Dire Wolves of London Box Set

by Carina Wilder

  “The Dragon Alpha,” Barton said. “I’ve heard his name is Lumen. Where does he live?”

  “Don’t know, don’t care,” said Phair. “In the sky, probably. He’s a sodding Dragon.”

  “Not helpful,” Barton said, lifting the drill up. But instead of pressing it to any part of Phair’s head, he pushed the tip of the vicious-looking bit into his right thigh. Slowly he began to turn the crank, until Phair could see the fabric on his trousers begin to shred.

  “Hey!” Cad said, “these are his best clothes, you plonker!”

  “He can buy new ones,” Barton snarled, “but buying new legs will be another matter.”

  Another turn and Phair winced as the tip of the bit met his flesh.

  Cad knew the Béorn shifter would never speak. Barton could have drilled clean into his head and he wouldn’t have been able to extract an answer. Whether he liked it or not, he was a Pack member, and he would never betray his Brothers or the Dragons’ Guild. Not Cad, not Roth, not Lumen. None of them. If Barton had any true understanding of shifters, he would have known it, too.

  “Before I dig deeper,” Barton said, pausing to look up at Phair, “do you have anything to say to me?”

  “Plenty,” Phair snarled. “For one thing, did you know that you’re going a little bald on top?”

  “Fuck you!” Barton shot back. He threw the drill to the ground and raced over to the bag to pull out a sharp knife. He was about to lunge towards Phair when a woman’s voice froze him in his tracks.

  “Don’t!” it called out. “Stop, please! I’ll do anything you want, just don’t hurt them!”

  Chapter 27

  All eyes in the room turned towards the doorway. Mir was wearing a green sweater, blue jeans and running shoes, and she’d never looked better.

  But it wasn’t her clothing that drew Phair and Cad’s attention. It was the strength in her eyes, in the way she carried herself.

  Her mates could see for the first time that she was no longer frightened. No longer at the mercy of the man who’d controlled her life for too long.

  The Ritual had changed her. Love had changed her.

  She’d found her power.

  She locked eyes first with Cad, then with Phair. “I made the call,” she told them. “They’ve got it.”

  “You shouldn’t be here,” said Phair. “You should go now…he’ll…”

  But he was too late. Barton was already striding over to her. Holding up the knife in his hand, he yanked a handful of her hair and dragged her into the room, the blade threatening to pierce her cheek.

  “Now would be a good time to get extra-angry, Phair,” said Cad, turning his way, an imploring look in his eye. “Barton wouldn’t like you when you’re angry, if you know what I mean.”

  “This really isn’t a good time to quote comic books, Cadman,” Phair snapped. But a moment later, like a light bulb springing to life in his mind, the Béorn shifter realized what Cad was on about.

  Phair had spent so much time since his procedure learning how to be gentle in his human form that he’d all but forgotten just how powerful he was.

  A low, terrifying growl crescendoed from his throat.

  “Let her go, Barton.” The veins pulsed in his neck, his flesh turning red with fierce rage.

  “You can’t shift,” Barton said. “Those shackles guard against it. So what are you going to do, talk me to death?” The knife drew a spot of blood from Mir’s cheek. Fuel for the Béorn’s rage.

  “Just keep talking,” Phair growled. “I dare you.”

  Barton pulled Mir’s head upwards, drawing the weapon away for a moment.

  “I think that instead of talking, I’ll act,” Barton said, moving the blade down towards her throat. “What would you think of me killing your mate?”

  A hurricane of furor assaulted Phair’s insides, and this time he didn’t try to pull it back. He embraced it, welcomed it like an old friend. He’d taught himself over the past month to keep his strength at bay, to fight back his rage. But now it was time to set himself free.

  Steel cuffs would be no match for him.

  Tearing his arms apart, he shattered the shackles that had been constricting him. He tore his legs free of the chair and rose to his feet, his immense chest rising and falling with the promise of the beast that was about to burst forth.

