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

by Michele Bardsley

  “I don’t want to kill him,” said Roxie, finally answering Gabe’s question.

  Gabe lifted a single brow. “But…”

  “But I have to.” Roxie swallowed. Hard. “He won’t give up being alpha. And he will never leave me alone.”

  “You want to be the alpha?’ asked Mike.

  “Hell, no,” said Roxie. She couldn’t stop herself from trembling. Grant and Jack each put an arm around her shoulders. Their strength transmitted to her, and she felt less shaky. Determination filled her. She wasn’t alone anymore. And she trusted her mates.

  “She’s already an alpha of the Earth Pack,” said Grant. “I don’t care what it takes to protect our mate, even if it means eliminating Crawl once and for all.”

  “We’ll get you close enough to take care of business,” said Gabe. “You meet with the goons, Roxie. We’ll follow you to the location and rescue your friend. Your mates will be there to help you deal with your brother.”

  “Okay.” Roxie inhaled a deep breath. Fear fluttered in her belly with wings of ice—sending chills straight through her. She had to do this—Crawl was forcing her hand. He was a relentless psychopath. She didn’t want to be responsible for his death, but the truth was, she’d save a lot of lives when she took him out.

  Foreboding lodged in her lungs, stalling her breath. The next few hours wouldn’t be easy, but she’d get through them.

  And then she’d finally, finally be free.

  ROXIE WAITED FOR her brother’s minions on the street corner, less than a block away from the boutique hotel. Her husbands and the bear shifters were in a running vehicle waiting in the alley to her right, ready to follow. She didn’t think Crawl was stupid enough to take her to the Blood Pack compound, but she didn’t have a clue where he might hole up—thus the need for covert actions. One of those actions was embedding a tracking device into the base of her neck. That extra step guaranteed that no matter where Crawl took her—her mates wouldn’t be far behind.

  A black SUV smoothly stopped at the curb in front of her. The back passenger door opened. Roxie took a deep breath and slipped inside the dark confines.

  Two men she didn’t know occupied the front seats. Unfortunately, she knew all too well the female sitting next to her. Her brother’s crazy lover.

  “Hello, Sara.”

  “Hi, you treacherous bitch.” The woman looked like a refuge from an apocalyptic movie—torn clothing, pierced face, stupid haircut. A smirk creased her ugly expression as she jabbed something hard against Roxie’s side. Heat exploded in her rib cage, and then it felt like she was being burned from the inside out. Her entire body seized—and then the world went dark.

  “ROXIE? ROX! HONEY, wake up.”

  Roxie’s eyes fluttered open. Pain pulsed in her ribs. “Ouch,” she said. She shifted, and the slight movement sent spiky waves of agony rolling through her. That’s when she noticed her wrists and ankles were tightly bound with ropes. She grimaced. “God, even my teeth hurt.”

  “Sara loves her toys.”

  Roxie followed the voice to the battered face of her friend, Lara. She sat on the opposite of the small room, her hands and feet bound, too. Fresh bruises bloomed around her cheeks and mouth, and her neck was red and raw. The room smelled musty, disused. The only scent Roxie caught was the metallic scent of the blood seeping from her friend’s wounds. She’d been through the ringer.

  Anger surged. “Did Crawl do that to you?”

  “Believe it or not, I still freak him out. This is the work of his Number One Crazy.”

  “Sara.”

  “Like I said, Rox. She loves her toys.”

  “I’m going to kill her.”

  “Get in line,” said Lara. She offered a smile, which wasn’t so much reassuring as grim. “How the hell did they get you? I thought you’d be in Oregon by now with the hot husbands.”

  “I couldn’t leave you.”

  Lara’s blue eyes widened. “Oh, Rox. Please tell me you didn’t give up your freedom for me.”

  “Not just you,” said Roxie. “Crawl is unstable. The Blood Pack has never been awesome, but with him in charge, it’ll be a disaster.”

  “I know,” said Lara. “Psychic, remember?” She laughed, but it was a hollow sound. “Some psychic I am—I sure as hell didn’t see this coming.”

  “Crawl is an unpredictable bastard.” Roxie examined the small room. Four smooth walls, one large, metal door. Shit. “Where are we?”

