the food was much simpler. River longed to sample the delicacies on the other side of the room, but she was not a thief.

  The chattering crowd quieted when Zebulon entered the cavern. He smiled at the crowd but his gaze sent a chill down River’s spine. “I wish to welcome you all on this most joyous occasion.”

  So, he was going to ignore Shula’s sin. River searched the crowd of Zebulon’s mates, concubines and descendants arranged behind him in order of importance, but did not see Eli’s mother. She spotted their neighbor, Reuben, with his wife and son, Gabriel. He grinned and waved at her. How had he managed to get in? He was three years younger than River. He was a big kid, and Zebulon’s grandson, so the entrance guards probably hadn’t even questioned him. He’d brag about it for weeks.

  Zebulon swept his arm towards the tunnel to his right with a flourish. “I now present my esteemed grandson, Eli, son of Zebulon’s daughter.”

  The crowd cheered and clapped but the tunnel remained empty. A beet-red flush mottled Zebulon’s neck and face. “Eli! Get out here.”

  Eli stumbled out of the tunnel, blinking and squinting. His unlaced breeches hung low on his hips. He wore no vest, boots or tunic. Blood seeped through the bandage on his wrist where the wolf bit him.

  River cringed, expecting Zebulon to chastise Eli, but the old man clapped with delight and roared with laughter. “I see my blood runs strong in your veins! How many did it take to quench your fever?”

  Eli dropped his gaze for a fraction of a second then lifted his chin and puffed out his chest. “Four.”

  All the men in the crowd hooted and cheered, including Zebulon. The women clapped, but their responses were much more subdued.

  River tugged on Mother’s sleeve. “He mated with four women?”

  “So he claims.”

  “But I thought it only took two to cure merge fever for men.”

  “The more women a man takes during merge fever, the more esteem he gains with the tribe. It proves his virility and increases his chances of achieving alpha rank. Most heirs of Sanctuary claim three, but Eli needed to make up for Shula’s disgrace.”

  At least it only took one man to cure a woman’s fever. River looked forward to the day she merged with her own wolf, but dreaded what came afterwards. Mother had assured her that she would be ready when the time came; that she would want to mate. And that afterwards, her heart would be bound to his for all eternity. She would love her mate more than anything, even her own life. It sounded good, but the fact that women were the only ones that bonded put them at a distinct disadvantage. River did not want to be bound to any man, but there was no other way to cure merge fever. And if you didn’t cure it, you died.

  The celebration went on for hours, but River didn’t want it to end. She wasn’t ready to go back to her dreary life where every minute of every day was devoted to survival. Mother tucked a strand of hair behind River’s ear. “Aren’t you getting tired?”

  “No.” River tried to stifle a yawn but the harder she tried, the harder it became. She finally gave in and yawned so wide her eyes watered.

  Mother smiled then draped an arm over River’s shoulders and led her outside. It was too late to begin the journey home but they couldn’t afford to rent an enclave inside Sanctuary. So, they bedded down in the forest. River fell asleep to the sounds of drunken revelry and woke up a few hours later with a man’s thick palm pressed against her mouth.

  She could barely breathe, much less scream. She writhed, kicked and scratched but the man was too strong. She didn’t recognize him, but she could tell by his paunch and soft, un-calloused hands that he was no surface dweller.

  He dragged her away from the campfire, deeper into the shadows. He threw her to the ground, knocking the wind out of her, then straddled her hips and shoved a rag in her mouth. He grabbed both her wrists and yanked her arms above her head. “If you please me, maybe I’ll take you as a concubine.”

  River arched her back, trying to wiggle out from under him.

  He slapped her. Hard. “Be still you little whore.”

  River bucked even harder.

  He laughed, but the sound ended abruptly with a gargling cough that sprayed River’s face with blood. His eyes widened into full circles. He groaned once then fell over sideways.

  “Are you alright?” Mother brushed the tears off River’s cheeks.

  “Yes.”

  “Can you walk? We need to get out of here.”

  River nodded and scrambled to her feet.

  They got their horses out of the corral without incident and rode for two days before the enforcers caught up with them.

  ~***~

  Three days after their capture, River stood with her head slightly bowed, hands clasped in front of her chest in the proper attitude of submissive humility. But she glared at the white-robed men seated behind the granite altar. Her voice echoed inside the chamber. “I’m almost an adult. I do not need your protection.”

  She’d rather die than live inside that opulent tomb, mated to the highest bidder. But Mother wanted her to live. At thirteen, River was nearly too old to escape the law of extended accountability. If she were just one year older, she would have paid for her mother’s “crime” with her life as well.

  The high-councilman steepled his thick fingers beneath his chin and cocked an eyebrow. “Perhaps; but who’s going to protect us from you?”

  If River had any hope of controlling her own destiny, she had to prove she wouldn’t try to avenge Mother’s death. She closed her eyes for a moment then lifted her chin and met the high-councilman’s gaze. “My mother was a criminal; tried and convicted of murder. She shamed me, my ancestors and my father’s memory. I will not mourn her loss nor avenge her death.”

  The words of betrayal left a bitter taste in River’s mouth. But they were the words Mother had begged her to say—right before they led her to the gallows.

  The high-councilman narrowed his pale grey eyes and caressed the handle of his oak gavel. His gaze traveled the length of River’s body. “Do you bleed?”

  A flush of heat crept up River’s neck and spread across her cheeks. She pressed he
r lips together and glared at the man as she jerked her head in a quick nod.

  “Then there is no reason to postpone your mating.”

  River took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “I haven’t merged with my spirit guide!”

  Once mated, a shifter couldn’t merge with their spirit guide. River would be an omega, a servant.

  “Silence!” The councilman’s shout ricocheted off the stone walls of the chamber and echoed through the adjoining tunnels.

  River’s face burned. She was sure all of New Eden heard the rebuke. “Forgive me, but if you would just hear me out—”

  “We’ve heard quite enough already. It is this council’s decision that you be given to Zebulon. Let him decide your fate.”

  Zebulon? River’s heart hammered against her ribs as her stomach dropped to her feet.

  The high-councilman raised his gavel, but before it fell and sealed River’s destiny, Reuben stepped forward and shouted, “I claim this woman for myself.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  Five Years Later

  Jonathan McKnight tapped on Franklin’s bedroom door then opened it and stuck his head inside. It was hard to believe they were identical twins when you compared their two rooms. Jonathan couldn’t walk across his floor without stepping on something, but Franklin’s floor was clean enough to eat on. It wasn’t even noon yet, and he’d already made his bed. Jonathan couldn’t remember the last time he’d made his. “Hey, Frankie, can I borrow your sleeping bag?”

  Franklin sighed, laid his book face down on his desk then turned towards Jonathan and narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

  “I have a date and mine smells like stale beer.”

  “That’s disgusting; and the answer is definitely no.”

  Jonathan stepped into Franklin's room then shut the door behind him and leaned against it. “Come on. It’s my last chance to hook up with Carrie.”