The Werewolf’s Bride: The Pack Rules #1

by Michele Bardsley

  He yowled.

  “What the fuck!” Sara stood in the doorway, her shocked expression going from the prone half-wolf to me. “Oh, that’s it, you bitch. I’m fucking killing you.”

  She took a step toward me, murder in her eyes.

  Then she went flying forward. She rolled to her back, but before she could get up, Colt was beside her, his booted foot on her neck, his sword point digging into her chest. “Give me a reason, sweetheart.”

  Her expression was filled with rage, but she went utterly still.

  “Arabelle!” Grey strode in, all gorgeous fury, followed by a man the size of a linebacker. He wore his dark brown hair in a braid that went past his rear end, and he sported the same furious expression I associated with Neela. I could only assume this was the infamous and cold-hearted Kelt. Some very big wolves trotted in and began sniffing around, while Kelt joined Colt, his gaze pinned to Sara.

  Grey headed toward me, stopping only long enough to kick Rick in the side of the head. There was a sharp crack and his neck bent at awkward angle. The Blood Pack beta went limp, his eyes wide in a sightless stare.

  I wasn’t sorry to see him dead.

  Grey gathered me into his arms. “I thought I was too late.”

  “M-Mac gave me to them.”

  “I know.” He kissed me—my lips, my cheeks, my forehead, and my lips again. “He’s been dealt with.”

  “They said I killed the Blood Pack’s mate. Did I?”

  “Yes,” said Grey. “I didn’t know.” He cupped my face. His gaze searched mine. I saw his relief. I saw his concern. I saw his sincerity. I let go of my doubts about him, my worries that I had been, quite literally, tossed to the wolves at his behest. His thumb swept over my cheek, and he smiled. “Arabelle, please be aware that it’s extremely difficult to charge in and save you—when you keep saving yourself.”

  “Yes, I can see how bothersome that might be.” I melted into his embrace and cried.

  “It’s okay, babe. It’s okay.” He swept me up and cradled me close, while I sniffled into his designer shirt. He took me to an idling car and slid into the backseat. He refused to let me go, so I curled up onto his lap.

  “We’re going to Las Vegas—to the Drift Resort,” he told the driver. “My mate needs rest.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The car took off, and as we wound down the mountains, I finally felt safe. The tears stopped and I let myself be comforted by Grey’s steady heartbeat and secure embrace.

  Grey nuzzled my cheek. “The Drift Resort is a shifter property, and we have a private suite there. You’ll be able to eat and sleep—for as long as you want.”

  “What about jail?”

  “The pro tem enforcer leader re-examined the evidence and re-interviewed the witness. He decided there wasn’t enough proof to impute you for murder.”

  “Kelt,” I said. “Neela’s father. He freed me?”

  “Yes. He trains the enforcers, and he prefers that to leading them. He’s not interested in continuing in the role, but will stay until we find a replacement.”

  “Neela isn’t getting her job back?”

  “She did a piss-poor job of it, and she lets her emotions rule her actions.”

  “She’s in love with you.”

  “She thinks she’s is,” said Grey. “But she wouldn’t know love if it bit her on the ass. She’ll be taking a sabbatical. I’m sending her to the Earth Pack to find some goddamned Zen.”

  I laughed. “Oh, Grey.” I kissed him.

  He kissed me.

  And we did that for a while, and it was very, very nice.

  Finally, Grey pulled back. “We’ll be at the resort soon enough, sweetheart.” He had wolf eyes, filled with need, the same need that ached within me. “I want you so much. It’s like you’ve cast a spell on me.”

  “I have no magic,” I said.

  He leaned forward, as if to kiss me again, but I put a finger to his lips. “Tell me about Mac.”

  He sighed, but settled back. “Mac was approached by the Blood Pack’s asshole beta. He said if the Shadows handed you over for penance, the Bloods wouldn’t start a pack feud.”

  “Isn’t that something he should’ve discussed with you?” I asked.

  “Yeah. But he seemed to think I wasn’t capable of making a clear-headed decision since I seemed too enamored of your charms.”

  “He overstepped.”

  “He wasn’t wrong,” admitted Grey. “I wouldn’t have handed you over.”

