Soft Fate (Wolven Moon Book 2)

by Dany Rae Miller

  And no idea of what she is.

  According to our father, it was difficult to recruit emergency witch fosters for the girls following the Soft massacre. Once word spread that Shavone’s chaperones were killed that night as well, the covens in Colorado and the surrounding states refused outright, petrified that taking in a Soft would lead the hunters to their own doors, and their own children.

  My mother’s maiden family stepped up to take in the youngest daughter. Unfortunately, the Durango Suaves followed Jack’s orders to a tee when it came to Skylar. After I became Prime, I pleaded with Rafael to begin introducing Skylar to witchcraft. He refused.

  A young college student, she hasn’t the slightest knowledge of the supernatural. In fact, according to Rafael’s reports, they’ve hidden the facts from her so well that she’s completely unaware that her adoptive family is Lycan. What will happen to her state of mind when they reveal themselves? The girl will need an indomitable mentor.

  And, poor Sophia. Although the Fisker family kept an eye on her, the oldest Soft daughter spent her childhood bouncing from foster home to foster home — none of them necromancers.

  Damn the hunters.

  I shake my head at the travesty of it all.

  Though her wolven education is sorely lacking, I’m grateful that Shavone was placed with Mademoiselle Gentil and trained with that ancient coven. The Soft girls will need Shavone’s experience one day — perhaps one day too soon.

  Antonio’s phone rings through the sound system, interrupting the music and my musings.

  The caller ID on the car console is unknown.

  Antonio pushes the answer button on the steering wheel.

  “Hello?” He says.

  “Socorro.”

  I don’t recognize the hoarse, thick voice pleading for help.

  “Francisco?” Antonio asks.

  The voice breathes a barely audible, “Yeah.”

  “Where are you?” Antonio says.

  “Um.” He hesitates, confused.

  “Are you fucking drunk?” I bark.

  The boy has a reputation of a partier.

  “We just got here. Where are you?” Antonio says.

  “Socorro,” Francisco whispers.

  My beast picks up the genuine anguish in his tone.

  Antonio’s wolf surfaces as well. I motion to him to pull into a parking space coming up.

  “Describe your surroundings, Francisco.” I speak as calmly as possible. “I know Aspen well enough.”

  “Aspen?” Francisco mumbles.

  “Yeah. We’re here. Where are you?” Antonio says.

  “Not in Aspen,” Francisco slurs. “I don’t feel the altitude.”

  There’s a thud on his end followed by his moan.

  “Francisco!” Antonio leans forward on the steering wheel to listen closer.

  I pick up shuffling sounds, a distant murmured female voice. Then, there’s an old-fashioned dial tone just before it disconnects.

  Dumbfounded, we stare at one another.

  “Someone’s fucking with us.” Antonio glowers.

  Fucking with the Cruz pack earns a death warrant.

  “Did Francisco call you directly to arrange this meeting?” I ask.

  Antonio shakes his head.

  “Then, who told you Francisco called?”

  “Uncle Agustin.”

  “Message our corneta to send an alert to the Native nation.” I fish my phone out of my pocket to call Uncle. “All are to be vigilant of their safety and keep their ears open for information about Francisco. Then, have the corneta contact the French and Norse primes on my behalf with a carrot and a stick — a monetary reward for information leading us to Francisco.”

  I tap Uncle Agustin in my contacts.

  “And the stick?” Antonio types a message on his phone.

  Uncle’s line rings as my beast paces in his cage. “Death to those involved in Francisco’s abduction.”

  First Shavone, now Francisco. Coincidence?

  Since becoming alpha, no one has dared to harass anyone close to me much less abduct them. Who would dare such things now?

  Tomas Suave? He had a bit of an attitude last week. Jack? It’s possible that she’s angry enough to bring in her horde of allies against me. A most obvious suspect, at least in the case of sending me to Aspen, is LaFontaine.

  To lure me away from my mate.

  “Shavone,” I whisper. Not waiting for another ring, I end the call to Uncle and tap her name.

  “Hey,” my witch answers right away in her soft voice.

