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

by Michele Bardsley

  I need to get up. I need to get back to Nolan. Fear’s cold creeping tendrils wrapped around her body and immobilized her. She was tired. Really fucking tired. She’d run away from Garrett. She’d sought safety. And with Nolan, she’d found comfort. She’d found the beginning of real love.

  She’d began to finally believe she could be free of the Garrett’s terror.

  She laughed—a strangled sound of defeat.

  The realist in her knew she was probably going to die. Nolan would never know that she’d fallen in love with him. That she trusted him. That he had, in fact, saved her. Or that when he’d made love to her, when she’d finally submitted completely to him—she’d never experienced such total and complete happiness.

  The idealist in her wanted to punch the realist in the face.

  She put her head on her knees and cried. In her grief, she let go of the two-by-four, and the board clattered to the concrete floor.

  “Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.”

  Stephanie raised her head, blinded by the glare of high-powered flashlight.

  “What do you want?” she asked, sick of his games.

  “You.” He laughed. “I’ve decided we should make up, sweetheart.”

  Her pulse stepped up a notch as a renewed sense of fear pushed her self-pity away. “Screw you.”

  The laugh, the cold laugh she remembered so well, echoed throughout the basement. “Hmmm. I think I’ll take you up on that invitation.”

  A cold sweat broke over her skin. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Oh, I’m going to do more than that.”

  The flashlight seemed to double in two as she became light-headed and dizzy. Nausea roiled violently in her stomach. She leaned over and emptied its contents. The putrid smell of vomit mixed with the musty smell of the basement. She spit the residue out of her mouth and wiped her lips with a trembling hand.

  “There now. Feel better?”

  She cursed being human once more. How did she stand a fighting chance against such a monster, especially with a concussion? “Just kill me now, you bastard. I’d rather die than have your filthy claws touch me.”

  “That’s what you think.”

  The light disappeared then she felt his hands on her shoulders. She screamed with fury, and struggled against his grip, but he turned her around and held her across the neck with one strong arm. A cloth covered her nose and mouth, a sickly-sweet smell gagged her...then she felt nothing.

  STEPHANIE STRUGGLED AGAINST the ropes binding her wrists and feet. She’d awakened to find Garrett cutting off her clothes with a huge, jagged knife. A Wendigo’s knife. The knife that she knew her ex would use to humiliate and torture her.

  He’d taken her to one of the bedrooms of the abandoned house. The old bed had been covered by a black tarp, but though it covered the ratty mattress, it provided no comfort against the rusted springs poking into her back. He’d already taped her mouth. It took little effort for him to tie her up. She was spread-eagled. The ropes attached to the metal posts gave her enough leeway to move. Just enough, she thought bitterly, to give her the false hope she might get free.

  Tears scorched her cheeks. The knowledge that she was going to suffer horribly overwhelmed her. Even if she survived the pain and the rape she was certain would come, how could she live after? And Nolan... Oh God

  Tear streamed down the sides of her face, clouding already blurry vision. She could barely breathe as she sobbed, helpless, behind the duct tape concealing her mouth.

  Garrett sat at the end of the bed and smiled at her. He would be patient. She didn’t know what was worse—when he was angry and violent or when he was calm and violent.

  He got up and rounded the bed, leaning over to look into her eyes. “Terrified, aren’t you, my love?” He stroked her breast with his hand, and then leaned down and suckled her nipple, biting it hard enough to break the skin as she screamed against the tape. She felt sick and violated. She knew which was worse now. Calm and violent. So much worse.

  Garrett slid on top of her, still clothed in jeans and a Polo shirt. She twisted her hips, trying to fight him, but the bindings made it impossible, and the extra movement seemed to excite him.

  Oh God, she thought, is this really happening? This can’t be happening.

  His sneakers banged her shins as he slithered over her—his hands and mouth took terrible liberties. She thought she might choke on her own vomit. She tried to buck him off her body. She owed it to Nolan to fight back. She owed it to herself not to give up.

  Nolan, Stephanie called out with her thoughts, Where are you? If he was alive, wouldn’t he have found her already? She believed he would move heaven and earth to be at her side. She believed in him.

