Logan's Acadian Wolves (2 page)

“Kat, we both miss Marcel. It’s been hard on both of us. But you’ve got to go spend time with Tristan. Tend to your shop. And when things settle down, if you still want to come back here, you know you’re always welcome. But for now, we’re just using each other. It’s not healthy…for either of us.”

She shook her head in denial. “It’s not like I don’t know you’re right. It’s just…I miss him so damn much.”

“I do too, baby, but this isn’t the answer.” Logan pressed his lips to her wet cheek. “It’ll be okay. Go home. Comfort Tris. He needs you as much as you need him.”

“When are you leaving for the city?” She lifted her head as he gently released her arms.

“Tonight. Dimitri and I are leaving in a few hours,” he told her with a small smile.

“I’ll miss you. And Dimitri,” she contemplated, accepting that her time in New Orleans was coming to an end.

The past months since her brother’s death had been awful. The only thing that had made anything slightly tolerable was the hot nights she’d spent with Logan and his beta. Instead of openly grieving, she’d buried her feelings deeply. As sister to the slain Alpha, she chose to be strong for the pack, for Logan.

“I’ll miss you too, but it’s time. I didn’t choose this, but it’s my path. I’ve got to move on for the sake of my wolves,” he explained. “And you need to let go of him. Marcel’s gone. You need to be able to grieve. As long as you are here, you’ll never move on.”

The steel band that wrapped her heart in grief tightened. Wolves didn’t die, especially not her strong Alpha brother. It was as if Logan’s words made it real. She knew he was dead, saw them lower his body into the grave, smelled his scent in the earth every time she went for a run. He was truly gone.

Sensing her retreat within her own mind, Logan pulled her into his arms, cradling her head to his breast. “It’s okay to let go,” he whispered.

A gasp of devastation gushed from her chest before she had a chance to swallow it. The wave of depression washed over the walls of sanity she’d tried so hard to build. Digging her fingers into his shoulders, she sobbed, the anguish of losing her sibling no longer held at bay. Goddess, she missed her big brother. She knew in that moment that as much as she loved Logan, it was Tristan she needed. He was the only one who’d comprehend the heartache that tore her apart.

Logan held tight to his longtime friend, comforting her as best he could. He’d call Tristan tonight and have her home by morning. They both needed closure, and getting her to face her loss was the only way to commence healing.

“That’s it, Kat. It’s all right. Let it out.”

Realizing how she’d lost it, she tried to pull away from him, but he held her tighter still. “Don’t hide.”

“But I can’t…” she cried, desperately wanting to curl into a ball.

“You don’t need to be the strong Alpha’s sister. It’s just me. And I’m the Alpha who comforts you now. Tomorrow, you’ll be with Tris, and it’ll all be okay. I promise.” Purposefully, he let his power flow; calming waves emanated from his body to hers, wrapping her in a loving cocoon of peace. Refusing to let her retreat, he embraced her until she finally quieted. As her last tears fell, she looked up at him with awe, with the understanding that her friend was no longer her brother’s beta. No, he was their equal.

Logan wore the veil of responsibility as if he’d led the pack his entire life. He’d fought over a dozen wolves to earn the title, and it had been respectfully earned. A double-edged sword, loving or lethal, depending on the situation, there was no doubt about the male who held her in his arms. Capable of ameliorating pain or inciting it, he’d provide guidance and discipline to the wolves. As if she’d woken from a long sleep, Katrina looked into Logan’s deep blue eyes, shivering with the realization that he’d changed. Altogether deliberate and dominant, a new wolf had been born. He was Alpha.

Logan sat on the cracked leather barstool watching his wolves celebrate. As he drank his beer, he smiled to himself, amused at the curveball life had thrown him. He felt exhilarated to be back in the French Quarter. After Marcel had died, he’d sold the Alpha’s Garden District pack house, per Tristan’s request. He was thrilled to be rid of the monstrosity, considering the death he’d caused and witnessed that disastrous night. There was no way he’d step one foot back into that house, let alone hold any pack activities there.