  I close my eyes and sigh with relief. “You’re alright.”

  “Uh, huh.”

  “Are either of my uncles with you?”

  “No. I don’t think they’re in the house. I haven’t heard any noise from downstairs.”

  That’s strange Agustin should be home by now.

  “What’s going on, Enrique?”

  “Turns out Francisco isn’t in Aspen after all.” I keep my voice as calm as possible.

  “Someone sent you on a wild goose chase?” She’s shocked.

  “So it appears. It also appears that Francisco has gotten himself in a bit of trouble.”

  “Oh, no,” she murmurs. “What kind of trouble?”

  “We don’t know yet.”

  Finished communicating with our corneta, Antonio puts the car in gear and heads back up the pass from where we came.

  “What did you want to tell me earlier?” I ask Shavone.

  “It can wait until you get home.”

  “Tell me now. I want to know.”

  “I remembered something from my childhood.”

  “What did you remember?” I can’t help but smile at the joy in her voice.

  “My family. My biological family.”

  Antonio grimaces and shakes his head.

  “That’s excellent,” I say and mean it. I want her to remember it all and get stronger for it.

  It’s too soon, Antonio mouths.

  “I can see their faces — even now, wide awake. I remember them!”

  “I’m happy for you, mi dulce.”

  “It’s so wonderful.”

  I can’t wait to celebrate with her.

  “We’re heading back now.”

  My cock tightens at the thought of her sleeping naked in my bed. I put the phone closer to my ear.

  “What are you wearing?” I murmur low.

  Antonio rolls his eyes. “What are you? Fourteen?”

  I jokingly punch his arm.

  “Um,” Shavone hesitates, her happy tone replaced by apprehension. “My worship robe.”

  Playful flirting gone, terror brings my wolf forward.

  “Shavone, stay out of that damn circle.”

  “Let’s not argue about this again, okay?”

  “We’re not arguing. I order you to stay in the house!”

  “Excuse me?” Her tone turns curt.

  I take a deep breath. My beast pants. Physical strength and threats are his only methods of persuasion. “Shavone,” I do my best to temper my tone. “I believe this wild goose chase, as you called it, is about you.”

  “Me? Why in the world would you think that?”

  Because information about you was my lure to Aspen.

  “Fuck!” Antonio, rounding a tight corner of a particularly narrow section of the Pass, slams on the brakes, screeching the car to a halt.

  “What’s wrong?” Shavone asks.

  A blockade of headlights blind us, silhouettes of legs stride toward us.

  The ring Shavone charged pulsates.

  “Wolves,” Antonio says, his beast already surfacing.

  “Stay home. I’ll call you back in a moment.” I hang up on Shavone.

  I step out of the car. Antonio does the same. The right side of the road is a straight drop down the mountain. The left side is straight up granite.

  My cousin, Tomas Suave, emerges from the light. Four young wolves trail behind him.

  “We’re here to
take you in, Enrique,” he smirks.

  I laugh.

  “Take me in to where?” Casually, I take off my leather jacket. No sense ruining a designer piece. I toss it onto the passenger seat and walk forward, mindful that the edge of the road is the edge of the mountain.

  “To Alliance holding,” Tomas says. “Orders.”

  The pungent scent of wolven challenge emanates from him, his swagger cocky and bold as he comes closer.

  Foolish boy.

  “Orders from Jack?” I laugh louder. “You know she isn’t in charge any longer.”

  He shrugs, holds up his hands in innocence. “Does it matter? Alliance orders are Alliance orders.”

  “You’re a Native first, Tomas.” Antonio steps around the back of the vehicle to my side.

  “Stay out of it, Antonio,” Tomas says. “Just doing my duty.”

  My brother shakes his head.

  “Attacking your Prime with them is treason. You know what Enrique does to Native traitors, don’t you?”

  On my brother’s warning, Tomas hesitates. His overconfident gait is off for just a nanosecond, but my beast notices. That hesitation, however brief, might save his life. Might.

  A jolt of current blasts from my ring.

