For the Soul of an Outlaw (Outlaw Shifters Book 5)

by T. S. Joyce

  Harold smelled mad as hell as he led them through the precinct and up front to gather their belongings they’d been arrested with. After that was done, he marched to the exit, opened it, and ordered them to “Don’t leave town!”

  “Okay,” Trig said nonchalantly.

  “See you tomorrow, Tim!”

  “What?” Officer Hamilton yelled. “Why are you seeing me tomorrow? Are you planning on getting arrested again?”

  “Maybe,” Colt said. “Tomorrow is a new day, and we do get bored easy.”

  Officer Hamilton just stood there with his mouth hanging open.

  “You won’t see me tomorrow,” Kurt promised with a cheeky grin. “I’m dyin’.”

  “Good! One less of you assholes to deal with.”

  “The Salisbury steak was real good this time!” Colt called over his shoulder. “Potatoes were kinda watery, though.”

  “I hate this job,” Officer Hamilton muttered, right before he slammed the door closed behind him.

  Kurt was dizzy with the pain, but the second he saw Tenlee, he huffed a breath of utter relief. God, she looked amazing. Like a beautiful badass, straddling his motorcycle in black ripped-up jeans and a black tank top as if the cold didn’t bother her at all. She’d done something different with her hair, smoothed it out a little, but it still looked wild enough. And she’d put make-up on her face. She didn’t need it, but he’d always found dark eyeshadow and red lipstick hot as fuuuuck. And that smile…

  It had been the forced smile at first, but the second they locked eyes, her lips had softened into the real one he’d fallen head over heels for. She didn’t have much meat on her bones, but she looked strong, back straight, chin up, confident. His girl looked like she could take on the world. He didn’t even know she could ride. He was so damn proud of how far she’d come in such a short amount of time.

  Pain blasted through his middle. Fuck, he wanted to watch her grow into the fiery phoenix she was turning into.

  He was going to miss too much.

  She dismounted the bike smoothly, like she’d done it a thousand times before, and bolted for him. He opened his arms just in time to catch the wall of affection. Was she crying?

  “Ten, what’s wrong?” he murmured, petting her soft hair in the back.

  “Nothing, nothing.” Sounded like a lie. “I just really missed you.”

  “Okay. Is Gunner all right?” But he could already see the answer since his boy was speed-racing right for them.

  Hugs had never hurt so bad in his life, but he didn’t want them to see how bad off he was, so he swallowed the pain and closed his eyes at the relief of having his little family together in his arms.

  Ten was laying sweet kisses along his jawline, and his body felt like it was floating. At least the pain was dulling, so he just let himself get wrapped up in the moment.

  “Kurt?” Ten asked.

  “Yeah, babe?” His voice sounded weird, like it was far away and echoing off canyon walls.

  “Kurt?” she asked again, but her pretty bell voice was pitched high and had an edge of panic to it. And when he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the Two Claws Clan sprinting for him. Trig’s eyes were locked on his and blazing gold. What the hell? Hell. Hell was a funny word. He would be there soon.

  Everything smelled like copper. Like pennies. His skin was tingling with the cold wind, and his hands were going numb. He couldn’t feel Tenlee or Gunner anymore. Ten eased back to look down at herself, but he didn’t understand. Her tank top was wet, and her arms were painted with crimson.

  “What happened? Ten? Whaa…” Shocked, Kurt looked down at his own chest.

  Ten wasn’t the one bleeding.

  He was.

  The edges of his vision were shattering inward, darkening the edges until he could only see them—his Ten and his boy.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered to them. “I’m so sorry.”

  And then his legs gave out and the world went black. And the last thing he heard was Ten saying over and over, “I love you. I can fix it. I love you. I can fix it.” And then her soft plead right next to his ear. “I wish you won’t leave me.”

  And in the final moments of his life, Kurt’s heart broke, because she’d never asked for anything for herself. His wishing squirrel had never made a wish for herself…until now.

  And he couldn’t grant it.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It was hard for Ten to stay human when she was this worried about her mate.

  She was sitting on Gunner’s bed, and he was all curled up in her lap sleeping as she rocked him. It was late and he’d been tired, but she was good at this part—getting him into a deep sleep.

