Sought by the Alphas Complete Boxed Set: A Paranormal Romance Serial

by Carina Wilder

  After a brief conversation, Lachlan invited Cynric to his tent to strategize.

  “Tell me what news you have for me,” said the alpha. “And tell me that it’s good.”

  “I hope you’ll find it so. I’ve amassed an army—a large one—for our purposes. I can have them in the area by sundown if you grant me leave to go fetch them, and warn your men that they mean no harm.”

  Lachlan studied the man for a moment. He was handsome, charming, but the dire wolf shifter didn’t sense anything nefarious in the flyer’s intentions, and Gwynne trusted him, it seemed. That was enough.

  “All right,” he said. “But have them spread out, rather than approach all at once. A giant flock of flyers is likely to draw attention. Bring a small party directly to me and I’ll assign them a task.”

  “Very good, my Lord,” said Cynric, bowing before turning to leave.

  “So you really do have faith in him,” said Lachlan. Gwynne had sat down next to him silently, assessing the plans.

  “I do. And even if I didn’t, I’m not sure what choice we have in the matter, Lachlan. We need all the help we can get.”

  “I agree. But I’m going to have to keep an eye on these flyers. After our experience with you, the attempt on your life…”

  Gwynne smiled. “Always protective, you are,” she said, laying a soft hand on his cheek. “Don’t worry about me. It was Lord Drake who sent the assassin, and my father has other plans now. Whether I live or die is the least of his concerns.”

  “I hope you’re right,” said Lachlan. “For now, I suppose we’re back to sitting and waiting. Again.”

  His wolf, like Rauth’s, thirsted for the blood of the enemy who had so wronged him and his family.

  * * *

  It was only a few hours later that Cynric returned in his déor form: a great golden eagle, larger than any flyer that Gwynne had ever seen, other than her own drake. There was something beautiful about his movements as he came in to land in the midst of the camp, and something equally wonderful about the fact that not one dire wolf growled or threatened to attack. A new peace was in place, it seemed; if only temporarily.

  With Cynric were six other flyers: hawks and eagles of various sizes and shapes.

  “Lord Lachlan,” shouted the flyers’ leader when a wolf shifter had brought him a robe to cover himself. “We await your orders.”

  Lachlan emerged from his tent where he had taken a much-needed nap, alert and ready for anything.

  “We’ll need surveillance most of all,” Lachlan said. “Your men need to scope out possible hiding spots. Anywhere that the Lord might be concealing himself and the children: an abandoned house, a cave, a dense brush. Anything. We will take over when you’ve returned with your findings and sniff him out, if necessary.”

  “Is there a particular location you have in mind?” asked Cynric.

  “There is one place that’s been difficult to access. It’s a man-made cave at the top of a cliff. The surrounding area isn’t protected by foliage, so my men haven’t been able to climb to its top without risking discovery. The cave is due east of here, some miles away. If your men could find a way to watch from high above…”

  “It’s already done,” said Cynric, turning to his men, who were still in their bird forms. “You heard him,” he said. “Spread out a little and let’s head out. Anyone who sees something, come signal me.”

  The birds let out shrill cries of assent before taking off skyward. Cynric threw off his cloak and joined them in flight, quickly gaining altitude. Daylight was already beginning to wane, but there were probably at least a few hours before the dark of night was to set in completely.

  “I hope to God that they find something,” said Gwynne, taking Lachlan’s hand and squeezing it hard. “Because I have no idea what I’ll do if they don’t.”

  Lachlan put his arm around her and pulled her close to his body. His always present heat seemed to have increased, and she could sense the tension in his form. All he wanted, she knew, was to keep his family intact.

  “We will find them. I’ll die if I need to, to make it happen,” he said.

  “I know you will. And for that, I love you.”

  * * *

  Dragon Queen 10

  The Barrow

  “How…what are you?” Rohan’s mouth sat agape as he stared at the creature his sister had become. As it turned slowly to face him, he tried to discern shapes within the flames that seemed to engulf her. Why wasn’t she crying out in pain? Why was she so calm?