  Garrett began to unbutton his jeans. She tried to scream, but it came out as a high-pitched strangled noise.

  He ripped off the duct tape. She cried out from stinging pain. “Keep doing that, sweetie. Turns me on. Not that I ever have a problem getting hard for you.” He winked at her. “Let’s make a baby.”

  “No!” She turned her face away when he tried too kiss her. “Stop. Don’t do this, Garrett. Don’t.” Her pleas fell on deaf ears.

  He stroked her thigh. She yanked her leg, but the gesture excited him even more. He took perverted pleasure in grabbing her knee and holding it in place as his other hand crept toward her womanhood.

  Horror squeezed her insides so tightly that she didn’t think she’d ever breathe normally again. She felt tendrils of anger curl through her. Not enough to overwhelm her terror, but enough to know she wouldn’t give him any of the satisfaction he craved. If given the chance, she would take her own life first.

  She jerked her chin out of his hand and bit the side of his palm until she tasted his foul blood.

  “Bitch!” He slapped her so hard her ears rang and her vision blurred. Fresh nausea hit her as he aggravated her concussion. An ache crept across her face. But her anger strengthened her resolve, and the fury made the shaking in her limbs recede a little. Garrett leapt off the bed and started pacing. “You’ve always been ungrateful. I’m sharing the greatest opportunity any human female’s ever had. Ever.” He smacked his fist into his freshly blooded palm.

  “I don’t want your child,” she spat. “You’re a monster. A soulless, horrible bastard.” His face reddened at her accusations, and she instantly formed a plan. Maybe she could piss him off enough that he’d kill her before doing worse. “The idea that I ever loved you, that I ever could, makes me sick. You and your kind are a mistake of nature. You’re not a superior species,” she spat. “You’re inferior!”

  He shoved his hands through his hair and held his head, muttering under his breath. He turned, and Stephanie saw the gleam of hatred in his eye. “I will show you just what a monster I am.” Then his skin split open, revealing a bumpy skull, a veiny throb of thin, gray skin. His menacing voice slid over her like cold slime.

  Stephanie struggled against the ropes, screaming.

  But she couldn’t escape the massive beast coming for her.

  12

  DREAD LODGED IN Nolan’s gut and grew heavier as time passed. The dragon’s tactics had worked like magic against Garrett’s brother. A few pokes with the unicorn blade had him spilling all of the Wendigo’s plans. Nolan shuddered at Lester’s vivid descriptions, but fear for Stephanie kept him laser focused.

  Lester’s directions had gotten them as far a gutted dirt road winding through an Oklahoma field with waist-high weeds. Beyond it was a thick, gnarly forest—and supposedly beyond those was the old farmhouse where the Wendigo brothers had holed up. And where Garrett planned to make Stephanie pay the price for leaving him.

  Nolan sat shotgun with Cave at the wheel. Ahead of them was the alpha, the Irish dragon and his handy ancient weaponry, and an entire backseat of werewolves. Nolan’s own werewolf instincts were yelling to hurry, hurry, fucking hurry.

  His heart clenched as he thought about what Stephanie might be suffering at the hands of her insane ex-husband.

 
“Stephanie,” he murmured as he checked his loaded gun for the eighteenth time. “Hang on, sweetheart. We’re on the way.”

  Were they too late? He couldn’t let himself think that way. He had to believe she was still alive. His brave girl.

  After they cleared the trees, the road sloped upward. On top of a small hill sat a decrepit farmhouse. It was dark, with only half a moon glowing in the night sky, but with his superior wolf vision it was easy to see the caved-in roof, the broken windows, and the warped porch.

  Entry would be easy.

  Surprising the Wendigos … not so much.

  The alpha and dragon exited the car, as did the enforcers. Nolan and Cave followed suit. Lester’s information was proving completely accurate, but he’d been convincingly forthcoming, especially after Aiden Kearney had removed one of his arms. Apparently, Wendigos could grow any of their limbs back—even their own heads, unless they were removed with Kearney’s ancient weapon.

  Nolan was impressed by the dragon’s knowledge and skill, and was glad the creature had a pact with the Moon Pack werewolves.

