Silver Wolf Clan (14 page)

“I need a beer,” Grey said.

“I’ll do you one better.” Dean grabbed a bottle of Makers Mark and three glasses from behind a few logo and font books on one of the shelves.

“You hiding that from your boozehound wife?” Wade deadpanned as he poured the shots.

Dean flipped him off and turned to Grey. “He knows she would never touch the stuff. I hide it for when Marissa brings friends over in the future. I remember myself at that age. If there was whiskey sitting out, Wade and I would get into it and start trouble.”

Grey needed a momentary escape from the cache of information they’d stumbled upon and the quiet, scar-faced wolf’s story was as good a distraction as any. “So you two grew up together?”

“Believe it or not, Wade is my little brother,” Dean said laughing at the man with the six-foot-two frame towering over his own five-foot-eleven height. “Or I guess I should say, younger brother.”

“How’d that happen?” Grey asked. “I thought you said werewolf wasn’t normally genetic.”

“No, but dumbass is. I was bitten when I was hanging out with the wrong crowd in my younger days. I thought I knew what I was getting myself into. Wade didn’t want me to go through it alone, so he asked me to bite him too. Bet you regret that one, don’t you?”

Wade took his shot neatly and nodded.

Grey downed the burning liquid then grimaced. “The whole, vampires killing the rest of Morgan’s ancestors off in the first place—that scares me. Are vampires real? I mean, are they around enough to be a threat?”

“They exist, or so I’ve been told. I’ve never met one myself,” Dean admitted. “I agree with you. I don’t want any present-day vampires to find out about her existence either. I don’t know how long their memory stretches. Hell, there’re probably still vampires around today who lived during the silver wolf clan’s time. There’s also the question of if we even want to tell other packs.” He arched his eyebrows. “Morgan’s rare. She’ll be coveted, and there’ll be fights for her, especially when you haven’t claimed her yet. Even after you do, you’ll be challenged for her, I’m afraid. If she turns out to be a breeder, I think all hell would break loose and she’d need protection. Thank goodness you’re a Ripper, but even so, you can’t fight them all off alone.”

“What about Lana? Wade asked quietly.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.

“I mean, how long is it going to take for someone else to figure out she has silver wolf genetics if Morgan does? Even if she isn’t her biological daughter, Lana’s blood related. A little female silver wolf pup? It won’t take long for wolves to wonder when she’ll be Turned and who she’ll be promised to. Sorry, Grey.”

Grey’s heart dropped right through his diaphragm. Lana. There was a possibility she’d be a silver wolf too. So much danger, and it was entirely his fault. They shouldn’t be there. No one ever should’ve figured out they had silver wolf blood because Morgan wasn’t supposed to have been Turned. She and her little girl were in real and imminent danger because of his decision to let them into this life.

“I’ll kill anyone who pressures her to turn,” Wolf snarled. He would protect them, no matter what. “I’ll kill anyone who threatens them. They’re mine.”

Dean was quiet and nodded thoughtfully. “I know you will, Grey. No one was more suited to this task than you. You were created to protect them. I knew a wolf like you was meant for something. Huge, dominant, focused, driven, protective. You are their best chance of staying safe. I’d like to talk to everyone at the pack meeting. If we all agree, I’d like to offer your family our protection as well. I know we can’t ever officially be in the same pack. Too many chiefs, as they say,” he said with a slow smile. “But I don’t know why our packs couldn’t support each other. It’s never been done before as far as I know, two packs working so closely together, but there are benefits for both parties, I think. Morgan and Lana? They mean a lot to us and could also benefit from our protection and friendship, especially if it would help to keep them safe.”

The idea rankled Wolf that he alone wouldn’t be able to protect them, but Dean had just offered him a plan B. He’d die to protect them if he needed to, but they needed someplace safe to land if anything ever happened to him. “I’d like to try an alliance if your pack agrees.”

Tension between the other dominant wolves in the room thrummed as their human sides did their best to ignore it and get along. The decision to tether themselves to each other wasn’t taken lightly, but wolves were loyal creatures, sometimes to a fault, and Morgan and Lana had already edged their way to the pack table and into their hearts. She and the child would need every one of them if they were to survive.

