by Anna Lowe
Five imposing shifters crowded through the door. Big. Menacing. Unamused.
Ty Hawthorne, the tall alpha of Twin Moon pack, glared the room into silence. Beside him was an equally imposing man — Zack, the wolf-coyote tracker. Summer had met him a few times at the saloon. They were flanked by their mates, two women who could have stepped straight from a history book about Amazon warriors, they looked so fierce. One even carried a bow.
“Mistress of the Hunt…” someone murmured in a voice filled with awe.
Summer had met all of them, but dang. In the saloon, they’d been nice, friendly folk. Now, they were all raw, looming power and barely bridled rage.
Behind the four wolves, the pack’s massive blacksmith filled up the doorway. A boar shifter — one of the gentlest, kindest people Summer had ever met. But not now. Holy cow, not now.
“Don’t let us interrupt you,” Ty Hawthorne growled as the five of them stood there, bristling. Sending a clear statement that the most powerful pack in the Southwest would keep a close eye on Hope Springs pack.
Summer trembled, and hell, half the gathered crowd did, too. Were her friends from the Blue Moon Saloon nearby, too? And crap, if Thomas’ announcement was not to their liking, what would they do?
Thomas seemed to be the only person in the room who didn’t blink an eye. He just nodded to Ty Hawthorne and went on.
“Hope Springs pack has made a name for itself in ways no honest shifter should support.”
A ripple went through the crowd, and Summer’s pulse skipped. Thomas was a good guy?
He swept his powerful gaze over every shifter in the room. “Ways that should make them ashamed. Too few spoke up against the men who led a rampage against innocent shifters who’d done no wrong. Too few resisted.”
Summer hung her head. And she wasn’t the only one.
“Many of you, I know, disapproved of the Whytes’ actions.”
Gretchen glared but kept her mouth shut.
“But did you act?” Thomas asked. “Did you speak up?”
He let the question hang in the air, and the room went from quiet to painfully silent as it became clear the question wasn’t rhetorical. The alpha expected an answer. Confessions.
Summer understood the need for the pack members to come clean and face their past. But, damn. Who would have the balls to speak up?
Floorboards creaked as the crowd shifted nervously on their feet. Thomas’ frown grew deeper. A sparrow fluttered through the eaves, and the whisper of its wings was a roar in the silence.
“I didn’t act,” Summer said quietly. Well, she meant to say it quietly, but the words came out loud and clear. “I didn’t speak up.”
Everyone whipped around, and their eyes burned into her. The girl nobody ever noticed was suddenly on center stage.
Her knees shook. Shit.
She took a deep breath. She focused on Drew and pretended he was the only one there.
You don’t have to do this, his eyes said.
Oh, but she did. She could never make a future with him if she didn’t get the regrets off her chest now.
“I helped Emmett track down his victims. I helped plan his ambushes.”
An older man eyed her sadly with an expression that said, But, dear. You’re so young. It wasn’t your fault.
She shook her head. “I didn’t know what they were doing at first. I never asked why. I never bothered thinking about what was really going on.” Her voice threatened to crack, and she cleared her throat. “Which makes me just as guilty.” And Jesus, did she feel the guilt. Every day. Every night.
She looked around the room, expecting glares. But the others had either lowered their eyes to the floor or were nodding in agreement.
“I knew it couldn’t go on, but all I could think of was to run away. All I could think of was myself.”
Drew looked at her and shook his head. The cubs. You saved the cubs.
That wasn’t the point. Didn’t he get it?
She was about to say as much, but a strong, clear voice sounded first, filling the room. It was Lana Dixon, Ty’s mate. A woman with as powerful a presence as her mate.
“You were part of stopping them. You had the courage to resist.”
“Not at the beginning, I didn’t.”
“One person can’t stop a runaway train. But one brave person can still act. And you did. What you did helped defeat the Blue Bloods.”
Brave. Had Lana Dixon, kick-ass alpha she-wolf of the Twin Moon pack, just called her brave? Summer locked her knees before her legs went out from under her.
