The Pack Rules Boxed Set: The Complete Series of Wolf, Bear, and Dragon Shifter Romances

by Michele Bardsley

  Nolan cried out, the sound nearly a howl, as he took her deeply, penetrating her to the womb and giving way to his own earth-shattering release.

  Nolan chuffed a final, rough sound and collapsed on top of her. For a moment, Stephanie reveled in being the one who’d given him such bone-melting pleasure. Her own muscles felt as though they’d turned to liquid.

  Then she realized Nolan wasn’t moving.

  He was utterly still, and his full weight bared down on her, pinning her to the floor.

  “Nolan?” Panic rose. Had he had a heart attack or worse? Had sex with her killed him? She wiggled, trying to get out from underneath him. “Oh my God. Nolan!”

  Suddenly, she felt his weight lifted from her, and then she saw as Nolan was tossed next to her unconscious.

  “Whore,” a menacing voice whispered.

  Stephanie rolled onto her back and stared up into the livid, purpled face of her husband. She screamed and tried to scramble away.

  Garrett was too quick. He grabbed her by the hair and waved an ugly black pistol in her face. “He’s lucky I’m out of silver bullets.” He yanked her to her feet. Then he gave Nolan’s ribcage a swift, hard kick.

  “No!” Stephanie shouted as she heard ominous bone-cracking sounds. “Nolan!” She lashed out at Garrett, raking her fingernails across his face, ripping the flesh off his cheek.

  He snarled, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her like a rag doll.

  She screamed again, but even as Garrett unleashed his rage on her, all she could think about was Nolan. She had no doubt her ex had broken some of the werewolf’s ribs—and she knew he’d had to hit Nolan pretty damned hard to knock him out. Werewolves were tough. How had he gotten past the rest of the security? Oh, no. Out of silver bullets. A part of her mourned for the loss of the enforcers, but another part was glad that Nolan wouldn’t be at the end of a kill shot. She needed to keep the Wendigo distracted. Keep him off Nolan as a target.

  “Garrett!” a man yelled.

  Garrett turned, dragging Stephanie into his arms, the gun pressed coldly against her naked belly. “What!”

  Stephanie’s eyes filled with hot tears as her scalp throbbed with pain. She recognized Tommy, Garrett’s youngest brother. He was a vicious prick—and the hatred in his gaze started nausea roiling in her gut. “We gotta go.”

  Garrett growled and stepped toward Nolan. Stephanie jerked in his embrace, trying to shift his focus, but what stopped him was Tommy.

  “C’mon, Garrett!” he said with more persistence. “We have to go now.”

  “What’s the goddamned hurry?”

  “Lester let one of the enforcers escaped,” he admitted through clenched teeth. “We’re gonna be ass-deep in werewolves, including their alpha, if we don’t leave now.”

  Garrett snarled then he dragged Stephanie out of the house.

  A black SUV was parked out front, the engine running. Tommy scurried to the other side and climbed into the front passenger seat. Garrett opened the back door and tossed Stephanie inside. Her head hit the opposite window, and she tumbled into the floorboard.

  Garrett climbed in behind her and pulled her up in the seat. He wrapped steely fingers around her arm. “We’re going home, baby,” he said, offering her a grim smile. “And this time, you will learn your place, and do what you’re fucking told.” He pounded on the driver’s side headset. “Go, Lester.”

  The SUV took off, wheels spinning in the gravel.

  Stephanie jerked her arm out of Garrett’s grasp and collapsed against the far door.

  Surrounded by Garrett and his brothers, she had a singular terrifying realization: No one could save her.

  10

  STEPHANIE LOOKED AT the man—the monster—who’d beaten her lover and then kidnapped her. She was sickened by the vision of Nolan unconscious and alone. At least he’d been alive. Werewolves were a lot stronger than humans. They could withstand a brutal beating. It was the only thought keeping Stephanie sane. She wanted to get away from Garrett and back to Nolan, even it meant risking her life. She thought about opening the door and taking her chances of surviving a fall at fifty-miles-an-hour, but Garrett seemed to sense her desperate thoughts.

  He grabbed her knee and squeezed so hard, she cried out. “You try to leave me again, Stephanie, and I’ll kill your father. Hell, I’ll kill everyone you’ve ever known.” His menacing smile when he spoke his next words sent a shiver to her bones. “I’ll kill your lover.”

