What A Wolf Dares (Lux Catena Series Book 2)

by Amy Pennza

  “Duty?” her mother breathed. “No one has a duty to live with a monster.”

  Her father scowled. “Really, Constance, it’s amazing how you females revel in this melodrama.” He flicked a scornful glance at Sophie. “The truth is, Sophie would rather bed down with a Telepath than sleep with her rightful husband.”

  Her mother’s mouth trembled. “Sophie is our daughter… Your daughter.”

  Samuel Gregory took a long, hard look at Sophie.

  She held her breath. He had to feel something for her. She had his blood…and his eyes. Even if he didn’t love her, he loved her mother.

  He held her gaze and said, “Not anymore.” Then he turned and walked away.

  It was like she’d been punched in the gut. Her breath left her in a rush, and she clutched at her stomach like she’d been physically hit.

  Her mother reached for her, but Samuel stopped. “Constance!” he snapped. She jerked, clearly torn between her daughter and her mate.

  Sophie straightened. Her face was wet, and she swiped at the tear on her cheek. “It’s okay. Go.”

  “Sophie…” Pain shone from her mother’s eyes.

  “Constance!” Her father’s voice held an edge as sharp as a sword.

  “Go,” Sophie said. “I’m fine.”

  Her mother nodded. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Constance gave her a soft, sad smile, then turned and walked to her husband’s side. Together, they rejoined the assembly of wolves by the cage.

  For a moment, the cavern was still. Sophie stood alone, unsure what to do next.

  Noise behind her made her turn around. Max approached, his expression stern. He stopped beside her.

  “Are you all right, ma belle?”

  That brought a tremulous smile to her lips. “No. But I will be.”

  His pale eyes were admiring. “Une femme courageuse.”

  “I don’t understand French.”

  “Ask Remy later.” He smiled. “When this is all over.”

  She caught her breath. When this is all over. Remy would still be by her side when this was over. She had to believe that.

  Max touched her cheek. “Go back to the others, sweet. Let’s get this over with.” He raised his eyebrows. “I’m starving.”

  * * *

  As Sophie approached, Remy had to stop himself from breaking away from the group and scooping her into his arms. Every fiber in his body urged him to carry her upstairs, toss her in his car, and speed away from this place. They could seal their bond and spend the rest of their lives in Europe. Hell, maybe they’d find Dom’s tropical island and live off coconuts and sunshine. He could build them a little house out of driftwood. They’d string hammocks between the trees for sleeping…or other stuff. He’d never had sex in a hammock.

  His cock tightened.

  Okay, not the time or the place for this.

  As she neared, he curled his hands into fists so he wouldn’t touch her. Because if he did, he was going to toss her over his shoulder and run as fast as he could up those ridiculous steps and out of the Pit. He could have them on a plane by nightfall. He had enough money stashed in accounts around the world to keep them in comfort for the rest of their lives.

  Except she was right, he thought, his chest tightening. Her father would never stop hunting them. There was something twisted inside Samuel Gregory. His core was rotten.

  What a miracle it was that he managed to produce something as pure as Sophie.

  When she was a few steps away, he abandoned his resolve not to touch her. One minute she was gazing up at him, a mixture of hurt and worry in her eyes, the next minute she was pressed against his chest, their hearts pounding in sync.

  “You can still get out of this,” she said. “You can say no.”

  He released her and smoothed her hair back from her face. “Not an option, sweetheart.”

  “But…” Tears swam in her eyes. “But I love you,” she whispered.

  A giant fist squeezed his heart.

  Somehow, he managed to keep his voice steady. “Ah, beautiful girl. I love you, too.”

  “You do?”

  He smiled. “I’ve loved you since I saw you standing by that car.”

  Skepticism shone through her tears. “You didn’t even know me.”

  He shrugged. “I’m French. We know these things.”

  She shook her head. “Oh, Remy.”

  “Oh, Sophie.”

  “A touching scene,” a snide voice called from the center of the cavern.

  Sophie gasped and twisted in his arms. Her heart thudded hard against his forearm.

  A brown-haired man watched them. His eyes were fully Turned, the eerie blue color burning through the gloom.

