Awakened by the Wolf

by Kristal Hollis

  Wiping his mouth, Shane shot a glance at Hadler’s mutilated corpse. “I’d rather not wait around to explain that.”

  “No one in Walker’s Run will judge you for what Hadler did to you.”

  Shane remained quiet, his gaze lowered.

  “Think you can make it out to the road?” Brice asked.

  “Yeah, I’m okay.”

  “Good.” Brice shifted into his wolf, howled his response to the wolf calls and turned his muzzle to Shane, who also shifted. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  Chapter 38

  Cassie flicked the nearest air vent closed. It was too hot to sit inside the Jeep without running the air conditioner and too cold with the stream blowing directly on her.

  Although aggravated, Cassie didn’t try to escape her vehicular prison. She had nowhere to go until she knew Brice was safe. At least he wasn’t facing Vincent Hadler alone now.

  Shane arrived as she and wolfy Rafe reached the Jeep. Shane turned wolf—his clothes disintegrating during the shift—and darted into the woods. Thankfully Rafe didn’t try to stop him. He simply shoved her inside the Jeep, yanked his clothes off the seat, and set up guard like a rottweiler.

  Barefooted, dressed in a pair of jeans and an unbuttoned shirt, he patrolled the perimeter of the Jeep, his arms crossed high over his chest. No one made it past Rafe to question her.

  Not even Gavin Walker, who had arrived with Tristan and Mr. Coots. There might have been some teeth bared during the growl fest, but she wasn’t one hundred percent sure, because Dr. Habersham stepped in and blocked her view.

  Clutching Brice’s clothes, Cassie breathed in his scent. Clean and woodsy. Cassie hugged herself, remembering the way he made her feel safe and secure.

  Her eyes burned, and a hot lump of gratitude formed in her throat. Brice had come for her. Maybe there was something to this mate-bond thing after all. Maybe she could become a part of his life. But could she ever be a part of them?

  She studied the throng of Wahyas. Once the Walkers and their entourage arrived, a series of loud bays commenced until answered by a single, crisp, clear howl that Cassie instinctively recognized as Brice. Utter relief made her lightheaded.

  The jubilant cheers had since subsided. The minutes dragged, and Cassie spotted a definite restlessness among the wolf people. Their jerky head nods and squinted glances in her direction were hard to miss. If Brice didn’t make an appearance soon, Cassie wondered if they would turn on her.

  She immediately regretted her thoughts. The Walkers, Shane, Hannah and Tristan were nice, decent people who wouldn’t hurt her or anyone else. She might’ve included Rafe, but he had threatened to knock her out, and the way people backed away from him whenever he snapped at them for getting too close—well, he might be a little more dangerous than she ever imagined.

  A hush spread through the crowd. Cassie leaned against the window and peered in the direction they had turned. Her heartbeat marked the passing of each second until two wolves emerged.

  “Brice!” Cassie absconded from the Jeep in total disregard of Rafe’s orders to stay put.

  The throng of people split, giving her a clear path as she ran. A golden wolf edged away from the black. By the time Cassie reached him, Brice had changed into his human form.

  He scooped her into his arms and swung her in circles, holding her so tight that she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t care that he was dirty, sweaty and bloody, or that she might pass out from lack of oxygen. He was alive. That’s all that mattered.

  “You’re safe, baby,” he crooned in her ear. “Hadler won’t hurt you or anyone else again.”

  “He’s dead, isn’t he?” She sucked in her breath.

  “Yes.” Brice set Cassie on her feet. “I had to put him down to keep everyone safe. You understand that, don’t you?”

  “I want to.” Cassie clung to Brice. The powerful beat of his heart thumped a reassuring rhythm. “But I can’t handle anything else. I’m at my limit.”

  “Trust me to handle what you can’t.” His fingers sifted through her hair before his thumbs hooked beneath her jaw, tilting her face to his. “When you feel the urge to run, run to me, not away.”

  His lips brushed her mouth in a kiss that electrified her body. She wanted to trust him, to believe the bond he claimed existed between them was real. In time, maybe she’d overcome the hesitation to put all her faith in someone other than herself.