In contrast, his new home soothed his soul, reminding him of his Creole roots. Newly reconditioned, it mirrored his life. Long before Marcel’s demise, he’d started restoring the early nineteenth century three-story corner mansion. But his newfound position had accelerated the renovations, so he’d be able to live in the city. As much as he loved running wolf, the urbane food and culture were every bit a part of who he was. He’d made sure that his wolves were close by in adjoining townhouses on his street.

The only wolf he allowed to live with him was Dimitri. The quaint guest cottage on the property gave them both the closeness and privacy they needed. While he’d grown up with Dimitri, the connection between him and his beta had grown stronger over the past month. Their relationship had deepened in both respect and trust. And while Logan had initially felt awkward about his need for a beta, he soon embraced the bond. They’d shared more than a house. Pack challenges. Business. Women. Their intimacy had grown exponentially each day, but Logan no longer questioned why. Instinctively, he knew it was as natural as the sun rising.

After returning to the city and pulling into the carport, Logan insisted that he and Dimitri go to Courettes for drinks and celebration. He felt the wave of contentment that had washed through the pack. They had needed a leader, one determined to withstand multiple challenges, and he’d shown he was worthy. And in return, he needed to be with them and around them.

Courettes was an open-air, casual French Quarter establishment. What made the bar unique was that, thanks to a witch’s spell, only paranormals could see into the bar or enter. To humans, it simply looked like a quiet home with closed wooden shutters. Because tonight was an Acadian wolf celebration, few vampires and witches attended. As the zydeco band played, wolves danced sensually to the indigenous beats.

Sitting at the bar, Dimitri shot Logan a questioning look, realizing his mind was far from the party that was going on around him.

“Alpha, what’s up?”

“Nothin’. Just feels good to be back home in the city. Life is good,” Logan responded, gazing intently at the many she-wolves who’d begun to peel off some of their clothing as the atmosphere became more heated.

“You were amazing tonight.” Dimitri clapped his hand on Logan’s shoulder. “The pack, they’re calm. It’s finally over.”

“Yeah. And I meant it too. I’m done. Next challenge ends in death,” he stated coldly. Logan was so finished with this shit. Acadian Wolves were his and the next wolf who started a fight was as good as dead.

“Oh, I know. You made that perfectly clear. It was awesome, though, bro,” Dimitri laughed. “When’s Kat leaving?”

“Tomorrow.” Logan pinched the bridge of his nose and plowed his hand through his hair. “She’s still broken up about Marcel. Then again, it’s not every day you lose your brother. Tristan is the only one who can really help her heal. It’s not easy letting her go, but it’s time for us all to move on. And today, my friend, is that day.” He took a swig of his beer.

“Speaking of moving on…” Dimitri nodded nonchalantly over to a gorgeous redhead whose eyes flirtatiously flashed over to his and then back to the band. Her fiery curly hair fell to the middle of her back, accentuating her slim waist and full hips.

“Ah, yes, Fiona. She’s been after me for the past two months,” Logan confessed.

“No surprise there, I guess.” The women had been circling around his new Alpha ever since the first challenge. But after tonight’s edict, Dimitri expected them to become more aggressive, actively vying for Logan’s attention. “Honestly, between Luci and Kat, you’ve had your hands full. I cannot begin to tell you how happy I am that we moved back here and out of that mansion.”

“Yeah well, soon that mansion is going to be a clubhouse. It’s Marcel’s, not mine. And since he’s not here, it belongs to the pack. Thank Goddess we’re back in the city, though, ’cause I need my space. No offense, man.” Logan laughed.

“None taken,” Dimitri concurred and held up his glass. “I’ll be good to go in the cottage house. Close enough but not on top of you.”

Logan turned to him, smiling and nodding. They clinked glasses in cheers and drank.

“Alpha.” Logan turned his attention toward the submissive voice that sang his name.

“Fiona, how are you? You look beautiful tonight.” Logan acknowledged as he and Dimitri stood to greet the alluring wolf.

“Thank you, sir. Hello, Dimitri.” She smiled and nodded at him.

“I must agree with our Alpha, cher. You look lovely.”

