The Werewolf’s Bride: The Pack Rules #1 (12 page)

Grey squeezed me, either in comfort or in an effort to keep from asking questions. I pressed my lips together and swallowed the knot lodged in my throat.

“How do you know what your father’s doing?”

“We have an insider,” she said. “My father killed Murdock because the man was about to betray him—to you. Between the time the elder and I had exited the tunnel and Belle entered it, he’d cut the man’s throat and disappeared through one of the offshoot tunnels.”

Wrong place. Wrong time.
I really did have a knack for it.

“And you trust this insider?” asked Grey.

“Murdock’s younger brother, Chris. His brother had come to him before the Choosing, told him what was going on and what he planned to do. Chris is a new enforcer trainee—and hadn’t been part of the conspiracy. Once Kelt made his move, Chris pretended to follow Kelt so he could keep tabs for me.”

“Why aren’t you with your father?” I asked.

“Because what he’s doing is wrong. He tried to get me to join up, but I refused and then bolted.” Neela’s eyes were pure fury. “He doesn’t care about the pack. About his family. About me. He’s selfish and cold-hearted. He needs to be put down like the dog he is!”

“Neela.” Mac reached out and touched her shoulder, but she shrugged off his hand.

A ringing sound filling the cavern, and Neela dug into her back pocket and pulled out a slim cell phone. “Yeah?” She listened for a moment and then ended the call, tucking the phone away. “That was Chris. My father’s at the library taking a personal approach to torturing the human prisoners. He’s trying to find out where the others are hiding.”

W
E HUDDLED
BEHIND
the small home of poor old Mr. Sanders. In less than three days, I had come full circle. I stood right in the place where my life had changed forever—and might well be the very place where it ended.

Neela and Mac were in werewolf form. Grey remained human and I—well, I only had the one option. Light spilled out from the building’s anterior though the backside remained in relative darkness. Chris had told Neela that Kelt planned to drag three humans out at time from their basement confinement onto the library’s xeriscaped front gardens. He wanted one person to torture and two to watch the inhumane treatment—the goal, of course, was to get someone to talk.

From our vantage point at the corner of the tiny house, we saw that the rear of the library only had two sentries.

They prowled back and forth, sniffing at the air, and would no doubt soon catch our scent.

A scream split the air—an ax of utter pain chopping right through me.

My stomach clenched, and I pressed a hand over my mouth to keep from giving voice to my anguish. I knew nearly every soul in this town. I couldn’t imagine one being tormented by the pack who was supposed to protect us.

Grey nodded toward the wolves.

Neela and Mac took off, straight at them. Snarling, barking, and snapping ensued. While they fought each other, Grey and I took off for the library.

The plan was simple. While Chris and I rescued the Bleed City citizens from their imprisonment, Grey would go after Kelt. Pack law dictated that two alphas vying to lead the pack would be left alone to battle it out.

Since those who followed Kelt didn’t seem to give a damn about the pack, much less its laws, I had little faith that they would step aside and allow a fair fight.

Grey felt strongly that pack law would be honored if he challenged Kelt outright in front of the werewolves.

I had to trust his instincts.

But still, I worried. Though we’d been together for mere days, it felt like so much longer. Grey putting himself in peril tore at me. As Grey took off to confront his enemy, my hatred for Kelt grew a hundredfold.
Please, dear Lord, protect him. Keep my alpha safe.

I entered the library. A leanly muscled boy, no more than eighteen or nineteen years old, appeared from the shadowy confines of what appeared to be a storage room.

“Arabelle?”

“Belle. And you’re Chris.”

He nodded. “The stairs are over there. I’m the guard at the top. We’ve got two enforcers below. Five are out front with Kelt. A least a dozen were left at the compound to keep order—and another half dozen or so are combing the town for the other citizens and for Grey.”

“So many,” I whispered.

Chris grimaced. “Sucks, I know.” He gestured for me to follow and turned, leading me to the staircase. “Go ahead of me, like I caught you.” He gaze flicked to the sword I still wore strapped to my back. Colt’s weapon had become my talisman. “Can you use that thing?”

