Dark Wolf Returning

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Dark Wolf Returning Page 12

by Rhyannon Byrd


  “Eli?” Eric prompted in a low voice.

  Coming to a stop in the middle of the kitchen floor, he gave a hard swallow, then forced out a quiet, “Yeah, I knew.”

  His brother’s deep voice was rough with surprise. “And you left her anyway?”

  Lifting his head, he locked his gaze with Eric’s. “I knew she was mine, but I didn’t know that the bond had formed. Or at least some of it.”

  “Some of it?” Eric asked, shaking his head. “How is that even possible?”

  Elise gave a soft laugh, speaking up for the first time since she’d sat down. “It’s not too crazy if you think about it. I mean, Eli is as alpha as a Lycan can get, not to mention as pure-blooded, which means he probably has supercharged sex hormones or whatever it is that causes the bonding.”

  Eric waved his arms wildly, looking ridiculous. “Shit, stop!” he said to El. “Don’t talk about Eli’s freaking super sperm when I’m in the same room with you. That is not something I want to hear about.”

  “I didn’t say super sperm,” Elise argued, rolling her eyes. “I said supercharged sex hormones.”

  Eli used his good hand to cover his eyes, his ears hot, and wondered how he could get them to just shut up.

  “And then there’s Carla,” Elise went on to say, obviously not ready to let the subject drop. “She’s as badass as a female can get. It’s not surprising the bond managed to at least partially take when you think about how potent they both are.”

  Eric groaned. “New topic, now, you little imp.”

  “You’re such a baby,” she said with another laugh, and Eli lowered his hand just in time to catch her tossing a balled-up napkin at their brother.

  Eric grimaced as he batted the napkin away. “I’m not a baby. I just don’t like thinking about my brother’s...potency.”

  “Back atcha,” Eli grunted. He’d just started to head back over to the table to take a seat, when a deep male voice let out a guttural string of curses right outside the kitchen window, followed by an equally pissed off sounding voice that definitely belonged to a woman. “Who the hell is that?” he asked, looking from Eric to Elise.

  She stood up and peered through the slanted blinds. “Holy shit,” she gasped. “It’s Cian and Sayre!”

  Eric frowned. “Are they arguing again?”

  “Let’s just say that if looks could kill, I’m pretty sure the Irishman would be pushing up daisies right about now.” Shaking her head, she turned away from the window and sat back down at the table. “She just stomped off into the woods, and he stormed around the back of the cabin, probably heading back over to his place.”

  “What’s the deal with those two, anyway?” Eli asked the question as he sat down, glad to have the focus off him and Carla for the moment.

  “Who the hell knows?” Eric muttered, pushing his hands in his front pockets as he shrugged his shoulders. “He won’t touch her, but he won’t let any other guy get close to her, either. If he wants her, and I’m thinking he does, then he probably thinks she’s too young for him.”

  “Isn’t she?”

  “Probably,” Eric said again. “But then, from what I understand from the other Runners, no one’s really sure of the guy’s exact age.”

  Eli lifted his brows. “Didn’t he grow up with all of them?”

  Eric shook his head. “He spent time here visiting when they were in their teens, but lived in Ireland most of the time. He didn’t move to these mountains permanently until later.”

  “He can be such a smartass,” Elise murmured, “but he’s a gorgeous one. And that accent of his is downright sinful, which I’m sure hasn’t escaped the girl’s notice. But there are a lot of issues working against him, like her age, his reputation as a man-whore, and his whole ‘my past is a secret’ thing. And then there’s the fact that her mother hates his guts. Woman turns red every time she sees him.”

  Eli snorted. “I wouldn’t think Hennessey would let a mother get in his way.”

  “You know what Constance is like,” Eric said with a low laugh. “That’s one extremely wicked witch when she sets her mind to it.”

  “True,” he agreed, recalling the times when she’d scared the crap out of him and his friends when he was younger and she’d caught them doing something they shouldn’t be. “But Hennessey has never struck me as the kind of guy who would let something like that get to him.”

