Beta's Baby: BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance (Wolves Hollow Book 2)

by Natalie Kristen

  Scott turned to stare around the compound. The Sentinels were working quickly and quietly to clear the bodies from the compound. They would cremate all the bodies and tear down all the buildings in the compound. This was their territory now, and the Sentinels would decide what to do with the land.

  Scott froze suddenly. He stared at the trees in the distance and frowned.

  “Christine,” he whispered.

  He whipped out his phone and called home. “Come on, pick up the phone,” he urged. The phone kept ringing.

  “Shit!” Scott swore. Christine wasn't at home. She was...out here, in the goddamn woods.

  His wolf growled and clawed at his skin. The wolf needed to get to its mate now. And there was only one reason why his wolf wanted to get to Christine so urgently.

  Christine was in danger.

  Scott almost couldn't breathe as his wolf snarled and wrenched him in the direction of the forest. “What the hell is she doing in the fucking forest? Why didn't she stay home?” Scott swore angrily at himself as he started running.

  “Scott!”

  He heard the surprise in Grayson's voice but he didn't slow down. The battle with the Duskfall pack was over. But his own battle was just beginning.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Christine shivered and looked around. She couldn't see Yaya and Boris anywhere. She knew they were nearby and they were watching her, but she wished she could see them. Those two had hidden themselves really well.

  “Yaya, Boris,” she whispered urgently.

  The leaves rustled and Christine looked up. She saw Yaya peer down at her from between the branches. “Yaya, how'd you get up there?” Christine whispered.

  Yaya pressed a finger to her lips and pointed at Boris. “Right. Flying broomstick,” Christine muttered. Yaya disappeared into the dense canopy and Christine walked to and fro nervously.

  How long did she have to wait? Why hadn't the wendigo appeared?

  Christine was about to call out to Yaya again when she heard a sound. She tensed and began to back away.

  No.

  No.

  She was beginning to hyperventilate, and the horrid stench of rot and decay made her gag. The stench was overwhelming, and her eyes watered.

  She bit down a whimper and looked around wildly. Where was it?

  “Yaya!” she hissed.

  There was no reply. Christine looked up and saw nothing but leaves. Where were Yaya and Boris when she needed them? Did they abandon her? It looked like she was on her own now. She grimaced. Maybe Scott was right not to trust witches.

  Christine saw a pair of glowing red eyes coming towards her. A scream lodged in her throat. She was staring straight into the eyes of the wendigo.

  Panicking, she turned and ran.

  She heard a rough, guttural sound behind her as the wendigo crashed through the trees. It pounced on her, shoving her easily to the ground.

  Christine struggled and tried to scramble back, but the wendigo's claws dug into her flesh. She twisted madly, screaming in rage and terror.

  She turned away from the sight of the wendigo's terrible mouth. Bits of rotting flesh hung from the monster's jagged teeth. The wendigo slashed at her with its claws but Christine managed to snatch up a branch and hit back.

  The monster made a sound of disgust and anger. Its red eyes glowed brighter as it opened its jaws wide and prepared to tear into her torso.

  There was a sudden movement above her, and Christine's eyes widened as she saw Yaya swoop down from the trees. The witch was gripping a dagger with a long, black blade as she dropped straight down. Yaya was just a blur, so quick and soundless were her movements. The old witch plunged the black blade straight into the wendigo's spine and tumbled away.

  The monster reared back and let out a horrible, wrenching scream. Yaya dragged Christine away and pushed her behind a large tree.

  “The blade was coated with a very powerful potion,” Yaya said breathlessly. “But it's not the end. You have to finish it, Christine.”

  “Me!”

  “You're the human.”

  Yaya produced an axe from the folds of her cloak and thrust the axe at Christine. Yaya's cloak seemed to hide an endless stash of secret weapons.

  “You know what to do.”

  Christine gave a jerky nod. She gripped the handle of the axe and stepped out from behind the tree.

  The wendigo was kneeling on the ground, making horrible retching sounds. Then it opened its mouth and vomited violently.

  Christine raised the axe shakily and braced herself.

  The wendigo kept heaving, spewing an endless stream of bloody entrails from its stomach. Christine covered her mouth when she saw a broken finger, an eye, part of an ear, a whole heart and other human body parts being forced out of the creature's mouth.

  The wendigo was vomiting up all the victims he had devoured. The bodies he had eaten remained inside him, never digested and never excreted.

  Finally, the creature shuddered and spat out the last of its victims. Christine saw a finger with a wedding ring still around it. “Mr Randall,” she said, her breath hitching. She recognized his wedding ring, the gold band with the little ruby in it.

  The wendigo raised its head and for an instant, the red glow receded and its eyes became human once more.

  “Now!” Yaya screeched.

  Christine swung the axe.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Scott tore through the woods, half mad with fear and worry. He could smell that terrible, nightmarish stench in the air. The monster was near, and so was his mate.

  Christine was so near. Scott could practically taste her fear in the air. “Christine!” he roared.