  And then at last he saw it: a sort of face in the midst of it all, with bright, light eyes peering at him. A delicate crest sat on top of its neck and back, which seemed to arch backwards.

  She reached out, stretching long limbs—no, wings—to her sides, and moved towards him slowly, as though in an effort not to frighten her still human brother.

  The flames which engulfed her, unlike those of a fire, weren’t simple blotches of dancing red and orange, but rather blues, violet, even shades pink. Hot and cold, searing, cutting through the air. As Rohan watched her they seemed to die away, revealing more of her shape. She was like their mother: a drake. But not golden; her scales seemed to be of an infinite number of shades, reflecting the pale light that somehow still seemed to emanate from within her own body.

  Lilliana’s déor’s neck was long, like that of a swan. But her body was long, slender, and moved a little like that of a snake on legs. There was a grace to her that was like that of a bird in flight even as she glided across the floor.

  The déor approached slowly until she stood immediately in front of him, and Rohan felt heat pouring off her form. He’d sat in front of fireplaces before and felt the glow from their flames, but this was quite different. This heat seemed to move around him, to enfold him in careful wafts of air, almost as a sort of garment. She was controlling it.

  He smiled at her, his eyes wide, impressed, envious and admiring at once.

  “It’s amazing,” he laughed. “You’re…something I’ve never seen before.”

  In a flash, the light died away and the room was dark again. Rohan couldn’t see anything anymore; he felt as though he’d been temporarily blinded. But he could hear Lilliana as she ran away from him, giggling, and fetched her dress from the floor.

  “I didn’t know,” she said as she made her way back towards him. “I didn’t know if I could do it. But I thought that maybe…”

  “Did you know what you were going to change into?” he asked.

  “No. But I suspected. I spoke to Nana once about it, about her phoenix. She said that she thought maybe I’d be the same as her.”

  “So that’s what you are?” asked Rohan as his sister made her way back to him.

  “I’m not sure. What did I look like?”

  “Like a fiery sort of snake-dragon with a long neck and huge wings,” he said.

  “Maybe I’m a chicken,” laughed Lilliana. “Or a swan who’s caught fire.”

  “Maybe,” said her brother. “Well, anyhow, you’re something amazing. I need to catch up to you, somehow.”

  “We’ll work on you. But maybe for tonight we’ve done enough. If the Lord Drake comes back and finds us…”

  “You’re right, of course,” said Rohan.

  The two children tucked themselves into their makeshift bed, which consisted of some long, dried grass and a few blankets, and Rohan pulled the covers up to shield his sister from the air, which seemed to have gone very cold. Somehow, seeing her looking so powerful made him want to protect her even more than before.

  “We’re going to get out of here, Lily,” he whispered as he drifted off. “I know it.”

  * * *

  Dragon Queen 11

  Lachlan’s Camp

  “So your men tell me that the rumours are true.”

  Rauth had arrived at the camp with a small party at the crack of dawn. He’d found Lachlan having a quick breakfast in his tent, eagerly awaiting the shifters who’d been sent on their surveillance missi
on the day before.

  “Rumours, cousin?” asked Lachlan. “What is it, exactly, that you’ve heard?”

  “That you and Gwynne have gotten into bed with the enemy,” Rauth said. “You’re consorting with flyers now. This is what happens when I’m unable to be in two places at once, I see.”

  “Rauth, it was my doing,” said Gwynne, who’d heard of his arrival and was now standing in the tent’s doorway. “I met Cynric some time ago in Trekilling. He’s got a whole army of rebels set to take Drake down.”

  “Your doing, Gwynne? I don’t recall giving you the authority to make decisions in matters of war.” Rauth’s tone was icy cold, as though all feelings of affection had been stripped away. The man who had begun to show such signs of love was absent now; a shell of stone.

