Last Wolf Standing

by Rhyannon Byrd

  The air made a harsh sound as he forced out a short breath, and he dropped his arm to his side. “We can work this out, Torrance. I can make you happy. I know I can. What I can’t do is lose you,” he gritted through his clenched teeth. “I never thought I’d find this. I never even dared to think that there might be someone out there. Someone that was mine and mine alone. This thing between us, it’s more than anything I’ve ever known. More than I knew I was even capable of. Why can’t we leave it at that?”

  Torrance blinked up at him, trying to fight back the salty flow of tears, wishing she could be happy with what he had to offer. But she couldn’t. She was greedy when it came to this man—she wanted it all. “Because,” she said softly, wrapping her arms around her middle, “no matter how much I want you, I know that without love, you’d never stay.”

  “You said last night that you were mine,” he rasped, golden eyes blazing. “And I’m not leaving you.”

  “You’d never stay…faithful.” She threw the last word down like a gauntlet, and he all but tremored with rage before her, his fury blasting against her like an angry swell of frustration, hot and beastly.

  “I told you you were the only woman for me now, and you can call me whatever else you like, but I’m not a goddamn liar!” he growled. He turned way from her, stalking toward the door in long, angry strides, but before he got there he slammed to a stop, sending her a sudden look of surprise over his broad shoulder.

  “What is it?”

  He closed his eyes, cursing a long, foul streak under his breath as he brushed past her on the way to his dresser.

  “Damn it, Mason. Will you just tell me what has you looking so—”

  “I forgot to tell you about my parents,” he muttered, pulling out a sage-green T-shirt and slipping it over his head, the muscles in his arms and chest momentarily distracting her.

  A shiver of dread scurried up the back of her neck, making her shiver. “What about them?”

  “They’re coming over today to meet you,” he grunted, avoiding her stare as he pulled on his socks and boots. “In fact, knowing them, they’ll probably get here stupid early because they’re looking forward to it, which means they could be showing up any minute now with breakfast. They don’t live in Shadow Peak, but they’re still in the mountains. Only about twenty minutes away.”

  “Parents?” she whispered, as if she didn’t know what to make of the word.

  “Yeah, my parents,” he drawled, his smile tight as he cut her a knowing look, his brows raised. “You know, as in my mother and father. Believe it or not, I didn’t spawn from the devil or anything.”

  “But why? Why are they coming here?”

  “Because if I hadn’t called and told them about you, they’d have wrung my bloody neck when they learned that I’d found my life mate and failed to mention the fact. Trust me, it’s going to be a lot easier getting it over with now rather than later.”

  “This is nuts,” she groaned, holding her head in her hands as the beginnings of a killer headache started pounding through her skull.

  “I’d hurry if I were you,” he told her, and without another word, he walked right past her and out of the room.

  Feeling like she’d just been blindsided by a truck, Torrance collapsed on the edge of the bed, staring at the dark grain of the floor, wondering what she was going to do.

  For a few brief hours hope had burned so sweet…and now it’d just burned out.

  * * *

  A half hour later, Torrance’s rioting emotions were still keeping her company as she followed the voices coming from the kitchen. Stepping through the archway, she saw an older couple sitting at the table, while Mason was dishing up fresh-baked cinnamon rolls she assumed had been brought by his mother. Jeremy held court at his customary place in front of the sink, while the seated couple laughed at whatever he’d just said.

  Mr. and Mrs. Dillinger. Mason’s parents. In the flesh.

  God, what more was she going to have to deal with today? Already she felt wrung dry, the past several days catching up with her in a way that made her feel wilted, like a bad head of lettuce. Not exactly the image she’d wanted to project when meeting the parents of the man who’d stolen her heart, but with the way her luck had been going lately, she should have expected as much.

  She started to move forward, but then froze like a deer in the headlights, realizing that they were all looking at her now. Mason’s dark eyes watched her with a cautious wariness, as if he didn’t know what to expect from her.