  Rafe handed Brice his pants. He dressed, answering his father’s questions. A few times Brice nodded toward Shane, wrapped in a saddle blanket Tristan had given him.

  A black car bearing the Walker’s Run logo bounced to a stop. The crowd’s excitement escalated from a mosquito hum to a full-blown roar. Anticipation built as Booker Reynolds, Adam Foster, Philip Bartolomew and Michael Krussen exited the vehicle.

  “It appears we’re too late.” Michael’s stern gaze targeted Brice. “Of all people, I would’ve expected a better handling of the situation from you.”

  “Some things can’t be negotiated,” Brice replied. “Protecting my mate, my family and my friends, among them.”

  “Unless I’m mistaken, you haven’t claimed a mate.” Booker’s upper lip lifted in a derisive curl.

  “I claimed him,” Cassie said over her thundering heart. Normally she didn’t make her private affairs public. However, now it seemed prudent.

  Brice lifted his arm to show everyone the faded bruise from Cassie’s bite.

  “Your mark is meaningless.” Booker looked down his long, slender nose at Cassie.

  “Not to me.” The harsh lines around Brice’s eyes and mouth faded in the brightness of his smile when he looked at her.

  Cassie relaxed, knowing she’d said the right thing.

  “You are out of control. You killed a man who posed no threat to you.” Booker’s nostrils flared, pulling back his lips to expose his canines. “We were leaving this afternoon.”

  “Vincent Hadler wasn’t going anywhere.” A chill rose from Cassie’s clenched stomach. “He wanted to take over Walker’s Run. He said the pack and I were his retribution.”

  “For what?” Philip asked over the crowd’s murmurs.

  “I killed Hadler’s packmates.” Brice’s crisp, clear voice silenced the whisperings. “Because they killed Mason.”

  Cassie’s breath caught in her throat. For a split second, time was suspended as if a black hole imploded, sucking sound and oxygen, thought and reason into a glass vacuum. No one moved, not even a blink.

  Then everything rushed forward with the speed of an Amtrak making up for lost time. The vibration of two dozen voices yelling at once gloved Cassie’s skin with the eeriness of walking into a hundred spiderwebs. She rubbed her arms, but the sensation bore into her muscles and anchored in her bones.

  Cassie glanced at Brice. His clamped jaw stretched his skin in such a way that it sharpened his facial features. He resembled a marble carving of an avenging angel. She sensed the violence in him and his restraint.

  Yes, he had an animalistic side, but Brice also had compassion and intelligence. For that, Cassie was grateful. If Brice and his kind turned into vicious animals to handle every problem, Cassie would never be comfortable living among them.

  Wait—was she actually considering a life with him?

  Her stomach rolled in a loop-the-loop. The fun kind, like the thrill of flying upside down on a roller coaster. Only this wasn’t the time to be heady.

  Vincent Hadler was dead.

  Now that everyone knew who had murdered Mason Walker, Cassie hoped Brice would let go of the past. Although from the way he ground his teeth, he had quite a bit more to say before he could.

  “Hadler said someone hired them to kill Mason.” Brice turned to his father. “They were tracking us all along. It wasn’t my fault. I’m not the reason
Mason died.”

  “I never thought you were, son.” The sternness in Gavin Walker’s face softened. “No one did.”

  Brice’s breath escaped in a rush. Even as apparent peace settled between father and son, discontent bobbed among the crowd.

  “Booker.” Abigail Walker’s voice wavered, and Gavin laced his fingers through hers.

  The sweet gesture of unity broke open Cassie’s heart. Sick of self-imposed isolation, she craved the comfort of family and friends.

  Brice kissed the crown of her head, and his warmth spread through her, down to the soles of her feet. Still, she wondered how much of his affection stemmed from the promise he’d made to Margaret.

  Vows were solemn to Brice. Would he ever see her as more than an obligation to fulfill? How would she ever know the truth?

  “Did you know Vincent had attacked my sons?”