“Yes,” I lied. I started down the dimly lit concrete steps, Chris right behind me.

“What’s going on?” The gravelly voice came from a scar-faced man who was the roughly the size and shape of a boulder. His gray-streaked locks, including his beard, sported many tiny braids. “Who’s she?”

“Arabelle Burke,” said Chris. He unsheathed my sword, as though to take it from me. “I caught her sneaking in to the library.”

“Where’s your husband?”

I glared at him. The man laughed. His compatriot was smaller, but not by much. He, too, had long hair, but wore his in a ponytail.

Behind them cowered more than two dozen Bleed City residents. Men. Women. Children. They huddled against the wall, protecting each other, their wrists bound with plastic ties. Their feet remained unbound, but what idiot human would dare go against a werewolf?

Well, I would, of course.

Rage exploded, flowing through me like fear-melting lava. I grabbed the sword out of Chris’s hands and used it like a baseball bat, thwacking Braid Man across the abdomen.

He looked at me, shocked. His shirt gapped open and revealed a thin line of red across his tanned flesh.

While Chris handled the other guard, I took advantage of my opponent’s hesitation and rammed the sword into his stomach. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the strength to carve out his innards, but the blade sank into his flesh a good couple of inches.

I pulled out the sword—which took a great deal of wrenching—and went in for another blow.

He reared back, his face a mask of pain and fury. He snarled at me and reached for Colt’s sword.

What he couldn’t know was three male prisoners were running at him. Before he could take one more menacing step toward me, the men barreled into his massive backside. I twirled away, sword still clutched in my hands, as the giant crashed to the ground.

He rapped his head hard on the concrete floor, offered one fearsome groan, and went still.

The guard scuffling with Chris made the mistake of looking at his downed compatriot. A right hook to the jaw snapped his head back and he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

“Let’s get them tied up. Is there a place we can put them?” I said.

“There’s a janitor’s closet down here,” said Chris. “We can lock them inside.”

I offered my sword to him. “Let’s free them.”

Chris smiled. He dug into his back pocket and pulled out a jackknife. “This might be more practical.” He began removing the ties from everyone’s bound wrists.

“It safer for you all to stay down here,” I said to the crowd. “As soon as Grey deals with Kelt, I’ll send someone to get you.”

“Belle!”

I turned at the sound of the familiar voice and saw my former boss, Charlie, stride across the room. He was in late ‘50s and was long-time friends with my father. He hadn’t had any girls, so he’d never needed to worry about sending a daughter to the Choosing. But he was a kind man with a gentle wife and two grown sons who’d joined the Army.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To join my husband.”

“It’s not any safer for you out there,” he said, concerned. “You’re better off in here with us.”

“I’m the alpha’s mate. I stand with him.”

Charlie grasped my shoulder. “What happens to us if Grey doesn’t win?”

“He will win,” I said. “So that question is pointless.” I shrugged out of his grip and hurried up the stairs.

I
RAN THROUGH
the library
, dodging carts and books and turned over shelves. Kelt’s werewolves had been destructive, completely inconsiderate of the town and its possessions. Such actions told me Bleed City was in for a world of hurt with Kelt as the Shadow Pack alpha.

He will never be alpha,
I assured myself.

I wanted to barrel outside and make sure Grey was still alive, but I managed to calm myself enough to slow down and stop at one of the floor-to-ceiling windows near the entrance. I leaned the sword against the wall and peeked out the glass pane.

A group of werewolves in both human and wolf forms stood on one side of the library’s rock-strewn garden. On the other side were two men taking swings at each other.

Grey and Kelt.

My husband was leanly muscled and fast. He ducked, punched, whirled away. Kelt was clumsier—perhaps because he was heavier, older, or maybe just exhausted. He’d had a busy day of being a complete and utter asshole.

If Kelt’s battered face was any indication, Grey was winning. Hope trilled in my heart. How soon would this be over? Did alphas fight to the death or just until one knocked the other out?

