Wolf at the Door: Salvation Pack, Book 1 (25 page)

His lips brushed the top of her head. “Sleep, Gwen. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

He was right. Today had been both physically and emotionally draining. Feeling safe and warm in his embrace, Gwen drifted off to sleep, but not before she felt his hand cup one of her breasts and pull her even closer.

Chapter Eighteen

Jacque woke slowly, a sense of wellbeing filling him. Gwen was in his arms and she was willing to stay, at least for now. He didn’t like the qualifier she’d tacked on to the end, but he’d accept it for now. He’d love her so hard and well, she wouldn’t even think of leaving him.

He knew she worried about growing old and, while he understood her concerns, they didn’t bother him at all. He couldn’t imagine ever not loving Gwen. Her smile, her intelligence, the way she stood up to him and challenged him were all a turn on. He loved lying here in bed with her with the moonlight shining in through the window, simply watching her sleep.

If he had one regret, it was that there would be no children. The odds were simply too great given the differences in their biology. He tightened his hold on her, releasing it slightly when she made a grumbling sound. He would have liked a child with her.

He rubbed his chin over her head and listened to the sounds of the night. The cabin was quiet with only the low hum of electricity running through the refrigerator. Louis and the rest of the pack were out patrolling or sleeping. It was still dark outside and Jacque instinctively knew it was at least two hours until dawn.

Gwen squirmed in his arms, turning to face him. He knew from the sudden alertness surrounding her that she was awake.

“What are you thinking about?”

He didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to think about the insurmountable obstacles surrounding them, the least of which was the fact they were from different species. That wouldn’t even matter if they didn’t survive. His father and former pack were out to destroy Gwen and wouldn’t stop until she was dead.

His resolve hardened. He would kill them all first. He’d walked away from his family and the pack he’d been raised in, but they were challenging him, his chosen mate and his pack. He could not allow that kind of threat to stand. He was willing to live and let live, but if they brought the fight to his door he’d slay them all and burn their remains until nothing but ash remained.

“Jacque?” He heard the concern in her voice and knew he’d been staring at her. Gwen was his miracle. He had no idea if she knew just how important she was to him, and because of that how important she was to his pack as a whole.

He combed his fingers through her short blonde hair, wishing it were longer. He loved the feel of the silky strands against his skin. But the short, layered cut suited her better than longer hair would. It gave her a sexy, sassy look that made him want to eat her up.

Her breath was warm and moist against his skin and her feet were no longer cold. Her breasts were pillowed against his chest and his cock was hard against her soft belly.

“Gwen.” He had no other words. Only her name, and that was more than enough.

Her gaze softened and her lips parted. Jacque pressed his lips against hers and rubbed them back and forth. Her breathing hitched and quickened. It was always like this with her. She responded so easily and quickly to him, giving him everything he’d ever wanted and more.

He traced her bottom lip with his tongue, enjoying the way she moaned and squirmed. Her nipples beaded and rubbed against the hair on his chest. He growled low in his throat and kissed the line of her jaw and continued upward until he reached her ear. The tender lobe was a temptation he couldn’t resist, so he caught it between his teeth and tugged gently.

Gwen arched her hips, pressing more firmly against his throbbing erection. “Let me love you,” he whispered in her ear. He traced the delicate whorl with his tongue, struggling to suppress his more animal instincts. He wanted to be gentle, to prove he was worthy of her. Gwen shivered, reached between them and caught his shaft in her hand. It was his turn to shudder as she stroked his cock from the base all the way to the tip and back again.

“Gwen.” He didn’t know what he was about to say and never would. The world intruded with a bang and all the moment was shattered.

Jacque heard the front door slam open. He launched himself out of bed, ready to fight. He could hear Gwen sitting up behind him, the covers rustling as she struggled to understand what was happening.

“We’re under attack,” Louis yelled as he burst into the bedroom. There was a long, jagged scar ripped across his shoulder and he was panting hard. Blood stained his chest but the wound was already knitting closed. “Cole and Gator are on the perimeter and Armand is just outside the house. I don’t know how many there are but I’d say at least a dozen, probably more.”

Louis’s gaze went to the bed and his eyes widened. “Protect her.” With that, Louis turned and rushed back toward the fight.

“Get up,” Jacque ordered. He kept his eyes on the doorway, listening for intruders. He heard fabric rustling behind him and knew Gwen was getting dressed.

Gwen was struggling to get a grip on herself. One minute she and Jacque had been making love. And that’s exactly what it had felt like—making love. There was a depth of emotion in every touch, making it different from any other time. He’d started to say something, something important. She knew that as well as she knew her own name, sensed it with a certainty she couldn’t deny.

Then all hell had broken loose. Louis was gasping for breath when he’d burst into the room. At first she’d thought it was nothing more than an interruption. An attack hadn’t occurred to her. But it should have. How cunning to attack in the dead of the night when they would all be at their most tired and vulnerable.

Gwen was already moving when Jacque ordered her to get up. She grabbed her T-shirt and yanked it over her head. Thankfully, her pajama pants were right next to it and she pulled them on. The guys might be cool with nudity, but no way did she want to face her enemies wearing nothing more than her birthday suit. Not happening.

She grabbed the gun from the nightstand and the heavy weight of it gave her some comfort.

“Shoes. You need shoes, Gwen.”

“Right,” she whispered. She’d kicked off her canvas sneakers earlier and knew they had to be under the bed. She set the gun down, dropped to her knees and felt beneath the bed. It only took her a few seconds to locate them but it felt like hours.

She heard the first howl and it made the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She sat back and pushed her feet into the sneakers, not bothering to unlace them first. She surged to her feet and grabbed her weapon. “I’m ready.”