  “Abigail.” Although Booker’s arms opened in a supplicant manner, his cold, beady eyes ruined the effect. “Brice accuses a wolfan unable to defend his honor. It’s understandable that you want to believe him, but Brice has been under significant stress. His accusation isn’t credible.”

  “Do you have proof?” Michael addressed Brice.

  “I finally recognized Hadler’s true scent, and he was more than happy to brag. That’s all the proof I needed.” Brice exuded so much confidence that Cassie believed anyone who doubted him would have to be crazy.

  “Forgive me.” Booker dramatically waved his hand over his heart. “I require something more substantial than hearsay and your fluctuating sense of smell.”

  Brice’s unconcerned shrug reflected the crowd’s attitude. It appeared all stood behind him one hundred percent.

  “I accept Brice’s word.” Philip’s authoritative reply eased some of Cassie’s apprehension. “The council would not have offered him an apprenticeship if we had any doubts about his credibility or integrity.”

  “Apprenticeship?” Cassie’s question drowned in the crowd’s collective gasp. Apparently Brice had kept this news from everyone. Was he planning to leave just when she was warming to the idea of staying?

  “This is an outrage,” Booker bellowed above the bustle. “The council cannot be tainted by wolfans with impure bloodlines.”

  “The council is aware of your elitist position, Booker. However, we do not share it,” Philip snapped. “On every task presented, Brice demonstrated the aptitude and temperament the council seeks.”

  “As did Brice’s brother,” Michael added. “Since we now know that his death wasn’t a matter of circumstance, I must ask, Booker, was Vincent Hadler operating on your order when he killed Mason Walker?”

  Unless the morning sun had wreaked havoc on Cassie’s eyes, the bronze color in Booker’s face lightened about three shades. A faint grimace flickered across his standard bland expression.

  “Booker.” Abigail walked to him and smacked him hard across the face. An angry splotch of red stained his cheek. “You son of a bitch. How could you do this to me?”

  Cassie expected Booker Reynolds to deny involvement, to sweet-talk Abigail Walker and make people believe there had been a grave misunderstanding.

  “You were mine,” Booker’s unrepentant voice thundered.

  “I was never yours.” Abigail’s pronouncement muffled Booker’s echo.

  An eerie stillness engulfed the entire area. No gasps or whispers emanated from the crowd. No birds chirped. No bugs hummed. No cars rumbled on the road. No planes trekked across the sky. The wind suddenly fell into oblivion.

  Cassie dragged her gaze from them to Brice. Like the others’, his eyes were transfixed on his mother and her oldest friend.

  “Brice,” Cassie whispered, uneasy in the heightening tension. “Stop this before it gets out of hand.”

  “You would’ve been mine, Abigail. Should have been mine.” Booker’s face turned a deep cranberry. The veins at his temples bulged, as did those in his neck. He pointed a long, spindly finger at Gavin. “That half-breed stole you from me, defiled you with his seed, and there was nothing I could do to save you.” Indignant and proud, Booker tugged at his coat lapel. “However, I won’t allow his abomination to desecrate the sacredness of the Woelfesenat.”

  “Mason and Brice are not abominations. They are my children. I conceived them. Carried them. Birthed them. Nursed them at my breast. They are mine, Booker. You are the one who stole from me!” Her last word rolled into a growl. She sprang into the air as a sleek black wolf.

  Booker Reynolds’s startled eyes bugged and his faced paled as all the color spewed out of the gaping hole where his neck had been.

  A deafening scream ricocheted around Cassie. Her burning throat steamed the air she swallowed. No longer could she feel Brice’s strength or the warmth of his body. The sunlight failed, casting shadows everywhere. Her heart banged in her head but couldn’t silence the roaring vortex that sucked the crowd, the woods and everything in between into a frenzied whirlpool of dark chaos.

  Chapter 39

  Fucking hell breaking loose was nothing compared to a pack of Wahyas hell-bent on vengeance. Grateful Cassie fainted before the frenzy exploded into insanity, Brice swung her over his shoulder and rushed behind Rafe, who cleared a path to the Jeep.

  No one in the pack would hurt Cassie. On that Brice would stake his life. However, if she saw the frenzy of wolves descending on Booker Reynolds’s remains, she would never get the savagery out of her mind.

