Raging Wolf: A MC Werewolf Romance

by Felicity Jordan

  Moments after speeding past the last house in town, Bruce eased on the brakes and pulled over on the right side of the road. Michael and Ray followed suit, the view of the blue, neon-sign of “Purple Rock” bar in the distance catching his eye.

  “Keep that memory out of your mind, Michael. It’ll be your downfall.”

  Completing his thought, he brought his gaze to the hillside on his right. A dense forest of elm and balsam fir trees lay beyond an uphill path, a mix of their scents imbuing the air.

  “Keep it together, boys,” Bruce advised in his hoarse voice, his hands on his waist. “They’ll try to mess with your head. Like I said, if anything goes wrong, we haul ass.”

  The Alpha shuffled off up the path, crushing a dry twig under his boot.

  “I’m kind of jealous of you, man,” Ray confessed to Michael as the ground leveled out. “You’ve taken out two bloodsuckers, and I haven’t broken my cherry yet.”

  “You’d better pray you don’t,” Michael uttered, his voice bass-deep. “The one I fought tonight was a lot stronger than the one in New York.”

  “When were you going to tell me you were banging Dunston’s daughter?” Bruce asked, his tone relaxed.

  “Never,” Michael confessed, catching up to him. “I was afraid you wouldn’t like it.”

  “You’re right, I didn’t,” Bruce confirmed. “That chick is bad news, but if the warlock’s okay with it, why should I give a fuck?”

  “He doesn’t know,” Michael pointed out, moving around a pile of brush.

  “That’s what he wants you to think,” Bruce countered. “Trust me, he knows.”

  “That’s impossible,” Michael disagreed, his tone firm. “We were careful. That’s…” He faltered. “Until she broke up with me.”

  Bruce snorted in amusement. “You want to think you fooled him? Fine by me. I’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

  Michael parted his lips, ready to give him an angry rebuttal, but, at that moment, an odor overshadowed the scent of trees. It was none other than the stench of death.

  “Keep them inside,” Bruce ordered in a voice more animal than man, their confident steps leading them deeper into the bush. “I’d love to rip those pricks to pieces, but that’s not what we’re here for.”

  Michael noticed a somewhat large gap between two trees, a few yards down the path they were on. His Alpha jogged ahead of them; fists clenched. Despite his age, he was still a fighter, and it looked like he wanted to prove that one more time. The three of them stepped out into a clearing, the smell that had warned them of their enemy’s presence intensifying. In silence, they scanned the area. More trees filled Michael’s line of sight, along with small bushes on the far edge of the clearing. Before he could verbalize however, a large, stocky figure among the trees drew his attention. His blonde hair glimmered in the moonlight for a moment and disappeared into the darkness again. The vampire walked out of the forest, a smug smile gracing his face.

  “That son of a bitch is huge,” Ray commented. “What is he? 6’4”? 6’5”?”

  “Size is overrated, Raymond.” Their adversary smirked. “Even the smallest of creatures can terrify giants.”

  “How do you know my name?” Ray squinted, pointing to himself.

  “I know all your names,” the vampire claimed, his smile vanishing. “One has to study their enemies before they can defeat them.”

  “And you are?” Bruce grumbled, taking a step forward.

  “I’m sorry, where are my manners? Dominic Weathers.” He introduced himself, settling his gaze on the Alpha.

  “You’re trespassing, you fuck,” Bruce emphasized, tossing a nasty glare over at him. “Constantine’s Peak is sacred for my people. You’re defiling it.”

  “Terrible manners.” Dominic scoffed, pressing his lips together. “What would your ancestors say if they heard you use that kind of language?”

  “Nothing!” Bruce groaned, once again curling his fingers into fists. “They’d probably wonder why I haven’t ripped your fucking head off yet.”

  “Amusing,” Dominic commented, his smirk reappearing. “My clan and I are here for the living space. We’ve been nomadic for years, and this beautiful patch of wilderness constitutes an ideal hunting ground. We have no intention of harming the humans or any mountain resident for that matter, but we need their homes. You have seventy-two hours to evacuate the towns in the surrounding area. If you fail to comply, the humans are fair game. And you?” He paused and gave a short laugh. “You will be annihilated.”