  “Remy Arsenault,” Asher said, his voice pitched loud enough to echo through the cavern. “I hear you’ve been fucking my wife.”

  Sophie tensed.

  Remy spoke into her head. “Whatever happens, promise me you won’t try to intervene.” When she started to shake her head, he spoke again. “Stay here, with the others. Promise me.”

  She made a small, negative sound.

  He thought fast. “I have a plan. You just have to trust me.”

  She relaxed, and her heart rate slowed. Finally, she nodded.

  Thank goodness she couldn’t scent lies when he spoke in her mind. He dropped a kiss on top of her head and eased around her. Before he left, he met Dom’s gaze.

  “If anything happens—”

  “You have my word.” Dom’s voice in his mind was sure and strong. If Remy didn’t make it out of this alive, he would look after Sophie.

  He nodded to his friend, then turned and walked to the center of the cavern.

  Asher Benton was handsome, but only in the blandest, most standard sense. He wouldn’t look out of place in a fraternity house or on some stupid human clothing ad. He had the same all-American, go-getter look common to assholes everywhere.

  Remy called up his own wolf, letting the beast bleed into his eyes. He spoke in a low voice. “You’re right, mon ami. I have been fucking your wife…thoroughly.”

  Asher’s nostrils flared, and a little vein throbbed in his neck. Right then, Remy understood a fundamental flaw in his character. He couldn’t control his anger.

  Rage was a common enough emotion among werewolves. In a species that settled disputes with fight-to-the-death challenges, having a bad temper was nothing out of the ordinary. But wolves who let their anger rule them usually didn’t live very long.

  That’s probably why Remy hadn’t been able to discover much information about Asher. If Hamish’s heir was a hothead, he likely did whatever he could to keep the boy hidden away. Maybe he hoped time and experience would teach Asher some control.

  Asher’s face cleared, almost as if someone had erased his expression. Then he smiled. “That’s okay, Telepath. You can watch while I fuck her in front of my pack. It’s been a long time since anyone had a public bedding ceremony, but I’m happy to revive the tradition.” He tilted his head, like he was thinking. “Maybe I’ll share her with my Hunters afterward.”

  “Your father’s Hunters, you mean. You’ll never be Alpha.”

  Anger fired again. Asher clenched his fists. “Shut your filthy mouth, sneak.”

  Remy folded his arms. “You really are a miserable little shit, aren’t you.”

  Asher’s jaw dropped. “You…”

  “Spoke into your head? Yeah, it’s a special ability of mine.” A memory of Sophie gasping and accusing him of reading her mind flitted into his brain. She’d blushed so prettily when she worried he might have the power to read her thoughts.

  The blow came so quickly, he didn’t register it until he was already on the ground. Somewhere behind him, a woman let out a strangled scream. Cold stone pressed against his cheek, and a throbbing pain radiated through his jaw.

  Asher stood over him. “My Gift is pretty impressive, too.”

  Ah, that it was. Remy took a deep bre
ath. He drew on his wolf and shot to his feet. He could never match Asher’s speed, but he’d trained as a Hunter since he was fifteen. Something told him Asher didn’t have any real fighting experience.

  When he was steady on his feet, he ran his tongue over his teeth. All there. Thank goodness. He could regenerate most body parts, but teeth weren’t one of them. Once they were gone, they were gone. He knew more than one wolf who looked like a walking jack-o’-lantern.

  Asher prowled around him. “Want more, Telepath?”

  Not particularly. He could think of a lot more things he’d rather be doing right now.

  Another blow shot from out of nowhere. This time, it took him in the side. His rib snapped, and fire lanced his side. He stumbled sideways and went to one knee.

  Asher danced back. “A love tap,” he sneered. “Just to warm you up.”

  Remy struggled to his feet. He started to cradle his side, then caught himself and dropped his hand. Each breath sent flames shooting around his ribcage.

  “Want more?” Asher rolled his head on his neck. This was easy for him. His Gift made it possible for him to attack a wolf Remy’s size without breaking a sweat.

  How much easier it must have been for him to hurt Sophie.

  The pain in Remy’s side faded. He pulled on his wolf’s strength, drawing on the beast’s instinct to protect its mate. And Sophie was their mate. The wolf had known it from the beginning. It didn’t need a metaphysical ritual to make it official. The supernatural bond was already there.

