Slade, Book 1 in Team Greywolf Series

by Eva Gordon

  His tone turned harsher than ever. “Allow me to punish her for what she did to me.”

  “Son, not now. We need her to fully recover before we can harvest her eggs for cross breeding.”

  He scoffed. “I don’t see the point in breeding a runt.”

  “To create an uber human.”

  Slade picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. He spanked her ass and she growled. “She does have the cutest ass. I wish to take her to my den.”

  Wolfstrom scowled. “You will do no such thing.”

  Slade put her down, and she kicked him in the shin. He snarled. “Oof!”

  Henrik laughed. “Spunky, isn’t she?”

  “Let me give her a punishing fuck.” Slade grinned.

  “I’d rather die,” she spat.

  Slade narrowed his eyes. “If you wish.”

  Wolfstrom smiled. “Agrippa should be here soon to satisfy your desires.”

  Cricket narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m sure you and your mate have the same eating preferences.”

  “We might just include you in our den for a little rough sex threesome.”

  Wolfstrom lifted her chin. “Tonight you are invited to attend our rally. You will be impressed.” He turned to the guard. “Take her to her room.”

  “Yes, please do,” she said and then quickly bowed her head.

  Raulf stepped forward. “Allow me to escort her.”

  Slade’s mouth twitched, but then he smiled at Raulf.

  Wolfstrom nodded. “Yes. I understand. You must have a million questions to ask Cricket.”

  Her head flinched back slightly. “Excuse me, master?”

  “Come, I’ll explain while I take you on a tour.” Raulf offered his arm, and she took it. She glanced at Slade as did Wolfstrom and Henrik. This must be a test. The old Slade would have balked at anyone touching her, especially an unattached enemy alpha werewolf. He remained aloof and ignored her as she left.

  Arm in arm, she and Raulf left the castle and walked the perimeter and perilous cliff edge. Did he intend to push her off? Yet, didn’t they want to harvest her ova?

  “Beautiful view, don’t you think?”

  She swallowed. “The glaciers are spectacular.”

  “So tell me, which of your alpha sisters is stronger?”

  Really? My sisters? Despite their meanness, she had a hard time betraying them by passing them off as breeders for a madman. She frowned. “About the same I suppose, however, for alphas they are not so powerful.”

  He chuckled. “Oriana is the eldest, but Dacia is slightly taller. Both attractive.”

  “If you’re looking for Miss Congeniality, you are barking up the wrong tree.”

  “Personality is of no consequence. I only wish for healthy alphas.”

  “I understand. After losing your fated mate, romance no longer matters.”

  Raulf snorted. “My so called mate fell in love with a human male. I allowed them the opportunity to be together in death.” He grimaced, picked up a stone and hurled it down the cliff.

  Cricket shivered from the crisp mountain wind and his cold jealous heart. “So what’s tonight’s rally all about?”

  He stared down at her as if remembering her. “Tonight Wolfstrom will declare himself Emperor of the Lycan Empire and his son, King of Patagonia.” He smiled. “And then we will herald in the beginning Ragnarok.”

  Not if I can stop it. Odd. Raulf held no resentment on not being Wolfstrom’s favorite.

  They continued around the castle and she followed him, listening to him talk about the coming apocalypse. No other werewolves or other wolves in sight. Had they gone on a hunt? Certainly, he and the evil leaders were in no danger since there was no way in or out. She caught the scent of his mobile.

  She stopped and moaned. “I feel ill.”

  Raulf turned. “Come, we'll go the back to your quarters.”

  Cricket rolled her eyes, stumbled forward into his arms and pickpocketed his mobile. The weakness not a total sham. Her recovery had been slow. Too slow.

  Raulf picked her up and carried her to her room. Inside, he set her on the bed. She blinked. “What’s going on?”

  “You fainted.”

  “I’m still not used to the elevation.”

  “Shall I send for a medic?”

  “No. I just need rest.” She smiled. “Oriana will be a suitable mate for you.”

  He raised a brow. “Thought so.” He left.

  The lock clicked.