  She knew it wasn’t an idle threat. After all, he and his brothers had just murdered several of the toughest werewolves in the pack so they could steal her from the only safety she’d had in years. And they’d done it with practiced ease. Stephanie had a sinking feeling that nothing could stop her ex—nothing short of a miracle. Still, she couldn’t let him see just how scared she was that he’d make good on his threat.

  When she didn’t react, Garrett snarled at her. Without warning, he turned his furious gaze in the direction of his youngest brother.

  “Pull over, Lester,” demanded Garrett.

  Obediently, Lester pulled the SUV to the side of the gravel road. The darkness bled across the trees, giving them a surreally wicked appearance. Stephanie felt her stomach drop to her toes. Everything seemed even more sinister now that Garrett had her trapped. She was living her nightmare. Did she dare curl her fingers around the door handle and jerk it open? Run for her life?

  Could she escape?

  “Lester, go back to the house and kill that werewolf.”

  “No!” Stephanie yelled. She turned to Garrett and grabbed his arm. “You can’t!”

  Garrett backhanded her. Pain jagged through her jaw, and she felt blood fill her mouth. Damn it. She’d bitten the side of her cheek. She pressed a hand against her aching face and scooted as far away from Garrett as she could.

  He grinned at her, obviously pleased that he’d hurt her. She knew from past experience that he fed off her terror and pain. It was nectar for him. For his kind. But though she knew what awful acts were in store for her—her thoughts were for Nolan.

  Please let Nolan wake up. Please let him be okay. Stephanie wasn’t a believer, but she prayed anyway to any deity who might listen and offer Nolan protection.

  “Lester! I gave you an order!”

  Lester turned around so he could see them in the backseat. “Why should I?”

  If Stephanie didn’t know Lester, she’d probably empathize with his look of dread. But Lester was just as mean as his brothers, even if he if had the brain capacity of a hamster.

  “Because you owe me a werewolf, you dumb son-of-a-bitch.”

  “What about the alpha?” asked Tommy.

  “Yeah, Garrett. What about the alpha?” echoed Lester.

  “Not my problem. You kill Nolan Wright and get your ass back to our hidey hole.”

  “You’re not gonna wait for me?” he whined.

  “No.” Garrett nodded at Tommy. “You drive.” His gaze riveted to his youngest sibling. “Get the fuck out. And don’t come back unless you’ve got proof that you sliced off that mutt’s head.”

  Lester punched the steering wheel. Cursing under his breath, he opened the door with enough force to make it squeal in protest.

  Tommy laughed as he exited the car, rounded the hood, and gave his little bro a smack on the back of his head. “Stupid fucker.”

  “Shut up.”

  Garrett rolled down his window. “You’re wasting time.”

  “I don’t got no bullets,” said Lester.

  “You don’t got no gun, neither,” mimicked Tommy. He slid into the driver’s side seat and opened the center console. He pulled out a .38 revolver and opened the chamber. “Two left. That’s it. And we can’t just buy more silver bullets at the local store.” He handed Lester the gun. “Make ‘em count.”

  Lester took the gun, tossed Tommy one last “fuck you” look, and started running toward Nolan’s house.

  Stephanie cradled her cheek, keeping her back to Garrett.

&
nbsp; Please, she prayed, wake up, Nolan. Please be all right. Please kill that son-of-a-bitch before he kills you.

  Then she grabbed the door handle, her heart jumping into her throat, and yanked up as hard as she could.

  Nothing happened.

  Shocked, Stephanie pulled on the handle again and again, but the door didn’t budge.

  Garrett’s laugh was ugly. “Child’s lock,” he said. “You’re not getting out, babe.” He reached over and stroked his fingers through her hair. “You’re not getting away ever again.”

  NOLAN STRUGGLED TO his feet, his ribs throbbing in a staccato rhythm of pain. He could feel the bones knit together as his werewolf genetics took over the healing process. But no amount of superior genes could stop the ringing in his ears and the feeling that his brain had been good and rattled.

  Stephanie.