“Brave enough to be the first to speak, too,” Thomas said, nodding.
Holy shit. The new alpha of a pack was making a positive example of her.
Thomas looked around the crowd with fierce eyes. “This isn’t about blame. This is about coming clean. We can’t concentrate on building our future if we don’t face the past first.” He paused while staring at each person in turn. “So, who else?”
The crowd fidgeted, but then an old man spoke. “I was against it from the beginning, but they didn’t listen, and I just gave up…”
A younger wolf chimed in next, gulping hard. “If my leg hadn’t been hurt, I would have gone with them on their latest attack. I wanted to be part of it. I just didn’t think it through.”
More and more people spoke, all of them in dull, quiet tones. Their shoulders slumped, their faces were heavily lined. Some held their tongues and kept their eyes on the ground, but Summer wasn’t worried about them. They were the type to follow a strong leader, and as long as that leader wasn’t a Whyte…
She glanced Mett’s way, but his eyes were cast down, too. She couldn’t see Gretchen behind the crowd, but really, what could Gretchen do now but hold her tongue? Her powerful brothers had been killed for their sick ideas.
When the room went quiet again, Thomas’ voice boomed out. “Anyone who objects to putting that all behind us, say it now.”
The silence that stretched awkwardly was the death knell of the Blue Blood movement.
“Those who directly participated in the killings are dead, and we have a future to build,” Thomas said. “A future in which we concentrate on rebuilding this pack in peaceful, honest ways.”
She shot a glance at Drew, who grinned at her from across the room. It’s over. It’s done.
Her knees really did buckle then, and as the visiting alphas spoke up to pledge their support for Thomas — another ritual that could take hours — Summer edged out the door.
Sunlight struck her like a physical thing, and the anxiety that had chilled her body slowly faded to a warm feeling of peace. A feeling of release.
She put her hands on her knees, closed her eyes, and replayed Drew’s words.
It’s over. It’s done.
Summer couldn’t help it. The second she folded over her knees, she cried. Shook. Sobbed. It hurt, that process of tearing herself away from so much guilt and fear — but it felt good, too. So she didn’t hold her emotions back. She probably couldn’t if she tried. And if anyone spotted her looking like an utter mess, who cared? It was over. Finally, it was over.
When her tears ran dry, she rubbed the last demons out of her eyes and tipped her head back to the sun. A new day. A new start. She could begin her life all over again. With Drew.
The morning air smelled fresh and hopeful, as if spring was hiding right around the corner ready to jump out and cry, Surprise! As if every flower in the desert was about to burst out in bloom. A hummingbird zoomed by in a flash of green and gold, and somewhere in the distance, a mourning dove cooed.
She sighed and closed her eyes again. Peace. What a priceless thing. Peace outside and peace within.
She was so lost in weary relief that she didn’t immediately react to the sound of shoes scuffing the earth nearby.
“Bitch.” A voice cut the still air like a knife. “What are you smiling about?”
Chapter Nine
Summer jolted, but it was too late. One strong hand pinned her arms, and
another slapped over her mouth. The overpowering scent of chewing tobacco flooded her nose.
Mett. Holy shit. Mett.
“I’ll give you something to smile about, bitch.” He half dragged, half pushed her away from the barn.
“Hurry up,” someone else grunted.
Footfalls sounded all around her. Shit, Mett wasn’t alone.
As he hustled her onward, she caught fleeting glimpses of the hate-filled faces of Gretchen’s sons. Gretchen’s not-too-bright, bloodthirsty sons. They hadn’t been among those expressing their regret at the meeting, that was for sure.
She tried digging her heels into the ground, but they just skidded along. Mett was too strong, and she was too worn out. He’d caught her at that sagging moment after weeks of forcing herself to be strong, and suddenly, she couldn’t find an ounce of energy any more.
You have to, a voice hissed at the back of her mind. You have to if you want to survive.
She bit the hand he held over her mouth, but he just slapped her.
