The Werewolf’s Bride: The Pack Rules #1

by Michele Bardsley

  He will never be alpha, I assured myself.

  I wanted to barrel outside and make sure Grey was still alive, but I managed to calm myself enough to slow down and stop at one of the floor-to-ceiling windows near the entrance. I leaned the sword against the wall and peeked out the glass pane.

  A group of werewolves in both human and wolf forms stood on one side of the library’s rock-strewn garden. On the other side were two men taking swings at each other.

  Grey and Kelt.

  My husband was leanly muscled and fast. He ducked, punched, whirled away. Kelt was clumsier—perhaps because he was heavier, older, or maybe just exhausted. He’d had a busy day of being a complete and utter asshole.

  If Kelt’s battered face was any indication, Grey was winning. Hope trilled in my heart. How soon would this be over? Did alphas fight to the death or just until one knocked the other out?

  I didn’t know.

  Movement caught my eye and I tracked it to a blue flutter near an oversized cactus plant. A blonde head poked up—and I immediately recognized Cacie Lynn.

  She held a gun.

  Her arms were steady. Her gaze locked onto Grey. She was waiting for the perfect shot. Once her own lover moved out of the way, she would kill my husband.

  I grabbed my sword. I couldn’t bust out there because my sudden presence might distract Grey enough to get shot.

  I flew across the library, to the far right side. There was a side entrance, one I only knew about because as a little girl I liked “sneaking” into the library. Carolyn and I pretended to be spies who needed to find our enemy’s secrets—which were usually tucked into the books we checked out.

  Mr. Sanders had started locking the entrance after one too many teenagers used it to sneak inside and put their overdue books onto the shelves without paying the fines. What can I say? Bleed City bred more than its fair share of book nerds. Ruffian behavior in children or adults was unusual. A run-in with a Shadow Pack enforcer curbed any of those tendencies.

  I unlocked the metal door and eased out. My heart pounded so hard it pulsed in my throat and banged in my eardrums. I could only think about stopping Cacie Lynn before she had a chance to use that gun.

  Neela’s boots were loose on my feet, but I’d gotten used to their weight. I reached the edge of the building, my gaze seeking out Cacie Lynn. She was still huddled behind the cactus, her gun aimed at the fighting men, waiting for the opportune moment to kill Grey.

  I only had seconds.

  I rushed across the garden, coming up behind Cacie Lynn. She heard me, of course, as did everyone else in the area. But my focus was on the blonde betrayer who’d been part of this whole mess from the start.

  Cacie Lynn’s expression was one of pure hatred, her sweet face only a façade for her true nature.

  She whipped her arms up and the gun went off, but I whacked her on top of the head with the flat side of the blade. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped over.

  “Arabelle!”

  Grey’s voice sounded far away. Further than it should have. I walked toward him, him and Kelt who both stared at me strangely. I guess there wasn’t such a thing as time-out in a werewolf fight because I watched Kelt bunch up his fist and aim it at Grey’s head.

  I don’t know how I reached them before he landed that punch, but I did and I kicked Kelt in the shins with my steel-toed boot. He went down yowling. Then I raised the blade and brought it down.

  The sword missed his skull, but sliced through his long, brown ponytail. He screamed like I’d actually stabbed him. I don’t think I really meant to decapitate Kelt, but I was getting sick and tired of him hurting people I loved.

  “Does cutting off werewolf hair hurt?” I asked Grey, befuddled by Kelt’s odd reaction. The man was grabbing at the hair now scattered across the ground like it was strands of gold.

  “Shadows wear their hair long as a sign of strength. Getting it cut off by an enemy is the ultimate insult.”

  Good. I hoped Kelt choked on his defeat.

  I felt suddenly, unaccountably tired. I was sweating, too, particularly on my left side. I slid my hand down my T-shirt, frowning when it came away red. “How very strange,” I said. The words tripped over my tongue.

  “Sweetheart.” Grey scooped me into his arms. “You’ve been shot.”

