Reynolds Pack (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Becca Van

  “Mel’s in trouble,” Kris managed to shout before his anger completely took over.

  He ran as fast as his two legs would carry him, but the closer he got, the slower he felt he was going. His heart pounded from fear more than exertion, but he used everything he had to get to his mate before it was too late.

  When he was close enough, he used all of his strength and leapt up and over the porch steps, already aiming for the bastard’s head. But he wasn’t fast enough. If he hadn’t been worried about his bullet going through the window and hitting Jenny and her baby, he would have shot the prick before he’d gotten so close to Mel, but there had been too many dangers for him to fire off without thought.

  As the man reached out for her, she must have caught him moving toward her because, at the last minute, the grip she had on the gun changed, and as she turned toward him, she swung that gun as if it was a bat. The sickening crunch of bone cracking reached his ears, and just as his feet touched down on the veranda, the prick went reeling back and fell onto the timber deck with a thud, his eyes remained closed. Mel backed away from the man she'd knocked out—her gaze never leaving the prone man's face. She didn't stop moving until she was at the far end of the veranda where she leaned against the railing shakily.

  Kris’s knees went weak with relief and nearly buckled as his racing heart started to slow and he drew in the first deep breath he’d been able to since he’d seen that prick heading for Melanie.

  She must have seen him from the corner of her eye because she looked up to meet his gaze, raising the gun above her head once more in preparation for hitting out, but when she saw that it was him, she lowered the gun and took a step toward him. Kris moved to the unconscious man and crouched beside him. He glanced up when he heard a low whistle and snatched the rope Joe threw him before restraining the prick. He rose and started moving toward Mel.

  “Where’s Johnny? How bad is he—”

  Her body jerked, her face paled, and her mouth opened but no sound emerged. When she swayed toward him, he grabbed hold of her arms and hauled her against his body, turning to press her against the side of the house, using his body as a shield to protect her. The metallic scent of blood was pungent in the air. His wolf howled with rage and fear as beast and man realised that their mate had been hurt.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jules watched as the rest of his pack members restrained the men who’d been hell bent on trying to capture the wild horses. He moved around to the back of the house and pushed his wolfs back. There was a large timber box on the veranda against the house which they all left a spare set of clothes in. Once he was in human form again, he dressed and then headed back out front.

  When he heard Kris's roar of pain and fury, his heart stopped in his chest.

  He spun to where his brother was as he dropped his shield, and his howl of anger and pain joined his Kris's. He stumbled as his knees buckled but quickly caught himself. He didn’t even remember moving, but when he blinked, he was on his knees next to Kris, who was cradling Melanie over his lap and in his arms. Kris looked up at him, and Jules’s heart stopped when he saw the tears flowing down his brother’s face.

  The scent of Melanie’s blood assailed his nose, and when he looked down and saw the amount of blood soaking the front of her shirt, pain as he’d never felt before pierced his heart and soul.

  Jules turned his head, his wolf so close to the surface that fur began to ripple over his skin and his eyes locked onto the large man just rousing back to consciousness after being knocked out. A low, rumbling growl began deep in his chest, and he slowly pushed to his knees about to call to his wolf and go in for the kill.

  If Johnny hadn’t chosen that moment to shift back to his human form and wrapped both his arms around Jules’s chest to hold him down, he would have gone into a killing frenzy.

  “Do not!” Johnny commanded, using the pack skill of calming the fury coursing through him.

  It helped a little, but he still had a haze of grief and rage covering his eyes. His jaw began to elongate, his teeth sharpened and lengthened, and just as he was about to push his brother off of him, Blue knelt beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “You will not change or kill the human.” Blue’s command was absolute, and as he was Alpha, there was no way Jules could deny a direct order. Calm raced through his body, and his wolf retreated with a whimper, submitting to his leader’s dominance.

  “Your mate needs you. The humans will pay for what they have done. Joe has already called the authorities.”

  “We need to get Mel inside.” Johnny’s voice was tight with emotion. “We can’t let the police see me naked or our injured mate.”

  Jules nodded and then tuned his ears into the beat of Melanie’s heart. It was way too slow and was getting weaker each time it beat. “Why isn’t she beginning to heal?”

  “There's too much internal damage and she's losing blood fast.” Kris’s voice broke on the last word.

  “We need to change her,” Johnny whispered.

  Jules shook his head but then quickly changed it to a nod. There was no way he was going to lose his mate, not when they’d only just found her. He felt a little guilty about making a choice she couldn’t, especially when they had told her she wouldn’t become a werewolf when they claimed her. And although he and his brothers hadn’t been lying, because at the time they’d had no intention of changing her, she could say that they had since they’d held information back. But they would have to deal with the consequences later. Right now they needed to save their mate’s life.

  Kris and Johnny carefully lifted her between them, and Jules rushed to the door and held it wide open for them. His brothers carried her into the living room, and Jenny directed them to lay their mate on the sofa. When Jules met his Alpha female’s gaze, he saw the tears rolling down her face and she was so pale she looked about to pass out, but she held it together and gave him an encouraging nod.