  “Bring it on, motherfucker,” Michael snarled, his eyes blazing with unmasked anger. “Bring it on.”

  “Seventy-two hours,” Dominic repeated, stepping backwards. Watching him disappear into the woods, Michael felt the desire of his inner beast to be unleashed yet again. He had tolerated that vampire enough. However, he couldn’t disregard his Alpha’s order. It wasn’t just a matter of obedience. It was a matter of survival.

  “We’ve got to go tell our people,” Bruce remarked, sadness sending his voice down an octave. “They have to know we’re at war.”

  “Yeah, this ultimatum is crap,” Michael agreed, at the same time wondering who could assist them in the impending battle. It was then that a single name stood out in his mind. And the recollection gripped his heart like a vise. As much as it hurt him, he had to ask for help from the woman who had just abandoned him. Helena’s contribution could make the difference for him and his kind. They would have plenty of help from their countrymen, but not one of them possessed a witch’s powers…

  Chapter Eighteen

  Helena

  “I need to talk to you ASAP. Don’t call me. We can’t do this over the phone. Friday night at 8. Windmill.”

  Much to Helena’s pleasure, Michael had saved her the trouble of having to reach out to him first. She had made a mistake. She had no problem admitting it, but she would rather do that in person, not over the phone.

  Unbeknownst to him, he had managed to lift a burden off her shoulders. Helena dreaded the thought of rejection. She had been wondering if he agreed to meet with her since her conversation with Susan at Fulton Empire State Park. That message however was definite proof that he believed some of the last words he said to her:

  “This isn’t over.”

  Just minutes prior to their date, she was making plans of spending a romantic night with him under the stars. Yet, the sound of rain tapping against the glass of the window forced her to reconsider. To make matters worse, visibility would be poor. Helena would hardly be able to make out Michael’s figure. Still, neither of these facts could dampen her spirits. She grabbed a blue lantern and an umbrella, and set out from her mansion, in eager anticipation of picking up where they had left off.

  She made her way through the trees, her heart racing in her chest. She had been waiting for this moment for days. Of course, it would be better if it had come sooner, but she would take it, nonetheless. Large drops of water were falling off the leaves and onto her umbrella, her light body preventing her boots from sinking into the mud. Helena strode past a piece of twisted metal, the scent of wet soil lingering in the air. Michael’s imposing stature filled her view, the sight of his drenched, black hair bringing back the memory of their first kiss. He was standing next to a pile of rubble, his frozen breath chugging in front of his face like steam from a locomotive.

  “Hi,” she spoke out, closing the distance between them. “It’s great to see you again.”

  “Ditto,” he admitted, tipping his head down. “How have you been?”

  Helena squeezed her eyes shut and looked away from him for a moment. She might have been expecting his question, but answering it was not easy. “Honestly?” She paused and returned her gaze to him. “Not so good. I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too, but that’s not why I wanted to see you.” Michael’s statement puzzled her. “This thing is bigger than you and me.”

  “What are you talking about?” Helena asked, putting some force in her voice.


  “There’s a clan of vampires up in Constantine’s Peak,” he declared, his own voice weakening. “I met with their Alpha last night. He demanded we evacuate everyone out of the towns in three days, or they’ll go after the humans.”

  “Excuse me?!” She exclaimed, casting a puzzled glance up at him.

  “It’s true,” Michael nodded, pursing his lips. “My people want to fight them. Hell, they’ve been our natural enemies for ages. But we need an ace up our sleeves, something they won’t see coming. You. The question is: Do you want to get involved?”

  “Yes.” The word slipped out of her mouth, without her taking even a moment to think about it. She had friends and acquaintances in both human towns. Kate and Julia were closest to her, but they had families, nieces, nephews, young children who didn’t deserve to die such horrific deaths. “I would love to help.”

