The Fallen Cross Pack Series: Boxset 1-4

by Aliya DalRae

  Now Ashwood had taken it upon himself to guide the inimical group, and Patrick was fairly certain there was another Challenge in the works.

  He knew the Dumbasses, though, had studied them thoroughly when he was playing at being submissive. Any Challenge coming from them would result in that wolf losing his life. Patrick would be forced to kill again, and he resented the hell out of it.

  When he reached the full moon clearing, Ashwood was standing in the center, his four cohorts forming a half-circle behind him as he held a silver-bladed knife to Poppy’s throat.

  Patrick’s friend was standing perfectly still in an effort to avoid contact with the silver, but the scowl he wore was more irritation than fear. Patrick knew the old wolf well enough to understand how pissed he must have been at being caught unawares by the likes of Bobby Ashwood.

  “You okay?” Patrick addressed Poppy, ignoring the Dumbasses as a blatant sign of disrespect.

  “I’m fine,” Poppy growled, rolling his eyes. Patrick contained the chuckle that rose in his throat, but wasn’t as successful at hiding the smile.

  “Something funny, Alpha?” Ashwood snarled, and Patrick let the smile broaden.

  “You really don’t know when to give up, do you?” Patrick said. “Any of you. Why don’t you stop this nonsense, swear your allegiance to the Pack, and come home?” Not really what Patrick wanted, but he would accept them, would accept any wolf, if he felt they could be trusted.

  “Fuck you,” Ashwood snarled, as the Dumbasses shifted on their feet behind him. “I’ll never bow to your bullshit. This Pack will be mine soon enough.”

  And there it was. Not quite a formal Challenge, but his intentions were now out in the open. Patrick folded his arms across his chest and rested his weight on one leg.

  “You care to make that official?” Patrick asked, adding a bored yawn for effect.

  The subordinate Dumbasses mumbled amongst themselves, but Patrick had Ashwood’s attention. “You know I don’t have the artifact,” he said after a moment’s hesitation.

  “That can be arranged as well,” Patrick said as he casually studied his fingernails.

  “Or I could just kill you and this murdering cur here and now.” Patrick heard the hiss of silver against skin as Ashwood pressed the knife to Poppy’s neck.

  Patrick stood to his full height, and drew on the power of the Alpha wolf inside him. “Let him go, Bobby. I’m only going to say it once.”

  “And I’m only gonna kill him once.”

  Ashwood drew the knife across Poppy’s throat, then pushed the man toward Patrick in a stream of scarlet. Patrick ignored both the flash of silver that glinted in the moonlight, and the Dumbasses who were ripping away clothing as their bodies began to change.

  “No!” Patrick felt a sting in his shoulder as he lunged for Poppy, catching him before he hit the leaf-strewn ground. Poppy clutched at his throat, his eyes wide as he choked on the blood that seeped through his fingers. A normal injury like that might not have been lethal, but Ashwood had used silver.

  Poppy grabbed Patrick’s shirt to draw his attention, and when their eyes linked he stared at Patrick hard, then mouthed the words, “Kill them all.” Poppy’s hand fell to his side, and in the blink of an eye, Patrick’s friend and mentor was gone.

  “You stupid son of a bitch,” Patrick growled as he tore his clothes from his body in a fit of fury and grief.

  The Dumbasses were already halfway through the change, but Patrick paid them no mind. His shifts weren’t anywhere near as fast as those of a born wolf. Still, his power was such that he would have plenty of time to call his wolf and destroy these creatures who continued to threaten the well-being of his new Pack.

  Today, however, his wolf was angry, and the change came upon him faster than even he expected, leaving Patrick standing strong, his silver fur flashing in the light of the nearly full moon.

  Ashwood was still lying on the ground, panting out his recovery when Patrick’s jaws locked on his throat, biting through muscle and sinew, thick blood filling his mouth as he ripped and tore at his opponent’s neck.

  Ashwood was down, but that wasn’t enough. Patrick continued to tear at his lifeless body, ripping it apart, stripping away fur and meat from the creature’s bones.

  The sound of the others gaining their feet was lost to him, and it wasn’t until he felt fangs in his hip that he gave them any thought.