  When they had Mel lying on the sofa, Johnny transformed back into his wolf and nodded to Jules and Kris. Jules found it hard to hold back his emotions and the horror of what they were about to do, but if they wanted to have years ahead to love their mate, there was no other option. Kris grabbed hold of Melanie’s shirt and ripped it apart. Her bra didn’t stand a chance either, and as he pulled the tattered pieces of fabric away from her body, Jules undid the button of her jeans, lowered the zipper, and tugged them down, but not enough to expose her to all and sundry.

  “I don’t know if I can do this.” Johnny almost whined his statement, glancing at Jules and Kris with such sadness in his eyes.

  “Her lips are starting to turn blue.” Jules reached out and clasped her hips in his hands, pressing down so that she couldn’t escape what was about to be done to her.

  “Do it. Now!” Kris ordered in a hard voice as he grabbed hold of their mate’s wrists in one hand, securing them above her hand, and placed the other between her breasts on her sternum, applying pressure to hold her down.

  Johnny whined, licked his lips, and then drew them back, exposing his teeth in a snarl. And then he struck. He bit deep into Melanie’s stomach, his teeth tearing through the outer layer of flesh and into organs.

  Jules didn’t bother to hide his tears of horror and pain. How could he when his mate was being ripped apart? Her body jerked and convulsed, blood spurted from her wounds, and then, to his terror, her heart stuttered and stopped beating, and lips parted, but her chest remained still when she ceased to breathe.

  Johnny lifted his head away from Melanie and howled, oblivious to the blood marring his mouth and snout before he backed away and crouched down on all fours until his belly met the timber floor, resting his head on his paws as he stared at Melanie as if he was trying to will her to live.

  Jules lifted his head to the sky and howled with grief, pain, and rage. He finally lowered his head and stared at her still body, not really comprehending anything except for the fact that his Melanie was no longer breathing.

&nb
sp; He heard Jenny’s voice yelling in the background, but his grief was so great that he couldn’t comprehend what she was saying.

  But then her words began to slowly penetrate his sorrow-filled mind, and he released the hold he had on his mate’s hips and watched his hands move as if in slow motion. He shoved Kris’s hand from Mel’s chest, laid his own on the bottom of her sternum, and began to compress against her, massaging her heart. He lifted his stricken gaze to Kris’s, and his brother gently tipped their mate’s head back, pinched her nose between his thumb and finger, and covered her open mouth with his own.

  They worked in tandem, neither of them speaking but keeping count of the compressions and breaths through their mind link. His ears listened for the return of her heartbeat, but it felt as if they had been performing CPR for hours without any results.

  And then a miracle happened.

  Melanie’s ripped abdomen began to heal. Her heart thudded sluggishly once then twice and again, each beat stronger than the last. Her lips opened even farther, and she gasped in a huge breath, the noise a desperate sound in the quiet of the room. The blue tinging her lips faded with each panting breath until finally her heart and breathing returned to normal, as did the colour of her face and lips.

  Jules removed his hands from her chest, grabbed the throw from the back of the sofa, and covered his mate. Kris continued to stare down at Melanie as if scared she would once more stop breathing, and when his brother lifted a hand, it visibly trembled as he brushed a strand of hair from her face.

  The next hour was the best and worst of his life. Jules kept checking on her wound and was surprised at how quickly it closed, but he was worried that he would never see Melanie’s beautiful eyes ever again. She slept on, not moving a muscle except to breathe. Not even her eyes twitched beneath her closed eyelids, and he was scared she would never awaken.

  They might have saved their mates life by turning her into a werewolf, but he was worried her brain had been damaged from lack of oxygen when her heart had stopped. What sort of life would they have if their mate was brain damaged?

  * * * *

  The moment Johnny had ripped into Melanie’s stomach he’d let his wolf take over and buried himself so deeply he wasn’t sure he would be able to find his way back. And after what he’d done to the love of his life, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

  The man and animal had both died a little the moment she’d stopped breathing, and although her heart was beating once more and she was breathing regularly, he was horrified and scared out of his mind. He’d watched his brothers performing CPR on their mate, but everything he’d seen had felt as if he was watching a movie in slow motion.

  The surrealism of the situation was one he hoped he’d never have to experience again. His wolf wanted to be closer to her, to feel the warmth of his mate’s skin close to his even if she wasn’t aware of his presence, but the man…the man was appalled that he hadn’t hesitated to injure his mate further.

  If Melanie regained consciousness and was cognizant, he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to look her in the eye after what he’d done. Kris must have felt his roiling repulsion for his actions because his brother turned to meet his gaze.

  “You did the right thing, Johnny. It was the only way to save her.”

  His wolf whined, but that acknowledgement was the only concession he allowed his animal. He wouldn’t leave Melanie’s side until she woke up, if she ever did. And if she did, he would remove himself from her presence.

  His mate was going to hate his guts for making her like him, and he would rather die alone than see rejection and condemnation in her eyes.