  “Oh.” I looked at him, but blackness edged my vision and his face went all blurry.

  As Grey turned to walk away, Kelt snarled and bounded to his feet. I opened my mouth to shout at Grey, but before I could utter a warning, a coffee-brown werewolf appeared like a wraith. Neela. She grabbed Kelt’s leg and jerked him off his feet.

  Other werewolves joined her. After a moment, I couldn’t see Kelt at all as the wolves snarled and snapped. He screamed as they tore at his flesh, but I had no empathy.

  None at all.

  Grey didn’t even turn around. He strode away, obviously confident in pack justice.

  “We won, right?”

  “Yes, Arabelle. We won.”

  Those were the last words I heard.

  * * *

  I DREAMED OF the ocean. I’d never seen the Pacific—never gone outside the borders of Nevada—yet I stood on the beach, my toes digging into cool, wet sand. Night clung to the water and to the sky, clutching both in slippery black folds. A curl of moon hung in the midnight sky, the only light in an otherwise stygian world.

  I walked into the ocean sedately. The water covered my calves, my hips, my waist. I felt at peace. Buoyed by its strength. Its unaccountable warmth.

  As the water hit my shoulders and my feet left the sand, I heard him.

  “Arabelle!”

  I felt pulled in two directions. One toward the horizon. The other toward shore.

  I tread water, considering.

  Forward—into the ocean, into the arms of God.

  Backward—to the shore line, into the arms of man.

  One man.

  Grey.

  * * *

  MY EYES FLUTTERED open. As I looked around the room, I wondered if I’d died and gone to heaven. A very luxurious heaven that had big, dark furniture, gold and brown accents, comfortable bedding—and was that a chaise? Beyond that, I saw a huge hearth with bookshelves all around it.

  “Arabelle.”

  I turned my head. Grey lay next to me. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. I reached out and touched the hair that had sprouted along his cheeks and chin. “You grew a beard in a day? How often do you werewolves have to shave?”

  He choked out a laugh. “You’ve been unconscious for nearly two weeks. I’ve had doctors, healers—hell, I even called Lisa Pearson to come look at you.”

  “But I’m not a werewolf.”

  “You are the best werewolf I have ever known.” He kissed my lips, my cheeks, my forehead, even my eyelids. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  “What happened?”

  “Cacie Lynn shot you.”

  “I whacked her with Colt’s sword.” I gasped. “Colt!”

  “He’s fine. He came through surgery like a champ. He’s been back here for almost a week, driving me crazy, as usual.”

  “I would like to see him. I owe him an apology for using his sword wrong.”

  Grey chuckled. “You used it exactly right.”

  My head throbbed, and my side was really quite sore.

  “My parents? Aunt Lila?”

  “Everyone’s fine. There were tunnels hidden under the elder’s house. She took everyone out that way. Cacie Lynn is in prison awaiting tribunal.”

  “Kelt is dead.”

  “Yes. The pack took care of that.”

  “I cut off his hair,” I said. “I didn’t mean to.” I glanced at Grey. “I think I was aiming for his head.”

  “That act was enough to denigrate him in the eyes of the pack. Our hair is important. Keeping it long is part of our tradition, part of our belief in the old gods. It represents our strength. It’s like your Samson and Delilah story.”

  “I
cut off his hair … and he lost his strength?”

  “It was the ultimate symbol of his defeat.”

  I was glad that Kelt was dead, and out of our lives. “How is Neela?”

  “She’s … Neela. After Kelt was defeated, Mac took off. I have enforcers looking for him, but I doubt we’ll find him.”

  “I don’t think Mac was a good person.”

  “Nor was he a good werewolf,” agreed Grey.

  “I’m not sure Neela is a good person, either.”

  “We’ll see,” said Grey. “She’s young. Impulsive. Ruled by her anger.”

  “She has daddy issues.”

  He smiled. “That, too. She’s still taking sabbatical to the Earth Pack. She needs to learn patience.”