  He twisted away from the attacker, putting a large pine tree at his back. With his spine arched and his hackles raised, he peeled his lips back in a fierce snarl, bearing his fangs at the four wolves forming a semi-circle around him.

  For you, Poppy, I’ll kill every last one of them.

  Patrick gathered his haunches beneath him and launched himself at the nearest Dumbass. Claws flew and teeth gnashed, as he fought the inferior beast before him. He was prepared for the others to attack, certain this would be more of a gang beating than a fair fight, but the strike never came.

  As he dragged his claws into the underbelly of his opponent, he became aware of the fighting going on around him. Butch had arrived, the moon catching the silver streaks in his otherwise black coat as he launched his enormous form at two of the Dumbasses while David’s grey wolf took on the remaining foe.

  When it was over, two of Devaris’ former lackeys lay dead in the full moon clearing, the remaining three having wisely chosen to tuck tail and run.

  Chapter Eight

  M aggie had raced to the window and watched as Patrick strode off alone into the forest. She stood there for a while, hoping to see something of what the problem was, or to see Patrick return. When nothing happened, she turned to her babysitter.

  “Who are the Dumbasses?” she asked Nadia, but the woman was in no shape to converse. Her eyes were still glowing that unnatural yellow, and she continued to pant in spite of having been there long enough to have recovered from whatever sprint she had performed.

  “Are you okay?” Maggie asked, but Nadia just shook her head and held up a finger in the universal sign for “give me a minute.”

  Maggie sat down on the edge of the bed, unwilling to sit in the chair where Patrick had held her captive for his little show. Struggling for patience, she waited for Nadia to…do whatever it was that Nadia was going to do.

  It took some time, but eventually the medic’s eyes returned to a normal brown and she sat down in the vacant chair to catch her breath.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Maggie asked.

  Nadia shook her head. “That’s okay. I’m better now.” She dragged her hand through her shaggy brown hair and blew out a breath. “That was a close one.”

  “What was close?”

  “I damn near shifted right here in the cabin. Alpha would have been good and pissed about that. Especially after he asked—no demanded—that I take care of you.

  Nadia’s eyes flashed yellow again, but almost instantly returned to normal.

  “Shit,” she said. “He’s in trouble.”

  “Patrick?”

  “Yeah. Damn it. If I leave you he’ll kill me, but he can’t kill me if he’s dead.”

  “What are you talking about?” Maggie cried. “Someone’s trying to kill Paddy?”

  “Someone’s always trying to kill Paddy,” Nadia snarled, her emphasis on Maggie’s pet name for Patrick not going unnoticed.

  “Well, shouldn’t you do something?”

  Again with the “wait a minute” finger as Nadia ran to the phone. “Butch, Nadia. Full moon clearing. Now. I’m calling David. Just go.”

  She made another similar call, this time to David, whoever that was, then stopped by the fridge to grab a pop before returning to the chair. She pulled the tab on the can and took a long drink before resting the can on her knee. “Guess I was thirsty after all.”

  Maggie was incredulous. “That’s it? You tell me someone is trying to kill my husband, then you make two phone calls and sit down for a Coke and a smile?”

  “Alpha gave me an order, and
I’ll be damned if I’m not going to follow it.” Her eyes flashed again, and she shook her head as they returned to normal.

  “Why do your eyes keep doing that?”

  “What, the flashing?” Maggie nodded and Nadia shrugged. “It’s the Pack connection. When the Alpha is upset or fighting, it affects us all. I could block it, but then I wouldn’t know what was going on. This way I can…Son of a bitch…”

  Nadia grabbed her chest and fell from the chair, the can of pop landing with a thud and rolling across the bare wood floor, leaving a trail of brown foam in its wake. Maggie ran to her side to try and help, but when the woman looked up she was crying.

  “Nadia? Has something happened to Patrick?”

  Nadia shook her head and clutched at her chest, her shoulders shaking as the tears turned into full on sobs. Maggie wrapped her arms around her, not knowing what else to do, and held her as she cried.

