Pride's Pursuit (a Wolf's Pride novel, book three) (15 page)

I squish the glorious white sand between my toes, my body completely warm and content as
I blink against the bright sun glistening on the pacific waters. Logan waves to me from the
shore, then leans down to grab the small chubby hand reaching up for him.

Using slow, careful steps they move toward me. As I watch them, my heart gives a little
putter against my chest, and I grab my camera from my bag to take a picture of two of the most
important people in my life.

Water drips from Logan’s
beautiful, athletic body as he tosses the little blonde bundle of
energy over his shoulder. He looks back at me and his smile is warm and tender when I snap the
picture. I twist to put the camera away, and when I open the bag and see the stack of pictures
that have been sitting there in a manila envelope untouched for five long years, I draw a deep
breath, deciding today is the day. It’s time to finally face the past, and keep good on the promise
I once made, one I was never sure I could keep. My shoulders stiffen, and I blow out a long
slow breath as a riot of emotions moves through me.

“
Hey
,” Logan says when he picks up on my anxiety, speaking to me telepathically so the
astute little bundle on his shoulders isn’t privy to my worries. His eyes narrow in concern.
“
Everything okay
?”

I pat the blanket beside me.
“Come sit down,” I say to him. After removing sweet little
Abigail Stone from his shoulders, named after the woman who gave birth to me, and one of the
alphas responsible for my life today, Logan drops down onto the blanket.

The most beautiful two year old in the world settles herself on my lap, and I hand her a
juice box while I dig out the pictures.
Logan smiles at me, and brushes my hair from my shoulders.“You sure?”
I nod.“It’s time.”
“Momma.” Bright blue eyes that remind me of the ocean—remind me of freedom—blink
up at me.
“Look Abby,” I say and show her the picture of me when I wasn’t much older than her.
“Abby,” she says and I smile because, except for having her father’s eyes, the similarities
between mother and daughter are uncanny.
“No, it’s momma,” I correct.
“Momma,” she repeats.
We flip through a few more pictures until I come across one where I’m standing on my
father’s lawn at his California mansion. It was the day we stood outside and scented the
panthers, the same day my father pulled grass from my hair. I think back to that moment and
remember when he walked away, saying he had some last minute things to take care of. This is
what he’d been up to, pulling and printing images from the security camera.
When I consider the rest of the horrible events of that day, I remember what he asked of
me, and all he taught me in the short time we managed to spend together. There was a purpose
to his every action, a reason for his every word. And that purpose was to prepare me.
As my heart races faster, emotions bombard me and I continue to flip through the pile. The
next picture is another one of us standing together. It was only later that day that I knew why he
wanted a photo of us together, united. He wanted to leave me with at least one good memory
before he died.
I think about his death. All the senseless deaths from that day.I’m not proud of the killing I
did. I never wanted to be an assassin. But I had to protect my family, had to let my wolf do what
she needed to. Like my father once told me I would. Like he did for me.
I think about Stone, and what he, too, did for me. I used to feel him watching, but no longer
do. I can only hope he’s found his path and that some girl will love him as much as I do. When I
think about the kind of girl he needs, it brings a smile to my face. I know true love will happen
for him one day and I also know it will be one heck of a roller coaster ride when it does.
Pulling my thoughts back, I point to my father in the picture.“This is your grand-papa.”
As I think about what my father asked of me tears cling to my lashes, and I can feel Logan
inside my head, there to support me.Always there to pick me up when I’ve fallen down.
“Abby,” I begin, then go quiet for a minute, remembering how Logan once told me love
was about forgiveness.“We’ve all made mistakes at one time or another. But he really loved
me. Just like your papa and your mommareally love you.”
“Papa,” she says this time.
I tip her chin until she’s looking up at me. “And your grand-papa would have loved you,
too, Abby.”
Abby points a chubby finger at the picture, and says, “Grandpapa.”
I look past her shoulder and as I stare at the ocean I think back to five years ago when I set
out on a journey to change the world so I could live a normal life. At the time I thought normal
meant going to school, hanging at the mall, wearing fashionable clothes, and suppressing the
primal side of me until each shift night.
I quickly learned that wasn’t my normal, and never would be. My father tried to teach me
that. To prepare me for the world and to warn that if I lose my wolf, I lose the purpose of my
life.
The purpose of a shifter, which is much different from the purpose of a human, is to
survive, to find happiness and to protect our packs in a world that wants us all dead. In order to
do that we must learn from the elders and pass on our knowledge to the youth. My father forgot
his purpose, and before he died he wanted to make sure I knew mine. He followed me back to
California, to confront the PTF, so I could learn those hard truths myself.
What I learned was that mypurpose isn’t about going to school, working alongside humans
while pretending we’re no different. Because the truth is we are different, and while I know
humans will never accept us, I also understand our differences aren’t a bad thing. It’s those
differences that make me who I am today, and thanks to three very important men in my life, I
like the person I’ve become.
I once thought I wanted to be more human than wolf, to let that side of me die and only
come out on shift night. But I was wrong. My father taught me that I can never forget the primal
side of me. He was right.
I can’t allow the human side, or even the wolf side to ever overpower the other. It’s only
when a happy medium is met, when I embrace and accept both sides equally that I can serve my
purpose, and look to my future.
The future of my family.
Logan’s pack knew that. While they went to school, were productive members of society,
and took to the woods on shift nights, they never once forgot who they were. I always thought
they suppressed their primal side in order to become more human, but I was wrong about that. I
was wrong about a lot of things.
But I was right about a lot of things, too.
Logan takes Abby off my lap, and pulls her to him, then he drags me into a three way
embrace. As Abby spills her juice all over us and squirms her way out we both laugh, because
we both know that she’s so much like me and is undoubtedly going to grow up to be a handful.
Logan’s pacific blue eyes meet mine, and my chest clenches so tightly with the love I feel
for him, that I can barely fill my lungs. While I might not have lived the life of a typical
teenager, when I look at my mate, my daughter, and think about all the things we’ve yet to learn,
yet to teach, I know
this
is my normal, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.