  “Mom, Dad,” he said in that deep, whispery baritone that always sounded so sexy, “this is Torrance.”

  “It’s…so nice to meet you,” she said in a rush, plastering on a smile as they came toward her, his father wrapping her in a huge bear hug, then relinquishing her to his mother, who kissed both her cheeks, her brown eyes—identical to Mason’s—bright with genuine warmth and delight. She’d been so worried that the moment would be awkward, but Robert and Olivia Dillinger were so wonderfully warm and accepting, she almost felt completely at ease.

  Jeremy pulled in an extra chair from the living room and they all gathered ’ round the kitchen table for breakfast and coffee, the conversation lively while both parents did their best to keep her entertained with stories of Mason’s juvenile misadventures. There was the time when he’d climbed a thirty-foot pine to play lookout for Jeremy during a game of war, and ended up too scared to make it back down on his own—to an endearing story about the beautiful locket that Olivia wore around her neck. It had been a gift from Mason on her birthday when he was only thirteen, and he’d saved his money for months. Olivia even opened the locket to show her the pictures of Mason and his brother that she carried inside. And though it was heartbreaking to see the photo of Dean, his dark hair and chocolatey brown eyes reminding her of Mason, Torrance couldn’t help but smile over the photos. There was something just so wonderfully cute about such a tough guy’s mom carrying his picture in a locket.

  In fact, Robert and Olivia Dillinger were an adorable couple all the way around. While his father was as handsome as Mason, just an older, slightly more distinguished version, his mother fell more into the category of cute and cuddly, with a wholesome beauty that radiated from her dazzling smile and warm brown eyes. They seemed a mismatched pair, much like her and Mason…and yet Robert Dillinger watched his wife with an avid absorption, as if she were the queen of the universe.

  Eventually the plates were cleared, and Jeremy excused himself to go and check on Elliot—and just like that, reality crept back in…reminding Torrance that they were in the midst of a nightmare. Leaning back in his chair, Robert crossed his brawny arms over his gray sweater, his easy grin fading beneath a hard look of concern. “You told us you had more news when we got here, Mason. I think now’s the time to tell it.”

  “Who’s Elliot?” Olivia asked, her smooth brow knitted with confusion.

  “It’s a long story,” Mason replied, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck.

  His father gave him a sharp nod. “Then you had better get started.”

  For the next ten minutes Mason related everything that they’d been through during the past three days. Olivia’s big brown eyes remained wide with horror as Mason explained about Simmons and Elliot, while his father’s expression took on a grim cast that would have scared the hell out of her, had she not seen for herself how easygoing he’d been during breakfast.

  “So they’re using kids like this Elliot, all but blackmailing them into joining their ranks. Inflaming their natural meat lust, making them crave it—making them do things they would have never thought they’d do,” Mason said darkly. “We’re dealing with something that goes against the laws of the pack here. Jeremy and I both fought Simmons in broad daylight, and that bastard had his full wolf form. And he’s got a whole little gang of thugs following him, who can dayshift, as well—whose scent can’t be tracked. God only knows how he’s done it, but—”

  “I do,” his father stated quiet
ly, the words somehow seeming to hang heavily in the air between them. An uncomfortable feeling settled deeply in Torrance’s stomach, making her wish she could get up and leave the room, but she didn’t dare move.

  Mason’s entire body held still as he stared at his father. “What do you mean, you do?”

  “I know how it’s done,” his father said. “How to teach someone the way to dayshift, because it’s one of the first secrets revealed to an Elder. When a Lycan is taught the power of dayshifting, rather than coming into the power naturally as he nears the end of his life, as some do, it’s for the purpose of using him as a soldier—as a weapon of war. The reason you’ve never heard of it is because it’s been centuries since it was last used. When the Lycan transforms his body in daylight, he no longer produces the wolf’s natural musk. Instead, he gives off an acidic odor that deflects the ability of others to track him, giving him a double advantage.”

  Mason shook his head, a dark look of betrayal washing over his rugged features. “You knew about this, and you’re only telling me now?”