Her heart was racing like a runaway train, but her hands were surprisingly steady. This was it—life or death. Their fate would be decided tonight. “Go,” she told him. “You need to fight with them. I’ll be okay in here.” At least she prayed she’d be okay. She really had no idea what was going to happen, only that it wasn’t going to be pretty.

Jacque spun around and she took a step back as she got a look at his face, a mask of feral anger with eyes that glowed red. “I will not leave you.”

She reminded herself that Jacque would never hurt her and took the few steps necessary to bring her to his side. She gently touched the side of his face. “You have to. If any of your friends die you’ll never forgive yourself. They’re your family. Your brothers.”

He shook his head. “You’re my heart.”

That organ skipped a beat before racing on. There was a thump from outside and there was no time left to talk. “Go. I’ve got the gun and, believe me, I’ll shoot first and ask questions later.”

Jacque grabbed her arm. “Come with me.” He practically dragged her down the hallway and she hurried to keep up. The sound of the fighting was getting closer and she could hear deadly snarls and howls just outside the cabin walls. She prayed Louis and the others would be safe. In the short time she’d been here she’d grown very fond of all of them.

He yanked open the door to the utility room just off the kitchen. “Stay here.”

She brushed by him and sank to the floor in front of a pantry shelf, using her bent knees to rest the gun on. She wanted to yell at him to stay with her, to not put himself in danger, but knew she couldn’t. He was an alpha, a leader and a fighter. The man she loved wouldn’t cower inside while his friends were being attacked.

“Go,” she urged him. “I’ll be fine.” As much as she wanted to fight by his side, she knew in this fight she’d only be a hindrance. She was no match for a full-blooded male werewolf. The best thing she could do to help the situation was to remove herself from it. Intellectually, she understood that, but a more primal part of her wanted to fight beside her man.

He started to leave, swore and then stalked toward her. He was totally naked and an intimidating sight, but she loved this fierce warrior with every ounce of her heart. He leaned down and planted a quick, hard kiss on her lips. “Be here when I get back.”

She nodded and then he was gone, closing the door behind him. Gwen leaned back against the shelf and took several deep breaths, trying to slow her heartbeat. Her arms and legs were quivering, a result of the adrenaline flooding her system, and that simply wouldn’t do. She needed to be in control, had to be ready to shoot to kill.

She took another breath, released the safety on the gun and rested her hand against her bent knee for support. “Stay safe,” she whispered. Then she settled down to wait.

Jacque was torn as he closed the door to the utility room and headed toward the front of the cabin. He knew Gwen was as safe as he could make her. And he could ensure her safety even further by killing as many of the werewolves attacking them as possible. They were all cold-blooded killers, his father assassins.

Well, he’d been trained by the best of them, and it was time they felt his wrath. He’d always downplayed his abilities when he was around his former pack, not wanting to draw his father’s or uncle’s attention. But those days were over. Now he had something worth protecting—his pack and Gwen.

He went through the door, leaping to the center of the yard. Armand was off to the right, engaging several wolves. Louis was off to the left, fighting two. There was no sign of Cole or Gator, but he could hear more fighting off in the distance. They were sorely outnumbered.

Jacque tilted back his head and let go a howl of anger, of challenge. If the old man was here he wouldn’t be able to resist. But knowing his father, he’d send Andre Dubois to fight him first. Pierre LaForge would step in only when his son was almost dead. Then he’d take the killing blow.

Not. Going. To. Happen.

Jacque was going to protect his pack and his mate with every breath in his body. He threw himself into the change as a wolf he recognized burst from the woods. There were scars on the creature’s neck from their last meeting, but Andre was recovered and, more than that, he wanted revenge.

They slammed together in mid-leap, two huge wolves attacking with teeth bared and death in their eyes. Claws raked Jacque’s sides, but he ignored the pain, inflicting the same damage on his opponent. They fell to the ground, found their footing and circled one another cautiously.

Jacque growled at his nemesis, watching the muscles in Andre’s strong front legs for any hint of which way the wolf would strike next. Andre snarled, saliva dripping from his mouth and a wild look in his eyes. Jacque had always known Andre wasn’t quite right in the head. He enjoyed killing, enjoyed hurting anyone weaker than himself, thinking that made him a stronger man. But Andre was more animal than man and a crazed one at that.

It was time for him to be put down once and for all.

Andre struck hard and fast, charging forward and swerving at the last second. Jacque barely had time to swivel away to avoid his neck being caught between powerful jaws. He wished he’d made sure the bastard was dead the last time. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

He went on the offense, attacking Andre with a swiftness that caught the other wolf off-guard. They rolled on the ground in a bundle of fur and blood, snarls and howls. The fight was short and bloody. Claws raked through his fur and flesh, but he returned the insult twofold. Andre went for his throat, but Jacque managed to twist out of the way and clamp down hard on his opponent’s neck. He dug in his teeth and held on tight.

Andre fought with everything he had, trying to use his strength to flip Jacque onto his back. But Jacque wouldn’t allow it. He was fighting not for the thrill of the kill, but to protect his family and mate. That gave him an edge that Andre would never have, would never understand.

The fight in the older wolf gradually lessened, but Jacque wasn’t taking any chances. He threw himself into the change and shifted to his human form in the blink of an eye. He reached down, grabbed Andre’s neck, locked his strong forearm around it and yanked with every ounce of strength he had. The snap was audible and Andre went limp in his arms.

Jacque swiped his forearm over his eyes to clear the sweat and blood from them. The fighting wasn’t over yet. Not by a longshot. Several more bodies littered the yard, but Louis and Armand were still holding their own.

He shifted again, knowing he needed to be in his wolf form to battle the others. He was strong as a man, but as a wolf he was unstoppable. He howled again and jumped into the fray, knocking a wolf off his brother’s back. The two of them tumbled onto the ground and the fight was on.