  It was some time before Nadia regained control of herself enough to speak. “They killed him,” she cried. “They killed Poppy.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Maggie said, but Nadia was on her feet and heading for the door.

  “Stay here,” she ordered.

  Maggie followed her out into the courtyard, ignoring the command. No way she was going to be left behind.

  Nadia stood looking into the forest, but with only the moonlight to brighten the night, Maggie was unable to see what the other woman was looking for. She was about to ask when Nadia pointed into the woods and said, “There.”

  It was still a long moment before Maggie could see what she was talking about, and even then she was confused to see three large wolves emerge from the trees. Nadia’s shoulders dropped in relief, but it was short lived as the condition of the animals became clear. There was a grey wolf, who seemed none the worse for wear, and a humongous black one who was limping from an obvious wound on his shoulder.

  But it was the silver wolf who held Maggie’s attention. He wasn’t the largest, but he seemed the most regal, though his fur was splattered with something dark and wet, and he walked with his head down as if he were suffering greatly.

  When the silver wolf looked up and saw Maggie watching him, he turned to Nadia and growled.

  “Hey,” the medic said. “Don’t blame me. I told her to stay put.”

  The silver wolf bared a set of rather large teeth at her, and Nadia lowered her eyes and fell to her knees.

  “I’m sorry. I felt you through the Pack bond and I knew you were going to need me. I should have waited in the lodge with your wife. Forgive me.”

  His wife?

  The silver wolf placed his nose on Nadia’s shoulder, then nudged her toward the large, black wolf. “I think your injuries are more severe,” Nadia said, but the silver wolf showed her his teeth again and she went to tend to the others.

  All of this Maggie watched with a mixture of confusion and awe.

  When the silver wolf approached her, she instinctively took a step back. Sensing her fear, the wolf laid down on the ground and rested his head on his forepaws. As she stared at him, he lifted a paw and laid it across his nose, watching her all the while with what could only be described as big puppy dog eyes.

  When the wolf whined, she reached out a tentative hand and ran it through the soft fur on his shoulder. The wolf chuffed at her touch, and when Maggie’s hand came away wet, she screamed for Nadia.

  Chapter Nine

  “Y ou idiot,” Nadia murmured as she searched Patrick for injuries. Sure enough, there was a deep slice in his shoulder, close to his neck, and it didn’t look good.

  “Butch! What the hell happened to him? This looks like silver poisoning.”

  The black wolf limped over to them, sniffed the silver wolf’s wound and then his body started to shimmer. A series of loud cracks and pops echoed in the courtyard as the large animal’s form began to twist and morph. Soon there was an even larger man lying in its place.

  Maggie gasped when the wild-looking man stood naked in front of her and shook himself like a dog, his hair and—everything—swinging in the wind. Her cheeks flushed, and she immediately averted her gaze, turning her attention back to the silver wolf before her. Could this really be Patrick?

  “I’m Butch,” the big man held his hand down in Maggie’s averted line of sight and Maggie gave it a limp shake.

  “Nice to meet you,” she murmured.

  “Talk to him, Maggie. Let him know you’re here. David,” Nadia yelled. “Where’s my bag?”

  Maggie wiped her hands on her jeans, then knelt in the dirt beside this huge wolf who, according to these people, was her husband.

  “Maggie, now!”

  “P-patrick? Hey, baby. Umm…wow. So, I guess you were telling me the truth, huh?” Maggie gave a sideways glance at the burly, naked man who had now joined Nadia in searching the wolf’s body for further injuries.

  “He’s got scratches here and there, and a nasty bite on his hip, but I think the knife wound is the only one we need to worry about.”

  Maggie stared at the big guy, stunned by this exchange. Really? All of this blood—her eyes having adjusted to the moonlight, she was aware there was a lot of it—was no big deal? She started to say something, but Patrick’s body shuddered. Unlike the black wolf, though, he didn’t change. He just lay in the dirt and shook.

  “Maggie,” Nadia said again, and when Maggie looked at her, the medic nodded at Patrick.