It seemed as though the unlikely band of werewolves was determined to make history twice in one day.

Morgan’s thirst was quenched but her stomach rumbled loudly. She was starving. The day had been nearly eternal and she was still recovering from something she couldn’t quite remember or understand.

The door creaked open and Scar Face appeared, nodded once to her as he stepped aside. A huge black wolf followed. He would tower over her if she were willing to get close enough to the edge of the cage to size him up. He had a deep chest and his winter coat was thick with ebony black fur, which only added size to him. His eyes gleamed gold, the color pronounced even more surrounded by fur with no color variation in it at all. Only pitch black. He hesitated at the door, and she immediately got a whiff of something delicious.

He stepped in, and Scar Face shut the door behind him. The black wolf walked slowly, as if he tried not to scare her, but she couldn’t take her eyes from the limp rabbit he carried in his mouth. He came closer to the cage and she looked into those familiar golden eyes. He was beautiful.

He dropped the rabbit and nudged it through the bars with his nose, stepped back, sat and waited. Her nails clicked on the cement floor as she moved forward. She gingerly picked up the rabbit, never taking her eyes from the wolf, and took it to the back of the cage, where she ripped fur off its belly.

The she-wolf in the other cage whined. Faster than she’d even thought possible, the black wolf was at the front of her bars with his head down, teeth bared, low growls and menace emanating from him. The she-wolf cowered, slunk back to the far corner, as far from both of them as she could get. Raw waves of power rolled off him. An alpha.

Morgan cowered, but not out of fear. She would be well beneath him in a pack and it would benefit her to show him she understood her rank.

He didn’t treat her the way he treated the other she-wolf. He was kind. He’d brought her a rabbit. After the last piece of meat slid down her throat and she was satisfied, Morgan looked around for something to rub her face on to clean it. The black wolf lay near the cage with his head on his paws and let out a quiet whine. She looked at him and cocked her head. Slowly, she approached him, put her nose between the bottom bars as she lay down. She was scared. Powerful and capable of great violence, he could rip her face off before she could get away if he were so inclined, but there was no question that his body language was an invitation.

The black wolf slid on his belly, slowly, closer and closer to where she lay. She shook as he approached. A whine escaped and betrayed her. She looked into those amber eyes and saw nothing but worry. He closed the rest of the gap and slowly licked her muzzle. She held perfectly still, waiting for him to finish cleaning. Eventually, she relaxed into his warmth. After he’d finished, he sighed loudly and lay on his side, nose close to hers. They drifted off. Almost, but not quite, touching.

* * * *

Morgan jerked awake at the sound of the door opening. The black wolf sat up and watched the quiet man, who approached with a bundle in his hands.

“It’s time,” was all the man said.

The black wolf loped toward the door, hesitating only long enough to look back once before he disappeared.

The quiet man nodded to Morgan, and she backed up, emitting a short low growl. At the other wolf’s cage, he threw the bundle at her and demanded, “Change. You have ten minutes and then I’m coming back for you.”

His tone invited no argument, and even if Morgan didn’t completely understand, she knew the she-wolf better do as he asked.

After he left, the she-wolf paced frantically, glancing at her and away, then back again. Her whining grated on Morgan’s nerves. The she-wolf tried to block herself off from view but the small bed didn’t provide enough cover. There was nowhere to hide. The brown wolf lay down and shook, as if she were waiting for something to happen. What was she doing?

The wolf’s muscles convulsed and her head snapped to the side as she started, and failed, to stand. Her legs lengthened and bent at odd angles. A strangled groan came from the wolf’s throat. The monstrous sight was terrifying. Whatever happened wasn’t natural. It was an excruciating death Morgan couldn’t peel her eyes away from. Dark fur disappeared, giving a glimpse of muscle, tendon, and sinew for a split second before it was covered completely by seemingly hairless skin. Long blond hair grew from the creature’s head and her muzzle slowly retracted, leaving a human face in its wake. Her growls and whines of pain gave way to a soft human groan.