  “Sophie is mine,” Remy growled out loud. His breath rattled. His rib must have punctured a lung.

  Asher narrowed his eyes.

  Remy’s head snapped to the side, blood spraying from his mouth. Drops spattered against the stone floor. The blow spun him in a half circle, and he staggered as he struggled to catch his breath. A fiery vise clamped his ribs, firing sparks through his midsection.

  “Sophie is mine!” He said it again. Blood bubbled on his lips. His vision went blurry.

  Again, a blow caught him—this time under the chin. His teeth slammed together, and his head rocked back. A high-pitched buzzing filled his brain. It was a familiar sensation, and he groped to figure out why he recognized it.

  Burnout.

  It was like the burnout he felt when speaking mind-to-mind fried his brain. The persistent buzzing was even more familiar because he’d just experienced it—when Sophie called out to him, blasting his skull with the force of a thousand voices.

  His vision cleared.

  Mental toughness.

  It counted for something.

  Asher smiled, clearly preparing to launch another invisible blow.

  Remy took a deep breath. He focused his thoughts, envisioning them as a single pinpoint. Then he blasted them outward. “SOPHIE IS MINE!”

  Asher staggered back, pain and confusion marring his features. He gave his head a shake, as if he could dislodge Remy’s voice from his brain.

  “SOPHIE IS MINE!” Remy screamed it directly into Asher’s brain.

  Asher winced, one hand flying to his head. “Stop it!”

  Remy advanced on him. “SOPHIE IS MINE! SOPHIE IS MINE!”

  “Stop it! Stop it!” Veins bulged in Asher’s neck. He stumbled backwards and almost fell. “Stop it, you freak!”

  “SOPHIE IS MINE! SOPHIE IS MINE! SOPHIE IS MINE! SOPHIE IS MINE!” Remy pummeled him. His wolf threw back its head and howled.

  Asher bent and vomited.

  “SOPHIEISMINESOPHIEISMINESOPHIEISMINESOPHIEISMINESOPHIEISMINESOPHIEISMINE.”

  Remy kept it up, blasting his mental voice like sonar in the ocean. Wave upon wave crashed into Asher’s unprotected brain. He couldn’t use his fists or his speed against Remy’s Telepathy. It was an adversary he could neither see nor touch.

  “SOPHIE IS MINE! SOPHIE IS MINE!”

  Asher collapsed. White foam coated his lips. He flopped on his back, his legs twitching. A damp patch spread over his crotch, and the sour stench of urine filled the air.

  Remy stood over him. “Sophie is mine.” Asher couldn’t hear him now, but it didn’t matter. Remy’s words weren’t for him anyway. “You’ll never touch her again.”

  The scent of vanilla hit his nose. A second later, Sophie stumbled to a stop beside him.

  “Oh my god! Remy, are you hurt?” She touched his jaw, her brown eyes huge. “Your face looks terrible.”

  He grabbed her hands and kissed them. “You should see the other guy.”

  She gave Asher a dispassionate glance. “He deserved it.” She looked up at him. “But how did you manage it?”

  “Same as Ralph Macchio.”

  Her brows pulled together. “The Karate Kid?”

  “Mental toughness. As it turns out, burnout can go both ways.”

  Comprehension dawned in her gaze. “You spoke into his mind.”

  “I told you I’m special.”

  She gave him the sweetest smile. “That you are, Remy Arsenault.”

  Samuel Gregory walked up to Asher’s body. “Is he dead?”

  Sophie faced her father. “No…I don’t think so.”

  He looked at Remy. “Will he recover?”

  “I don’t know.” Who cares? Remy sure as hell didn’t.

  Sophie’s father met her gaze. “This changes nothing, you know.”

  She let out a disbelieving gasp. “What?”

  He pointed at her. “I am your sire. Your actions reflect on me.” He looked at Remy. “And I won’t have my daughter screwing around with a Telepath.”

  Remy spoke. “A Telepath who just kicked your Finder’s ass. And she’s not screwing around.” Well, technically, that wasn’t accurate. They’d done plenty of screwing. But he had a feeling his brand of screwing differed from her father’s.

