Stolen Mate

by Kimber White

  I took an attack stance, dropping low, stretching my paws in front of me with my back arched. Saliva dripped from my fangs. Andre’s wolves closed in behind him, matching my threat. I’d have to go through them to get past Andre. That was fine with me.

  Then, a sharp wail cut through the air, shooting straight through my heart. Andre froze. Another growl and his wolf came back. It was Jarred. God. He was hurt.

  It happened in an instant, but it was enough to draw the attention of all the wolves surrounding me. I took it. Running at full speed past Andre, I broke through the line of wolves. They could have easily caught me. I didn’t care. I heard a yip from Andre as he sent a command through his pack. I’d called his bluff. My brother had told him to slow me down, but he would never give a command to any of the wolves to hurt me. They wouldn’t have honored it anyway.

  My heart exploded behind my lungs. My every nerve ending caught fire with alarm as I began to feel Clint. He was close. So was Peter’s pack. I burst into a clearing, heading down a steep hill. At the bottom, I saw him.

  Clint stood in the center with Peter’s wolves surrounding him. His back leg dragged behind him. Blood flowed down the side of it where one of the wolves had made a savage tear. I froze. Everything in me pulled me to my wounded mate. I knew the instant he sensed me, it could put him in mortal danger. Peter was too close, his murderous intentions clear.

  Clint’s chest heaved with ragged breaths and foam formed at the corners of his mouth. I hid behind the brush, praying none of Peter’s pack would sense me. They were all singularly focused on killing my mate.

  Clint had done some damage too. Roy Matthews lay on his side away from the group. His left flank lay open from a brutal tiger bite. He could have killed him. I realized with renewed horror Clint must have held back. What was he doing? It was kill or be killed. Now wasn’t the time for mercy.

  Leaves crunched beside me. I whirled toward the sound, jaws snapping. Jarred’s gleaming silver eyes locked with mine. Blood poured from a gash in his temple. He put a hand out, just like Andre had done. I took a slow step backward.

  I shifted, rising on two unsteady feet. “What have you done?” I whispered. I lost it. I lunged at my brother with a raised fist. He caught my wrist and held me back. My wolf still simmered.

  “It was Clint’s choice,” he said, his voice so low I knew only I could hear it. “I tried to stop him. He gave me this.” Jarred pointed to his head wound. Sure enough I could see two distinct claw marks. Again, Clint had held back.

  Clint’s roar cut through my soul. I staggered away from my brother. He kept a grip on my arm, and clamped a hand over my mouth. “Easy,” he whispered in my ear. “You draw attention to yourself, Clint’s a dead man.”

  I bit Jarred’s palm. He hissed, but managed not to cry out. He pulled his hand away and turned on me, his eyes flaming with anger.

  “He’s a dead man anyway,” I whispered back. “They’ll tear him apart bit by bit.”

  Stephen and Grady had double-teamed him, swiping their deadly claws across his right shoulder. Peter hung back. His snout curled in a snarl, he seemed content to let his pack bleed for him. It gave me an idea.

  Jarred sensed where my mind went before I even said anything. He was my brother. My twin. Some bonds could never be broken no matter how hard I tried to shut him out.

  “Let. Me. Go.” Grady and Tony lunged for Clint’s throat. They were smart, staying clear of his lethal fangs. Clint made a move toward Peter, but the pack drove him back.

  The pack circled. Grady and Stephen faced in my direction. Cold panic poured through me. “Their eyes,” I whispered. “My God. What the hell’s the matter with their eyes?”

  Jarred froze beside me as he took in the same horror I did. Every member of Peter’s pack had the same eyes, each of them blazing red.

  “Son of a bitch,” Jarred muttered. “He’s gone tyrannous.”

  My heart turned to stone. Tyrannous Alpha. It was the worst thing a wolf could be. It meant he had absolute control over those men. They could no longer think for themselves. And there was only one way to stop them.

  Jarred’s shock gave me my opening. I ripped out of his grip and shifted. He could do nothing, not even shout. I tore through the trees, shifting at a full run. I doubled back past the stream and headed up a hill on the opposite side of the ravine. With any luck, neither Peter nor Clint could see me.

