Slade’s Desire
Dawn Sullivan
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by means mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording or otherwise without prior permission from the author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events or persons, living or dead are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names or featured names are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or in part, mechanically or electronically, constitutes a copyright violation. Published in the United States of America in January 2016; Copyright 2016 by Dawn Sullivan. The right of the Authors Name to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by them in accordance with The Copyright, Designs and Patent Act of 1988.
Published by Dawn Sullivan
Cover Design: Kari Ayasha-Cover to Cover Designs
Photographer: Mandy Hollis Photography
Models: Julio Elving and Ashley Edmund
Copyright 2016 © Author Dawn Sullivan
Language: English
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Other Books by Dawn Sullivan
Author Bio
Dedication
For all of my wonderful readers. When I began my writing journey just over a year and a half ago, I never would have dreamed I would be where I am today. Always follow your dreams. You never know where you will end up! Thank you so much for your continued support. It means the world to me.
Chapter 1
So, this was where they had taken his woman, he thought snidely, as he slowly tracked the activity at the White River Wolves compound from where he was hidden on a bluff just half a mile from his prey. There were several buildings throughout the large property, along with a number of houses scattered on the outskirts of the small town. Some of the buildings he could tell were apartments because of the balconies on the second and third floors, along with the open curtains showing him exactly what was inside. Another one looked like an office building sporting blinds on all of the windows, most of which were also open. He knew shifters liked the wide, open spaces. They hated being confined in any small area, which was why all of the blinds were wide open for the world to see inside. They were either very confident that their homes would not be compromised, or very stupid.
There was another large building beyond the offices that he assumed was a hospital, because he had watched a couple of people arrive for work in scrubs just over an hour ago. That one was too far away to see inside from where he lay behind a large rock, and from his angle, it was mostly blocked by an apartment building.
The compound was surrounded by a tall chain-linked fence, stretching out over hundreds of acres. As far as he could tell, the fence was only on three sides of the land. It stopped where the mountains on the backside of the property began a few miles from the town. The fence seemed to be more of a deterrent than anything, because there was no way the pack would be able to watch that many acres of land closely enough that nothing could slip past them.
Readjusting his binoculars, he zoomed in on the lone wolf racing through the woods just half a mile from where he was hidden. Sunlight glistened off the huge animal’s dark grey coat as he jumped lightly over a fallen tree, heading in the direction of the buildings. There was a small patch of dark brown fur on his chest, and another on his nose and the tips of his ears. Most people would see a beautiful, majestic animal, but all he saw was an abomination. Something that should never had been allowed to live in the first place.
There was another wolf with what looked like identical coloring and markings further out, running toward the first one. They had made the same loop several times since he had been there, obviously watching for any enemies that may be a threat to the people in the compound. People, he grunted to himself. They weren’t people. They were nothing but fucking animals. Animals that needed to be put down.
Narrowing his eyes, he quickly swept the binoculars over the area surrounding the two wolves. No one else was in the vicinity. It was early morning, so they were probably all still in bed or eating their breakfast; oblivious to the fact that he was stalking them. Yes, that was exactly what he was doing, stalking all of the disgusting creatures in their own homes. Chuckling to himself, he put down the binoculars and picked up his sniper rifle. It would be so easy to pick them all off one by one...and he should. They had taken what belonged to him, the only thing that mattered to him, and there was no way he was going to let them get by with it. He wanted her back, and he would have her...soon.
The more he thought about how the bastards had stolen his woman from him, the angrier he became. They had taken her when he was gone, hunting down a couple of escaped women for his boss. If he’d been there, he had no doubt that she would still be with him. He owned her, dammit! He fucking owned her. He’d paid his boss ten thousand dollars for her, and he was taking back his possession, he didn’t care who he had to kill along the way.
Fighting to calm himself, he called on his many years of training. He had been a hired assassin for over fifteen years. He knew how to look deep inside himself and connect to that part that allowed him to become unemotional and detached until the mission was complete. After several moments, he peered back through his scope and saw the wolves had almost reached each other. Making a quick decision, he pulled the trigger, laughing as the dark grey wolf fell to the forest floor. The other wolf howled loudly in distress as it quickly closed the distance between them. Pleasure coursed through him as he watched the devastation unfolding before him. Grinning in satisfaction, he slowly and methodically began taking apart the sniper rifle before putting it away in its case. Enclosing his binoculars in their bag, he picked up his belongings and walked away without a backward glance. Soon, he told himself, his woman would be with him again soon.
Aiden Andrews howled loudly, the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he ran swiftly to where his twin brother lay bleeding out on the ground. Fear for Xavier consumed him as Aiden watched dark red blood begin to pool on the ground beneath his body. Skidding to a stop beside the large wolf, Aiden looked around, baring his teeth in warning at any unforeseen danger, before shifting quickly. Anticipating more shots to come, he gathered Xavier in his arms and moved as quickly as possible to the buildings in the distance.