I didn’t know.

Movement caught my eye and I tracked it to a blue flutter near an oversized cactus plant. A blonde head poked up—and I immediately recognized Cacie Lynn.

She held a gun.

Her arms were steady. Her gaze locked onto Grey. She was waiting for the perfect shot. Once her own lover moved out of the way, she would kill my husband.

I grabbed my sword. I couldn’t bust out there because my sudden presence might distract Grey enough to get shot.

I flew across the library, to the far right side. There was a side entrance, one I only knew about because as a little girl I liked “sneaking” into the library. Carolyn and I pretended to be spies who needed to find our enemy’s secrets—which were usually tucked into the books we checked out.

Mr. Sanders had started locking the entrance after one too many teenagers used it to sneak inside and put their overdue books onto the shelves without paying the fines. What can I say? Bleed City bred more than its fair share of book nerds. Ruffian behavior in children or adults was unusual. A run-in with a Shadow Pack enforcer curbed any of those tendencies.

I unlocked the metal door and eased out. My heart pounded so hard it pulsed in my throat and banged in my eardrums. I could only think about stopping Cacie Lynn before she had a chance to use that gun.

Neela’s boots were loose on my feet, but I’d gotten used to their weight. I reached the edge of the building, my gaze seeking out Cacie Lynn. She was still huddled behind the cactus, her gun aimed at the fighting men, waiting for the opportune moment to kill Grey.

I only had seconds.

I rushed across the garden, coming up behind Cacie Lynn. She heard me, of course, as did everyone else in the area. But my focus was on the blonde betrayer who’d been part of this whole mess from the start.

Cacie Lynn’s expression was one of pure hatred, her sweet face only a façade for her true nature.

She whipped her arms up and the gun went off, but I whacked her on top of the head with the flat side of the blade. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped over.

“Arabelle!”

Grey’s voice sounded far away. Further than it should have. I walked toward him, him and Kelt who both stared at me strangely. I guess there wasn’t such a thing as time-out in a werewolf fight because I watched Kelt bunch up his fist and aim it at Grey’s head.

I don’t know how I reached them before he landed that punch, but I did and I kicked Kelt in the shins with my steel-toed boot. He went down yowling. Then I raised the blade and brought it down.

The sword missed his skull, but sliced through his long, brown ponytail. He screamed like I’d actually stabbed him. I don’t think I really meant to decapitate Kelt, but I was getting sick and tired of him hurting people I loved.

“Does cutting off werewolf hair hurt?” I asked Grey, befuddled by Kelt’s odd reaction. The man was grabbing at the hair now scattered across the ground like it was strands of gold.

“Shadows wear their hair long as a sign of strength. Getting it cut off by an enemy is the ultimate insult.”

Good. I hoped Kelt choked on his defeat.

I felt suddenly, unaccountably tired. I was sweating, too, particularly on my left side. I slid my hand down my T-shirt, frowning when it came away red. “How very strange,” I said. The words tripped over my tongue.

“Sweetheart.” Grey scooped me into his arms. “You’ve been shot.”

“Oh.” I looked at him, but blackness edged my vision and his face went all blurry.

As Grey turned to walk away, Kelt snarled and bounded to his feet. I opened my mouth to shout at Grey, but before I could utter a warning, a coffee-brown werewolf appeared like a wraith. Neela. She grabbed Kelt’s leg and jerked him off his feet.

Other werewolves joined her. After a moment, I couldn’t see Kelt at all as the wolves snarled and snapped. He screamed as they tore at his flesh, but I had no empathy.

None at all.

Grey didn’t even turn around. He strode away, obviously confident in pack justice.

“We won, right?”

“Yes, Arabelle. We won.”

Those were the last words I heard.

I
DREAMED OF
the ocean
. I’d never seen the Pacific—never gone outside the borders of Nevada—yet I stood on the beach, my toes digging into cool, wet sand. Night clung to the water and to the sky, clutching both in slippery black folds. A curl of moon hung in the midnight sky, the only light in an otherwise stygian world.