“Traitor.” Mett dug his nails into her arms, and she cried out. “Whore. Don’t make it worse for yourself.”
Right, worse. What could possibly make this worse?
He forced her down the steep slope of a ravine then around one bend after another, moving out of sight and earshot of the settlement. Then he screeched to a halt and thrust her forward.
She stumbled, righted herself, then froze. There was Gretchen, right in front of her.
Yeah, that was worse, all right.
Gretchen slapped her so hard, Summer’s vision blurred. Something warm and sticky trickled over her chin. Blood. Gretchen had drawn blood, which immediately excited her sons.
“Show her. Show the bitch,” one of them sneered.
Gretchen backhanded her a second later, and just as Summer’s head rolled back to center, Gretchen slapped her once more.
The world blurred and wobbled around her, and Summer caught glimpses of more men. Was she seeing double, or had more arrived? She blinked her vision back into focus, and shit. The numbers of Mett’s gang had doubled. There were at least a dozen there now, all wearing hateful expressions that said they couldn’t wait to punish her. Brutally. Mercilessly.
“We worked so hard for so long,” Gretchen said, and the men nodded. “Working for the good of all shifters.”
The men murmured in agreement. “Purity. Purity.”
Summer’s stomach turned. She’d heard it all before. She’d seen the same crazed expressions on Emmett Whyte and his gang before they set off on their last ambush.
“You think we’ll let you ruin all that?” Gretchen glared. “You think we’ll let some outsider tell us what to do?”
By outsider, Gretchen meant Thomas, and there it was again — the scent of a conspiracy. Gretchen had some plan for getting rid of Thomas. Maybe not immediately, but soon. That much was evident in the old woman’s eyes. Gretchen would play along with Thomas while he rode his initial wave of triumph, but when the other wolf packs left and Thomas turned his back, Gretchen would strike.
“We are the true,” Gretchen shouted, and the men all cheered. “We will never give up our mission. And someday, shifters of all species will revere us for keeping the bloodlines strong and pure.”
Bile rose in Summer’s throat. Thomas might have declared the Blue Bloods gone, but the true believers lived on. They were right here, surrounding her.
Drew, she wanted to scream. Drew…
Gretchen cackled. “Call him. Call your dirty lover now.”
Summer froze. How could Gretchen know? Her heart shuddered when she realized Gretchen must have caught that one moment of indiscretion when Drew first entered the meeting and locked eyes with her. If Thomas had figured them out, Gretchen could have, too.
“Call him for help,” Gretchen goaded.
Every nerve in Summer’s body shouted the same order, but she bit her tongue. If she called Drew, he’d be murdered in cold blood.
“Whore. You could have had it all.” Mett spat at her feet.
By having it all, he meant being his mate.
Never, her wolf vowed. Never.
“You are sick,” she managed. “You’re all sick.”
“You’re the sick one.” Mett twisted her arm. “You had your chance to join the chosen few, but you betrayed your own kind instead.” He held her from behind, standing so close, his stubble scratched her cheek. “And you will pay the price.” Until then, he’d held her in place with an arm around her waist, but now he reached higher and groped her breast. “How about we remind you how good a wolf can make you feel?”
The other men snickered.
She’d never felt so dirty, so used — at least, not since the day she’d discovered Emmett had been using her to aid his attacks. And all her fear and anger came back in a flood. She would never stand meek and cowed again, even if it cost her her life.
A rush of adrenaline fueled her, and she twisted in Mett’s arms. She whipped her elbow around at the same time, putting her whole body into the blow. Mett fell, screaming.
“My nose! You broke my fucking nose.”
She scrambled away, staring at the blood gushing down his face. Then she whirled, ready to flee.
“Going somewhere?” One of Gretchen’s sons growled, blocking her path.
She spun left, but there was no way through there, either. No opening anywhere in the ring that closed in around her.
“Get her!” Mett shouted. “Punish her!”