  Barton froze, the knife at Mir’s throat. He could still hurt her, if he wanted to. But something told Phair that he wouldn’t dare, not now.

  In his own twisted way, the bastard cared about her. He might even have thought he loved her, if he’d known what love actually was.

  “You won’t hurt her,” Phair said. “I know you won’t.” It wasn’t a question. “You don’t want to mar her loveliness. You never have. She’s your prized possession.”

  He looked into his lover’s eyes and she nodded quietly, understanding his meaning.

  In a series of movements so quick that they seemed impossible, she rammed her elbow into Barton’s chest, grabbed the knife from his hand and pulled away, spinning to face him.

  “I hate you,” she hissed. “I’ve always hated you for what you do here. For what you did to my sister, to me.”

  “Miranda…” he began, “I only did it because…”

  “I don’t want to hear it!” she yelled. Turning to Ivan, she said, “Unlock him.” She nodded towards Cad. “Now!”

  Ivan obliged, creeping submissively over to Cad. He unlocked the bindings at his wrists and untied his ankles.

  Barton, meanwhile, crept towards the door, but Phair was keeping a close eye on him. I dare you, he thought. Run if you will. My Béorn loves the chase.

  Sure enough, the arsehole darted out the door the moment Cad was free, followed closely by Ivan.

  “I can’t let them get away,” Phair said, looking at Mir. “You understand.”

  He sprinted out into the hall, charging towards the stairwell. He could smell Barton; he knew exactly where he’d gone. It wouldn’t be hard to catch him up.

  But it wasn’t until he’d made his way upstairs that he finally summoned the creature inside him. Like an explosion the enormous bear burst forth, so large that he tore through the plaster walls on either side of the hallway. Barton’s club was already crashing down around him, exactly as it should.

  The damned place should never have existed.

  Phair sniffed the air, wishing he were capable of laughter. Any normal human would have run out the front or the back door in an attempt to get to safety. But not Barton. The arrogant idiot had made for his office.

  Phair charged down the hall and around the corner towards his destination. When he slammed his weight into the door, the entire thing—frame, hinges, all of it—went crashing inwards, taking half the wall with it. The Béorn pushed his way in through the gaping chasm.

  Barton and Ivan stood against the opposite wall, an open safe on the wall beyond the desk. Inside its hollow interior, Phair could see papers, money, and a steel box of some sort. In Barton’s hand was a white envelope.

  The shifter stepped forward slowly, lowering his head. After a few feet he stopped to unleash a deafening roar that made both men clamp their forearms over their ears and squat down in pain.

  Barton dropped what he was holding, and the Béorn looked down to see that the envelope had fallen open on the floor, its contents spread around his feet.

  Photos, mostly, of young women.

  His human victims. In their back gardens, with their families. Happy smiles on their faces as they stood next to loved ones.

  Barton had stolen each and every one of those women away from those happy lives. He’d stolen everything from them.

  Rage was no longer an adequate word for what Phair was feeling. He wanted to tear the bastard into shreds, to take his life here and now.

  No one who’d been responsible for ruining so many lives deserved to live.

  He edged forward, preparing himself for the onslaught. It would be the first time he’d killed a human. The fi
rst time he’d unleashed the full power of his déor. But there was no question in his mind that Barton’s death would constitute justifiable homicide.

  “Phair! Don’t!”

  The familiar voice called out from somewhere behind him.

  Cad.

  “Roth is here,” the other shifter said, “and Laird, and the others. They’ll take him in. We have to do this the right way. We can’t kill another human, or we’ll only prolong the war.”

  Phair turned to look at his friend, who was walking a little oddly, but seemed, at least, to have his wits about him. “I know,” Cad said, “I still look drunk. They gave me a bloody elephant tranquilizer, mate.”

  Phair’s déor let out a quiet grunt.

  “I know that you’re hulking out. You want to kill these wankers. I get it,” said Cad. “I want to kill them, too. I want to let my Wolf out and do what I do best. But there’s something I want even more.”