  He burst through the trees and saw Christine. He saw her face, a mask of steely determination and focus. She was standing over the monster, but the monster didn't look so big and monstrous now. It was kneeling on the ground, shaking and heaving, and it seemed to have shrunk. It looked wasted and emaciated, its ribs stark and sharp through its gray skin.

  A glint and Christine moved. Her swing was clean, swift and accurate.

  Her axe sliced right through the monster's neck, severing its head. The head dropped away from the body but there was no blood at all.

  Christine staggered back, dropping the axe as Scott rushed to her side. He caught her as she sagged in his arms.

  “Scott,” she said, giving him a weak, wobbly smile.

  Scott heard a sound and spun round to see Yaya and Boris standing behind him.

  “What's going on?” he demanded. “You dragged Christine out here, didn't you?”

  Yaya didn't reply. She strolled over to the headless body and pulled a long, black dagger out of its spine.

  There was a long, quiet sigh and the body crumpled to dust. There was nothing, nothing but bones lying on the ground. Even the head of the monster had become a bare, white skull.

  Scott stared at the skull. “It's a human skull,” he said at last.

  “Well yes,” Yaya answered. “The wendigo was human.”

  “Wendigo?” Scott stared at the human bones on the ground. “The monster...was a wendigo? I thought the last wendigo was destroyed by witches...”

  “Witches helped. But it was a human who destroyed it,” Yaya replied. “A wendigo is created from the darkness and corruption in a man's soul. It has to be destroyed at the hands of a human who is good and courageous.”

  Yaya paused and looked at Christine. “Christine destroyed the wendigo, not me. I could only get it to purge all its victims and return their remains to the earth. But the final act of destroying the wendigo has to be done by a human. And Christine did it. She did it.”

  Scott closed his eyes, hugging Christine to him. He couldn't believe how close he had been to losing her.

  “I told you to stay home,” he said through clenched teeth. “You put yourself in so much danger...”

  “Stay home? Will I be safe? Will my son be safe?” Christine said softly. “No one will be safe until the we
ndigo is destroyed. You know that, Scott.”

  Scott grimaced. He knew she was right. “Where's Darren?” he said tightly.

  “I left him with Laura and Sophie.”

  Boris darted past them suddenly, with Yaya in hot pursuit. Yaya pounced on her runaway broomstick and tut-tutted. “Oh no you don't!”

  Boris tried to wriggle away but Yaya said sternly, “You're not getting out of this. There's still work to be done.”

  She mumbled a spell under her breath and with a pop, the broomstick in her hand changed into a shovel.

  Christine blinked and exclaimed, “You turned Boris into a shovel!”

  “Yes.” Yaya shrugged. “I have to bury the bones. I make Boris help me in the garden sometimes. He's used to it. He just likes to make a big fuss.”

  Scott went over and took the shovel gently from Yaya. “I'll do it, Yaya,” he said.

  Boris seemed to quieten down in Scott's capable hands. He simply behaved like a good, hardworking garden tool and let Scott bury all the human remains in an unmarked grave.

  Scott stepped back and handed Boris back to Yaya. She didn't turn Boris back immediately. Instead, she let him stew and sulk. “If you promise to be good, I will turn you back into a broomstick,” she said smugly.

  Boris turned his back on her and hopped away. “Fine,” Yaya yelled, hurrying after him. “Be a shovel!”

  Scott hug Christine to him and led her out of the forest. Boris and Yaya were nowhere in sight, but he could still hear Yaya's furious shouts.

  “Don't do that again,” Scott said.

  “Do what? Protect my family? Protect the people I love?” Christine countered.

  “Christine...” he pleaded.

  “I am not afraid to fight for my family,” she said fiercely.

  “I know.” He pulled her close and kissed her hard. “I know. I just...I love you so much, Christine. I...”

  Christine smiled, and touched his face. “I know, Scott,” she whispered. “I know.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  The Sentinels' headquarters was all decked out with banners, streamers and balloons. Excited laughter filled the house as the kids chased one another around and popped the balloons that their Alpha had painstakingly blown up.

  Grayson made an exasperated sound as a dozen balloons burst. “A little help here?” Grayson called to his pack members. “I can't finish blowing up the balloons all by myself. And with the pups destroying my handiwork...” Grayson mock-growled at the noisy bunch of kids who were running in circles around him. A few lieutenants finished decorating the hall and laughingly went to their Alpha's aid.

  Scott popped his head out of the kitchen door, saw that everything was shaping up nicely and went back to staring at the oven and biting his nails. Everything was shaping up nicely, except his cake. His cake had no shape!

  The she-wolves in the pack had prepared all the food for the party, but he had insisted on baking the cake himself.

  It was a pretty ambitious project, and everyone had offered their help. But he was confident that he could bake the perfect birthday cake for his son.

  “How's the cake coming along?” Ari asked, ducking into the crowded kitchen.

  “Shhh,” Keisha said, pushing a large tray of sandwiches into Ari's hands. “Scott is stressed enough. Here, take these out, will you?”

  Ari opened her mouth to retort but she saw the look on Scott's face and clamped up. “Oh...okaaaaaay.” She grinned at Scott and said over her shoulder, “Don't worry how it looks, Beta. As long as it's chocolate cake, it will be a hit!”