  She didn’t have a guess at how much he missed a mother figure. She only knew what she saw and experienced, and he was thirsty for affection like she was.

  The apartment was chock-full of friends. Trigger sat next to the wood-burning stove, chewing on his thumbnail as he hugged Ava close, who was on his lap, watching the flames with her head against her mate’s chest. Colt and Karis were sitting on the floor up against the kitchen cabinets, staring into the open bedroom door. Outside, Harley was kicking his stall every minute or so, being his usual asshole self. Ava had brought Norman inside, and he was sleeping in a little pile of half-grown, fuzzy cuteness near her feet. And in the bedroom, through the open door, Cooper and Trina were sitting right next to Kurt’s bed. Cooper had his head bowed as though he was praying, and Trina was checking bandages.

  Good. She should see how bad off Kurt was. It didn’t do anyone any good to hide the facts. Kurt was knocking on death’s door.

  Just the thought gutted her. The crows Ten could handle, but the poisoned, broken bonds? Ten didn’t understand them.

  When Cooper leaned forward and sank his teeth into Kurt’s arm, Ten sat up straight. What the fuck? He couldn’t lose any more blood!

  She settled Gunner on his bed and tossed Trigger a warning glance. Be ready.

  Ten made her way into the room to clock that old cougar for hurting her mate, but Cooper was leaning over Kurt now, forearm in his mouth, and Trina was pushing Kurt’s slack jaw so he sank his teeth into Cooper.

  Ten froze in the doorway, shocked as Cooper lifted his arm and dripped blood into Kurt’s mouth.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered.

  “Bonding us in the old ways,” he murmured. “He’s too far gone to do it himself.”

  “Is he going to die?” Tenlee asked.

  “Probably,” Trina answered. Tears were streaming down her face as she bit Kurt’s arm over Coopers teeth marks.

  Ten slid down the wall by the door, hands over her mouth as her eyes burned with tears and her heart burned with agony. His breathing was so shallow his chest barely pressed against his bloody bandages, and his skin was white as a sheet.

  Trina’s tears spilled onto his chest as she put her forearm in his mouth and waited for Cooper to shove Kurt’s jaw forward. They were making him an Alpha in the last minutes of his life.

  Trina stood back and lifted her chin, clutched her bleeding arm to her chest. She stared at Ten with glowing, silver eyes. “Your turn, little squirrel.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You can and you will. You’re his.” She twitched her head to Kurt’s still form. “He needs as much strength as he can get. You love him? Bleed for him.”

  Ten stood and pushed all thoughts of surrendering to the crows out of her mind. She would deal with that in two days. Right now, all that mattered was that Kurt’s chest kept lifting with his breath and his heart kept making that bum-bum, bum-bum sound.

  She bit his torn arm and then placed her forearm into his mouth. She looked to Trina and nodded. “Do it.”

  Trina snarled up her lip, but she looked proud, and then she shoved Kurt’s jaw and cut into Ten’s arm with his teeth.

  His throat barely moved with the motion of him swallowing. Cooper bowed next to the bed and whispered, “Alpha.”

  Trina did the s
ame.

  Ten knelt between them and squeezed his hand hard. “Come back to me, Alpha.”

  But all she could hear was the faint sound of him breathing and the crackle of the wood-burning stove in the other room. When she looked behind her, the others were piled in the doorway, watching Kurt’s chest rise and fall.

  They looked so sad.

  She’d found her place here, but Ten’s moments of happiness were numbered now by the shallow rise and fall of Kurt’s chest. Each struggling breath counted down to the end of his life, and to hers. And suddenly everything she’d been through piled up like a heavy mountain resting upon her shoulders. Her mom, a squirrel, had died first. A cat got her. And her dad went next in a bad winter. All those animals that had been afraid of her. And all those years she’d felt completely confused and alone. Meeting the crows and realizing who she was didn’t matter as much as what she was. The discovery of the most alienating word in the whole world—Origin. And Momma Crow, the only one she’d ever trusted in Red Dead Mayhem… Ten’s teacher had become her betrayer. Ramsey and his constant disappointment in her. All those crows focused on keeping her quiet and docile so their Alpha could stay steady. An entire Clan had stepped on her, crushing her neck with their boots while they stayed happy. And then when she’d finally gotten brave enough to run, she’d landed here and slowly, slowly found her place. She’d got a taste of happiness. Of freedom. And Kurt had been a huge part of that. She couldn’t be whole without him now. He made her brave. He taught her about love. This…losing Kurt… was too much on the fragile life she’d built. Every good part of her would die with him.