  I couldn’t say that I liked Neela all that much, but maybe given time we could learn not to snarl at each other too much. She’d shown her true loyalties, and for that, I would always be grateful.

  “I’m tired, Grey.” I yawned. “By the way, where are we?”

  “This is our bedroom.”

  “Sweet mercy! It’s amazing.”

  “Wait until you see the rest of our place,” he murmured. “I’ll show you the compound. I’ll show the whole world, Arabelle. Just please stay with me.”

  “I’m right here,” I said.

  “You left for a while.” He looked at me. “I’m in love with you.”

  “I’m in love with you, too,” I said.

  “I thought as much—after you took a bullet for me.”

  “That’s what wives do for their husbands.”

  “When you’re better, I’ll reward you probably.” His gaze turned wicked then he gave me smacking kiss. “Rest now, sweetheart.”

  “Okay.” I settled into his embrace, resting my head against his chest, the beat of his heart my very own lullaby.

  It is a wonderful thing, I tell you, to be loved by the alpha.

  ***The End***

  Keep reading for a Sneak Peek at #2 in The Pack Rules series: Taken by the Werewolf Triplets…

  Taken by the Werewolf Triplets

  The Pack Rules #2

  “I refuse.” Echo Velmont stood before the Elders, who were the ruling Council of the pack, and stared at them with her back straight and head held high. In the cavern where legend proclaimed the first pack members were born, with torchlight dancing on its craggy walls and incense smoke wafting through the dank air, she’d waited impatiently for these fools to pronounce her punishment.

  But she had not expected to be the her pack’s tribute.

  No, its sacrifice.

  Elder Magnus, the Council’s leader and the most supercilious of the three men passing judgment, smiled indulgently. “You have outlived three husbands in a short amount of time. Worse, you have no children to show for those matings. You are not fulfilling your duties to the pack.”

  “Duties given to me for no other reason than I am female.”

  He rasped a chuckle. “If men had wombs, we would do the same. Alas, our contribution is far simpler than yours. But you get much in return, Echo.”

  Except freedom. She could not choose what she wanted for her own life because the pack needed her to churn out pups. Her own mother had died giving birth to her fifth child -- to Echo. She had never known the softness of a mother, but being raised by warriors had made her tough. She didn’t cry — she handed you your ass. Her upbringing had also made her long for a life she could never have -- unless she wanted to give up the pack, including her family. She wasn’t a wuss by any means. However, werewolves without a pack were vulnerable to things, and to creatures, she didn’t even want to contemplate. She chafed at the constraints of the pack’s expectations, but she wasn’t an impulsive fool, either. Most of the time.

  Her father had passed away last year. Her brothers were all married and their mates were either pregnant or raising their young. Despite having shaped her from childhood with their own warrior ways and manly attitudes, they did not understand her refusal to act like every other insipid female that lived within their community.

  She stared straight ahead. “I have married as pack law demanded.”

  “And purposely avoided pregnancy.” Elder Magnus shook his head. “You knew there would be punishment for this transgression.”

  “So honoring the Daughter of Man is punishment?”

  Elder Magnus’s face flushed red. The two other council members had the grace to look away. They cleared their throats, and looked down as if studying the paperwork on the table. Bastards.

  “Of course the representation of the… the female in our rites is a great honor. This is your opportunity to make up for your failures. You must show the pack you are worthy of its protection.”

  “And if I get pregnant?”

  “No female has ever gotten pregnant,” he said, “but if you do, you know that it means great blessings upon us.”

  Genetic mutations and species evolution offered better explanations for werewolves. But no, the Winter Pack honored the arcane belief that three wolf brothers, River, Stone, and Ash, fucked a random human and managed to impregnate her at the same time. Six months later, she popped out three werewolves: red, black and blonde, which became the three accepted werewolf branches of the Winter Pack. Mostly, the Winter Pack tended to ignore that there were other packs outside of it. It was almost like the Elders refused to believe any other shifters existed, and that belief was easy to justify since the Winter Pack occupied remote areas in Alaska and Canada. They eschewed human contact. Although, she had heard of the River pack taking in werecat shifters who had raised one of their orphaned wolves.