The girl lay there, shaking. She tried to get up and reach for the bundle, but collapsed. Tears streaked down her cheeks in jagged channels. She rested again and crawled to the bundle and untied it. Clothes. The man had brought clothes to cover her new, raw, human body. Morgan would feel naked too if she were covered in hairless, vulnerable skin.

The girl finished dressing and the man returned to unlock her door.

“Pack meeting. Everyone’s already here,” he snapped, grabbing the girl’s arm to steady her.

Baffled, Morgan watched them leave, whining. The girl was a wolf. She’d smelled her, seen her, knew without a doubt she was an animal. But she’d turned into a human woman. The girl’s scent was different as she passed the cage. Still familiar, but definitely more human. Walking upright made her almost recognizable, but Morgan’s mind skittered away from trying to force a connection.

She wasn’t ready yet.

* * * *

Most days, Dean loved being an alpha. Leading a pack was what his wolf had been born to do. Sometimes on days like this one, though, he’d trade it all for normal human problems again. His decision on Alexis’s fate would haunt his pack either way, and their feelings about the justness of her punishment for the next months, years even, rested squarely on his shoulders.

The pack was normally so raucous it was hard to get a word in. Not tonight, though. Alexis’s future hung in the balance. Dean listened patiently to each member’s take on the situation, but in the end, alpha’s judgment was law. He couldn’t kill her for turning man-eater, but he couldn’t keep her either.

As he led Alexis into the dining room, everyone nodded a greeting and waited for the verdict. Only Brandon’s gaze lingered on her, worried and wistful.

Dean sat at the head of the table and got right to the point. “Alexis, do you deny you Turned Morgan without her permission?”

“I don’t deny Turning her, but it wasn’t my intention to do so. Obviously.”

Her remorselessness fueled an endless and inescapable rage. “So you turned a wolf you have no intention of mentoring, and your defense is you meant to kill her instead?” he yelled. “For what, Alexis? Because you were jealous? Because you didn’t like her? You were going to kill her, kill the guardian of that little baby, and for what? To hurt Grey because you didn’t get what you wanted?” Dean stood and leaned his clenched knuckles against the cool wood of the tabletop. He glared until she looked at her hands neatly folded in her lap. “You are to be transferred.”

“No, you can’t do that,” Alexis pleaded.

“Let me finish! You’ll be transferred to the Denver pack. Jonathan Reeves is a good alpha, and he’ll treat you fairly.”

“But it is cold in Denver! You know I hate the cold. Are there any other females in that pack?” she asked.

“No,” Dean said. “I tried, but apparently there’s a shortage of packs that accept members who’ve recently tried to turn man-eater. Jonathan has taken in troubled wolves before and has agreed to do so again as a personal favor to me.”

“Troubled? You think I’m troubled? You made me like this and now you are casting me off like I’m unimportant to this pack. I’m an available female, and you’re lucky I chose to stay here. All so you can defend that whore. She took what was mine, embarrassed me in front of the entire pack and everyone laughed at her like she was this new little pet. She’s a fucking human!” Loathing and disdain seeped into every word. “You chose a human over your own pack member.”

“She isn’t human anymore, no thanks to you. And now she and her child are in danger, because you let jealousy lead you to this. I didn’t make you what you are, Alexis. I turned a dying girl I didn’t know into a wolf to save her. The person you are today? That’s all because of the choices you’ve made. That’s not the wolf in you, it’s just you. You have dishonored the pack with your actions, and you have dishonored me. A taxi will be at your place in an hour to take you to the airport. Wade will accompany you to Denver, and you’ll not be allowed to visit Dallas pack property until after Summit. Is that clear?”

She stared defiantly at him, tears threatening to spill from her full eyes. She wiped them hastily, nodded once and left the house, slamming the front door behind her. Wade said his good-byes and followed her out. The pack remained in their seats, shocked into stillness.

A pack member transfer rarely happened. Every member was important because there weren’t many werewolves in existence. A pack’s strength lay with its numbers, and Dallas had been lucky with three females. Now, so suddenly, they were down to two.

Rachel brushed his back with her hand but he shrugged it off. He didn’t deserve the comfort. Alphas were faced with the difficult decisions, but this? The breaking bond between him and a pack member was like the lash of a whip, and he gritted his teeth against the pain.