This could not be happening. He refused to lose his brother like this. Aiden was the oldest, only by a few minutes, but he still felt responsible for Xavier. Since it was just the two of them, it was his job to protect his brother. He should have been the one to take that bullet, not Xavier. Struggling to carry the two hundred pound wolf in his arms as he ran, Aiden growled deeply when he stumbled, almost dropping his precious cargo. Not much further, he told himself, as he rushed past the first set of apartment buildings. He just had to get to Doc Josie. She would know what to do.
Ignoring the shocked looks he received as he ran bare ass naked through the compound carrying his u
nconscious brother, Aiden started yelling for the doctor as soon as the hospital came into sight. Stopping briefly to adjust his hold on the wolf, he snarled when someone tried to take Xavier from him. Xavier was his brother, his responsibility, and he had failed to protect him. How the hell had someone gotten to him? They had been on patrol, and had split off to do one last round before they were relieved by Sable and Charlotte. What had they missed?
“It’s just me, Aiden,” Chase Montgomery said soothingly, as he once again tried to take Xavier from him. “Let me help you get him to the hospital.”
Aiden’s nostrils flared as he breathed in his Alpha’s scent. “It’s Xavier,” Aiden rasped, clutching his brother tightly to his chest, refusing to release him to anyone, not even the pack Alpha. “Someone fucking shot him, Chase,” he growled, his voice full of anger and pain. “Someone shot my brother. When I find the fucker, he will wish it was me he shot instead.” The last was said with purpose. Xavier was the only family Aiden had. He would do anything for him. If Xavier didn’t make it...shaking his head, Aiden pushed the thought from his mind. Xavier was tough, he would make it. Aiden refused to believe otherwise.
Chase’s eyes grew dark with fury. Reaching out, he ran a hand gently down Xavier’s head before responding, “You take care of your brother, Aiden. I will find the son of a bitch who shot him.” When Aiden would have protested, Chase promised, “I will keep you informed on everything I find, but right now Xavier needs you. Trust me, son, the person who shot your brother will suffer just as much, if not more, when I get my hands on him.”
Nodding, his dark eyes filled with barely controlled rage, Aiden stepped around his Alpha and hurried to the hospital. Doc Josie, the physician for the White River Wolves, was waiting just inside the front doors for him. “This way, Aiden. Quickly,” she ordered as she ran down the hall and through a door marked surgery.
Aiden followed, terrified because the ragged breathing from Xavier had slowed and almost stopped. After pushing his way through the swinging doors, he gently placed Xavier on the cold metal of the operating table in the middle of the room. Xavier’s body shuddered as he coughed, a small trail of blood leaking from his muzzle. Blood coated the table as it seeped from the wound in his chest.
“You need to wait in the lobby area, Aiden,” the doctor instructed as she donned surgical gloves. “I will come see you as soon as I know anything.”
“I’m staying,” Aiden snarled. He didn’t want to leave Xavier. He was afraid if he did, if his brother didn’t hear his voice yelling at him and pushing him to fight, Xavier wouldn’t make it. And that just wasn’t an option. His brother had to live.
Stopping in front of Aiden, Doc Josie glared at him. “Get the hell out of my operating room right now Aiden Andrews. I can’t do my job with you looking over my shoulder. If you want your brother to have a fighting chance, you need to go, now.” Aiden’s body shook as he stared at his brother over her shoulder. Relenting slightly at the fear in Aiden’s eyes, she told him softly, “Go, Aiden. I promise I will come get you as soon as I’m done.”
“You save him, Doc,” Aiden demanded through clenched teeth. “Please, you have to save him.” Josie nodded, determination flaring in her eyes, as she turned and walked quickly to where Xavier lay without another word.
Stepping back toward the door, Aiden watched while the doctor and several nurses went to work on his brother. “I will find whoever did this to you, little brother,” he vowed in a low, hard voice. “I promise you, I will find them.”
Chapter 2
Dark, it was so dark. Her body shook with pain and fear. She was so hungry. Her stomach felt horribly empty after not eating for the past two days. Unfortunately, that was normal now. The bastards waited days before feeding her, keeping her weak and unable to defend herself. She was miserable, and had been for several months. She prayed someone would save her, but they never did. Every day she would wake up in the same hell, terrified it would be her last. She couldn’t die. Her sister needed her. Gypsy vowed she would live, and somehow free both Sari and herself.
Hearing the door at the top of the stairs open, Gypsy scooted back into a corner and huddled into a ball. She could not bring attention to herself. That was when they hurt her. Facing the wall, she began to rock back and forth, crying softly. Her heart raced at the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs as her tormentors made their way down them. She screamed silently inside when they reached the bottom of the stairs and then walked in her direction. Don’t let them hear you, she told herself softly. Stay quiet. Don’t draw their attention. How many more beatings would she have to survive from them? How much more suffering would she have to go through?