  She sighed and dashed to the bathroom away from the camera. She texted Rylee, about her status and sent the lab facility coordinates. Ragnarok. Must destroy. She hit send and turned off the mobile. Now I need to get rid of it, but where? Too big for the toilet. For now, she shoved it beneath her pillow.

  She glanced at the door. How soon before Raulf noticed his missing mobile?

  If only Slade or rather Prince Bain would come in and have his way with her as he threatened. Until she snapped him out of his memory-wipe. If that was even possible. Would Lunara, their wolf shaman, be able to retrieve his lost soul? Once Rylee received the coordinates, she might bomb every inch of the territory with Slade still inside thinking he was Wolfstrom’s son and married to a mad she-wolf.

  Shit. I must figure out a way to get him out. That is if she survived that long. After Wolfstrom harvested her ova, she’d be disposed of anyway.

  Cricket donned a loose white gown for the evening gathering. It had been hours and Raulf had not come back to search for his phone. All he had to do was sniff the trail back to her. Maybe he left to join the hunt.

  Howls echoed throughout the palace. Mourning howls. Someone died. She cocked her head, her desire to cry for the departed tempted her to shift. What if Slade had died? She paced, her mind swirling with emotions. No. Unless he remembered and they executed him as a lost cause. With nothing better to do, she napped, resting her head on the pillow that hid the phone.

  Henrik came in. “Cricket, are you ready?”

  She opened her eyes and bolted up. “Yes.”

  “Good, come.”

  Cricket straightened her gown and glanced in the mirror. Not bad. As long as we get out of the room before he catches Raulf’s scent on the phone. Yet, why would he? Unless Raulf reported it missing.

  She followed him out of her room into the hallway.

  “The guards will escort you to the rally.”

  Cricket turned to Henrik. “You’re staying here?”

  “Go on. I’ll catch up later.”

  She took a breath. Her door had closed. Doubtful he meant to look for Raulf’s phone. That was Raulf’s job. And wouldn’t he be too embarrassed to admit a lowly runt took his mobile?

  They exited the castle and headed toward a huge field facing a stage surrounded by a forest. Cricket followed him to the rally. Hardcore pulse-like bass and drumbeats accompanied howls. A DJ blasted the electronic music from giant speakers.

  The guard handed her earplugs. “Wear these.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to just play soft rock?”

  He ignored her.

  Naked werewolves in various stages from human to wolf danced in a trancelike state. A dangerous situation for humans and other animals not part of the pack. A call for a pre-hunt rave werewolf dance party.

  A big screen flashed images, symbols and words. Even with earplugs, the music nearly shattered her eardrums. Yep brainwash central. Did they even wear earplugs?

  The yips, howls and yowls beneath the blood red moon gave the place an eerie ambiance. More like a horror movie cult scene than a political assembly.

  The guard dragged her up the stage. Not good. Maybe her eggs wouldn’t be harvested after all. Would she end up on tonight’s menu?

  He pointed to a chair on the side of the stage. “Sit.”

  “Great. Front row seats.” Not that anyone heard her. Cricket lifted one of the earplugs and immediately fur prickled her skin and her fangs emerged. Never mind. She secured the earplug back in place. She glanced at th
e disturbing images. From photos of humans killing wolves, pollution, acts of terrorism, human wars, and disgusting images of werewolves devouring humans. Yuck.

  Slade held onto the arm of the buxom she-wolf, Agrippa, and sauntered on stage. He and his mate sat across from her. He narrowed his eyes at her, then looked away. Agrippa glared at her the entire time.

  Cricket slumped on the chair. A waking nightmare. Prince Slade, her charge, was lost to her and the team. She’d failed him. She turned to her guard and shouted above the din, “I’m not feeling well.”

  He sniffed and snickered. “You smell okay.”

  Cricket stood. “Really, must I stay?” She covered her mouth as if gagging. Watching Slade with Agrippa made her stomach roil.

  The guard forced her to sit.

  “What’s wrong with her?” boomed Slade.

  The guard bowed. “Must be the noise, sir.”

  Cricket gazed at Slade. Could part of him still care about her, but didn’t understand why? Or had he been faking the entire time? If you were acting, I’ll give you an A for undercover work.

  “Take her back to her room then,” he snarled.