  Her words painted a blissful smile on his face. Michael stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her waist, his eyes opaque in the pale illumination. He didn’t speak. His warm breath tickled her nose, sending shivers down her spine. Sliding his arms up her back, he angled his lips. He cupped her face in both of his hands, before easing her into a soft, tender kiss. The lantern slipped from Helena’s grasp. She threw the umbrella over her head and curved her arms around his neck, thick raindrops falling on her forehead. A deep whimper escaped her as she trapped him in her embrace. Her wolf was hers again. Her savior had found the heart to forgive her. She caressed the back of his neck, feeling his cold, wet skin in the palm of her hand. Michael moved his lips up and kissed the tip of her nose, his fingers getting tangled in her hair.

  “Thank you,” he whispered, gazing deep down into her eyes. “You’ve just…”

  At that point, five, simultaneous howls echoed across the valley, interrupting him. He whipped his head around, dropping his arms.

  “Damn it…” He barked out, a sizzling flash blinding Helena. “I have to go.”

  “No,” she said on an exhale. “Not yet.”

  “They need me!” He shouted, turning his head back to her.

  “Where are they?” She posed a question, her voice riddled with tension.

  “Near Acheron River,” Michael retorted. “Why?”

  “Take my hand,” Helena commanded, bending her knees to pick up the lantern.

  “We…”

  “Take it!” She insisted, her voice stiff. With a rather confused look in his eyes, he set his hand into her palm as she sucked in a deep breath. An image of the frozen stream and the snowy trees poured into her mind. Helena pushed every thought and emotion out, knowing in her heart that this was the ultimate test for her. She closed her eyes and pictured herself there, gazing at the wilderness that surrounded her.

  For a fleeting moment, the sound of the rain ceased altogether. She couldn’t feel the soil beneath her feet, either. Right after that, the torrent lashed down on her, and the frost in the air increased. Her eyelids rolled up, giving her a clear picture of her location. Acheron River was still frozen. Snow had piled up on either shore, the rainfall melting the snowflakes in its wake.

  “I did it,” Helena whispered, unable to believe her eyes as she shook his wrist. Michael moved around her; his gaze locked on the snowy slope below. Bruce’s black wolf was hurtling up the mountainside, his paws sending snow in every direction. The rest of his pack was right behind him, following their leader.

  “What the hell…?” He muttered, his gaze following Bruce. In a split second though, something else grabbed Helena’s attention. A black cloud of smoke shot up from the ground, just a few yards to the left. It vanished into thin air, revealing a familiar figure. Frank Dunston, cloaked in black, with a cylindrical staff in his grasp, facing Michael’s comrades. He thrust the stick down towards Bruce’s beast, letting out a malicious grunt. The wolf yipped in terror, a moment before he was lifted off the ground. In sheer disbelief, Helena watched the Alpha get tossed over the edge of the cliff. Frank raised his staff inches above his head and thrust it to the right. The wolf’s body smashed against a tree trunk, the sound of his bones cracking filling her heart with dread.

  “No!” Michael cried out, clasping his hands behind his head, elbows pointing forward. Assuming his wolf form, he sped off towards his fallen leader, his pack standing on the edge of the cliff. Staring at her father in utter shock, Helena struggled to muster the strength to speak. But even if she could do so, it was obvious to her that he wasn’t interested in addressing her. He was grinning from ear to ear, his gaze on the body of the black wolf. Michael’s lupine lowered his muzzle and sniffed, his tail waving behind him. A yip of sorrow twisted her stomach into knots. She was too far to check if he was alive or not, and the gray wolf was blocking him from view, but she could tell… The Alpha had drawn his last breath.

  Michael’s snarl spurred her into action. Helena burst off towards him, catching a glimpse of his eyes, glowing yellow in the darkness as he faced her father.

  “You want a fight?” He smirked, sticking his staff to the ground. “I’ll give you a fight.”

  “No!” She screamed, shortening her strides. Helena halted in front of the wolf, her chest heaving. “Please Daddy! Don’t hurt him!”