  Ten climbed into his bed and curled around him, staining the pillow with the tears that streamed from the corners of her eyes.

  “You’re mine. Can’t you see? You’re mine, and you’re not meant to go. Not yet. It’s too much. Too hard. You’re mine, and I’m yours, and I want you to stay. I need you to.”

  That’s when she felt the hands on her back. So many of them. Trina and Cooper, Ava and Trigger, Karis and Colt. Colt. Her best friend, even if he didn’t accept it. Her people were trying to keep her from breaking apart, too.

  “Ten,” Trina whispered. “Look.”

  Ten wiped her damp cheek on her shoulder, and lifted her head. Kurt looked dead already, pale, eyes closed, chest still, but on his throat, the gashes from the Alpha fight…well…they were closing up.

  Ten gasped and sat up, then pulled at the bandages on Kurt’s chest.

  “Here,” Colt murmured, handing her a knife with a deer-antler handle. With shaking hands, she pulled at the gauze and cut it away. Cut, cut, cut. She straddled him, watching in shock, as the wide-open gashes on his body fused together and healed into silver scars.

  “Oh my gosh,” she murmured, “it’s working.” She still felt every bit of that heaviness in her chest from earlier, but he was healing.

  Trina and Cooper looked pale as ghosts, but they were standing next to the bed with hope swimming in their eyes.

  Kurt coughed and squinted one eye open. Suspiciously, he looked around the room, only his eyes moving. When his gaze landed back on Ten, in a sleep-filled voice, he asked, “Are we having sex?”

  Ten laughed thickly and shook her head. “No, we aren’t having sex. It’s something even better.”

  Kurt scrunched up his face. “What the fuck could be better than sex?”

  “I meeeean…the man has a point,” Colt said from behind them.

  And okay, Ten was straddling his hips. He was probably confused, but right now she didn’t care enough to get embarrassed. Kurt gripped her thighs and took a deep, easy breath. “What happened?”

  She parted her lips to tell him he would live to see Gunner grow up, but she couldn’t get a word past her tightened throat. They’d done it.

  Trig answered for her. “Your mate fixed your life, man. She wouldn’t quit on you.”

  Ten’s face crumpled, and she looked over at Cooper and Trina, overwhelmed with racing thoughts and relief. “Thank you,” she rasped out. She couldn’t repay them now, but someday she would find a way.

  Trina dropped her face in her hands, and her torso shook with her crying.

  Cooper rubbed his daughter’s back, but his eyes were on Kurt. “Everything is gonna be okay,” he promised him.

  And Ten believed him. Oh, she knew her fate. Knew where she was headed, but for the New Darby Clan and Two Claws Clan, everything would be okay. With or without her.

  She was going to make sure of it.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ready for good memories?

  Kurt frowned at the scribbled note he’d found on the pillow next to him. It was in Ten’s handwriting. She’d told him once she’d struggled to learn to write with Momma Crow, and so her handwriting wasn’t the best. But for him? He adored the chicken-scratch because it was a part of her story. So what? She didn’t have perfect writing. Every letter was a testament to her resilience. And he smiled at the heart she’d drawn to dot the i in the word memories.

  Holy shit, he felt like he’d been leveled by a Mack truck. That was good though, right? It meant he was still alive? Still kickin’? He felt half dead, but half-dead was way better than all-dead.

  With a grunt of effort, Kurt sat up in bed.

  “Ten?” he called. “Gunner?”

  No answer.

  Where was everyone?

  Kurt positioned himself on the edge of the bed and scrubbed his hands over his face. “What happened? The last thing he remembered was coming out of the precinct. And…Ten. Then Trina? Cooper? The Two Claws Clan gathered around him? Maybe that part was a dream.