  “Yeah. Constance Murphy is a pain in his ass, but despite all of it, the fact is that he’s the one making his life hard at the moment.”

  Nodding, Eli said, “The guy’s stubborn.”

  Eric’s voice was dry. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

  He shot his brother a dark look. “Different situations.”

  “Are they? If I had to bet, I’d say Cian’s afraid of putting the girl in a dangerous situation, though no one knows what that is. But he’s no doubt trying to protect her.”

  “Then maybe you should give the guy a break,” he shot back.

  “I will,” Eric muttered, “just as soon as he’s manned up.”

  Despite his foul mood, Eli couldn’t help but bark out a gritty laugh. “I have a feeling Hennessey would have your damn balls if he heard you say that.”

  Though frustration still burned in his hard gaze, Eric’s lips twitched with a grin. “He could try.”

  Glancing at the clock on the wall, Elise said, “I hate to break this up, but Wyatt will be home soon. Do you guys want to stay for dinner?”

  “Chelsea’s making lasagna,” Eric said, pushing away from the sink, “but why don’t you guys come over and join us? I know she’d love to have you over.”

  “That would be fun,” she said with a smile.

  Eric’s gray gaze returned to his. “Eli?”

  Thinking that Carla might come along with his sister and Wyatt, he moved back to his feet and said, “Yeah, I can make it. I just need to head over to the cabin and grab a shower.”

  “I’ll head out with you, then,” Eric said. “I need a smoke.”

  They hugged Elise goodbye, leaving her to get ready, then walked out onto the front porch. He started to tell Eric he’d see him later, when his brother said, “I have one more question before you run off.”

  He sighed, propping his shoulder against one of the wooden posts that supported the porch’s roof, and watched as Eric lit the cigarette he’d taken from the pack in his pocket. He’d have wagered every penny to his name that Eric’s question was about Carla, his suspicions confirmed when his brother looked him in the eye and asked, “Is she the reason you’ve stayed away? I mean, once you heard that Dad and the League were dead and realized you could come back home? Is she the reason why you didn’t?”

  “Yeah,” he rasped, taking the easy way out with that oversimplified response.

  Eric’s pale gaze searched his with piercing intensity. “And do you love her?”

  A hollow laugh punched from his chest, and he started to shove his hands in his pockets, before realizing he still had the dishtowel wrapped around his shredded knuckles.

  Exhaling a silvery stream of smoke, Eric frowned. “That’s not an answer, man.”

  He rubbed his good hand over his mouth, then gave another heavy sigh. “I’ve been trying to figure out how I feel about her ever since she walked back into my life and punched me in the mouth.”

  His brother laughed. “That sounds like Carla.”

  Lips twitching with a wry smile, he said, “Yeah, she’s definitely got a temper on her.”

  “So you gonna answer the question?” Eric pressed, taking another deep drag on his cigarette.

  Eli shifted his gaze over Eric’s shoulder, staring out at the forest, the heavy tree limbs swaying like giant beasts in the wind, and struggled to put his thoughts in some kind of order that made sense. A few moments later, he drew in a deep breath of the fresh mountain air, and gave his brother the truth. “Yeah, I love her,” he said in a low voice that thrummed with emotion. “I loved her when I left, and despite all th
e bullshit I started to tell myself over the years, trying to stay away, I never stopped loving her.” Looking away from the sky, he took another deep breath as he settled his gaze back on Eric. “Somehow, I love her even more now. So much that it’s scaring the hell out of me.”

  Eric’s dark brows were drawn with concern. “Because you’re worried you’ll lose her?”

  “I’m worried about all of it,” he admitted gruffly, scrubbing his hand down his face. “Her safety is part of it. I hate the danger she puts herself in, like she’s got some kind of death wish. But then there’s the fact that she keeps claiming to want her freedom. Not to mention the strong chance that she might never be able to forgive me for leaving her or learn to love me back. That she might get tired of it all and walk away for good.” Destroying our bond and leaving me with...nothing.