  “I’m sorry, sir. Master Wolfstrom says she is an important part of the rally.”

  Slade glared at her. “Sit still and don’t you dare ruin our assembly.”

  “May I at least go to the bathroom?” she asked.

  “Very well, but be quick,” Slade snapped.

  The guard kept his eyes downcast. “Sir, she isn’t…”

  “Obey beta, before I bite off your disrespectful tongue.”

  Agrippa bared her long sharp fangs and pulled him away. “Don’t concern yourself with this foul-smelling runt.”

  “No worries, love.” He drew Agrippa in and ravished her with a long hard kiss. She opened her gown, letting her large breasts spill out and moaned in pleasure.

  This was harder to watch than the bloody images on the screen.

  The guard grabbed her arm and took her away from what looked like a porno film. He took her to a small wooded area. “Go ahead.”

  “What? No woman’s bathroom?”

  He scowled. “Wolves don’t need bathrooms.”

  “Turn around then.”

  “I thought you were going to throw up.”

  “Now I need to pee.”

  His voice boomed over the noise, “Try to run and I’ll break your leg.”

  “No kidding.” How cliché.

  He turned his back, and she squatted. It wasn’t difficult to pee. Not with her pulse racing. She scanned the forest for an escape route. Sure she could run, but they’d hunt her down. If they all got high on the uber rally, she could hide until Team Greywolf came to the rescue. Like that would happen by morning. How could they get here that quick? “Okay. Done.”

  “Good.”

  A big alpha bumped into the guard. “Watch where you walk, fool,” he snarled with a Russian accent.

  The guard lowered his head. “Apologies, sir.”

  The alpha berated him. “If the runt runs in that direction, she can reach the bridge.”

  Cricket followed his gaze. Thanks for spilling the beans, idiot.

  “I understand, master, but even if she did, the bridge is up.”

  “Gregarin,” yelled an attractive red head she-wolf. “We need to find a seat.”

  Cricket watched the tall muscular were turn and leave. Was he the Siberian lycan? The one, who, like Slade, needed the stronger dose to make him forget? He met his female and gave her a long ravishing kiss. Geez, get a den.

  The music died down. Another guard interrupted them. “Get her back on stage.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  After the guard returned her to the seat, he stepped behind her. She turned. “Thanks and sorry you got in trouble.” Not.

  His brows twisted in concern, close to sadness. Did he know something bad was going to happen to her? “Don’t talk.”

  Cricket shrugged. “Whatever.” She glanced at Slade and Agrippa sitting and holding hands, but thankfully no longer making out in public. He had been destined to mate with an alpha, but not a crazy one.

  Suddenly, eerie silence overtook the recent loudness. Wolfstrom walked to the center of the stage. He wore a long red and purple robe.

  Everyone bowed their heads. She did as well, having the feeling if any heads remained up they’d be swiftly removed from their shoulders.

  “You may lift your heads, children of the moon.”

  That’s a relief. Cricket looked toward Slade. He smiled at his father not in simple pleasure, but with eyes wide open in awe, worshiping a god. They all did.

  Wolfstrom addressed his pack. “Welcome to our new beginning. Tonight, I crown a new king.” He turned to Slade. “Once Bain, my son and only heir proves his loyalty, I shall crown him King Bain of Patagonia and your alpha master.”

  Was Wolfstrom sterile? What, if anything, happened to his mate? And how would Slade prove his loyalty?

  The crowd murmured.

  He held his hands up to quiet them. “I will, however, still be your supreme leader as Emperor Wolfstrom. Grand master of all packs around the globe.”

  His declaration brought howls and cheers of triumphal joy. While distracted by Wolfstrom would they notice her leave? She looked around for the escape route the careless Russian alpha had mentioned. Useless since the bridge was up.

  Wolfstrom walked with determination to the front of the stage and nodded to another alpha. Paintings and scenes of Ragnarok appeared on the screen, followed by humans being eaten by lycans. He ranted about man’s ruin of the earth with their petty wars and greed for resources and destruction of the forests and oceans. Then he switched to the topic of eugenics and the lycan’s superiority over the lowly human ape.