Cat Kalen is a multi-published author in the romance genre under two pen names. Cat is a
wife, mom, sister, daughter, and friend. She loves dogs, sunny weather, anything chocolate (she
never says no to a brownie) pizza and watermelon. She has two teenagers who keep her busy
with their never ending activities, and a husband who is convinced he can turn her into a mixed
martial arts fan. Cat can never find balance in her life, is always trying to find time to go to the
gym, can never keep up with emails, Facebook or Twitter and tries to write page-turning books
that her readers will love.

Twitter:@catkalen
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https://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=100002600082432
Blog:
http://www.catkalen.com/blog/

I pull my hood up against the bite in the spring air and survey the dark, city streets I now
call home. As I move toward a crooked lamppost, its glass shattered from a well aimed rock, a
loud noise punctures the night and rings in my ears. The ground rumbles angrily beneath my
feet, the pavement twisting and knotting as a savage earthquake ripples along the Pacific coast.

Bracing myself, I stay still for a long moment, until my body stops shaking and the world
around me returns to normal. When I glance up, an unnatural movement in the inky shadows
gains my attention and has unease scraping down my spine.

My heart picks up tempo and alarm bells jangle because I know there is nothing normal
about the shifting shadows, nothing normal about the soulless predator stalking the city
sidewalks in search of innocent prey.

Deep inside my wolf crouches low.
He’s edgy, ready to battle, but I temporarily sedate the
alpha and move deeper into the darkness. In an effort to stay downwind, I weave around a
parked car and step over a metal sewer grate. The stink rising up from the gutter stings my
sensitive nose and pulls a reaction from my agitated wolf.

As the fetid odor assaults my senses I pick up my pace and turn down a dead end alleyway.
That’s when I get a whiff of fresh blood. It calls out to my wolf in dangerous ways and while I
know I should get as far away from it as possible, I also know there is little I can do to escape
the coppery tang polluting the air, considering most often I’m the one who’s put it there.

I walk quietly, my tattered military boots silenced by the street noises behind me as well as
the hum of innocent humans, ones I vowed to protect. The rowdy crowd laughs as they hurry to
meet their friends, oblivious to what plays in the shadows...waiting...just waiting for a taste of
their rich, metallic blood.