  At that millisecond, Tomas and his four assailants stiffen like statues. Eyes wide, they shift. It’s simultaneous and fast. I’ve seen my cousin train. This is the first I’ve seen of that super ability. And four subordinate wolves? That quick and synchronized?

  Witchcraft.

  The shift is so rapid that I scarcely have time to dodge Tomas and the other three wolves that come at me. Even in human form, I’m faster than they are. My brother isn’t. He takes a claw to the outer thigh.

  “Argh.” Antonio morphs to beast as he rolls across the hood of the car to escape the solo wolf attacking him.

  My shift is painfully swift, but just in time.

  I dodge Tomas’ right claw, block his left. His fighting form leaves his entire underbelly exposed. Yet, despite my wolf’s thirst for his blood, I rake his chest.

  Tomas recoils, backs off with surprise in his eyes.

  “Should’ve been your bowels,” my beast growls.

  From the edge of the road, Tomas’ three friends advance on me again. I charge, full speed, into the three of them. Two escape to the sides. The center wolf teeters on the cliff for several seconds before losing his balance. The French’s scream on the way down pierces the night. Trees snap, popping like toothpicks under his rolling wolven weight.

  The other two wolves catch me off guard, grip my biceps. Tomas saunters toward me, confident hostility blazing in his eyes.

  My ring pulsates feverishly. It’s a warning. One I intend to heed.

  No more leniency, cousin.

  I roll my shoulders, bringing the goons gripping my arms closer. I bounce, bringing up both knees into their snouts.

  The wolves let go of me to cover their broken faces. I jerk them by their hair, snapping two necks simultaneously.

  Growling at Tomas, I drop one wolf, then, the other.

  Tomas’ eyes round, his scent betraying his alarm.

  I advance on him, shaking out my biceps and lengthening my claws.

  Tomas regroups from his fear.

  Throwing punches, striking with his claws, he fights better than I expect. He succeeds in dodging a few of my blows and landing several of his own. However, it doesn’t take long to wear him out. When his movements slow, I pound him to the ground and grab him by the scruff. He reaches back, claws my hand and arm in a futile attempt to break my hold on him.

  The ring vibrates like mad.

  “It’s clear you wish to die today, baby alpha.” My beast’s voice is guttural with anger.

  I drag Tomas toward the edge of the mountain, show him — face first, how far down he’s about to fall.

  Power seeps from the insistent ring into my hand and up my arm. My mate’s protection flows into every cell of my body. I feel invincible.

  “I can make your wish come true with a simple toss.”

  “Enrique.” Antonio’s voice slurs.

  Blinking, I turn my head to look at him in human form staggering to stay upright. The wolf he was fighting lies on the ground, his back twisted at an odd angle.

  Dead.

  Tomas goes limp in my hands. The scent of charcoal fills the cool mountain air.

  “Witchcraft,” Antonio whispers as his legs fold and he collapses.

  I pull Tomas away from the cliff and hurry toward my brother.

  “Antonio,” I murmur. He’s breathing, but he’s out cold just like Tomas.

  From behind Tomas’ car, I hear vehicle doors open followed by whispered chanting. I can’t see anything beyond the piercing bright headlights of the damn SUV.

  My Lycan ears pick up three pairs of feet walking the pavement. The strides and shoes are feminine.

  Slowly, I move, crouched, toward my car.

  A female gasps. “Someone just moved.”

  I still completely.

  “Impossible,” a different female voice says. “This is the strongest spell in Kennedy’s Book of Shadows.”

  What are they doing with a spell of Kennedy’s?

  My ring pumps energy so hot my finger singes. Their chanting gets louder as they come closer. I listen closely to them. Do I recognize any voices?

  I feel a sudden change of air pressure behind me. I begin to turn my head to see the cause.

  Thump.

  A sharp whack on the side of my temple slams me against the fender of my car.

  Down on the ground, I see stars.

  A large hand grips my shoulder to keep me from moving and another hand reaches to take my ring. I curl my finger around it.

  “Don’t fight me,” a familiar male voice says.

  Uncle?

  He grips my bicep and pulls, a futile attempt to bring my left hand up.

  “Give me the Cruz ring,” he growls.