  Since they’d discussed the plan before leaving his home, Nolan followed the shifted wolves toward the farmhouse.

  He couldn’t imagine the Wendigos weren’t preparing a counterattack.

  However, the entire downstairs was empty. The eerie silence of the house was broken by the slight scuffles of wolves and men as they stole through the lower rooms.

  Nothing.

  Had Lester given them bad information?

  Nolan’s heart thundered in his chest. He couldn’t lose Stephanie. In a very short amount of time, he’d connected with her on a soul-deep level. He wanted her for his wife.

  For his mate.

  As Nolan started up the creaky narrow staircase, he prayed Stephanie was alive.

  A woman’s terrified scream stopped him cold. Stephanie. He bolted up the stairs. He was followed by the alpha, dragon, and enforces. When he reached the top, another scream sent him into action. Nolan zigzagged across the hall, sniffing at the air, trying to figure out which room she was in.

  He took a deep breath, scenting his own sweat and fear before he edged along the wall.

  Cave was next to him, his face tipped into the air. He was an excellent tracker. “Last door,” he whispered. “On the left.”

  Nolan sped to the door, raising his gun as he stumbling into a nightmare in progress.

  Stephanie was naked and bloody, tied spread-eagled on the bed, though one of her hands had come loose from the ropes. Thank God! She was alive. Gray duct tape covered her mouth in a haphazard fashion, as if hastily applied. She was frantically trying to rip off the tape. Her eyes were wide with fear and warning. Nolan knew, too late, he’d made a fatal error.

  Thick, strong hands grabbed his shoulders and flung him forward. The gun flew from his grasp as he hit the floor. The air was knocked out of him, and Nolan struggled for breath as he was flipped onto his back.

  The big asshole who’d nailed him laughed and used his monstrous foot with its curved claws to crush Nolan’s chest. Garrett was half-Wendigo, half-human, and all-asshole. The human half of his face sported a vicious scratch. Nolan took some satisfaction in the bloodied cheek, though he wanted to put a bullet in the guy’s forehead.

  Cave had come into the room, his gun raised.

  “Mine!” yelled Nolan. “He’s attacked my mate.”

  Nolan’s declaration made Garrett’s horrific face twist in rage. “Your mate? She’s mine. She’s always been mine.”

  Fuck that.

  Nolan grabbed the man’s ankle and twisted. The creature flailed off balance and crashed to the floor. They both rolled to crouching positions. The wicked edges of the Wendigo’s claws were stained with Stephanie’s blood.

  White-hot fury flowed through Nolan.

  Garrett lurched forward, wielding his claws with expert precision. He went for Nolan’s ribs. Nolan felt the stinging nicks of the sharp nails slice him as he tried to move out of range. He pressed a hand against the wound and prepared for the next attack.

  He didn’t have to wait long. Garrett lunged forward. Nolan twirled away, and as gravity made the Wendigo stumble, he brought his foot down hard onto the creature’s malformed, scaly back.

  “Nolan!” The dragon stood in the doorway, the unicorn weapon held loosely in his hand. He tossed it to Nolan. He grabbed it mid-air and began to swing it in a tight, well-aimed arc toward Garrett’s neck until—

  “No!” Stephanie screamed, scrambling from the bed. She’d managed to get her other hand and feet unbound. Her tangled hair, the blood, and the wounds made her look as fierce as any warrior.

  Nolan pushed his foot down harder into the Wendigo’s back, intuitively knowing what Stephanie wanted. What she needed. He handed her the heavy blade, worried for only a heart beat that she wouldn’t be able to manage.

  It wasn’t pretty or skillful, but Nolan took intense satisfaction at the strangled look in Garrett’s eyes as Stephanie turned him into the victim he’d once made her and viciously chopped off his head. Only after it separated from his body did she stop hacking away at him. She dropped the ancient sword and fell into Nolan’s arms, exhaustion taking over where rage left off.

  “Is he dead?” she asked, as if unable to believe what she’d just done.

  “Yes,” said Nolan, her voice drawing him back from the dark edges of his own rage.

  “Good.” She sagged against him with relief.