  The packs cheered and howled as he lectured about Stallo’s true vision. Werewolf must replace mankind. Not that Stallo ever said that, but one could twist their werewolf ancestor’s ravings any way he or she wished.

  An hour later, Emperor Wolfstrom announced a break before his surprise about Ragnarok and the grand finale of Prince Bain’s loyalty.

  With no one to talk to, she turned to the burly guard. “So how will Prince Bain prove his loyalty?”

  “Normally, when a new leader is chosen by Master Wolfstrom, he must kill a human and eat him or her while they are still alive. It’s up to our supreme leader if the prey is allowed to live.”

  Barbaric. Even on a hunt, they killed their prey before eating its flesh. To do anything else was…just evil. She flared her nostrils. No humans around. They would probably bring the victim out at the last minute.

  Wolfstrom returned to the stage to the howls of his loyal pack. He grinned, baring long sharp fangs. “I shall show you how we will begin Ragnarok.” The sick documentary started with the vials of Variant Midgard, the high mortality rate bioweapon released to wipe out mankind. Disgusting pictures of humans dying or rather decaying then melting until death ended their suffering. She glanced at Slade’s reaction. None. He simply stared with cold eyes at what happened to hundreds of victims.

  Wolfstrom paused the slideshow. “This, my loyal brothers and sisters, is how we will deliver our weapon.” The screen showed a hanger of thousands of small drones, each the size of a handheld remote. “The evidence will point to acts of terrorism from the Middle East, letting war contribute to the chaos.”

  Another werewolf, the drone specialist came in and explained how cargo planes or freight ships would deliver the drones. He continued the film, which demonstrated how a drone could enter a building or football stadium and dispense the microbe. “Our omegas are working 24/7 to build more before our launch day, however, due to new circumstance we will begin in the next couple days. We tested our drone on an isolated tribe of humans, and they fell within hours.”

  By now, Rylee must have read her text. Blast the place! Slade and she were expendable. Ragnarok must be stopped.

  Wolfstrom stood while his throng cheered. Once they silenced, he spoke.
“My son will prove his loyalty to our supreme place on earth by consuming our prey.”

  Cricket glanced at Slade. His mate whispered sweet nothings in his ear. He nodded and smiled. He had no qualms about eating a poor human. Her heart broke. I’m sorry I failed you.

  Wolfstrom smiled at Slade then he pointed to Cricket.

  She turned around. Not even the guard stood behind her. Huh?

  A beta brought Slade an ax, and he took it.

  Wolfstrom continued, “We didn’t bring a human. Instead, tonight’s meal will be a murderous runt.”

  Her skin grew cold. “Hey, how do you expect to take my ova if I’m dead?” And eaten. By my former lover?

  Wolfstrom narrowed his eyes. “Don’t think you fooled us with your small size. You are too loyal as an agent of the LIA to betray them.”

  A compliment, but at the moment not in a good way. “What do you mean by murderous?”

  Wolfstrom pointed at her. “This sub-lycan pushed Prince Raulf off a cliff, straight to his death.”

  The packs growled at her and shouted to tear her apart.

  She shouted above the din. “How could I possibly shove him off when he locked me in my room?” Then again, no one had witnessed this.

  Henrik stepped forward and dangled Raulf’s mobile in front of her face. “Hidden in your room. I imagine you grabbed it before pushing him off the cliff. Then called your pack.”

  Slade shadowed by two guards scowled at her, ax in hand.

  Wolfstrom turned to Slade. “Cut off her limbs and feed them to the crowd, then dig out her entrails and feed them to your mate.”

  “Slade, you can’t. It’s me, Abella.”

  “Kill her!” demanded Agrippa.

  The bloodthirsty crowd cheered and shifted into wolf form, howling and salivating.

  The hell I’m going to let you cut me to pieces. Her adrenaline skyrocketed and despite the odds, she shifted to her dwarf-sized wolf form.

  Chapter 19

  Slade raged. Torture and kill Cricket? Abella. In her wolf form, she backed, crouched and snarled. A wolf ensnared in a steel jaw trap. Helpless, but no doubt she’d put up a good fight. He stomped toward her, and steps before reaching her, swung his ax at the closest guard, cutting through his carotid. The next attacked, but he crushed his skull.