I look up and watch the rainstorm push east. The clouds part to reveal the night sky and I
glance at the stars overheard.But it’s not the stars I’m interested in tonight. Oh no, not at all.
Drawn by a force only my wolf can identify, my attention goes to the near full moon. As I
think about what else I can’t run away from a low howl climbs out of my throat and serrates the
night. I clench down on my teeth to stifle the tortured sound but this time there is nothing I can
do to keep my animal side at bay, nothing I can do to stop my joints from twisting, my lips from
peeling back to expose sharp canines.
While I know I can’t hide from the lunar pull any more than I can outrun the stink polluting
the air, I’m fully aware that I still have five days until I have to answer that fateful call. Five
short days until I become the very thing I hunt.
I give a hard, mental shake of my head to get my wolf under control.I can’t think about the
moon when there is a wild wolf on the hunt and it’s my job to stop him.
I drag my thoughts back to the present and pull the city scents into my lungs. As I decipher
the smells, I search for the one that is trying to hide from me in this grimy alleyway.
I peer out from under my cotton hood and move toward a Dumpster. The soles on my worn
out boots squish beneath me and give away my coordinates when I sidestep a deep puddle.
Cursing under my breath for losing the advantage of surprise I bite back a growl and hurry
to the far end of the alleyway. I need to get myself into a defensive position before my opponent
comes out of hiding.
My footsteps still when the scent of wet dog hits like a slap to the face. As my wolf slips
into kill or be killed mode, I don’t make a sound. Instead, instincts force me to memorize my
surroundings and look for possible threats and alternative escape routes. Not that Ithink I’ll
need one.
In this dead end alley, with the only exit at my back, I inch toward the Dumpster.That’s
when my opponent has no choice but to step into full view and try to gain control of the
situation before I gain control over him.
I work to quiet my heartbeat and take a quick moment to size up my enemy. From the
predatory way he carries himself to the deep scars and hard angles of his face I’d know I’m up
against an experienced killer.
I might be an alpha, with at least three inches and twenty pounds over this guy, but he has a
good ten years on me, which means that if I make one wrong move it could mean the difference
between life and death.I also can’t forget the fact that he’s managed to operate under the radar
and evade the Paranormal Task Force—officers who hunt all things that go bump in the night.
My pulse pounds erratically in my throat while I watch him size me up in return, and then
in a false show of submission, he jams his hands into his pockets and rocks back and forth on
his feet.
Even though this hardened killer knows I’m an alpha, and that I’m stronger and faster than
him, at nineteen years old I’m still considered a boy in a species that lives to be centuries old.
His smile is slow, charming, meant to put me at ease. But I know better than to
underestimate this rebel wolf. Just like he knows better than to misjudge me.
His smile is casual, but I’ve been doing this job long enough to know he’s trying to gain my
trust. Since I trust no one, his wolf would have a better chance at resisting the call of the moon
on shift night than convincing me to drop my guard.It’s not going to happen.
“So I guess you’re the one they call Stone,” he says, his voice low, almost hypnotic,
reminding me how skilled these rogues are at luring innocent humans into their dens.
I don’t say anything. I just glare at the soulless predator looking for a weakness in me, and
when he takes a small step toward me, I take one toward him.
He grins and when he realizes he’s unable to intimidate me, he changes tactics in an attempt
to bring me into his confidence.
“It doesn’t have to be this way, you know.”
I angle my head.“And what way is that?” I ask and loosen the tether restraining my wolf as
the scent of my opponent’s fear crawls under my skin and taunts my primal side.
He gives a casual shrug, but underneath that relaxed disguise I can taste his tension. It taints
the air and makes the Dumpster beside us smell more like a day at the carnival than a bin full of
decomposing trash.
“You don’t have to fight this, Stone.” He waves his hand toward the street behind me.“You
can be one of us, and feast anytime you want.” He pauses for a moment, his glance moving over
my face, assessing me and I wonder if he can sense how close to the edge I really am.“Come
on,” he prods. “You know you want to.”
My glance goes to the fresh drops of blood staining his clothes. It provokes my wolf and