  “It was an impetuous action,” I said. “Kidnapping me, I mean. He seemed more level-headed than that.”

  “I used to think so. But after admitting what he did and why, he clammed up. Now he’s sitting in a prison cell—the worst one I could find with only a cot and piss pot, which is more than he deserves.”

  I wondered. Rick was the puppeteer. And he had lots of puppets dancing on strings. He’d facilitated the kidnapping of Cody, so that Karen would have a meltdown. She’d been so focused on finding her mate that she wasn’t paying attention to her beta or to her pack. Rick also manipulated Mac, somehow, into handing me over to pay for Cody’s death. I wasn’t sure it was as simple as Mac would have Grey believe. It felt like Mac was still protecting Grey. Or maybe the beta was only protecting himself—and here I was trying to reconcile his betrayal into something more complicated than it actually was. Hmm. While I’d only had the displeasure of knowing Rick for a mere hour, I felt I understood him, at least a little. He seemed very enamored of pulling my strings, inviting me into a conversation designed to showcase his cleverness and stroke his ego.

  And there was something … something Rick had said that niggled at me. I closed my eyes and sifted through the conversation, stopping when I replayed the part about Cody’s kidnapping. Grey’s enforcers are extremely efficient, aren’t they? Cody gets free, shifts, and takes off. He’s tracked immediately.

  “Grey,” I said, opening my eyes. “Did Neela report the scruffer being loose in Bleed City?”

  “She was busy arranging the enforcer protection for the Choosing,” said Grey. “Kelt is the one who told us.”

  “How did he know?”

  “He was running training exercises that night. One of his recruits caught the scent.”

  “Oh, my God.” I sat straight up and grabbed my mate by the shoulders. “We have to go back, Grey. Right now.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Kelt,” I said urgently. “He was working with Rick. He kidnapped Cody. But Cody escaped before they could implement their plan. Kelt was tracking him, but I got to Mr. Sanders’ house first.”

  “Turn around,” barked Grey. “Get back to the cabin as fast as you can.”

  The driver executed a U-turn and stomped on the accelerator. We raced back up the mountain.

  “Why do you think Kelt helped Rick?”

  “Kelt is the only who could’ve kidnapped Cody and kept him under the radar in Shadow Pack territory. He trains the enforcers. Their loyalty is to him. This was about starting a pack war, Grey. They were going to kill Cody anyway and lay his death at your door. Karen doesn’t sound like the brightest bulb in the box, and Rick was a master manipulator. He knew exactly how to make her rage implode.”

  Grey frowned. “But you killed her mate. Goddamn it. That made the whole thing work better. They kill you, and I’m out for blood, too.”

  “Kelt knows it’s only a matter of time before you figure things out. He’s going to make a move.”

  “Colt’s in danger.” Grey slammed a hand against the passenger seat headrest. “Faster, damn it.”

  The driver increased speed, tires squealing as he took the wide turns. Grey settled me beside him, and we put on our seatbelts. I held his hand tightly, holding on to the slim hope that we would not be too late.

  Thirteen.

  WE ARRIVED AT the cabin where I’d been held captive less than an hour before. I must admit that I felt reluctant to leave the safety of the car, no matter how thin such protection might be again
st enemy werewolves.

  Grey kissed me—a quick, soft meeting of the lips—and the gesture bolstered my courage. I followed him out of the Mercedes, and he clasped my hand as we walked around the car. We paused, both of us studying the cabin. Despite Grey’s protective presence, I shivered with trepidation.

  Too dark.

  Too still.

  Too empty.

  In the pit of my belly, foreboding beat like a dying man’s heart.

  The driver of our car exited. He looked around, hyper-alert as he scanned the area. He stripped off his tie and jacket and put the items on the Mercedes’ hood. My mouth dropped open as he began unbuttoning his shirt.

  “Sam! Do not shift in front of my bride,” snapped Grey. “Start your search in the woods. Let me know if you catch anyone’s scent.”

  Sam glanced at me, his expression one of chagrin. “My apologies,” he said. Then he strode into the trees just a few feet away.