  “No? Well, this is a matter between a mother and her children. And by the way, it’s nice to see you too,” growled Gwynne as she stood and approached him. Much as she’d missed both her mates during their absence, she couldn’t hold back resentment towards Rauth for ensuring that their reunion wouldn’t be a pleasant one. “Get over yourself, alpha,” she continued. “You’re not going to tell me the best way to find my twins, when you’ve been out here in the wild for days with no progress. Unless you have a better plan, you’ll accept mine.”

  Before he could reply, she’d turned and stormed off in the direction of the woods. Rauth took a step to follow before appearing to change his mind. Lachlan, who was observing silently, perceived the pain on his cousin’s face.

  “Rauth,” he began. “You can’t keep doing this—this thing that you do. Forgetting that people have emotions. Driving them away from yourself.”

  “I sent you here to look for our young,” Rauth said, seeming not to hear or register the words as his eyes stared in the direction Gwynne had gone. “Not to turn our mate against me.”

  “Our young? Well, at least this is progress. Last I heard, they were yours alone,” Lachlan snarled. “And you’re quite skilled at turning Gwynne against you on your own. Listen to yourself, man. I feel genuinely sorry for you, if you can’t grasp what a destructive force you are in your own life. If you need me, I’ll be in the woods, hunting for signs of Drake.” He turned away before the other alpha could reply, leaving him just as their mate had done.

  Rauth found himself overwhelmed by an onslaught of emotion that hit him all at once, like a massive blow to the chest. He staggered out of the tent and stood quietly under the morning sky. Around him, shifters wandered through the camp, seeming not to notice their leader’s pain as he put a hand to his forehead, wondering how it had come to this; a sort of penetrating loneliness, something he’d only experienced once in his life.

  But this time, it was his own doing. And this time perhaps he had the power to repair it.

  * * *

  He found Gwynne in a small clearing, not far from the camp. She lay on the ground, staring up at the clear sky above her. Her breath was heavy, as though she were attempting to calm her heart.

  “Nature has always settled you down when you’re upset,” he said quietly as he approached.

  “Yes,” she replied. “When I’ve needed it it’s been there.”

  “Not so for me,” Rauth said. “Nature aggravates me, sends me into fits. My nature, at any rate.”

  Gwynne propped herself up on her elbows and looked at him. “Are you trying to be amusing? How dare you make excuses for your behaviour? All of us are animals. But we hold it together somehow while you let yourself go cold like a snake, a petulant child, pushing everyone away and erecting stone walls around your own heart, Rauth. It’s destroying us. At a time when I needed you—need you—you’re killing me.”

  “Did I ever tell you about my mother?”

  “What?” Gwynne’s voice rose to a yell. Why on earth was he bringing this up now? “No, Rauth. You’ve never told me anything about your youth. You’re a closed book, sealed with a giant lock. And I have no idea how or why your mother is relevant to any of what’s happening now.”

  The alpha approached and sat opposite Gwynne on the grass, staring into her eyes. His own shone bright blue, seeming to reflect the sky above as he focused on her face. His own face, normally stone-like in its handsome, square features, was softening as though in a sort of apologetic surrender.

  “When I was very young she died,” he said quietly. “Giving birth to what would have been my younger sister.”

  Gwynne’s face shot towards the ground as a new sorrow struck her. “I’m so sorry,” she said quietly, recalling the twins’ birth and what Rauth must have felt over the course of those hours when no one knew if she would live or die.

  He continued. “My mother and I had always been very close, and our relationship was affectionate and loving. Until then I had been an only child, though I admit that I was excited at the prospect of a sibling, a playmate. It’s possible that wolf shifters are even more in need of play than human children. But sibling or no, I wanted my mother with me always; she calmed me and she soothed the wolf within me, which even then was a fighter. Stubborn, dominant. My mother reminded me what it was to be human.

  “But the day she died I lost two people at once: the mother who had held me and told me that she loved me unconditionally and endlessly, and the sister who never came to be.”