  “Right.” Frank sneered, giving a swift nod. He swiped his staff left, the shockwave knocking Helena off balance. Suddenly, she found herself in mid air, flying away from Michael. He lowered his stick and aimed at him, before a blue beam shot out of its lower end. The gray wolf leapt over his fallen leader at the last minute, the beam sheering off a low-hanging tree branch. Frank grunted in frustration, once more targeting Michael. Yet, with the rest of the pack barreling towards him, he was forced to reconsider.

  “Two days, you mutts!” He yelled, the same cloud of black smoke enveloping him.

  Once he had disappeared, Helena rose back up to her feet and ran off towards Michael. Bruce’s wolf was lying on his left side, his eyes shut, the tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth. The gray lupine was sitting back on his haunches, blinking slowly. She dropped to her knees beside him, without a clue as to what she could say to him. Helena curled her arms around his massive head, tears pooling in her eyes. The beast raised his head to the sky, a bang of thunder sending shockwaves across the valley. His howl of sorrow rose and reverberated through the night, shattering her heart to pieces…

  Chapter Nineteen

  Michael

  The crazy notion that Michael had not dared to believe had proved absolutely correct. Frank Dunston was indeed behind the incident in New York and the vampires’ threat. Michael was still unable to explain why he had sent someone after his own daughter, but did it matter? No. He had witnessed the brutality of the warlock. He had seen how he was able to end someone without even laying a hand on them. His intentions concerning Helena were a mystery that nobody had to explain. After all, he had much bigger issues than that.

  First, he was the new Alpha. He had to lead his kind to battle, a battle that would shape the fortunes of everyone in the mountain, not just shifters alone. Michael had taken over at the worst possible time. He didn’t have any time whatsoever to learn how to be a leader. All he had was his zest for life and a witch who was willing to aid him in his endeavor. Would those be enough? He had no idea.

  Furthermore, the revelation about her father had turned Helena into an emotional wreck. After Frank had murdered Bruce, he took her to his cabin, because she was in no condition to go back home. They spent the better part of the night in silence, which was only interrupted when she burst into tears. He tried to comfort her, but, in this dark hour, he felt useless. More than ever, her father had shown everyone his true colors. Witnessing such a despicable act was more than she could handle.

  On top of all that, Michael was broken inside. He had countless memories with Bruce. Good or bad, they had strengthened the bond between them. They didn’t always see eye to eye, but he was a wise Alpha. No one could deny that. Now, his successor had to recall the times where he demonstrated that wisdom. It could t
urn out to be a valuable tool in their struggle against Dominic’s clan.

  The next morning, the streets of Mercer were empty. On his way to the workshop, Michael even saw some of his compatriots loading their belongings on pickup trucks. No surprises there. Not all shifters were made to fight. Some of them were submissive, destined to do other things than protect their homeland. Nonetheless, Michael was so frustrated that even that age-old truth hurt him inside. The stakes for Mercer had never been higher, at least not in his lifetime. Why those people would abandon their homes was beyond him.

  Their clubhouse was as quiet as a graveyard. His comrades preferred to look at Bruce’s old pictures on the wall, mutter some details to each other and then get lost in their thoughts. Even the ever-talkative Ray had laid Bruce’s leather jacket out on the table and stared at the detail in the seams.

  “Guys, wake up,” Michael commanded, sauntering across the hall. “Nothing’s over yet.”

  “Tell that to Bruce,” Johnnie stated, the corners of his eyes tightening.

  “We can’t win, man,” Ray spoke his mind, looking up at him. “You saw him; you know how powerful he is.”

  Michael huffed in exasperation. “How many have volunteered so far?”

  “Thirty-two,” Ray responded, his voice dropping in volume. “Our scouts say Dominic’s clan is more than twice as strong. Add Dunston to the mix, and there you have it.”

  “I’ll take care of my father.” Helena’s words added to his angst. She was a lot of things; a killer wasn’t one of them, especially when her own father was involved.

  “You can’t be serious,” he protested, narrowing his eyes at her.

  “I am dead-serious,” she countered, her emphatic tone sending waves of anger washing over him.