  He ran into his bedroom, scooped the cell phone off his nightstand, and speed dialed the alpha. “Kade! We’ve got trouble.” He succinctly explained what happened while he pulled on sweats and a pair of running shoes. “I’m going to check on the enforcers now, but he had silver bullets. And he had help.”

  “We’re on the way. We’re getting these bastards tonight,” promised Kade before he ended the call.

  Nolan tossed his cell onto the bed and headed out of the bedroom. He needed to focus, to keep his worry for Stephanie from clouding his judgment. Yet his rage threatened to obliterate any logic.

  He was going to annihilate Garrett the Wendigo, and his fucking brothers too. He wouldn’t stop until he’d nullified them as threats to Stephanie. He wouldn’t tracking them until she was back in his arms.

  Nolan heard the creak of the floorboards seconds before he heard a popping sound. The doorjamb next to him exploded. He dropped into a crouching position and scuttled backward. The scent of gun powder and silver hung acrid in the air.

  Fuck!

  He had seconds to decide if he should get his gun, or if he should shift. He knew regular bullets wouldn’t do enough damage to Wendigo. But it was possible his wolf wouldn’t have a chance, either. He’d never fought a Wendigo—to his knowledge, no shifter had. At least none that lived to tell about it.

  He grabbed the .9mm from his nightstand drawer, took off the safety, and loaded one in the chamber. He knew if he could hear the bad guy then the bad guy could hear him. On cue, the bastard appeared in the doorway. He was tall and broad with a flat face and dead eyes.

  Nolan wasted no time emptying the clip into the Wendigo’s chest and stomach. The creature staggered backward, screaming. A small lift of triumph shot through Nolan when the beast dropped his .38.

  He grabbed the extra clip from the nightstand drawer, released the empty mag, and reloaded. He ran to the wounded shifter, the man on his knees, thick black blood oozing from his wounds. It smelled like death, but the dude wasn’t close to dead.

  Christ. Even a werewolf would succumb that much damage.

  Nolan raised the pistol and shot the Wendigo in the head twice. He slumped to the floor, his black eyes wide open.

  No way it’s that easy.

  It wasn’t.

  The man stirred, blinking, and snarled up at Nolan.

  Nolan once again emptied the clip—in the Wendigo’s head and chest. Now, the creature choked up viscous, stinky blood. But even as Nolan watched the bullets began to expel from the wounds, and the holes in his flesh began to mend.

  Fuck.

  He went into the kitchen and grabbed the biggest knife from the block. He’d saw off the fucker’s head. See if you can survive that. Nolan readied himself for physical battle. Sweat rolled down his face and neck, his heart pounded, adrenaline rushed through him.

  He turned and saw the bloodied man aim the .38 at him. He took a run at the Wendigo, but even with werewolf speed, he couldn’t get to the gun fast enough.

  It went off.

  The bullet seared into him.

  The pain ricocheted—as hot and fast as lightning. Still, he managed to wrap his arms around the Wendigo and bring him down hard.

  “Nolan!”

  The alpha’s voice barely penetrated the haze of agony and rage compelling Nolan to keep pummeling the bastard beneath him. The next thing he knew, he was being pulled off and held back by two enforcers.

  Kade stepped into the kitchen and put his foot on the Wendigo’s throat while three other enforcers knelt down to hold the growling, writhing creature.

  “You’ve been shot,” said Kade. “You need to calm down and get your wound treated.”

  Nolan responded to the command in his alpha’s voice. He stopped struggling and shook off the two men holding onto him. He leaned against the counter, his gaze narrowed on the Wendigo pinned to the floor by four werewolves. He stopped trying to free himself, and instead turned his dark gaze on the alpha. “You’re gonna die.” Bloody spittle ejected from his mouth.

  “You first.” Kade pressed down on the Wendigo’s throat, causing him to gasp for air.

  Cave ambled into the kitchen with the werewolf version of a First Aid kit. He opened it and pulled out items. Cave poured cleanser into Nolan’s wound. It felt like acid. “Fuck!” he yelled.

  “Don’t be a bitch,” muttered Cave. “Through and through in your shoulder. It’ll take a while longer to heal because of the silver.”

  The enforcer began to bandage Nolan’s wound, which he covered with enough gauze to mummify his left side.