  Maggie reached out again, and this time stroked Patrick’s muzzle. “You know I’m not partial to facial hair,” Maggie said. Butch and Nadia exchanged an odd look, but Maggie could have sworn the wolf smiled. It was an old joke between Patrick and her, one that he had teased her with often. The memory brought tears to her eyes, but she blinked them away, focusing her thoughts and energies on the creature before her. On her husband.

  Another naked man ran up to them with an old fashioned doctor’s bag, and Nadia wasted no time in going to work.

  “Why is this wound so much worse than the others?” Maggie asked, as she continued to stroke Patrick’s muzzle.

  “It was made with a silver knife,” Nadia said. “Silver is poison to us. Deadly. You might want to stay away from his mouth,” she added. “He could get a little snippy.”

  Maggie moved to Patrick’s side, dug her fingers into his thick fur and kept up a continuous stream of verbal nonsense as Nadia got down to business. Maggie had to look away more than once as the medic used a shiny scalpel to cut away the damaged flesh.

  Patrick growled more often than not, and yelped quite a few times. Butch held him still as Nadia continued her work, slicing away at the infected area until the skin left showing was pink and healthy. Then she sewed it all up tight with what she called “absorbable stitches” and gave Patrick a pat on his head. He growled at that, too, but she merely laughed it off, which made Maggie wonder again what the relationship dynamic was between the two.

  Patrick passed out at some point while Nadia cleaned and stitched his other wounds, so when she finished, Butch picked him up and carried him into the lodge. Nadia threw together a pile of blankets by the fireplace, and that’s where Butch laid the sleeping wolf. Apparently, they were aware enough of Patrick’s fastidious nature to know not to put him on the bed.

  Maggie stood back while Nadia did what she could to make him comfortable, and crossed her arms when the medic approached her.

  “I’m going to leave him in your care,” Nadia said. I’m just three cabins down on the right, so if you need me you’ll not have far to go. Knowing our Alpha, he would rather not have an audience to his recovery, but you he will want to see the moment he wakes up.”

  “Why hasn’t he changed back…to Patrick?” Maggie asked.

  Nadia studied her for a moment before she replied. “Maggie, he is Patrick. That’s something you’re going to need to come to terms with if you plan to stay with us. He is Patrick when he is human and he is even more Patrick as his wolf. The wolf will never pretend to be anything other than who and what he is.
People don’t do that. People, humans, are forever worried about what others think or feel. The wolf will be nothing but honest.”

  Maggie nodded, but wasn’t entirely sure she understood.

  “I’m going home,” Butch said as he stepped to the door. “I’m right next door if you need me,” he added for Maggie’s sake.

  “Thank you,” Maggie said. “Both of you.” Butch tipped an imaginary hat to her—he was still naked, after all—and made his way out the door.

  Nadia made to follow, but stopped when she reached the threshold. “He loves you, you know.”

  “I do know.”

  “No, I don’t think you do. You have no idea the pain and torment your husband put up with, biding his time until he was strong enough to take over the Pack. I think I know Patrick, the man, well enough to tell you that this was not a responsibility he would have shouldered if there had been any other way out. Any other way to get back to you and that little girl.”

  “Well, we don’t have her anymore, do we?” Maggie said, unable to hide the unexpected bitterness that crept into her voice.

  Nadia stepped back into the room, and though she was smaller than Maggie, she somehow loomed larger than life as she all but pressed their noses together.

  “You know that man better than any of us,” she said, pointing to the wolf now sleeping on the floor. “Would the Patrick you knew kill for anything or anyone other than you and your kid?”

  Maggie wanted to take a step back, but forced herself to stand firm. “No. He wouldn’t.”

  “Then believe me when I say, he’s done all that and more, because it was the only way to bring you home to him. So when you look at that wolf lying over there, do not look at him as anyone other than the man who loves you. And don’t you dare judge him for choices he’s been forced to make. Everything he’s done, he’s done for you.

  “Now you can stay here with him, help him shoulder the burden of being the leader of a Pack of lost wolves, or you can turn your back and walk away. Either way makes me no never mind. But you make damn sure you can live with the choices you make now. If you harbor even the slightest bit of resentment toward that man for who he is or what he’s done, then take my advice. Walk out that door and do not look back. He deserves better.”