  With a sharp exhale, his brother said, “I get what you’re saying, Eli. I really do. But you need to stop and take a long hard look at what Carla’s capable of. She’s not like our mother was. She’s not...fragile.”

  He frowned, thinking the topic of his mother was the last thing he wanted to come up right now.

  “And secondly,” Eric was saying, “do you know what I remember most from when we were younger?”

  He shook his head, eyeing his brother with a careful gaze.

  Jerking his chin toward him, Eric said, “The way you never gave up, man, no matter what you were up against.”

  “This is different,” he grunted.

  “Oh, yeah?” Eric murmured, lifting his brows with a challenging look. “How?”

  Grimacing, he crossed his arms back over his chest and said, “I can’t make her forgive me, Eric. I can’t force her to give me a second chance.”

  “And have you asked for one? For a second chance?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and cursed, realizing that all he’d actually told her was that he was sorry for hurting her...and that he wanted in her bed. He’d never really gotten around to explaining what he wanted after that, but then, she hadn’t exactly given him the opportunity to.

  “Eli, if you want her, let her know. Be honest with her. You’ll never know what could have been if you aren’t, and you’ll end up regretting it till the day you die.”

  “I just don’t kn...” He trailed off when he suddenly caught sight of a worried-looking Sayre running back into the Alley, her pale face flushed with color and her blue-gray eyes wide with panic.

  “Jeremy!” she shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth as she stood just off to the side of Elise and Wyatt’s porch.

  Eric tossed his cigarette aside and raced down the steps with Eli right behind him. “Sayre, what’s going on?” his brother asked the girl.

  She turned toward them, grabbing Eric’s arm as she started talking in a rush. “There’s been a...a...damn it, I don’t know what to call it.”

  “Just take a deep breath and tell us what happened,” Eric said, while the hairs on the back of Eli’s neck lifted as something inside him twisted with fear.

  “A woman,” Sayre panted, her knuckles turning white as she gripped Eric’s arm even tighter. “A Whiteclaw female...she escaped from Hawkley and came to us for help. But she wasn’t alone. She was followed here by one of their soldiers.”

  “Jesus,” Eric hissed. “Is she all right? Is everyone okay?”

  “She’ll be fine. Jillian is with her in the woods. Everyone’s fine. But that man...he tried to kill her...and Carla... Ohmygod, she was so amazing!”

  Eli’s head jerked back as if he’d just been clipped on the chin. “Carla? What the hell was she doing there?”

  “She must have shown up just before I did. I think we were both looking for Jillian, and Carla saved her. She saved them both,” Sayre told them, her big eyes shining with shock as she looked from one to the other. “She put herself between them and that maniac—”

  “She what?” Eli roared, making the young witch flinch.

  “She saved the woman and Jillian. The woman was clinging to my sister for help, and he would have killed them both, but she saved them. It was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen. I would have helped her, but by the time I realized what was happening, he was already going down.”

  “Sayre,” he croaked, a cold sweat breaking out over his face, “where is the man now?”

  She brought her wide eyes back to his, and blinked up at him. “He’s dead.”

  “Dead?”

  Voice soft with awe, she nodded and said, “Carla killed him.”

  Chapter 8

  They’d brought the woman, who appeared to be in her early thirties and was named Rachel, back to Jeremy and Jillian’s cabin. All the Runners were gathered in the couple’s living room, along with Eli’s men, ready to hear the full story.

  Sayre had offered the woman a damp washcloth, which she was using to wipe the dirt and smears of blood from her bruised, tear-streaked face as she sat in a chair that’d been placed in front of the empty fireplace. Her eyes were wide with apprehension, moving from one person to another. She looked overwhelmed and more than a little frightened, but there was also a fierce sense of determination in her dark gaze that made Eli think she just might be the real deal, instead of a spy sent to infiltrate their ranks.

  Of course, that didn’t make him feel any calmer about what Carla had done.

  Eli had managed to plant himself right at the little Bloodrunner’s side the moment she’d entered the cabin, and he was still seething with fury. The Whiteclaw she’d taken down had been a goddamn behemoth. At least six-six, with probably more than a hundred pounds on her. He didn’t know what the hell she’d been thinking.