I walked into the ocean sedately. The water covered my calves, my hips, my waist. I felt at peace. Buoyed by its strength. Its unaccountable warmth.

As the water hit my shoulders and my feet left the sand, I heard him.

“Arabelle!”

I felt pulled in two directions. One toward the horizon. The other toward shore.

I tread water, considering.

Forward—into the ocean, into the arms of God.

Backward—to the shore line, into the arms of man.

One man.

Grey.

M
Y EYES FLUTTERED
open
. As I looked around the room, I wondered if I’d died and gone to heaven. A very luxurious heaven that had big, dark furniture, gold and brown accents, comfortable bedding—and was that a chaise? Beyond that, I saw a huge hearth with bookshelves all around it.

“Arabelle.”

I turned my head. Grey lay next to me. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. I reached out and touched the hair that had sprouted along his cheeks and chin. “You grew a beard in a day? How often do you werewolves have to shave?”

He choked out a laugh. “You’ve been unconscious for nearly two weeks. I’ve had doctors, healers—hell, I even called Lisa Pearson to come look at you.”

“But I’m not a werewolf.”

“You are the best werewolf I have ever known.” He kissed my lips, my cheeks, my forehead, even my eyelids. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“What happened?”

“Cacie Lynn shot you.”

“I whacked her with Colt’s sword.” I gasped. “Colt!”

“He’s fine. He came through surgery like a champ. He’s been back here for almost a week, driving me crazy, as usual.”

“I would like to see him. I owe him an apology for using his sword wrong.”

Grey chuckled. “You used it exactly right.”

My head throbbed, and my side was really quite sore.

“My parents? Aunt Lila?”

“Everyone’s fine. There were tunnels hidden under the elder’s house. She took everyone out that way. Cacie Lynn is in prison awaiting tribunal.”

“Kelt is dead.”

“Yes. The pack took care of that.”

“I cut off his hair,” I said. “I didn’t mean to.” I glanced at Grey. “I think I was aiming for his head.”

“That act was enough to denigrate him in the eyes of the pack. Our hair is important. Keeping it long is part of our tradition, part of our belief in the old gods. It represents our strength. It’s like your Samson and Delilah story.”

“I cut off his hair … and he lost his strength?”

“It was the ultimate symbol of his defeat.”

I was glad that Kelt was dead, and out of our lives. “How is Neela?”

“She’s … Neela. After Kelt was defeated, Mac took off. I have enforcers looking for him, but I doubt we’ll find him.”

“I don’t think Mac was a good person.”

“Nor was he a good werewolf,” agreed Grey.

“I’m not sure Neela is a good person, either.”

“We’ll see,” said Grey. “She’s young. Impulsive. Ruled by her anger.”

“She has daddy issues.”

He smiled. “That, too. She’s still taking sabbatical to the Earth Pack. She needs to learn patience.”

I couldn’t say that I liked Neela all that much, but maybe given time we could learn not to snarl at each other too much. She’d shown her true loyalties, and for that, I would always be grateful.

“I’m tired, Grey.” I yawned. “By the way, where are we?”

“This is our bedroom.”

“Sweet mercy! It’s amazing.”

“Wait until you see the rest of our place,” he murmured. “I’ll show you the compound. I’ll show the whole world, Arabelle. Just please stay with me.”

“I’m right here,” I said.

“You left for a while.” He looked at me. “I’m in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you, too,” I said.

“I thought as much—after you took a bullet for me.”

“That’s what wives do for their husbands.”

“When you’re better, I’ll reward you probably.” His gaze turned wicked then he gave me smacking kiss. “Rest now, sweetheart.”

“Okay.” I settled into his embrace, resting my head against his chest, the beat of his heart my very own lullaby.

It is a wonderful thing, I tell you, to be loved by the alpha.

Keep reading for a Sneak Peek at #2 in The Pack Rules series: Taken by the Werewolf Triplets…