  “And what happened then?” asked Gwynne. “Your father…? He was still alive, surely?”

  “My father, unfortunately, was very like me: stubborn, difficult. His attempts to be a proper alpha male meant that he pushed everyone away, except for my mother, whom he’d loved very much.” Rauth put a finger under Gwynne’s chin, lifting her green eyes once again to make contact with his. “As I love you.”

  His mate had so often been starved for these words, which were a calming force of their own; a reassurance, a drug. She knew that he felt it somewhere deep inside. But hearing him say it seemed to renew something within her, as though the acknowledgment of his feelings strengthened them both and filled her with hope.

  “My father would have done anything for my mother,” continued Rauth. “And when she died he tried his best, I think, to ask himself what she would have wanted for me. The charitable assessment is to say that he knew that he alone was not what I needed, and so he sent me to be a ward with another family. In my own mind, though, he rejected me, discarded me. I never saw him again after the day he pushed me out the door.”

  “Where did he send you?”

  “To live with Lachlan’s parents: my uncle’s family. Lachlan and I were about the same age, you see.”

  “I never knew this. Why did no one tell me?”

  “We’re somewhat secretive, in case you hadn’t noticed,” laughed Rauth bitterly. “Life with that family was not the life I was accustomed to. No one there proclaimed love for me. Though I resembled their son, Lachlan’s parents did not treat me like a second one. Rather, I constantly had to try to prove my worth, but always failed. He was their golden boy and I was an intruder.”

  “I’m surprised,” said Gwynne. “I would never have expected that, with the way that you two are now.”

  Rauth stood then and took a few steps then, his beast agitated inside him. “It’s not unusual among dire wolves to be skeptical of a virtual stranger entering a pack, and that’s essentially what I was doing. They wanted their son alone to hold power as he grew, and I was a threat to that. And in the end, I saw his father, my uncle, as a strong man—a man to be respected, emulated. He had a firm way about him; he was decisive and cold. He never showed weakness. Never showed his pain. I wanted to be like him, because it seemed so much better than the alternative.

  “And yet, Lachlan always saw something else in his father, and in me.” His voice was changing, softening as his face had done. “He treated me as a brother, without question, from the first day. He accepted me and loved me, and was never afraid to show it. And all his life he has approached our relationship with the attitude that his own life is intended to help mine be better.”


  Gwynne remained silent, taking in the words.

  “Yet I have been unfair to him,” Rauth continued as he bent to pull a long piece of grass from the ground. “I mimicked my uncle’s behaviour, and my own father’s. I pushed Lachlan from me, so hurt from the loss of my mother and sister that I couldn’t fathom growing attached to another person or shifter. It seemed like an entry into Hell to admit love and to expose myself again to the pain of loss. And if we take on Lord Drake, I may lose Lachlan, or you. Or our children. I nearly lost you once—I watched as you came so, so close to death—” He stopped for a moment to allow his voice to settle. “And you came back to me. I never want to relive that pain. But the only way I know how to avoid it is to shut my own heart down.”

  “Rauth—” Gwynne stood, wanting to reach out and comfort him. But he kept his distance, seeming to want to remain untouched for the time being.

  “I am ashamed now of all of it,” he said. “And I don’t know how to repair the damage. Gwynne, know that everything in me wants to save our children, to protect you. But my wolf tells me that he cannot share power with another man, regardless of how much affection I have for him. For Lachlan and me, our time together as attempted equals has come to an end. I don’t yet know what that means, but I need to prepare you for it.”

  He turned and walked away then, leaving his mate alone. She wished that she could mend him somehow and that she could save her family from the peril it was in. Even if they recovered their children, everything else, it seemed, was about to fall apart.

  * * *

  When at last she made her way back to the camp, Gwynne found Cynric and his flyers with Lachlan in the wolves’ largest tent, which served as a sort of strategizing chamber. The men were intently focused on a map which had been laid out on a large table, fingers pointing towards one common location.