  I would use Peter’s power over his pack to my advantage. I was banking on the fact he had to keep total focus in order to hold them like that. God. One after one, he threw them at Clint, not caring for their safety. He would sacrifice every last one of them to claim his victory. To claim...me.

  “Not bloody likely!” I muttered as I took a position on the northwest side of the ravine. Peter’s back was to me, his tail held high.

  Down in the valley, I saw my brother. He’d stepped out of the trees. He took a ready stance, growling low. My heart split when I realized what he was doing. He would draw their fire. Peter snapped a warning. Jarred stood his ground. Three of Peter’s wolves launched themselves at Clint. They landed hard on his left side, cracking ribs as he went down. But, Clint was too strong for even them. He threw them off and staggered to his feet.

  My mate. He was broken. Bleeding. But still, he fought on.

  I had one chance. One moment. If I missed my mark, not only would I lose my mate, I’d likely lose my brother too. The rest of Jarred’s pack moved in behind him. He issued a sharp command, snapping his jaws. Though I couldn’t hear it in my mind anymore, I knew what he told them. Stand down. Move only on my mark. They didn’t know I was waiting in the woods just behind Peter.

  It was now or never. Stephen, Grady and Tony took another pass at Clint. Kyle’s fangs dug into Clint’s rear as Stephen and Grady drew his attack from the front. Impossibly, Roy got up. His red eyes were glowing. He was like a zombie, controlled completely by his Alpha. Roy charged Clint from the other side.

  I don’t remember my paws leaving the ground. The next thing I knew, my body arched through the air. I felt suspended in flight. In another instant, this would end one way or the other. Fangs out, I landed on Peter’s back, sinking my claws in deep. I bit down hard, going for Peter’s jugular. He yelped then rounded on me, snarling.

  It threw the pack in disarray. Clint threw Roy and Tony. His eyes met mine and terror filled them. I knew what he thought. He couldn’t get to me. There were too many wolves surrounding him. My brother’s high yelp set the McGraw pack in motion.

  Peter threw me off. His eyes gleaming red just like the others, he dropped low and bared his fangs. I met his stare and lunged for him again. He blocked my fangs, but I got my claws into his side, ripping open an ugly gash. We tumbled end over end down the ravine. He landed on top. I didn’t wait. I reached up and bit the underside of his neck as hard as I could, tasting bone. Heat blazed across my side as Peter got in his own swipe.

  My blood stoked Clint. He threw two of Peter’s wolves off him. They arced through the air like ragdolls, landing hard against the trees. I wouldn’t let go. Peter took another swipe, opening a gash on my leg. But, I felt his lifeblood pouring down my cheek. I had him. I would never let go.

  Then, Peter’s hold broke. His pack yelped. Disoriented, their steps faltered and they walked in circles. Clint got up. Blood dripping from his wounds, he charged toward me. Peter was still so strong. I knew the wound I’d made was mortal, but his power hadn’t yet left him. In another second, I might have died along with him.

  But, Clint was there. I saw a flash of orange and black and with one massive paw, he took a swipe at Peter, ripping him from my jaw and sending him tumbling the rest of the way down the hill. I heard bones snap as he landed in a heap, his eyes fixed, and the last of his blood seeped away.

  Heaving, his whiskers coated with blood, Clint came to me. I scrambled to my feet; my head spun. I was so cold, so weak. Clint nudged me with his nose. His warmth poured through me. He stood beside me at the top of the hill and let
out a roar so fierce it shook the ground.

  The McGraw pack closed in. As the red faded from Peter’s pack’s eyes, my brother’s wolves surrounded them. High on the opposite hill, another pair of eyes gleamed. It was Kane, Peter’s small nephew. No bigger than Tucker, he’d witnessed the whole thing. Now, he stood frozen as his uncle and pack Alpha died at his feet.

  Clint roared again. Jarred looked up. He dropped his head in deference. To me. To Clint. To the passing of an Alpha of Wild Lake. Then, my brother raised his own head. As Clint roared once more, Jarred’s howl rose to join him.

  Twenty

  “Baby, my God. Are you all right?” I couldn’t believe Clint was asking me that. He knelt before me, running his hands over my head. Blood matted my hair to my face. Adrenaline still pumped through me, trapping me between wolf and woman. The woman finally won out and I raised my hand to Clint’s face. His ear was torn in half, but the bleeding had stopped. He had claw gashes through his chest, his thigh, and the deepest cutting through his back.