  Werewolves didn’t have the same hang-ups that humans did about nakedness. They were perfectly comfortable in both their forms. It would probably take me a while to get used to their unabashed attitudes, so I was grateful for Grey’s intervention with Sam’s impromptu striptease. I must admit, however, that I very much admired Grey’s naked form—and looked forward to seeing him in his birthday suit again.

  “Do you think Colt’s in the cabin?” I asked. While I had not known Grey’s brother for very long, I liked him. He’d been kind and funny and protective. I was terrified we would find his murdered body.

  “There’s only one way to find out, Arabelle.” Grey lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. He let go of me, took a few steps forward, lifted his head, and sniffed at the air.

  He started running.

  Still in my torn and dirty blue silk nightgown—and barefoot as well— I ran, too. The gravel bit into the soles of my feet, but I didn’t care.

  Other than being born a shifter, I could have no deeper connection to the Shadow Pack than being married to the alpha. To be worthy of that honor, I had to be brave. I had to face every situation head-on, no matter how scared or awful I felt inside.

  Please don’t be dead, Colt.

  I could only surmise that Grey sensed no danger nor had he detected active werewolves nearby because he bounded onto the porch and flung open the door to the cabin.

  I followed him inside.

  The only light came from a lamp that had fallen onto its side. The bulb flickered, its sickly electric pulse the only sound in the hideous quiet. The evidence of a knock-down, drag-out fight was obvious, even in the dimly lit space.

  Near the hearth lay two large carcasses. I recognized the werewolves that had accompanied Kelt and Grey during my rescue. Given the amount of blood and the gaping wounds in their necks and bellies, it was obvious they were dead. Rick’s corpse was covered with debris caused by the raucous battle.

  My human eyes were decidedly weak compared to the alpha’s preternatural vision. It took a few moments for my eyesight to adjust to the inky interior. Grey surveyed the room, and then pointed. “There.” He hurried to the shadowed corner on the right side of the kitchenette, and I followed closely, heart climbing into my throat.

  A massive wolf with gold-brown fur lay on the floor. Blood matted his beautiful coat, and though I could see his chest moving with breath, with life…it was a jagged, uncertain stuttering.

  “Grey,” I said, all my hope and worry contained in his name.

  The alpha knelt next to his brother and examined him. “He’s weak. He won’t be able to shift.” He looked up at me, and I saw his fears for Colt. Beneath that familial anxiety, though, I saw terrible fury. I had no doubt that Kelt—and any foolish soul who stood with him—would feel the full wrath of the Shadow Pack’s alpha.

  “It’ll take too long to get him to a Shadow Pack healer.” I could tell Grey was trying to keep his voice strong, his manner steady. Yet, the dread of losing his brother, his best friend, could not be hidden entirely.

  “Can you carry him to the car?” I asked. “We’ll take him to the nearest vet.”

  “What?”

  “We can’t haul him into a hospital and announce he’s a wounded shifter. Unless there’s a shifter healer nearby?”

  He shook his head. “The Blood Pack is the closest werewolf community and they wouldn’t help even if we were on good terms. They’re a bunch of scruffer assholes. Besides, they don’t have healers.”

  “Sir.”

  We looked over our shoulders and saw Sam standing in the cabin’s doorway, buttoning up his shirt. “There’s no one out there. They must’ve left in cars because I didn’t catch any scents around the cabin. Is that Colt?”

  “Yeah. He’s bad,” said Grey. “Call the compound. Tell them to batten down the hatches. If Kelt shows up there, I want him taken and imprisoned—him and every single one of his followers.”

  Sam nodded and pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. Our only sentinel turned and faced the outdoors, no doubt continually scanning for any signs of unfriendly shifters.

  “Do you think Kelt has enforcers on alert at the compound?” I whispered. “He seems to be the prepared type.”

  “If it was me, that’s what I would do. He’s taking advantage of the Choosing. He knew I would be distracted, and he knew the compound’s security would be stretched thin. Humans and werewolves attend the celebrations hosted by families welcoming new brides. Damn it! He must’ve been planning this coup for months.” Grey blew out a frustrated breath. “Kelt is cold, ruthless, and organized. It’s why he made a good enforcer.”