She turned in a slow circle, holding up her fists. But, crap. How would she ever defend herself against so many? Her hands shook. Should she feel lucky to have made them angry enough to kill her outright instead of gang-raping her?
“Be done with it,” Gretchen snapped. “We’ve been gone for long enough. The others will notice. Just kill her. Then we’ll lure out that bear.”
“We’ll kill that bastard, too,” Mett howled.
“No!” Gretchen shouted, and all the men took a step back.
Summer gaped. Crap, she’d underestimated Gretchen. Gretchen was the one at the root of it all. She’d probably been the one feeding Victor and Emmett Whyte their sick ideas.
“Damn it, she could ruin everything I’ve been working for,” Gretchen screeched.
Summer stared. I? Not we? Then she saw the pride, the cockiness in Gretchen’s eyes.
It was Gretchen. It had been Gretchen all along.
“We need to set the bear up first,” the older woman said. “Make it look like he killed Summer out of jealousy when he found out this bitch chose Mett over him.”
“Never,” Summer sputtered. She wouldn’t choose Mett for her life.
The men started rumbling about the details, which shifted their focus from her.
Now! her wolf barked. This is our chance. Run!
She spun and pushed between two men, making a break for it.
“Hey!” one shouted.
The other grabbed for her, but she darted forward just in time.
“Get her! Run!”
Oh, she’d run, all right. Summer ran like she’d never run before, pumping her arms, denying herself a glance back.
Gravel scraped as the men took up the chase. Her mind spun. How far was it back to the settlement? Could she possibly outrun these men?
Let me out, her wolf cried. We’re faster on four feet.
True, but shifting would slow her down for a split second. Did she have enough of a lead?
The air whooshed behind her as the nearest man grabbed for her shirt. He was close. Too close to escape for long.
Then fight. Fight for your life. If they use dirty tactics, we can too, her wolf barked.
She ran up the first part of the slope then whipped around and kicked as hard as she could, sending the nearest man tumbling against the others.
Now, run. Run!
She ran, and when the slope grew steeper, she clawed at the scree with her hands and feet. She crested the ridge ahead of the men, raced around a corner—
>
—and smashed right into a wall of rock.
Whoa. She blinked as two arms steadied her. Make that a wall of muscle, not rock.
“Summer,” the wall murmured, setting her back on her feet.
Drew. It was Drew. She would have thrown herself into a hug if it weren’t for the footsteps rushing up from behind.
“Summer,” he said again, but this time, it was a rumble of warning.
She stared, because she’d never seen Drew red with anger. She’d never seen his eyes flash with such hate. This was a different Drew — and yet the same, because the side of him that brushed her body was gentle and warm. Protective.
He pushed her behind the shelter of his body as Gretchen’s gang stopped short in front of them.
“You,” Mett hissed in a voice full of poison.
Drew didn’t say anything. He only growled. So low and deep, it could have been thunder from over the hills.
Everyone froze, but the air crackled with energy. The air around Drew shimmered the way heat shimmered over a highway, signaling a shift. His growl dropped an octave. His shirt split down his back as he tipped forward onto all fours. One second, he was human, and the next, a giant black bear stood at her side.
A massive bear whose coat shook with fury as he reared up on his hind legs, looming over her.
Make that protecting her. The looming effect was intended for the others. And damn, it seemed to work, because Mett and his cousins stood perfectly still, teetering on the razor’s edge between panic and testosterone-fueled instinct to fight.
Drew bared huge teeth, spread paws as big as baseball mitts, each flashing with six-inch claws, and roared.
Try me, that roar said. Try me.
Chapter Ten
Drew sucked in a deep breath as the wolves before him shifted and growled.
Fight with your head, not with your heart. That’s what his father had always said. And he’d always listened.
But now… His whole body shook with rage, and power flowed through him the way it flowed through mighty rivers or in explosive bursts of wind. The way thunderclouds flowed over mountain ridges and swept over a valley, drowning it.
He flexed one paw then the other. This was a fight like no other, and hell yeah, he was going to fight with his heart. How could he not? This was for Summer.