It Begins with Her (Becoming the Wolf Book 4)

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It Begins with Her (Becoming the Wolf Book 4) Page 1

by T. S. Joyce




  IT BEGINS WITH HER

  (BECOMING THE WOLF, BOOK 4)

  By T. S. JOYCE

  Other Books in this Series

  Behind the Beginning (Book 1)

  Hold Steady (Book 2)

  Protect Mine (Book 3)

  It Begins with Her

  Copyright © 2016 by Tera Shanley/T. S. Joyce

  Copyright © 2016, Tera Shanley/T. S. Joyce

  First electronic publication: 2016 as Summit of the Wolf

  Rights reverted back to Author February 10, 2019

  T. S. Joyce

  www.tsjoyce.com

  All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author’s permission.

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

  Published in the United States of America.

  Contents

  Other Books in this Series

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Newsletter Sign-Up

  More Series from this Author

  For More From this Author

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Morgan gasped and clung to the grab handle of Greyson’s truck for dear life. A horrible screeching sound of metal on metal wailed out as another car collided with the bed of the truck. The men chasing them pulled off of them enough for Grey to gas it and pull ahead, but it wasn’t fifteen seconds before the black SUV behind them floored it into the oncoming traffic lane and caught up.

  Grey’s hand clenched her thigh protectively as he hit the gas and tried to maneuver away from the four-wheeled battering ram. “If we roll, I want you to get out as fast as you can and run for the woods. Change, and when you are a wolf, run for Dean’s.”

  “Stop it, Grey. I’m not leaving you.” Terror seized her chest as a sedan barreled toward them. The SUV barely pulled out of their lane and onto the opposite shoulder, missing them by inches. The blast of a horn hurt her ears.

  “They could’ve killed whoever was in that car!” Her dark hair whipped out of the broken window when she turned and saw the black Ford Escape gliding across the road toward them. They were going to hit Grey’s side of the truck this time.

  Grey snarled, and slammed on the brakes, backed out of their way just in time for them to miss the front end of Grey’s truck entirely.

  “They’ll take you, Morgan,” he snarled. “It’ll be Montana all over again.”

  Montana. Just the word brought on the cold sweats. That’s where her kidnappers had taken her. That’s where she had been hurt for what she was—for being Silver Wolf.

  “What do they want?”

  “They want you, and they’re going to plow right through me to get to you. I felt watched all day.”

  Well, the honeymoon was over. Dean had called Grey an hour ago with the message, “Get home now.” Clearly, he’d lost his mind. That old wolf knew better than to give Grey an order. Demon Wolf would happily rip his throat out and squat on the grave if he wasn’t his friend and ally.

  Dean had given the message and hung up. Never a good sign when the Dallas pack alpha didn’t offer an explanation. Trouble was coming, and it was as big and it was wide. This attack proved it.

  The Escape skidded in the gravel on the side of the road, and then turned sharply. Grey locked up the brakes completely and tried to avoid the crash, but as he spun out, the back of the truck slammed into the SUV. Metal and glass exploded, and Morgan screamed, throwing her arms over her face to protect her eyes. If they rolled here, they would be just miles from Dean’s property. A couple miles away from backup. Dean’s pack had made a pledge to ally themselves with Grey’s pack in order to offer Morgan protection—the perks of being one of a kind.

  She ripped her gaze from the dizzying road before them. Grey’s sandy blond hair thrashed around his face, and his eyebrows furrowed with unbridled focus. His jaw clenched against the beautifully masculine angles of his face, but his eyes golden yellow and seething. Hello, Wolf. He hit the accelerator, and pulled back into his lane, leaving the SUV in the dust.

  “Grey.” The side mirror was cracked but she could see the SUV straighten out and speeding after them. How was the damn thing still mobile? “They’re coming.”

  Her mate just smiled as if he knew a secret. He twitched his head toward his shattered window. “Look behind them.”

  Morgan twisted around in her seat to find Brent’s blue jacked-up truck pulling up beside the Escape. It plumed black smoke out the back, and sounded like an eighteen-wheeler when he hit the gas. Whatever he’d done to the exhaust had made it into one of those end-of-the-world sounding rigs. Fine-grained dirt billowed in a trail behind him, and Dean’s most submissive wolf leaned forward against the steering wheel with such a look of concentration, she almost missed Jason, the pack enforcer, shouting instructions from the passenger seat.

  The cavalry had arrived.

  Grey’s truck couldn’t take much more, and the Escape seemed to be in better shape. It whipped into the side in a final effort to force Grey’s truck from the road, but at the same moment, Brent sideswiped the back end of the attacker. It was enough. The Escape spun out of control, barely missing Brent as he jerked the wheel to avoid them. Morgan screamed as the truck slid to the side and down into the steep ditch.

  Grey slammed on the brakes, and shoved it in park as soon as he stopped. He shoved the door open and grabbed a long knife he always kept strapped to his side of the console. When he got out, he said, “Stay here.”