  “I’m okay,” he answered. “As long as I know you are. What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking you needed backup. Which you did. I have half a mind to finish what Peter’s pack started and kill you myself.”

  My words were harsh, but my heart beat true. I cupped Clint’s face in my hands and brought my lips to his. We were both bloody, battered, nearly beaten. But we’d survived. The world spun, then seemed to shrink as if Clint and I were the only two people in it. His lips, his arms around me, the taste of his kisses...they fueled me, nourished me, healed me. As he took my breath away, I came back into myself. Jarred’s splitting howl brought me the rest of the way.

  Clint and I broke apart. The chaos still raged at the bottom of the hill. My brother stood nose to nose with Roy Matthews. As Peter’s cousin and second, he would have been next in line to lead. But I delivered the mortal wound to his Alpha. It was my right to claim Peter’s pack if I wanted it. Some small part of me did, driven by ancient instinct. But, I knew it wasn’t my path. So did Jarred. Under pack law, he was my second and I was his. All those old rules seemed to fall away as my tiger took me by the hand. My heart beat true as I knew where my path lay.

  Kane Matthews moved slowly toward Roy, his last living relative. His own parents had died in the battle leading up to my father’s death. The rest of Peter’s pack stood frozen, snarling as Jarred’s pack formed a wall in front of their Alpha. If any of Peter’s pack made so much as a move toward him, a new battle would form. Something about Kane’s eyes made my blood run cold. He was only three years old, the same as Tucker and Asher. Still a pup, but he had wisdom in his gaze. Wisdom, and fury. He stared hard at Jarred, watching his every move.

  “Lucia!” I hadn’t realized I’d moved away from Clint. A different kind of instinct fueled me. Blood poured from Roy’s wounds. I’ll never know how he managed to stay on his feet. Foam dripped from his mouth and his chest heaved as he stared my brother down.

  I shifted and stood at Jarred’s side. I opened my mind to him. What I had to say wouldn’t get through to him if I used regular words.

  Give Roy the pack.

  Jarred blinked. He’d gone almost completely feral. Old instincts drove him too. And yet, Peter Matthews had been my kill.

  Roy has seen and felt the worst of Peter’s way. He can lead these men with respect. You would have to lead them with force and fear.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off little Kane. Jarred growled beside me, his wolf warring with the man inside. Roy took a faltering step forward. He might not even survive to lead, but it was a chance I hoped Jarred would take. I dipped my head, showing him a brief instant of deference. Roy’s eyes went from me to Jarred. Jarred’s low growl reverberated, but he didn’t move.

  Roy took a chance. He turned his back to Jarred and me and faced what was left of Peter’s pack. His voice ragged, his whole body trembling, he found the strength to move forward. Jarred acted, sending a silent command through the members of the McGraw pack. I wasn’t one of them anymore, but he’d asked them to stand down.

  Charlie and Joe were closest to Roy. They stood aside, letting him limp past. Roy moved to the middle of the pack and raised his head. His wounds grave, his body broken, he stood tall and straight, raising his tail high. Then, he let out a howl that split the air. It stirred Clint’s tiger. He shifted and came to my and Jarred’s side.

  The Matthews pack froze. I could sense their confusion. Some of them were still trying to clear their heads from the total mind control Peter had exerted on them. It had traumatized them, maybe scarred their souls for life. But Roy seemed to understand. He was one of them. He had survived right along with them. As Roy pawed the ground, his cousin’s pack bowed their heads and submitted to him. Roy Matthews rose as their Alpha.

  I watched Kane. He whined and side-stepped, the pull of his new Alpha slamming into him. But, some of the hatred I’d sensed left his eyes as he ran down the hill and joined the adult wolves. Still, there was something about that little boy that sent a chill through me. I hoped Roy could guide him well. Roy gave one last glance back at Jarred and me, then he howled again. His gait was slow, unsteady, but the rest of his pack surrounded him. They ran off into the woods together.

  Jarred’s head dropped. He staggered sideways as the adrenaline running through him began to wane. The pack closed around us, leaving Clint on the outside. I went to join him.

  Are you sure?