  Robert sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, Mason, but it wasn’t my place to tell you.”

  * * *

  “No,” Mason grumbled, his voice thick with biting sarcasm. “As always your loyalty was to that goddamn League, even after they turned their back on you!” Looking toward Torrance, he explained his meaning. “It’s true. The man sitting beside you was once a young, powerful Elder…until the day he fell in love with my mother. Being a man of honor, he informed his peers and they rewarded his honesty by voting him off, believing that no Lycan could faithfully serve the pack when his heart belonged to the human world. And even though he knows it was bullshit, he remains dedicated to the same bastards who stabbed him in the back!”

  “And you’d rather I spent my life hating the world?” his father roared, banging one beefy fist on the table so hard that both women jumped in their seats. “Why, Mason? I have love, a family—more than any man deserves. Your anger does me no honor. Not when I consider myself one of the most blessed men, be they human or Lycan, that I’ve ever known.”

  “Mason, I know it’s difficult for you, but you’ve got to let the anger go. Enough’s enough,” his mother said gently. “Look at this wonderful girl. You’ve been given a gift. Don’t waste it.”

  Mason stared at his mother, understanding what she was trying to tell him—but he couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t do it. “Torrance has nothing to do with this,” he rasped, unable to ignore the crushing effect of his words on her.

  “Wow,” Torrance said with a small, tight smile. “That sounds remarkably like my cue to leave. If you’ll excuse me, there’s something I need to do.”

  “No, don’t leave,” his father rumbled. “Please, Torrance, stay. You’re a part of this, and you need to be a part of the conversation.”

  “Really, Mr. Dillinger,” she said awkwardly, “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

  “Don’t be silly,” his mother told her with a gentle smile, patting her arm. “It’s obvious you’re a mated pair, Torrance.” Looking toward her son, she said, “What I want to know is why you’re not a bonded pair. After what you’ve told us about Simmons, knowing her life is in danger, why in God’s name haven’t you made a blood bond with her, Mason?”

  “Mother,” he said in a low tone of warning.

  But Torrance was already saying, “Blood bond?”

  “He hasn’t even explained it to you?” His father sighed, sounding weary with disappointment.

  She shook her head, and Mason blew out a rough breath. “In the Lycan world, when a man finds his mate, he can permanently bind her to him by making a blood bond with her. He…bites her with his fangs, and in doing so, creates a deeper connection, a kind of metaphysical link between them that can never be broken.”

  “Oh,” she whispered, the word heavy with awe. “I…I thought that if you bit someone, it changed them.”

  “Not between mates. A Lycan male can’t change their human partner. But it binds them together forever, Torrance. It deepens their connection until they feel their other half even when they’re not with them.”

  “Were you afraid to tell me, Mason?” she asked, the wounded look in her eyes crushing him. “Because of my nightmares?”

  “That’s part of it,” he told her. “I would never ask you to do something like that, knowing how you feel about wolves.”

  “How does she—?” his mother started to ask.

  But Mason cut her off, saying, “But it’s also something I vowed a long time ago to never do, whether I ever found my mate or not. The bond creates an emotional link between the partners, one that—”

  “One that’s based on love. Am I right?”

  He stared at her for a long moment, then quietly said, “Yes.”

  She made a low sound of understanding in her throat. “So that’s it, then?”

  “Torrance, you don’t know the risk,” he growled, willing her to understand. “The connection between mates becomes stronger, but not without a price. If I’m killed, then you could die, too, following me into death. I won’t risk you that way. I won’t do that to you.”

  “Jeremy, he told me about what happened to your brother. He called them a bonded pair. I just didn’t—I guess I wasn’t thinking. I should’ve figured it out…that there was something more.” She looked up at him through a sheen of tears. “That’s what Cian meant, wasn’t it? He knew you hadn’t bonded with me. They all know, don’t they?”

  Feeling like a total shit, Mason gave her a jerky nod. “Yeah, they know. A Lycan can just…tell.”