  It was the first time Morgan had ever felt a real order from an alpha. His words were laced with a power she couldn’t ignore. She sat frozen in her seat, watching as he walked down one of the long skid marks he’d made when he slammed the truck to a stop. His broad shoulders were tense, and through his navy T-shirt, she could see every striation of muscle. The knife hung down by his side, swinging slightly with every step he took toward the SUV in the ditch.

  Jason was already out of Brent’s truck and met Grey there, and together, they disappeared down the deep slope. Moments, later, the returned, and Grey was wiping the blade of his knife on his thigh. Red streaked across the denim, and he lifted gold eyes to her. “You’re safe,” he said. Even from all the way over there, she could hear him just fine.

  His phone trilled loudly from the cupholder, and she hunched against the sound. Dean’s name flashed across the screen. She punched accept. “Dean?”

  “What’s happening?”

  “Car chase. Black Ford Escape. Brent and Jason chased it off the road. Grey and Jason just came out of the ditch it’s in, and Grey is headed back here. I’m going to put you on speaker.”

&nb
sp; “Are they dead,” Dean asked.

  Grey cast her a yellow-eyed glance as he climbed back in the truck. “Everything is fine.”

  “Is everyone all right?” Dean asked.

  She glanced at the sideview mirror where Jason was making a call on the road, and the SUV had disappeared into the brush below the road. “Mostly all right.”

  “Sorry I interrupted the honeymoon, but I have news,” Dean said. “Brandon and Logan were out for a run, and they smelled a bunch of unfamiliars near your property line. They crossed over to get a better look, and there are three full carloads of wolves waiting at the cabin. They ran back here to Change and fill me in. How do you want to handle this?”

  There was no surprise in Grey’s voice, only grim acceptance as he crawled behind the wheel and slammed the door closed. “We’re about to turn into your drive right now.”

  “You want to try to wait them out over here?”

  “No. They’ll wise up sooner or later and head to your place. We don’t want that, and I don’t think waiting them out will deter them, anyway. Fucking idiots aren’t thinking straight right now. I need to bring Morgan over to wait with Rachel and Marissa. I’ll try to talk them down, but I might need backup if it gets ugly.”

  “We’re ready. Whatever you need, man. I’ve called the pack in. Everyone is here but Jason and Brent.”

  Grey slid burning golden eyes to the rearview mirror. “Jason is calling a clean-up crew.”

  “Good. We’ll see you in a few.”

  “Grey, you are still injured from the challenges,” Morgan whispered. “You can’t fight them right now, and I can’t wait at Dean’s place not knowing what’s happening.”

  “I’ll try to keep it from going there. I’ll be all right, and Dean and the boys will back me up if I need it. You can’t be there because it will make them crazy, and we’ll lose any chance we have at keeping it civil. I need to know you are safe.” He squeezed her leg gently.

  She held her tongue. It would do no good to put her fears on him. He had enough to worry about at the moment, even if he looked calm and collected. Wolf was made for this kind of conflict. She just had to trust him.

  The pack was waiting on the front porch as he pulled the truck to a stop. Brent and Jason skidded to a halt behind them. Marissa, Morgan’s nineteen-year-old packmate, dragged her through the front door and past the boys talking strategy. Rachel, Dean’s mate, sat on the couch biting her thumbnail absently. Even when she looked at Morgan, she was a hundred miles away. Morgan sat heavily beside her, and Marissa perched on the arm of the sofa. None of them spoke, and their collective worry filled the room until it was hard to breathe. This kind of war, with the number of wolves involved, could potentially wipe out entire packs.

  Please, God, let it not be our packs, Morgan silently pleaded.

  This was all her fault. She was Silver Wolf, the only breeding female werewolf in existence, and the male werewolves were in a violent frenzy to claim her. She had brought a fight to the door of the ones she loved because of what she was. It gutted her—being the reason for all of this. Grey stood by the front windows, his silhouette stern and authoritative. He and the boys were planning the best way to save her. She was completely helpless to stop what was coming. If she went to fight those men, it would be like chum in a sea of sharks. She would make everything worse, but she hated this. Hated. It. Hated not being able to stick up for herself. Even if she gave herself over to another pack, there would be fights for her there, as well. Not for her. For Silver Wolf. People would be hurt, people she cared about, and the consequences would be unforgettable.

  The Dallas pack walked off the porch and into the front yard. The clunks of their boots sounded hollow against the wooden floorboards.

  Grey turned from the window to leave, and she rushed to say goodbye. The girls followed her.

  “Where is Dean going?” Rachel asked.

  When Grey turned to her, his lips were set in a thin, somber line. “He and the boys are Changing. They’re going to wait in the woods to see if I can get these men off my property without a fight. If I can’t, they will already be wolves, and we will hopefully have the element of surprise on our side.”

  Morgan hugged him like a barnacle. That was her move when she didn’t want him to go. His back cracked under her embrace and his arms were pinned to his side. He chuckled and the sound vibrated against her cheek. “You worry too much,” he murmured.