  Nolan leaned sideways, still holding her tightly, and picked up the weapon. He handed it back to Aiden. After, he lifted Stephanie into his arms, huddling her in the warmth of his love as he cradled her against his body.

  He saw the multiple knife wounds, the raw skin around her wrists and ankles, and wished he could let her kill her torturer again. But she was alive, and the son-of-a-bitch was dead. Nothing else mattered.

  She peered up at him, her eyes half-lidded, her expression weary. Mine. He kissed her swollen, battered lips. Mine, he thought again.

  “Is she okay?”

  Nolan looked at the alpha. “She will be.”

  “Yes,” said Stephanie. “I will be.”

  13

  Three months later…

  STEPHANIE PLAYED FRISBEE with Nolan’s niece, laughing when the little whirlwind tackled her instead of the flying disc. The grass tickled her bare arms and legs. The scent of honeysuckle and roses teased her senses. She felt so alive.

  “Not the ribs!” she cried in mock horror. Of course, the toddler enthusiastically went for the ribs, her sweet baby fingers poking her relentlessly.

  She was rescued by Hallie and escaped the tiny arms only to find herself pinned from behind by two strong man-sized arms. Nolan kissed the nape of her neck, and she felt a delicious shiver.

  “Later,” he promised in a husky whisper.

  Stephanie snuggled in his arms and looked at the scenes unfolding the backyard. Her dad, now out of the hospital and fully recovered, played with the dogs, Hallie’s husband grilled hamburgers, the toddler now chased her older brother, and various members of the Moon Pack gathered at tables and in groups.

  Stephanie had never been happier.

  She felt more loved and more secure than she ever had in her life. After she had recovered from her injuries, she agreed to go to a psychologist for therapy. While chopping off Garrett’s head had gone a long way toward healing her battered soul, she was able to finally admit she needed help to overcome her past and move into her future. When she was ready, she planned to help counsel abused women at the same shelter where Hallie worked. Maybe she’d even go back to school and get licensed.

  Nolan had been there every step of the way, loving her, supporting her, and never asking her for anything. She loved him more than her next breath. She turned in his arms and faced him. His gaze, as always, was filled with tenderness and love.

  “Did they find Tommy?”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, babe. He probably scurried away the minute we sho
wed up. Wendigos aren’t much for family loyalty.”

  “They suck,” she agreed. She nibbled her lower lip, her heart pounding.

  “What is it?” Nolan asked. He smiled at her. “When you chew on your lip, it means you’re thinking too hard. Just tell me.”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “What?” He looked stunned. His smile turned into a wide grin. “Holy shit!” He grabbed her and swung her around. “I’m going to be a daddy!” he yelled.

  Everyone broke out into cheers and applause.

  Stephanie lightly punched his shoulder. “You sure know how to make a girl sweat.”

  “You bet I do. Wanna see some other ways later?”

  Anticipation curled inside her. “Oh hell yeah.” She cupped his face and placed a tender kiss on his lips.

  Two Alphas and a Lady

  1

  JACK HARRISON INHALED the salty scent of ocean air as he readjusted his position. His rear end throbbed from sitting too long on the sand. Grit had crept inside his wet swim trunks and abraded his skin.

  Fake.

  The whole damned thing was fake.

  The earliness of the house was too much for most guests staying at the Drift Resort, so the Waves of Love attraction was pretty much deserted.

  It blew his mind that the Drift Resort had gone to so much trouble to recreate a beach, complete with “ocean” AKA “the wave pool” and an artificial sunrise. Actually, the sunrise was pretty good. He watched the light move across the far wall, which had been painted to look like endless ocean waves. The golden shimmer mimicked the sun rising, spreading orange and yellow filaments across the tapestry of topaz water.

  He loved being outdoors just before the day started—ah, the smell of crisp air, freshly turned earth, and dewy grass. The sun rose, and the blue sky kissed the dark earth. Yes. Beauty everywhere, and in that beauty, soul-deep peace. Jack eyed the fakeness around him, and sighed. He supposed this man-made contraption was as close as it got to nature’s beauty in June in Las Vegas. The skin-melting heat made wise people stay inside—tromping from hotel to hotel through connected walkways, zippy trams, and if one wanted to brave the blistering outside, zippier cabs.