The footsteps stopped at her cell, but after a few moments they moved on to the cell next to hers. Gypsy froze, listening intently. There was the sound of a key in the lock and then the cell door creaked open loudly. She heard a harsh laugh and the sounds of a struggle. “No,” she murmured quietly to herself. “No, please no.” Hadn’t the man already been through enough? Trace was tortured at least every other day. How much more could he take? Why the hell were they doing this to them? And it wasn’t just them. At any given time there were normally at least two more prisoners down in the Dungeon with them. The guards seemed to take extreme pleasure in picking their next prey to put on the torture block.
Turning around slowly, Gypsy slid back toward the wall until her backside rested against it, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs, her chin digging into the tops of her knees. Grasping her hands tightly together, she prayed for her friend. He was a good man, a man with a mate at home who needed him. She prayed that she and Trace would both escape their hell soon. Letting her hair fall forward until it covered her eyes, Gypsy peeked through the dirty, tangled mass of dark brown strands to watch what was happening on the other side of her cell.
Two men had managed to drag Trace over to the table where they liked to restrain their prisoners while inflicting pain on them. He fought weakly when they hefted him up on top of the table and hooked the heavy chains that surrounded his body to heavy metal rings bolted into the four corners. Trace did not say a word as the men jeered at him, calling him names and laughing loudly, letting him know what they had planned for him this time. He was so strong and fierce, ignoring their snide comments as he glared at them, his eyes full of hatred. The chains dug into his wrists as he tugged uselessly on them. Her heart ached at the thought of the pain he was about to endure. She knew he would suffer in silence, but inside he would be screaming.
Struggling to her feet, Gypsy moved to the front of her cell and gripped the bars tightly. She could not just hide on the floor while they tortured Trace. If it wasn’t for him, she would have lost the will to live a long time ago. “Stop”, she cried out as one of the men slammed something down on Trace’s leg. “Stop, dammit! Leave him alone you bastards!”
She stilled, her hands tightening on the bars as one of them turned to leer at her. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” the man sneered darkly, “Your turn is next.” Gypsy’s whole body shook at the threat. It would not be the first time they had come for her, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Tearing her eyes from his, she returned her gaze to the only friend she had, tears sliding down her cheeks at the sight of the blood and bruises covering his body.
Trace locked his eyes with her, shaking his head slightly in warning. Grasping the bars tightly, she glared back at him in defiance. When Trace refused to look away, his gaze demanding she back down, Gypsy fought with herself before finally sighing in defeat. Knowing she would only piss him off more if she continued to yell, Gypsy stood and watched in silence as tears streamed down her face. Trace took blow after blow to his abdomen and legs, his body bowing up in pain. Not once did he utter a sound. She knew he would not give the bastards the satisfaction of letting them know how much pain he was in, but she knew. She was in his mind, feeling each blow as if it were her own. She always stayed with him, a subtle presence in his mind, while he was being tortured.
He hated it, but there was no way in hell she was going to let him go through that alone, and he wasn’t strong enough to push her out.
Gypsy’s heart ached as she stood watching her friend, vowing to stay connected with Trace while he went through hell no matter what. She wanted him to know that he was not alone. When he tried to shove her out of his mind, just like he always did, she fought him, stubbornly refusing to allow him to suffer by himself.
When they decided they were finished, the men removed Trace from the table and shoved him roughly to the floor. Grabbing him by his arms, they drug him back to his cell, throwing him inside and hooking his chains to the hooks on the wall before slamming the door shut.
Moving quickly back to the far corner of her cell, Gypsy cowered as far away from the men as she could. Sitting down, she pulled her legs up close to her body and rested her forehead on her knees, allowing her dingy hair to hide her face. She prayed the men left her alone this time. So far all they had done was beat and starve her, but she was afraid one of these days it would escalate into more.
Gypsy cringed when she heard the key enter the lock on her cell door. Chuckling lowly, one man said, “It’s your turn, bitch. Come here and take your punishment like a good little girl.”
Her whole body shaking, Gypsy raised her head and glared at them. If Trace could be strong, so could she. Slowly standing, her whole body shaking in fear, Gypsy clenched her trembling fingers tightly into fists. “Fuck you,” she snarled, her dark brown eyes snapping in anger. “If you want me, come and get me.” Staring into the man’s evil gaze, Gypsy almost wished she had stayed curled up on the floor, but she was so tired of living in fear. It wasn’t going to change the outcome. No matter what, these assholes were going to hurt her. However, when one of the guards reached out and grabbed her arm, squeezing it tightly, she could not stop the terrified scream that escaped.
Slade's Desire (White River Wolves Series, #2) Page 1