  It was bad enough for her to witness the first strike. Brice hadn’t anticipated such an immediate reaction from his mother. Of course, he hadn’t expected Reynolds to confess, either. A call for a formal hearing in front of a fully seated Woelfesenat would’ve been more logical.

  Too late for that now. Philip and Michael would have to sort out the mess in the coming days.

  No wolfan would deny Abigail Walker her right to a mother’s justice, so the inquiry would be a simple formality. One Brice intended to keep Cassie out of. An interrogation, no matter how delicately conducted, was still an interrogation.

  Cassie said she’d reached her limit. This could break her.

  Rafe helped them inside the Jeep. After turning the vehicle around, he drove over the bumpy trail slower than a blind man on a Sunday. However, once they reached the highway, he chunked caution into the ditch. They made the twenty-minute drive to the turn to the Walker’s Run Resort in less than ten. Only when they passed the resort did he slow down again.

  They meandered past the rentals and snailed the hairpin curve. The closer they came to the cabin, the more Brice’s gut knotted. Rafe pulled to an easy stop in the driveway. Brice bounded up the steps with Cassie in his arms and headed straight to his room to lay her on the bed. Her face contorted as she took deep, staccato breaths. Her eyelids twitched open, and the fear in her eyes broke Brice’s heart.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he insisted softly.

  “Animals.” Cassie’s head bobbed in a tight, controlled shake. “You’re a bunch of wild animals pretending to be human. There’s nothing civil about you.”

  “What you saw was barbaric.” Brice perched on the edge of the bed to take the weight off his throbbing leg. “But that only happens in extreme circumstances.”

  “It seems to me that it happens a lot.” Cassie’s accusatory gaze landed on his scarred throat. “Normal people don’t rip out someone’s throat.”

  “Normal is relative to species. We do what we have to do to protect those we love. Wahyas have their own justice, and today it was served.” In his spirit, Brice felt Cassie falling away from him with the speed a runaway freight elevator.

  “When I moved out the first time, I shouldn’t have stopped in the hospital parking lot. I should’ve kept driving.” She looked at him with large, defeated eyes. “You’re never going to let me leave, are you? You’re going to ke
ep me here because of what I saw, because of what I know.”

  “You aren’t a liability, Cas. You’re my mate.” Brice’s heart climbed into his throat.

  “Don’t say that.” She clasped her hands over her ears. “I don’t want to be a part of this. Just leave me alone.”

  Brice reached for Cassie, wanting to calm her with his touch. She scurried to the far corner of the bed. Clamped in a flat seam, her lips whitened. The porcelain tone of her skin turned ashy.

  There would be no reasoning with her today. Perhaps not any day. Fear spread through her spirit, attacking the tendrils of the mate-bond. The infection fed into Brice, but he refused to let it take hold. Each beat of his heart shouted “I love you” through the mate-bond.

  The psychic declaration might’ve swayed a she-wolf. Cassie, however, drew her knees to her chin and buried her head beneath her arms. A total lockout.

  Numb, Brice stood and walked to the door. “I’ll have Doc come by to check on you.”

  “I’ve had my fill of wolves today. Thanks,” she answered without lifting her head.

  “Doc is human, Cas. You might feel better if you talked to him.”

  “I don’t need a doctor. Want me to feel better? Then leave me the hell alone. I want my life back to the way it was before I learned about werewolves.”

  “As you wish.” Brice backed out of the room. Pain banded around his chest, squeezing his heart until he felt it would burst. He wanted Cassie, needed her in his life.

  At the moment, she required the opposite.

  Air shredded his lungs. He staggered through the empty living room. The cabin that had always been his sanctuary closed in on him, stifling and stagnant. He had to get out.

  Nearing the kitchen, he heard a metronomic squeak outside. Brice walked out onto the back porch. Rafe rocked in the porch swing. His inquisitive gaze swept Brice’s face.

  The squeak stopped.

  “Sorry, man.” Rafe was probably the only person who understood the utter desolation consuming Brice.