hunger claws at me, urging me to give in to the darkness hovering on the outer edges of my
soul, just waiting to overtake me.
Easy Stone, easy.You’re stronger than this.
I zero in on his jugular and know it’s time to get control over this situation before I do
something I’ll only regret later.
“What you’re doing is wrong,” I bite out.
I take another small step toward him and as his fear washes over me, he edges away, putting
a measure of distance between us. But not even the distance can mask his nervousness or the hot
bite of sweat on his skin.
“Come on, it’s not so bad.” He gives an easy roll of one shoulder.“Consider it population
control.”
I hold my ground as he tries to worm his way out of the situation. But everything in his
stance tells me he understands his fate, and that he’ll do whatever it takes to stay alive.
My wolf howls low and paces restlessly, itching to kill the rebel who is beyond
rehabilitation.When my opponent realizes I’m not about to soften, he changes tactics once
again.He glares at me long and hard and doesn’t try to hide the hatred creeping over his
features. He gives a wild shake of his head and when his gums tighten I don’t miss the way his
muzzle contorts, his wolf trying to punch his way free.
He angles his body for battle and looks past my shoulders, but we both know there is no
way he’s getting by me tonight.
“And you somehow think what you’re doing is right,” he challenges, his tone deep,
guttural.
My glance clashes with his, dark torment eating me up inside as I consider his words. The
truth is I’ve been away from my pack for so long now that the bond to my kind is weakening,
making it harder andharder for me to remember why I’m doing this. Harder and harder to fight
off the darkness threatening to consume me.
I fist my hands and clench my teeth until my jaw aches.“You shouldn’t kill innocent
humans,” I say, and brace myself as I prepare to release my wolf.
“You think killing your own kind is any different?” The rebel wolf keeps his eyes trained
on me and a disgusted sound gurgles in his throat when he adds, “You’re just a stupid kid. You
haven’t even been around long enough to know what’s right or wrong.” He shakes his head.
“You’re no better than any of us.”
My stomach tightens and darkness torments me when I think about all the savage wolves
I’ve eliminated, all the blood I have on my hands. While I know what I’m doing isn’t exactly
right, I know it’s not wrong either.
I swallow against the thickness in my throat and say, “The difference is you’re not
innocent.” I jerk my head backwards.“They are.”
He smiles at me, but this time it holds no warmth.“Innocent?” he asks, arching one taunting
brow, and when I see the cold calculation in his eyes, my wolf howls because everything in the
way he’s looking at me tells me he knows. He knows my past. Knows how scarred I am.
“Here I thought you’d be the last wolf who’d want to protect a human. After all, didn’t one
keep you caged your whole life?”
He pauses and waits for me to answer, but there is nothing to say, because when it comes
right down to it, he’s right. I’ve been caged my whole life. Caged. Abused. Beaten to within an
inch of my life. And even though the cruel man who once controlled me has long been
terminated, he still continues to haunt my nightmares.
When silence hovers like deadly silver he adds, “You should be thanking me for what I do.”
As his words pound through my head, my pulse beats harder in my throat and I think about
all the years I was imprisoned. My hand goes to my neck, to trace the thick bulging scar running
along my jaw.But that raw, angry mark is nothing compared to the scars that aren’t visible.
I think about all those who died at the compound and a volatile wave of rage has me
staggering backward. Once again the darkness is right there, pulling at me, threatening to devour
me and draw me into a place that reeks of death and destruction.
“Come on, Stone, join us,” he says, his feral eyes drill into me. He opens his arms wide, and
I watch the way his face changes, the way his cruel lips twist in triumph.“Join our pack. It’s not
natural for an alpha to be out here all alone.”
I close my eyes as emptiness settles like a chaotic lump in the pit of my stomach. My world
tilts on its axis when I think about the pack I walked away from—one girl in particular.That’s
when I recall the vow I made to protect and shelter the brave young wolf who helped free us all
from captivity, the same wolf who was once destined to be my mate. I might not always
remember why I’m fighting, but I do remember the promise I made to her.
As that last thought pushes back the darkness invading my body, my control snaps like a
frayed leash. I tear off my clothes, drop to the ground and welcome the painful change. My