  “Funny,” Sophie said. “Ten minutes ago, you said I’m not your daughter.”

  Gregory blinked, the only time Remy had seen him non-plussed. But he recovered quickly. “My orders stand. Return home immediately or prepare for war.” He stepped around Asher’s body and started toward the stairs. The wolves by the cage streamed forward.

  Sophie practically quivered with rage. She turned and shouted at his back. “Can’t you just let me live in peace?”

  He stopped, swiveled his head, and spoke over his shoulder. “No one with power gets to live in peace, Sophie.”

  “Are you kidding?” She gulped a breath. “I’ve never had any power. I’m just a commodity to you, something to trade whenever you feel like it.”

  Her father turned all the way around. His eyes were wholly devoid of emotion. “Then let’s hope you like the next trade. You can be certain I’ll make sure it takes.”

  A metallic clicking sound echoed around the cavern. It took Remy a second to realize it came from behind him. He spun.

  Constance Gregory stood straight as an arrow, her arm extended. In her hand, she held a small, silver pistol. It was pointed directly at her husband.

  “Constance?” Samuel’s tone was a mix of anger and astonishment.

  “Let her go, Sam.”

  “Put the gun down.”

  Sophie’s mother didn’t so much as flinch. “Let her go. Let her find happiness like we did.”

  “She will,” he said. “When she completes the lux catena.”

  “It doesn’t have to be the same for everyone,” Constance said. “People can fall in love first.”

  Irritation rushed across Samuel’s face. “Not an Alpha’s daughter.”

  “How about just a daughter?” For a second, Constance’s composure cracked. “I’ve stood by you my whole life. I’ve supported you in everything. But tonight, I realized I was wrong to do that.”

  He looked stricken. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve treated our child like a possession, not a person. And she’s a person, Sam.” Constance looked at Sophie. “A beautiful, wonderful person.”

  At Remy’s side, Sophie drew in a shuddering breath.

  Constance focused on Sa
muel, and her voice hardened. “We can talk about this another time. Right now, I want your word that you will abandon this war. Let Sophie go, make peace with the New York Territory, and let everyone go home.”

  “You ask too much, Constance.”

  A tear ran down her face. “Please,” she whispered. “Please, Sam.”

  They stared at each other. For one brief, shimmering moment, Samuel’s expression eased. He gazed into his wife’s eyes, decades of love arcing between them.

  But then it all fell away. He shook his head. “I’m Alpha, Constance. I make demands. I don’t acquiesce to them. Not even from you.” He turned toward the stairs.

  A blast ripped through the cavern.

  Without thinking, Remy grabbed Sophie and shoved her to the ground, covering her body with his. Dust pelted them. His eardrums ached.

  Underneath him, Sophie shifted. Then she shoved against his chest, frantic. “Mom! Oh my god!”

  He released her. She scrambled to her feet, tripped, and half walked, half crawled to Constance, who sat on the ground, one leg underneath her. The gun was limp in her hand. Tears streamed down her face.

  Remy got to his feet. Wolves huddled around Sophie’s father. He lay on his back, a small, round circle in the center of his chest. It was so perfect it didn’t even look real. But then bright red seeped across his shirt.

  One of the wolves by his side lifted his head. “A Healer! We need a Healer!”

  Lizette broke free of Max’s arms and rushed over. She fell to her knees beside Sophie’s father. “I’m a Healer.”

  “Mom!” Sophie’s sob jerked his head around. She took the gun from her mother’s hand and flung it across the cavern. It clattered against the stone.

  Constance patted her cheek. “Sophie.”

  “Why?” Sophie shook her mother. “If he dies—”

  “I die too.” Constance pursed her lips. “I know how it works, honey.”

  Samuel coughed. His chest rattled. Lizette met Remy’s gaze. She shook her head. She was a powerful Healer, but not even she could restore a shattered heart. There was a reason werewolves abhorred guns. Human bullets were far deadlier than fangs and claws.

  “Sophie,” he said. She looked up. He made his voice as gentle as possible. “Your father.”

  She turned her head, taking in the scene behind her. At the same moment, her mother collapsed backward. Her head struck the ground with a sickening thud.