  Rage and anxiety sat heavy in Nolan’s gut. What they hell were they doing sitting around playing doctor for? He didn’t give a crap about his wound. It would eventually heal, but Stephanie, she was human. Whatever Garrett did to her would be permanent. Every cell in his body strained to take action—anything that put him on the path toward Stephanie. He would save her or die trying.

  “The other enforcers?” he asked Kade. A muscle ticked in the alpha’s jaw. “Three dead. Two critical. The sixth got away. Contacted us right after you did.”

  “Shit.” Nolan stared down at the Wendigo. “I know you’re not Garrett. Who the hell are you? One of his asshole brothers?”

  All he got for an answer was a red, toothy smile. The double rows of needle-sharp teeth were meant to terrorize.

  But Nolan wasn’t scared.

  He was pissed off.

  “Perhaps I can be more persuasive.” The deep voice was pure Irish, and so was the large, dark-haired stranger the voice belonged to. The man maneuvered past the werewolves and their prisoner. He was tall and broad, both bigger and taller than the largest werewolf in the Moon Pack. He dressed well—from the designer long-sleeved shirt and belted pants to the Italian leather loafers. He could’ve walked out of a fashion magazine were in not for the strange-looking double-axe clasped in his left hand. The blade wasn’t made of metal, but bone. And it looked very, very sharp.

  Nolan flared his nostrils taking in the faint scent of char and ash, and couldn’t believe his nose. “Dragon?”

  “Aiden Kearney,” the man said, holding out his right hand. Nolan shook it. “I’ve known Kade’s family for a while.” He smiled grimly down at the Wendigo. “Bet you haven’t seen one of these in a while, boyo.” He placed the blade against the Wendigo’s knee.

  Nolan noted the instant change of demeanor in the beast. His eyes widened and he grew deathly still. Well, well, well. It seemed something existed that Wendigos feared.

  “You know what’s more rare than a Wendigo?” asked Aiden conversationally. “Unicorns. In fact, they don’t exist anymore. The Wendigos wiped them out.” Aiden glanced at Nolan. “This particular weapon has been in my family for generations. Wendigos don’t exist in Ireland—thanks to this beauty. The horn of a unicorn tempered in pure silver along with the blood of a virgin creates the only weapon known to kill Wendigos.

  Nolan raised a brow at the swarthy dragon. “The blood of a virgin?”

  “A willing sacrifice, I assure you. I’d explain the weapon’s potency in more details, but I’d rather make this manky bastard talk.” Aiden crouche
d down and put the blade against the Wendigo’s stomach. “Now, you’re going to tell us where the girl is,” he said in a low voice, “and don’t take the piss on me, or I’ll be cuttin’ off your limbs one at a time until you tell the truth.” He stood up, raised the blade above the Wendigo’s thigh. “What’s it going to be, boyo?”

  11

  STEPHANIE CROUCHED IN the dark room, the back of her head throbbing. She swallowed the nausea crowding her throat and tried to center herself. She felt so dizzy, so weak. She’d awakened once—long enough to remember Garrett had dragged her into the basement of the dilapidated house—then he’d hit her hard with the butt of his gun. She didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious.

  She couldn’t see in the darkness, but she’d managed to find a loose rotted two-by-four on the ground near her. Her fingers cramped from holding it so tightly, but she wasn’t about to let go of the only weapon she had at her disposal.

  Her skull felt like it had exploded. But that was nothing to the pain of her heart. What had happened to Nolan? She had to believe he was okay. She had to believe that Lester hadn’t caught him unawares. In the past with Garrett, survival had been a motivating factor. It had been what gave her the courage to try time and time again to escape, but if he’d managed to kill Nolan... The thought was too awful to even consider.

  She had to believe that Nolan would live.

  Her own life? What she knew for sure was that she would not be a brooding mare for the Wendigos.

  The basement was huge and darker than a tomb. She shivered at thought that it might be her tomb. It smelled like mold and dust. Her vision adjusted somewhat. She saw shapes of various sizes, but she had no idea what objects were stored down here. She didn’t know where the door was located and cursed her human weakness. If she’d been a werewolf like her father, like Nolan, she’d be able to see in the dark. She might even be strong enough to withstand Garrett. She’d definitely be strong enough to figure out an escape plan.