  The oven dinged and Scott hurried to take the cake out. “Well...”

  Everyone crowded round and started giving suggestions and advice.

  “Don't worry about that hole...”

  “A little frosting should cover that up.”

  “And you can put more cream on this side so it looks less, um, lopsided.”

  Scott took a deep breath. “Right. How much time have we got?”

  *

  Christine carried Darren out of the car and walked up to the house. She smiled when she heard the children screaming excitedly, “They're here! They're here!”

  “Are you ready for your first birthday party?” Christine whispered to her son. Darren grinned impishly and squirmed in her arms.

  She knew Scott had gone to great lengths to plan this party. He had left the house early in the morning, and told her to drive Darren to the headquarters only in the afternoon. “No earlier,” he warned her. “The boy needs his nap. And...I need enough time to, ah, do what I have to do.”

  Christine entered the Sentinels' headquarters with Darren and they were greeted with cheers and hugs. “Happy birthday, Darren!”

  Christine was ushered to the dining area and she gasped when she saw the amount of food on the table. “Wow!” She looked around and asked, “Where's Scott?”

  Everyone quietened down and stole glances towards the kitchen. “Scott's in the kitchen?” Christine blinked. “What's he doing…?”

  The kitchen door opened and Scott walked out slowly. He was balancing a huge but rather crooked and messy cake in both hands. The entire pack started singing the birthday song as Scott placed the cake on the table.

  “...happy birthday to Darren, happy birthday to you!”

  Darren looked bewildered as he stared at the blazing candle in the middle of the cake. “Blow it out, sweetie,” Christine said, bending forward. Darren was perched on her hip, but he was getting quite heavy. He was just learning to walk but he wasn't quite steady on his feet yet.

  “Come on, son,” Scott said, coming to her side. He lifted Darren up and grinned. “We'll blow it out together.”

  Everyone clapped as Scott and Darren blew out the candle noisily. “Did you bake the cake, Scott?” Christine whispered.

  Scott gave her a sheepish smile. “I know, it looks disastrous...”

  “Are you kidding?” Christine cried. “It looks perfect! I love it, and Darren loves it too!”

  “Really?” Scott beamed at them. “Do you like the cake I baked for you, Darren?”

  The boy stared at Scott and grinned. Then he said loudly, “Papa!”

  Scott froze, his eyes rounding. “Did you hear that?”

  “Yes!” Christine's hand flew to her mouth. “Papa, he said Papa!”

  Scott put Darren on his shoulder and hollered proudly, “My son just said his first word today! He just said Papa! Me, Papa! Isn't he amazing?”

  Christine helped cut the cake and passed the plates around. It was chocolate cake, and evidently, the Sentinels all loved chocolate cake. They demolished the cake in no time.

  Christine saved a large slice of birthday cake for Scott and Darren. The Sentinels were sitting around the house eating, talking and laughing. Some of the lieutenants were putting up a magic show for the children, and there were shrieks and enthusiastic applause from the audience.

  Christine discreetly slipped away from a giggling group of she-wolves to look for her mate and son. She found them standing in front of a window. Scott was pointing at the thorny, twisting plants in Yaya's garden and telling Darren their strange-sounding names. Yaya's house was right next door to the Sentinels' headquarters.

  “Are you making the names up?” she asked as she came up to them. “They don't sound like proper plant names.”

  “That's because they're not proper plants,” Scott answered, turning to her. “They may look like plants, but they are Yaya's security system.” He lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper. “Do you know that no one has ever entered Yaya's house? Those plants in her garden will attack anyone who tries to enter.”

  Christine held out the huge slice of birthday cake and smiled. “Okay, it's time for cake. This is the last slice, by the way. We'll share it. The three of us.”

  She fed her son his birthday cake, and laughed when Darren smacked his lips appreciatively.

  “This cake is awesome! I didn't know you could bake,” she teased.

&nbs
p; Scott laughed. “I didn't know either!”

  “This is the best cake ever,” Christine declared. It really was. The cake tasted of sweetness, warmth and love.

  Christine wound her arm around Scott's waist and kissed him. Darren squealed and they both kissed him on his chubby cheeks. Scott put Darren down and carefully walked the boy over to the other kids who were sitting on the floor in a big circle. Darren gripped his Papa's finger in his tiny fist and waddled his way over to his packmates.

  Christine gazed at her mate and son and all the amazing people around them with love and joy. She had a beautiful family, and she had a wonderful pack. She wasn't alone anymore, and she would never be alone.

  Christine sighed as she finished the last bit of cake. She now knew how happiness tasted. It tasted just like chocolate cake.

  * * * * *

  End

  About the Author

  Natalie Kristen is a writer who enjoys mixing the sweet with the spicy, the light with the dark, the possibilities with the unimaginable. She enjoys exploring paranormal and dystopian worlds, deep desires and inspiring romances. She is hopelessly addicted to coffee, chocolate, reading and writing. She loves to hear from readers so please feel free to follow her on Twitter and Facebook, or visit her blog for the latest news and updates.

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