  In any case, the ruling three of the Winter Pack branches, who had more authority than even the Elders passing judgment on her now, insisted that the legend be re-enacted every twenty-five years. This time, it was the duty of her pack, the descendants of Stone, to put on the show.

  “You will, of course, be generously compensated.”

  Surprise fluttered through Echo. The Elders were switching tactics. This was no longer a punishment, but a favor? Uneasiness clamored through her.

  “What would this generosity include?” she asked.

  “The Alphas have authorized a… a stipend for your time and… er, effort.”

  “Stipend?”

  “One hundred thousand dollars… so long as you fulfill the entire obligation of the festival rites.”

  Echo looked at the floor so she wouldn’t give away her shock. “And how much of that will be tithed to the pack?”

  “None,” said Elder Magnus. He sounded as though he were chewing on rocks. “The entire amount is yours to do with as you wish. In addition, you will be granted singulus licentia.”

  Her shock deepened. So, the Alphas were offering her money. And the Elders of Stone were offering her what she wanted most -- freedom. Under singulus licentia she would never have to marry or procreate, and she would retain the protection of the pack. It was a rare designation, often given to females who became priestesses or healers.

  All she had to do was prostitute herself for a week.

  Well, how was that any different than allowing the Elders to arrange her marriages, none of which had lasted a year due to the untimely deaths of her mates?

  Her first husband had been nice enough, but rarely took her to bed. He preferred men, and though the pack didn’t forbid gay relationships, he hadn’t wanted it known. She’d kept the secret, even after he drowned trying to save the lover who’d gotten caught in a riptide. Her second husband had been an older man, who enjoyed fellatio more than intercourse. She wasn’t opposed to blowjobs, but he did not like to reciprocate. It had been a very dissatisfying relationship. They’d only been married a couple of months when he died of a heart attack. Her third husband died mere days after their wedding night. He had a terrible temper and liked his drink. A bar brawl ended with him stabbed in the heart with a silver blade.

  After three dead husbands and her apparent barrenness, no one wanted to mate with her -- an
d that suited Echo just fine. Too bad the council found out about her birth control.

  “Echo?” asked Elder Magnus.

  She realized she’d been peering at the gleaming stone floor too long. Her sex life thus far had been unremarkable. She had dutifully married all the men the Elders deemed. She had never been in love, never hoped to find an equal partner. Maybe the sex would be good. Maybe her lovers would be kind. And then she would be free -- and rich.

  “I want it in writing,” she said, lifting her gaze to the Elders. She looked each man in the eye. “If I agree to be the pack’s whore, I want your written promise I shall be free to live as I choose and will always have the protection of the pack.”

  “You shall have it, Echo.” He looked at the other members of the Council. “As is dictated by the Alphas, you must spend one evening with each representation of our wolf fathers. In four days’ time, on the night of the full moon, you will mate with the Three Brothers at the pinnacle of our festival.”

  She hadn’t realized the festival rites would be enacted so quickly. Either they hadn’t planned ahead, which was ridiculous, or she was a replacement for the previously approved Daughter of Man. Elder Magnus had tried to make her accept the role as punishment, then as reward. And she was probably standing here because she was the only female they had any sway over. Assholes. She stifled the urge to punch all the Elders in their fat, loathsome heads. Argh!

  “Prepare what you need,” said Elder Magnus. “You leave tonight.”

  Learn More About Taken by the Werewolf Triplets!

  The Pack Rules Series

  •#1 The Werewolf’s Bride

  •#2 Taken by the Werewolf Triplets

  •#3 The Werewolf Billionaires

  •#4 The Werewolf Bodyguard

  •#5 Kidnapped by the Werewolf / Her Alpha Mate

  •#6 Two Alphas and a Lady

  •#7 Bear Witness

  •#8 The Dragon's Wife