  He turned back towards the destroyed doorway, where Mir was standing now, staring at both her mates.

  “He’s right. I hate Barton as much as anyone does,” she said, “and God knows I hate this place. But I don’t want to start my life with you behind bars.”

  Life with you, thought Phair, his pulse calming.

  It was a choice he had to make, right here, right now.

  Revenge or love.

  He’d been reborn a month ago, but he’d never truly lived. Not until Mir and Cad had come into his life. For the first time in all his years, he felt whole. He felt alive.

  He turned to face Barton once more. He and Ivan were still crouched on the floor, cowards that they were. One measly roar from a Béorn and they’d lost their sodding minds.

  Phair shifted and moved towards them, lording his massive size over the two terrified men.

  “Get up, you two,” he said. “We’re about to show you how real men treat their captives.”

  “What are you going to do?” asked Barton, who looked as though he was on the verge of sobbing.

  “My mates and I are going to hand you to one of the best men we know for safe-keeping, that’s what we’re going to do.”

  By the time Phair and Cad had dragged the men outside, Roth and Laird were waiting for them. A few other shifters were there as well, interrogating both the club’s patrons and its victims. It looked as though they’d managed to round up Barton’s female captives, and were giving them blankets, taking down their names and reassuring them that their families were safe.

  Phair and Cad handed Barton and Ivan over to Laird, who grabbed them and shoved them into the back of a van.

  “There’s another one downstairs in the pantry,” said Mir.

  “Wait—what’s that now?” asked Cad, chuckling, a look of unabashed pride in his eyes.

  “I worked on a little side project before I found you,” she replied, smiling. “He deserved no less.”

  “We’ll take the lot of them to Lumen,” Roth said. “We’ll decide together what’s the best course of action going forward.”

  “Good. Listen, I hope you’re going to offer these women shelter for the night,” Phair said as Mir stepped up next to him.

  “We’re on it, yeah,” replied Roth, his eyes settling on Mir. “Miss Williams, I presume. Your family is safe, including your sister. She called a few minutes ago to say she was okay.”

  “Oh, thank God,” Mir said, her hands reaching to her two mates for support.

  “Listen,” said the Alpha. “I…I just want to say that I know I’ve been hard on these two—on the men who are now your mates.” He looked first at Cad, then at Phair. “Yes, of course I know I’ve been an arse,” he told them. “The thing is, I failed to protect my mate once, and I suppose I was afraid that I would fail to protect shifter-kind, too. Perhaps it’s made me a little overzealous. It would seem that I forgot for a little that humans could be victims, too. I was just so sodding angry—so bent on getting back at Barton for what he’d done. Anyhow, this is my roundabout way of saying that I’m sorry. I should have trusted the two of you more.”

  “All is forgiven,” said Cad, squeezing Mir close. “At least, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Me too,” Phair said. “Hell, if you hadn’t been such a shite to us, we might never have found each other.”

  “Well, if my mates can forgive you, I know I can,” Mir added. “Ironically, Roth, I think you pushed us all closer together when you pushed them away. So…thanks for that.”

  “Well, if I did, I’m glad,” Roth replied. He reached out and offered her his hand, which she took. “I’ve arranged for you all to spend a night at a nice suite downtown tonight. A couple of Dragon shifters are picking Bryanne up and she’ll meet you there. That is, if that’s okay with you.”

  “That’s more than okay,” said Mir, her voice threatening to catch in her throat. She turned around to face her mates. “I never thought I’d leave this place for good,” she said, looking one last time at the club. “I never thought Bry would, either. I can’t tell you how happy I am.”

  “We’re happy, too,” said Cad. “We know this will be hard, for you and her both. But we’ll be with you every step of the way.”

  “What he said,” Phair added. “We’re here for both of you.”

  “I know,” said Mir, throwing her arms around them and hugging them tight. “I know.”