  “Not just a Lycan,” Olivia murmured, sending a look of disappointment in his direction. “I’m human, Mason, and it’s still clear to me that you’re—”

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Torrance suddenly murmured, looking almost ill, “I have to go.”

  “Torrance,” he growled, but she ignored him.

  “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Dillinger,” she said with a quiet grace and poise that most women couldn’t have managed, considering she was not only hurt but probably furious with him for not explaining things to her sooner.

  “Nice going,” his father snorted, shaking his head in disgust the second Torrance had fled the room. Mason knew that he’d hurt her again, but she’d still left with her head high, and a warm wave of admiration burned through him at the same time he felt like kicking his own ass—if he could only reach it.

  “I’ve never been so disappointed in my entire life,” his mother scolded, as if he were still a child in need of discipline. “I didn’t raise you to act like an idiot, Mason. You’re breaking that poor girl’s heart. What’s the matter with you?”

  “Nothing’s the matter,” he gritted through his teeth, his fingers biting into the edge of the countertop at his back. “Other than the psychotic killer out there who wants to take that woman away from me! I’m scared to death of losing her.”

  “Fear is sometimes healthy, Mason,” his father said with a sigh. “And sometimes it’s just an excuse to keep us back from the things we want most in life. Admit to the truth that’s in your heart. Bond with her. Make it right, son. Don’t be afraid of death. It finds us all in the end. All we can do is make the most of the time we have.”

  “And love is what gives us the strength to overcome our fears,” his mother added. “What happened with Dean was a tragedy, but don’t let it hold you back from what you know is right. You’re the bravest man I know, Mason, and we’re so proud of you. But you have to trust in your love. If you can’t learn to do that, then you don’t deserve her. Don’t take a thing of beauty and turn it into something ugly. The bond can help keep her safe. Love can—”

  “Love isn’t going to protect her!” he shouted, his hand making a cutting motion through the air, as if he could physically destroy the reality of that statement. “Love isn’t going to keep her alive!”

  His father stared at him, then slowly gained his feet. “Let’s go home, Olivia. T
here’s no talking any sense into him when he’s like this.”

  His mother pressed a kiss to his cheek, her smile sad, and they left, leaving him alone in the kitchen with nothing but his lousy mood and the anxious knot of fear in his gut for company.

  He cast a short look at the coffeepot, then decided the situation called for something stronger. Opening the pantry, Mason pulled out the Lagavulin and poured himself two fingers in a glass. The first slow sip hit his mouth like fire, and he enjoyed the rich burn in his eyes and throat as Jeremy walked back into the room, Hennessey and Carter at his back.

  “We saw your parents on our way in. What did the old man have to say?” Cian asked, folding his long body into a chair at the table, his left eye swollen and bruised from their late-night brawl. “Any news?”

  A sardonic smile twisted his mouth and he turned, propping himself up against the counter, his legs crossed at the ankles. “Oh, he had news all right. Seems that ‘Dayshifting 101’ is a course taught to all members of the League of Elders. Each and every damn one of them. And it’s meant to be used as a weapon of war, the lack of a traceable scent caused by that damn acidic odor meant to give the Lycan an advantage as a soldier.”

  “Holy…” Jeremy whispered, his hazel eyes huge as he considered the ramifications of that statement.

  “Yeah.”

  “Jesus. That means that whoever taught the skill to Simmons—”

  “Is most likely someone on the League,” Cian finished for him, propping his leather-covered elbows on the gleaming surface of the table. “This just keeps getting deeper and deeper.”

  “And Robert didn’t tell us this a long time ago, why?” Jeremy asked, scowling as he poured himself a drink, offering the bottle to both Cian and Brody, who shook their heads no. “That seems like a helluva piece of information to keep to himself.”

  “Because he’s still loyal to the same assholes who abandoned him,” Mason grunted, unable to understand his father’s fierce sense of loyalty. “I think he was hoping we’d never learn.”