  Fuck, what time was it? He squinted out the bedroom window but the mid-day sun was blasting him in the face. Why hadn’t his alarm gone off? Or why hadn’t Trigger and Colt come in here yelling at him for being a lazy SOB. Or why hadn’t Gunner woken him up beggin’ pancakes? Or Ten, pressing her perfect tits on him asking for dick.

  “Hello?” he called to no answer.

  God, he was so confused. What day was it? What year was it? What century?

  He dragged his palm down his beard. It wasn’t much longer. There was a pair of sleeping bags on the floor. What the hell? He stood with a grunt and stretched his arms up as far as they would go. His muscles were achy, but the stretch helped. He cracked his neck as he padded into the living room, the wooden floorboards cool under his bare feet. He frowned at the sleeping bags around Gunner’s bed. Okaaay. He’d apparently slept through a huge slumber party.

  As he chugged milk straight from the jug, he realized the floor was covered in pillows and blankets. The soreness in his muscles was easing by the second. Kurt replaced the lid, shoved the milk back in the fridge, and shut the door. A new picture held by a yellow, magnetic chip clip fluttered on it. It was a new drawing by Gunner. On it were stick figures holding hands with messy printed names above each one. Trina, Cooper, Ten, Gunner, Alpha.

  Alpha?

  At the bottom in messy bubble letters, it said The New Darby Clan, and Gunner had signed it Gunner Boy.

  Huh.

  A shower. He needed a scalding hot shower, and it would clear this fog of confusion from his head.

  In the bathroom, the mirror started steaming up immediately after he hit the hot tap. As he stood with one arm locked against the edge of the sink, brushing his teeth, frowning at his lightened eyes, wondering what the hell he’d slept through, it hit him like lightning.

  His chest. It wasn’t bleeding.

  It didn’t even hurt.

  Kurt jerked upright. He bit down on his toothbrush to hold it in place so he could run his hands over his torso. No pain. No open gashes. Just silver scars. “What the fuck, what the fuck?” he muttered around the minty foam in his mouth.

  He spit and rinsed and then twisted in the mirror, checking the claw marks that Chase, the former Darby Clan Alpha, had made the night Kurt had killed him. Silver scars. All healed. The ones on his neck? Healed. On his arms? Healed. And other than a littl
e muscle stiffness, he didn’t hurt. For the first time in months, he didn’t hurt.

  He let off a shocked laugh and ran his palm across the fogged-up mirror to look at his chest again. “I’m alive,” he murmured. “I’m alive,” he said louder just to test the words. Holy fuck.

  He’d never been so stunned in his whole life. Kurt stepped into the shower just to wash away the layer of fear he’d worn since that Alpha challenge. Fear of not being here for Gunner. Fear of getting close to Ten. Fear of letting her and his boy down. Fear of missing their whole lives. He’d kept it all inside all these months so that he wouldn’t make his dying any harder on the people he loved.

  And as the hot water blasted against his skin, he just…broke. His back hit the shower wall, and he slid down. He went to pieces with relief. He had these vivid memories of Trig’s dad and the impact he had on his son. Kurt had been thinking he wouldn’t be able to be that for Gunner. Thinking his boy would eventually forget what he even looked like.

  There was a soft knock on the door. “Kurt?” Ten asked in a small voice.

  He tried to call out that he was a mess, don’t come in, but nothing came out. He was too choked up.

  The door creaked open. When she pushed the shower curtain to the side, he could see her. His Ten. She was an angel. Wild, pretty hair, her cheeks all pink, her soft brown eyes full of emotion as she dragged her gaze over his body.

  “What did you do?” he whispered.

  Ten pulled her shirt over her head. And then she shucked her jeans, climbed into the tub with him, and curled against his chest, right between his legs, as the water rained down on them.

  “You made a wish that I could save you.” She lifted his arm and traced half-healed bite marks. “You just needed the strength of a Clan under you, Alpha.”

  He rubbed his cheek on the top of her head and hugged her tight against him. So that’s how she’d done it. She’d made him an Alpha. She’d brought in Trina and Cooper. That’s what Gunner’s picture was. “I’m really alive,” he croaked out, his throat hurting from the grit of his feelings. He never cried. Never.