joints pop and slide into place and I stifle a loud, tortured moan as my muzzle punches through
my mouth. I brace my hands on the ground, and listen to the crunch of my vertebra popping and
reforming. Dark fur sprouts from my flesh and in no time at all my human groan turns into a
dark, animal howl.
The rebel before me tears his clothes from his body and shifts to a powerful, streamlined
wolf.An instant before I’m about to go for his jugular, a sharp voice sounds from behind my
enemy and cuts through the alleyway like a jagged knife.
“Don’t!”
I steal a glance over my opponent’s shoulder and a shudder moves through me when I spot
a pair of dark eyes staring back—dark, amber eyes that hold both fear and sadness.
Our gazes clash for a brief second and the white glowing dress she’s wearing flutters in the
wind as she turns, like she’s ready to run. But then a gasp rips from her lungs and something
that resembles recognition flickers in her eyes.
I drag in a sharp breath and everything inside me freezes. I suddenly have the strangest
sensation that not only is she looking at me, that she can see things in me others can’t.
Shadows dance on the walls beside me and when a flowery scent fills the air I feel
something deep and heavy in my gut. A low, almost unrecognizable growl fills the alleyway and
I’m surprised to find it’s mine.
Haunted eyes scan my face, probing, searching, but for what I don’t know. I can’t seem to
look away.I can’t seem to think.Everything around me goes fuzzy, my opponent’s growl fading
to distant buzz.Feeling like I’ve been sucker punched, air hisses from my lungs, and that brief
moment of inattention gives my enemy the upper hand.
He advances quickly and I catch a hard paw to the muzzle. It sends me hurtling backwards
and I can barely comprehend how quickly things are falling apart. I skid across the pavement,
the unforgiving asphalt peeling the fur and flesh from my body. My long talons dig into the
ground, trying to gain purchase, but I continue to slide until the brick wall at my back stops the
momentum.
I hit with a hard thud and glance at the streak of red coloring the ground. A loud howl
echoes in the alleyway as the warm scent of my blood rouses my opponent’s hunger. I climb to
my feet and work to shake the buzz from my head.
I go back on my hind legs, but before I can get myself together and go for the rebel’s throat,
he tucks tail and runs into the street, swallowed by the darkness of the night.
I watch him go and my wolf wails, because he knows we made a rookie mistake, one I
never should have let happen. I shake my head, hating any kind of failure, especially in myself. I
should have been smarter than to allow a girl to distract me.
But I’ve never seen eyes quite like hers before. Never felt like someone was able to see into
the depths of my soul and see how damaged I really am.
Feeling disturbed as the girl’s sharp voice continues to echo in my head, an icy shiver
moves through me. I spin around and scour the alleyway in search of her, only to find mist
hovering in the spot where she’d once been standing.
Without taking my eyes off the haze, I quickly shift back to my human form, and pull on
my heavy clothes. Then I move toward the droplets shimmering in the air. I reach my hand out,
and when the mist washes over me, my breath leaves my lungs in a rush.
With my knees locked and my feet anchored in place, my instincts urge me to move, to do
something.But instead I stay like that for a long time, because I’m not sure I can move even if I
want to. After a long moment, the mist passes through me and disappears into the street at my
back.
I stand there, stunned, and work to find my breath. Struggling to get my head around what
just happened here, I glance up and down the alleyway. I take a moment to scent the air for
traces of the girl’s flowery perfume before I step out onto the sidewalk. But when my glance
comes up empty, with no lingering fragrance to be found, I rake shaky hands through my hair
and wonder if I’ve been hunting the dangerous streets for too long. Maybe a wolf really does
need to be with its pack, and maybe the light haired girl is simply a figment of my imagination.
I pull my hood up to hide my features as I move away from the dark alleyway, but I can’t
shake the uneasy feeling clawing at my gut.
I glance back over my shoulder. I can feel a new kind darkness stalking me. As a strange
sort of panic races through my bloodstream I turn away and walk faster, but the darkness seems
to be crawling along the dirty streets after me.Except it’s not like any darkness I’ve ever felt
before. It feels bitter, demonic, slithering through the city streets like a poisonous snake,
spreading and weaving its way deeper and deeper into the dark night.