  Jarred’s voice slammed into my mind true and strong. For the first time in a long time, I welcomed it. He already knew the answer, but I gave it to him anyway.

  More sure than I’ve ever been about anything. Go home, Jarred. Be with your mate. It’s time for me to stand with mine.

  Clint stood tall and strong at my side, his wounds already starting to heal. Jarred squared off, standing before him. Two Alphas. My brother. My mate. They’d started out as mortal enemies. Now, they were brothers in arms.

  Jarred raised his head and howled. The rest of the pack joined in. Clint bared his teeth, then let out a thunderous roar that echoed all through Wild Lake. All the packs would hear. They would know what happened here today. I let my own howl rise with theirs.

  Heaving with the exertion of the battle and his roar, Clint flicked his tail. Jarred took one last look at me, then turned, leading his pack toward home.

  Twenty-One

  We didn’t need words, Clint and I. These lands were my home, but he knew exactly where to go. I was a wolf of Wild Lake, after all. As the afternoon sun began to fade, we reached the water’s edge. Clint’s paws cut deep footprints in the sand. He climbed to the rocky ledge, his tail high and his back straight. The wounds he’d suffered had nearly healed. A shudder went through me as I realized how close I’d come to losing everything. Never again. I would never allow him to take that kind of risk without me by his side.

  Clint looked back at me, his green tiger eyes sparkling. I swished my tail. He didn’t need my permission; he was part of Wild Lake now too...or he would be very soon. He gave me a chuff and curled his lips back, exposing his gleaming white fangs. Lethal. Deadly. Beautiful. His deafening roar filled me. Then, he took flight, arcing high into the air. I knew I would never get used to the power of his jump. He went at least twenty feet high before slicing through the water with balletic grace.

  I stepped to the edge of the rock and waited. The water churned beneath me as Clint dove down. A baptism. It was as if Wild Lake itself had healing powers. He took it into him. The water bubbled and Clint sprang up. He’d shifted. The wounds covering him had faded. They would fade even more over time, but he would always bear the scars of what he did today. What he did for me. For us.

  He sliced through the water with the power and agility of an Olympic swimmer. Smiling, he stopped just before the ledge, treading water. Then, he hoisted himself back up on the rock.

  I shifted beside him. I had wounds of my own, but those too had all but healed. I had less flair than Clint did as I dove
into the water and let the lake wash me clean. Clint waited, watching me. I came back up and flicked the hair from my face. Clint held out a hand and pulled me onto the rock beside him.

  We stayed there, just like that, Clint folding me in his arms as we looked out at the water. Just before the sun faded, the shadow of the moon appeared in the pink bands of the horizon. This was our time, I knew. Sun and moon. Day and night. Tiger and wolf.

  Then, my feral urges rose. I turned to him.

  “I love you,” I whispered, touching his face. “I will always love you. I was born for you.”

  He smiled. “I was born for you, my love.”

  “Then it should be here. Now. It’s time.”

  His eyes sparked. “Are you sure? You don’t have any doubts?”

  “None.”

  He kissed my palm. “Some promises, I can’t make you. I’m an Alpha. Not like your brother, but…”

  I quieted him with a kiss. I knew what he meant. Wild Lake may be too small for us. He could never live under pack rule. It turned out, neither could I.

  “Just promise me you’ll love me. We’ll protect each other. Because, I’m an Alpha too.”

  “You’ve always had my heart,” he said. “I think from the moment I was born. I told you before I think it’s what led me here.”

  I kissed him. My naked body pressed against his. Still wet from our swim, the heat between us sizzled. An ancient pull coursed through me. It was stronger than any pack. Clint groaned as he folded me in his arms and pressed me against him.

  “Yes,” he gasped as we came up for air. “I promise. I’ll love you. Protect you.”

  “As equals,” I said. “You can’t shut me out. Not ever again. You need me as much as I need you.”

  His smile melted me. His green eyes glinted. “Never again.”

  Clint stretched out on his back, pulling me along with him. I felt every sinewy inch of him. I kissed my way from his mouth, along the column of his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gasped. I licked a trail over his hard-cut pecs, to his chiseled abs, and further down. My tiger was huge and hard. I took him into my mouth and stroked him. A low purr of pleasure vibrated through him. Clint’s hands were in my hair, driving me deeper.