  “And no doubt why he believes he’ll make a good alpha,” I said.

  “The hell he will.” The furious passion infused into Grey’s words created within me a deep sense of pride. I believed in Grey, and in what he could accomplish as the alpha. Yes, I was proud to be his, though we were certainly experiencing a trial by fire on our first day as a married couple.

  “Do you think Neela is involved?” I asked. “She was the enforcer leader. She could’ve ensured Kelt had the time and space needed to put his plan into action.”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “My gut says she isn’t, but ten minutes ago, I would’ve said the same thing about Kelt.”

  I couldn’t imagine the depth of betrayal Grey felt at this moment. The closest I could get was the spiraling sense of grief and shock when I learned of my sister’s suicide. Her death had been a betrayal, too. But even though my sister had forsaken her own life and shifted the course of mine, what Kelt had done to Grey, to the Shadow Pack, was far, far worse.

  “Sir. No one’s answering at the compound. I can’t get hold of the Betas or anyone else I’ve tried, including my own mother.”

  “He’s taken it then.” Grey’s handsome face shifted, and for the barest moment, I saw silvery-gray fur, long snout, animal eyes, bared teeth. He slammed his fist on the ground, and the wolf disappeared. “Fuck!”

  I grabbed Grey’s shoulder. “Who do we trust?”

  “Good question. Right now, the only three people I trust are in this room with me and one of ‘em is near death.” He scooped Colt into his arms and stood up. “Let’s get him to the vet. Then we’ll decide what to do next.”

  Sam led the way out of the cabin. Halfway to the car, I remembered Colt’s sword. I knew instinctively that he wouldn’t want to be without it. A sword seemed a unique weapon, one that was an extension of personality as well as armament. I whirled around and ran back toward the cabin.

  “Arabelle!”

  “One minute!”

  I shoved through the door, adrenaline and fear twining around my heart like choking vines. My heart squeezed and squeezed as I kicked away debris and dug through shredded furniture and bloodied cushions. I hated being in this room with its bad memories and dreadful carnage. I rummaged near the hearth, peering through what used to be the couch when I caught a dull gleam by one of the dead werewolves.

  Lodged beneath the large carcass was Colt’s sword. Col
t must’ve killed them with his blade before shifting into a werewolf. He would’ve been attacked by what … three werewolves? Four? If Sara was part of the plot, Kelt had probably released her so she could help kill Colt.

  I saw the black scabbard discarded near the bed. That was probably where Colt had transformed—and by the state of the tattered clothes nearby, he’d transformed quickly.

  I tucked the scabbard under my arm. Then I grabbed the sword’s handle and lifted it. The blade was lighter than I had assumed and I managed to carry it upright, like I was holding a flag. When I got to the car, Sam took the sword and its leather holder from me. The back door was opened, and Grey waited patiently, holding tightly to the wounded werewolf.

  I scurried inside. Grey bent down, and with me holding Colt’s massive shoulders and scooting backwards, we managed to get the huge wolf somewhat settled onto the leather seat. His big head rested in my lap. His breathing was so ragged, I worried every shuddering breath could be his last.

  Sam put the sword and scabbard in the trunk, and then he and Grey got into the front. Within seconds, we were flying down the mountain, tires squealing, and Grey cursing.

  I clutched at Colt and prayed.

  * * *

  “GOTTA LOVE VEGAS,” said Grey as we pulled into the parking lot of a 24-hour veterinary emergency clinic. “Sam, get the car gassed up and meet us back here. We’re going straight to Bleed City after we get Colt taken care of.”

  With my help, Grey wrestled Colt out of the car. I felt utterly ridiculous striding into the clinic clad only in a dirty silk nightie, my arms and legs bruised from the battering my body had taken over the last couple of days. I could only imagine the state of my hair.

  A woman in pink scrubs stood behind the glass check-in counter. She was tall and lithe, her skin the color of cinnamon-flecked cream. Her blonde hair was done up in a French braid. I felt like I was looking at the Swiss Miss featured on those hot chocolate packets. When she saw us, she didn’t blink. It was Las Vegas, after all, the city of the strange and unusual.