  * * * *

  Melanie felt as if she was floating. She knew she was dying, and her only regrets were that she’d never told her mates how much she loved them and that she’d had such a short amount of time with them.

  She was only barely aware Kris’s warmth as he cradled her in his arms, but the agony in her back through to her chest had spread to encompass her whole body. The cold that permeated her from head to toe was so intense she felt as if she’d been buried in mounds of snow. She could hear voices and shouting, but nothing made sense. She thought she heard someone crying and wanted to reach out and comfort them, but her body was such a leaden weight she couldn’t even manage to move a finger.

  A deep trembling invaded her entire frame, and she felt as though her bones were being rattled and wondered if her teeth would break or fall out. In her mind she was screaming, yet she knew no sound emerged from her mouth.

  Excruciating, unendurable pain ripped through her stomach, and the sounds of a rabid dog reached her ears, the sounds echoing and reverberating in her mind. She knew there was a significance about it that she should remember, but for the life of her, it eluded her.

  The coldness grew, and she wondered if her insides were freezing too, and if she could have laughed at the absurdity of it all, she would have, but she was tired. More tired than she’d ever been in her life. So tired she didn’t have the energy to even take another breath, and she exhaled for the last time, a peaceful calm washed over her as she ceased to be.

  Those mournful howls somehow reached her ears, and her body began to float toward the light. Her body hurt so much, and she knew it was going to hurt like a motherfucker to inhale, but she did it anyway. There were voices calling her, and no matter how much she wanted to ignore them, she couldn’t. She didn’t know how she knew, but she knew that those voices were important.

  The sound of her sluggish heartbeat drummed in her ears, as did the whooshing sound as she gasped in air. Each time she inhaled it became easier, and her heart began to beat normally.

  She floated in between worlds, not sure where she was or where she was going, but there was no panic or fear, just a deep abiding calm. Although she knew she wasn’t conscious, her body felt different. She felt as if there was more to her than had been before. She would have laughed at her ludicrousness out loud if she could have, but she laughed in her mind, and it sounded loud, even though she knew she hadn’t made a sound.

  And then she felt another presence. She froze for a moment, worried that she had indeed died and was about to face the Grim Reaper or an angel from Heaven but relaxed when the other being didn’t approach.

  The longer she floated, the stronger she felt, and after what seemed like hours, she began to get pissed that whoever was in there with her—wherever there was—was either too chickenshit to face her or was waiting for an opportunity to pounce when she least expected it.

  Melanie was sick of waiting for the confrontation since she was a face-the-inevitable kind of girl most of the time and decided to face whatever hostility was coming.

  “Who the hell are you, and what do you want?” she yelled.

  When there was no reply, she squinted through the darkness, trying to find who was there and where they were hiding.

  “Show yourself, you coward!”

  A yellow glow was the first indication she wasn’t delusional, and she held her ground as it came closer. As the glow got closer, she realised that she was looking at a set of eyes.

  Who had eyes that looked like that?

  And yet, as she asked herself that question, she knew that she’d seen such before. She just couldn’t remember where.

  The eyes stopped about ten feet from her, but it was so dark she couldn’t see who they belonged to, but when she noticed they were lower than her own, she wondered if she was looking at a child.

  Did they send children angels to help dead people pass over?

  Even though she wanted to back away when the eyes began moving toward her again, she held her ground. And then her mouth gaped open when she saw the small wolf with the dark brown, glossy fur. As she looked deeper into the animal’s eyes, she felt as if she should know the wolf, and then its eyes changed from the glowing golden yellow to hazel and back again.

  Mel took the two steps that separated her from the wolf and slowly knelt down so that her head was on level with its. Sh
e lifted her hand so the beast could sniff her, but instead of placing its nose close to her skin like she expected it to, it sat on its haunches, its mouth opened. The long tongue lolled out of the side of its mouth, and she could have sworn it was smiling at her.

  “I know you somehow, but I know I’ve never seen you in my life.”

  “Of course you know me. I am you, and you are me.”

  “W–what? What did you say?”

  “We are one, and yet we are two.”

  Mel frowned as she tried to make sense of the wolf’s words. The absurdity of her being able to communicate with it was not lost on her, but who was she to question who was sent to guide her to the other side? She’d always liked animals, even though she’d never had one of her own. Maybe the powers that be who ruled Heaven knew of her penchant for hankering for a pet but never having one.

  She slowly reached up a hand, and when the wolf didn’t seem to care one way or the other, she patted it on the head. And that was when she knew she must be dead because, as soon as her fingers and palm connected with the wolf’s head and petted it, she felt the exact same stroke on her own head.

  She fell back on her arse. At least that was what it felt like, but who knew if she even still had a body? She drew in a couple of deep breaths. When her heart stopped hammering and she felt a little calmer, she scrambled to her knees and scratched behind the wolf’s ears. The animal made a whiny, chuffing sound, and to Mel’s surprise, she made small mewling noise.

  “What the hell is going on?” she whispered, too scared to speak any louder in case she brought the wrath of Heaven down on her head for uttering the H word.