  Fuck you.

  My right claw sinks into the hand pulling on my arm.

  “Argh!” His hand releases enough for me to throw it off. I angle my right foot to rollover and rise.

  A pair of feet whose rhythm I recognize walk toward me. This is a witch who’ll help me.

  Smash.

  Another blistering blow to my head, this one hard enough to cause ringing in my ears.

  Why isn’t she doing anything?

  Uncle lifts my hand. I make a fist.

  “I’ll break it if I have to.” He yanks on my finger.

  I tuck my hand under my body to protect the family ring.

  Whack.

  The third wallop to my head is brutal and merciless. Darkness threatens.

  “It’s the right thing to do, Enrique. We need to get the little witch’s attention.”

  Shavone.

  “This will do it,” Kennedy says.

  “Ahhh,” I groan as Uncle does nearly break my finger. He succeeds at slipping the ring off me.

  I stare into my own uncle’s eyes.

  You are dead.

  The witches stand over me and chant. I look into Kennedy’s eyes.

  This betrayal will never be forgotten.

  Her apologetic gaze means she understands my message.

  You, too, are dead.

  My eyelids are so heavy, my vision dark and hazy.

  Stay awake!

  In spite of my best efforts, my eyes close.

  chapter 21

  I tuck Hannah’s keys into my pocket.

  One step in from the garage, it’s Jack’s nauseating voice and Val’s disgusting scent that greet me.

  “Fuck,” I mumble to myself. Not what I want to deal with after a long staff meeting at the Kitten Club.

  I miss Shavone’s happy laugh. Ridiculous how fast her fresh scent is fading from this house. I can’t wait to get away from this fucking place.

  “If this doesn’t work tonight, we’ll do it by force,” Jack says.

  In the great room, Nash
stares out the window and slurps a glass of cognac. He’s in his own little world of misery.

  “Do what by force?” I walk to the minibar and grab a glass.

  Val, lounging on the sofa reading a fashion magazine, giggles. “They want to kidnap Shavone.”

  Without warning, my wolf erupts. Dropping the glass stopper back in the decanter, I spin on Nash.

  “Are you out of your fucking mind? After what she’s just been through?”

  I fight the beast in me. He wants to rip into him.

  Nash plops into a chair. “Relax, alright. We’re not gonna do that.”

  “Goddamn right you’re not. I won’t let you.”

  Jack lowers her glasses to look at Nash. “You let your beta speak to you like that?”

  “Fuck you, bitch.” I’ve wanted to say that for years. “We don’t take orders from you anymore.”

  Her face gets harder and uglier.

  Val stifles a smirk.

  I walk back to the minibar and pour myself a drink.

  “You’d rather wait until she’s pregnant with his cub?” Jack spits out.

  Hand balled into a fist, Nash’s beast growls low and garbled.

  Shav said she wasn’t ready for that, didn’t she? When we made love, she made us wear condoms. Of course, she wouldn’t let us mark her either. She let him bite. Maybe she let him spill his seed into her, too.

  I take a healthy gulp of my drink.

  “Doesn’t matter, Nash. We’re supposed to protect her,” I mumble. “No matter what.”

  No matter how much it hurts.

  “Getting her away from Cruz, is protecting her,” Jack says.

  “Bullshit!” My wolf explodes, again. Damn, but he hates Jack.

  “Whose side are you on?” Jack snarls.

  “Shavone’s.” I answer without hesitation.

  I use my glass to point at Nash. “Whose side are you on, cuz?”

  He jumps out of the chair, spilling some of his drink on himself.

  “Shav’s! Always! You know that!”

  “No, I don’t know that.”

  I don’t know anything anymore.

  “You aren’t thinking straight. If you were, you wouldn’t consider this crazy shit for a second.”

  Anyone else who suggested abducting Shav would’ve lost his, or her, lungs by now.

  “We have to do something.” Nash swallows.

  “No, you don’t.” Val licks her finger and turns a page in her magazine. “If you know what’s good for you, don’t get between a mated pair.” Her eyes flick up to Nash’s. “Especially when it comes to Cruz.”