  Epilogue

  One month later

  April 20th, 8 a.m.

  For a few seconds, Mir forgot where she was. Only the Nirvana poster hanging on the yellow wall beside the tiny single bed reminded her that she’d somehow found her way into her childhood bedroom in Nottingham.

  A room she’d once thought she’d never see again.

  She stretched her arms over her head, relaxing for a moment before she dragged herself out of bed.

  Today is the day, she thought as she pulled her robe on over her cotton pajamas. Today’s the day when I tell them everything.

  Bry would be on her way up from London by now. Cad and Phair had promised to bring her a day late, to give Mir time to talk to their parents. But somehow there hadn’t been an opportune time last night to explain what she and her sister had been through. It had been more like a torrent of her mother’s gossip and her father’s tales of his achievements in home repair.

  Of course, her parents had also told her about the curious incident involving shifters and magic:

  These men—Dragon shifters, they were—came and told us we had to leave until they could secure the place. It was the strangest thing. They only told us we were in danger, but not why, or from whom. Your mother rode a Dragon! Well, it was all very exciting, though we’re not quite sure why any of it actually occurred.

  She’d only gotten about five words in before her parents had announced that they were going to bed.

  Which meant that she had no choice but to tell them this morning. They needed to know. She needed to find the courage, difficult though it would be, to explain that her life had altered forever, and so had Bry’s.

  She slipped down to the kitchen, a feeling of dread growing in her stomach. What could she possibly say that would explain everything? How could she hide the shame of what had happened, without horrifying her parents into heart attacks or even worse, endless despair?

  As the smell of coffee met her nose, a fresh dose of renewed strength hit her. Suddenly she remembered the feeling of Cad’s and Phair’s arms around her. Of their voices in her mind.

  We’re with you, every step of the way.

  She stepped into the kitchen, where her mother—a rosy-cheeked woman of sixty—and her father—a short man with a grey Santa beard—were sitting, enjoying the day’s newspaper together.

  “How did you sleep, love?” asked her mother, her voice heartbreakingly chipper.

  “Very well, thanks,” said Mir. “Too well, I think. I’d almost forgotten…”

  “Forgotten what?”

  “Forgotten that there’s something I should tell you both. It’s about…it�
��s about the shifters. It’s about where Bry and I have been all these months.”

  She plonked herself down on a chair and looked first at her mother, then her father. “The shifters are the reason I’m home,” she said. “If it weren’t for them, I may never have seen you two again.”

  “Well, that sounds very ominous, dear,” said her mother.

  “It is. I…” She wanted so badly to finish, to sum it all up in one tidy sentence, but already her voice was failing her. “I…it’s just that…”

  A flood of memories came to her then, of being shoved into a white van, of being taken into locked rooms in the club. Of Barton’s cruelty, Bry’s servitude.

  Of being trapped with no escape, and of the men who had walked into her life and pulled her and Bry free.

  She stared at her parents for a moment until a strange look came across each of their faces. Mir couldn’t quite decipher it, couldn’t figure out what it all meant. All she knew was that they seemed to understand, for some reason.

  Without a word of explanation, they seemed to know everything.

  Just then, the doorbell rang.

  “I need to get that,” her mother said, rushing towards the front door.

  Seconds later, Mir heard deep voices coming from the foyer. Her heart leapt. Oh, God. They were early. Her mother would see Bry’s face before she’d properly explained what had happened.

  She rose to her feet silently and walked towards the front of the house. Her mother’s arms were already wrapped around her sister, and both of them were sobbing.

  Her mates, standing protectively behind the two women, were staring at her with so much love in their eyes that Mir thought her heart would explode.

  Her father wandered into the room, his eyes locking on her mother and sister.

  “I’m so sorry,” Mir said, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Mum, Dad…I’m so sorry for everything.”

  Her father was beside her now, and she turned to look at him. But his eyes were still fixed on her sister. She knew that he could see her scars, her burns.