  While everyone was still getting situated, he kept his narrowed gaze focused on the woman as he spoke to Carla. “Do you have any idea what that asshole could have done to you?”

  He’d kept his voice low, barely above a whisper, but knew she’d heard him from the stiffening of her posture. Then she asked, “Does it matter? Fighting him was a risk I was willing to take. Do you honestly think I would have just left Jillian there to deal with him herself?”

  “She’s powerful. She could have handled it.”

  “She’s also pregnant, you ass. And like family to me. I would never turn my back on someone I cared about, no matter how dangerous the situation was.”

  He ground his back teeth together, ready to grab her arm and drag her to someplace private where they could talk. Yeah, it was a caveman move, but he was desperate enough to use it.

  “Whatever you’re thinking,” said a deep voice on his other side, “I wouldn’t try it.”

  He turned his head and found Wyatt watching him with a hard, steady gaze. Before he could tell the Runner to mind his own damn business, Wyatt said, “The two of you need to sort this out later. Right now, we need to hear what this woman has to say.”

  He jerked his chin in agreement, knowing it was the right move, but still too pissed off to be civil about it. A few moments later, the room finally settled down, quieting, and he realized Rachel’s dark gaze was focused intently on Carla. The woman lowered the washcloth to her lap, her fingers clenched around the damp cotton, and swallowed hard before saying, “You’re the female Runner, aren’t you?”

  From the corner of his eye, Eli watched Carla give the woman a wary nod.

  Tears glistened in Rachel’s eyes as she whispered a heartfelt, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  At Carla’s uncertain look, the woman lifted her chin and said, “You gave me the courage to fight back and escape. We all—the other women and I—we all heard about the half-human female who bested the Whiteclaw soldiers in Hawkley and got away. It...you...what you did, it inspired us.”

  “Oh, um, that’s...wonderful,” Carla managed to get out, though he could tell by the huskiness of her voice that she’d been floored by what the woman had just said.

  Sitting beside his wife, Torrance, on the arm of one of the leather sofas, Mason said, “Rachel, what is it that you want? Is there somepl
ace you’re trying to reach?”

  Strands of short black hair stuck to her battered face as she shook her head, her watery gaze shifting to the tall Runner. “I...I want to stay here. I’m seeking sanctuary,” she told him. “And I’m not the only one. There are others. They just...they don’t know how to get away.”

  “But you did?”

  More tears spilled over her pale cheeks as she shook her head again. “I would have brought them with me, but I...I didn’t have a plan. I just saw the opportunity, and I took it. I knew that if I didn’t, I might never get another one.”

  “How do we know you’re for real?”

  “Eric, don’t,” Chelsea murmured at his brother’s side, grasping his hand in hers. Eli had only spoken to his brother’s human life mate a few times, but he liked her. She was a beautiful woman, but more than that, she was...real. And as head over heels in love with his brother as Pallaton was with his sister.

  “No, it’s okay,” Rachel murmured, taking a deep breath. “I understand why you would be concerned, given everything that my pack has done. But I can prove that I’m for real. I can...I can give you information.”

  Brody spoke up for the first time from his position against the far wall, between his wife and his Bloodrunning partner, Cian. “What kind of information?”

  The woman wet her lips, then said, “I know where they’ve stored the drugs. The ones they take to make them stronger and mask their scents.”

  In a soft, lilting burr, Cian asked, “And why would you help us?”

  A shudder worked its way through her narrow frame, making Eli wonder just what this woman had lived through with her pack. She cleared her throat, her gaze lowered to her lap as she scraped out, “Because of Roy’s greed. It’s...it’s like a sickness. His arrogance is spreading, and the men are...they’re out of control.” Pulling in another deep, ragged breath, she lifted her head and locked her shattered gaze with Carla’s, as if seeking strength as she quietly added, “They...they do whatever they want, to the ones like me. With the way things are now, any female who is unmated is considered...fair game.”

 

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