She blushed in response, but didn’t move away. “It’s because of the challenge. Everyone can feel it. It’s been so long since we’ve felt any peace…with Marcel gone and all.”

“How about a dance to celebrate?” Dimitri suggested, glancing over to Logan.

“With you both?” She questioned seductively, batting her eyelashes.

Logan smiled in response, quickly weighing his answer. He supposed one dance with the attractive little she-wolf couldn’t hurt. Gently taking her hand in his, he led her out to the dance floor, Dimitri following.

Fiona laughed quietly as Logan swept her into his arms. The music slowed, and Dimitri came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. The threesome began to move as one on the dance floor and a palpable sexual energy snapped in the air. Sandwiched between the tall, sexy men, Fiona rejoiced at her successful seduction. She had wanted these men for such a long time, yet it had been the first time she’d touched them intimately. She immediately bared her throat, offering both the Alpha and his beta everything she was.

Logan, surprised by Fiona’s gesture, tried to ignore her invitation. But as she rubbed her pelvis against his, it became difficult not to respond. He wasn’t interested in bringing her home with him, but neither did he want to insult her. His beta, on the other hand, clearly felt differently. Logan watched as Dimitri bent his knees, brushing his hard arousal against her bottom.

“Hmm,” she cooed, simply swaying back and forth, letting the men dictate the pace and direction of their hot encounter.

“Fi, look what you are doing to my beta,” Logan whispered in her ear.

“Alpha,” she moaned, digging her nails into his shoulders.

“I do think she’s enjoying our dance,” Dimitri commented, sliding his hands up her waist, his fingertips nearly touching the swell of her breasts. “Perhaps we could take this somewhere more private?”

“Yes,” she gasped.

Logan’s eyes met Dimitri’s in an effort to silently communicate that he was about to bow out, when he realized something was happening outside the bar. He wasn’t sure if it was the smell of her blood or the flash of her long blonde hair that first caught his attention. A bloodied woman tore down the street, vampires following her in pursuit. The woman from his vision.
What the fuck?

“What is it?” Dimitri tensed, snapping his head around to the street.

“Sorry, Fi. Gonna have to do this another time.” Logan kissed her forehead and took off toward the exit. “D. Outside. Now. Something’s going down.”

Wynter’s lungs burned. She bent over trying to catch her breath as she hid behind the rotted wooden door. Her heart beat like a hummingbird as she considered her next move. It had been exactly two months and thirteen days, since she’d been taken hostage. Escaping had been no small feat. With nothing but time, she’d planned for days and had finally done it. Wearing only a dirty white lab coat over her bra and panties, she sprinted down the street. Disoriented, she was uncertain where they’d moved the operation. A quick glance up to the wrought iron balconies lined with cascading ferns told her she was in New Orleans. She shook her head in disbelief.
Fucking assholes
. Wynter had lost track of how many times they relocated her. When she’d first started working for them, she’d been in New York City. But after they’d discovered her intentions, she’d been treated like cargo; blindfolded, handcuffed and gagged as they traveled from state to state.

Endless days in the lab led into nightly bleedings by the vampires. They soon learned, however, that their virologist couldn’t think straight if her brain lacked blood. But even after they stopped draining her, their threat remained clear and present. Screw up or argue too much, and they’d drag her to the floor, sinking their fangs into her flesh as punishment. As much as she’d kept her nose buried in the work, managing to mentally catalog their protocols, she’d lost chunks of time. She’d nearly given up hope of living, fearing no one would come for her.

Desperate, her plan had been flimsy at best but she’d rather die trying to escape than be imprisoned. Staking the vampire had been the easy part. Finding her way through the locked corridors had been quite another story. But she’d done it. She was nothing if not resourceful. As the fresh air hit her face, her heart raced, knowing they’d be hot on her heels. She stole a glance over her shoulder; the dark figure was quickly approaching. Her breath quickened in fright as she thought through what she’d do next. If she could disappear through one of the myriad courtyard entranceways along the street, she might have a chance. She could open a gate and lock it behind her, she thought. Or perhaps if she ran further, she could find safety within a shop or bar that catered to humans.