  She released him and he leaned down and kissed the hell out of her. His bright eyes danced when he pulled away and there was that crooked smile clinging to the corner of his lips. “We’ll come get you when it’s done.”

  She didn’t miss it though. He had said “we’ll come get you,” not “I’ll come get you.” He wasn’t making her any promises.

  She stood on the porch feeling like her bond was going to rip her in half as Grey shoved Wade’s big medical box in the misshapen bed of the injured truck and drove away. The Chevy grew smaller and smaller until it faded into the woods. Her heart hammered like a death march, and the sinking feeling in her stomach became quicksand.

  We’ll never see him again, her inner wolf wailed inside of her head.

  “Who’s the dramatic one now?” Morgan retorted, wishing she felt as confident as she sounded right now.

  “We have to do something,” she told Marissa and Rachel as she came back into the house.

  Rachel shrugged miserably. “What can we do? They told us to stay here. And it’s not like we can fight those packs. We would be sitting targets.”

  “Not Morgan.” Marissa had been quiet, and when she spoke up her eyes cast an eerie light gray. “I don’t think they would hurt Morgan because she is the prize, right?”

  “Okay, but what could she do to change the outcome?” Rachel asked.

  Morgan’s throat filled with a long-stifled admission. “I can fight.”

  “Okay, but we all can,” Marissa said. “We all run the risk of our wolves going submissive in a fight though.”

  “No, I mean my human side can fight.”

  Morgan was met by matching, confused frowns. “Like…fist fight?” Rachel asked.

  “No, like martial arts training.”

  “What?” Marissa said so loud, Morgan hunched against the noise.

  “Okay, okay,” Rachel said, nodding. “Even if you can fight, it’s too dangerous. Too big a risk. You’re the Silver Wolf. Think about Lana.”

  “I am,” Morgan murmured. “What kind of guardian would I be if I show her it is okay to let everyone else fight my battles? If I just sit back and never defend myself while others get hurt or killed because of me. Rachel, Dean is out there, and you know Grey won’t be able to talk them down. There are at least twelve wolves at the cabin waiting for a fight while there are only seven of our wolves. This can’t be the last time I see him. There has to be more than a couple of days of happiness for us. We have to do something. Do you have any weapons? Will that make you feel better out there?”

  Rachel stared at the wall, rubbing her cheek absently against her shoulder. She jerked her head back to Morgan. “Follow me.” She ran up the stairs to the master bedroom. In her closet, she tore a bunch of clothes off the rack and tossed them carelessly to the carpet. In the back, she hit a latch hidden behind a shelf, and the panel clicked open. Once she moved it out of the way, an entire wall of weapons gleamed in a secret armory.

  “Whoa,” Marissa said on an exhale. “I didn’t know you guys had all of this stuff up here.”

  “Nobody does except for Wade. This is mine.” Rachel grabbed a crossbow and a quiver of silver tipped arrows. “If I can get up a tree, I can pick them off and they won’t be able to climb up after me. Then Dean doesn’t have to worry about me being safe. I don’t want him losing focus. It will take me time to get into a good spot, so someone will have to cover me and make sure no one sees us.”

  “I’ll do that,” Marissa said, picking up a silver sword. “I’m not going to be much good in a fight, but I use
d to play baseball. I could at least swing one of these, I think.”

  “Oh my God, Marissa don’t chop your leg off or something,” Rachel said.

  “I’m a werewolf. It’ll probably grow back.”

  “It won’t grow back,” Morgan and Rachel both said at the same time.

  Morgan picked up a knife set. Blades had always been her secret obsession. She even collected them. “These are mine.” One was small and easy to maneuver, while the other was large and heavy with a curved blade for slicing. It was as if they were made for her hands. She touched the blade lightly and pulled a sizzling finger back. Silver did that to werewolves. The cut hurt so bad, and stung more and more with each passing moment. Satisfied, she turned back to Rachel. “Okay, how do we get there? The truck is too obvious, and we can’t Change to run there and still carry the weapons.”

  “We have four-wheelers in the barn,” Rachel said, frowning at the weapons cache. “We can park them at a distance, and run the rest of the way to stay quiet.”

  Now that was a plan she could get on board with. No more waiting around for the boys to come back, or not. “Okay, let’s go.”

  The wind whipped Morgan’s hair as she ran for the barn behind Rachel and Marissa. Thank God, Lana was still with Mom and didn’t have to witness what was about to happen. Rachel threw the door open, and Marissa turned on the first four-wheeler. Morgan hopped on it while Rachel started the other. Quick as a whip, Morgan secured the weapons on the front storage rack with bungee cords and while Marissa climbed on behind her. No sooner was she in place than Morgan floored it and skidded out of the barn, throwing gravel and mulch out beside them. The little engines were loud, but Morgan could still hear fighting and snarling in the distance. The pack war had already started. Shit.

  Marissa heard it to. “Go, go, go,” the girl encouraged Morgan, her arms going even tighter around her middle.

  She gassed it, and Rachel pulled up beside her, weaving through the woods right along with her.

 

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