  “Apparently Crawl had a bunker built somewhere in the desert.”

  “We’re underground?”

  “Yeah. Us and about a hundred Blood Pack members.”

  “That’s more than half the pack—all his supporters, right?”

  “Afraid so. I’m the only pro-Roxie werewolf here,” said Lara. “Crawl wants to make sure there are enough Bloods to witness his victory.”

  Even though she felt sick to the pit of her stomach, Roxie felt some relief in knowing that Grant, Jack, and the Pearsons would find them soon. She hoped. If the microchip in her neck even worked underground and led her mates and the bears to her, how would four big men with weapons sneak inside Crawl’s hideaway?

  “We gotta hang tight, Lara. Help is on the way.”

  Her friend blanched.

  “What?” asked Roxie. Foreboding sliced through her. “What?”

  “There’s not going to be a rescue.” Lara shook her head, her eyes sad.

  “You’ve had a vision?”

  Lara nodded, misery etched on her face. “You and Crawl fight. There’s a lot of blood. A lot of … pain. And … and there’s an explosion. I think this place is gonna be destroyed by fire.”

  Roxie couldn’t bear her friend’s look of devastation. Had Lara seen their deaths at the hands of Crawl? “Screw that. The future’s not written—you told me that.” She blew out a breath. “I’m not dying today. You’re not dying, either. I don’t care what your fucking vision shows you—my mates will come for us.”

  Lara nodded, but looked unconvinced. Roxie had to believe that Grant and Jack would find her. But what if the tracking device didn’t work? What if they didn’t find her and Lara in time?

  The metal door rattled then swung open. Sara stood in the doorway, looking like a punk rock reject in her torn jeans, leather jacket, and pierced face. “Who’s ready to get fucked-up?”

  11

  CRAWL’S SECRET BUNKER had all the amenities that Blood Pack members adored: unlimited beer, loud metal music, and primo brawling space. The large cage a la Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome was large enough to accommodate a whole pack of fighters. Truth be told, more fights would probably happen outside the cage than inside.

  Sara shoved her in and then slammed the gate shut. “Have fun.”

  Roxie flipped her off, which made Sara laugh before she sauntered away. Roxie didn’t have to look hard to see the faces of Bloods who thought maiming was a great hobby. Crawl had invited the worst members of the Pack to this place. The assholes surrounded the cage, shouting at her and trying to douse her with their beers. She went to the middle of the concrete floor to stay out of reach of the hands and liquid, but she couldn’t deflect the jeers and insults.

  A roar went up, and the crowd shook the cage, whooping and whistling as Crawl entered the battle zone. He didn’t wear a shirt. Typical. Like most Blood males, he wanted to show off his scars, tattoos, and muscles—a tactic designed to scare opponents.

  And it was working. Roxie was terrified, but she’d grown up in the Blood Pack and had learned at early age to hide her fear.

  Crawl spent precious seconds mugging to the crowd. After he’d whipped his confederates into a lather of hate-filled bloodlust, he joined her in the center of the ring.

  “Ready, sis?”

  “I can forfeit, right now.” She had a slim hope she could talk Crawl into a less violent solution. “You have a quorum. You win. No one gets hurt.”

  Crawl grinned. “Aw. Now what fun would that be?”

  He lunged at her. Roxi
e avoided the first punch, but the next one landed solidly on her chest. She was forced back, sucking in a breath from her protesting lungs. Crawl rushed toward her, grinning like the maniac he was, murder in his gaze.

  Adrenaline surged. She wasn't going to die here, damn it. Roxie dropped down. Crawl couldn't stop his momentum nor could avoid Roxie's leg side-swiping him at the knee. He cried out, stumbling, trying to use his arms to break his fall.

  He crashed to the ground.

  Roxie popped up and ran to her downed brother. He curled into a ball to protect his head, but fuck that, she kicked him hard in the ribcage. He rolled to his knees and reached for her, but she danced away from his flailing hands.

  "Bitch!" he screamed. "I'll kill you!"

  She knew he would try. Before he could get up, she darted in and kicked him in the stomach. He took the hit, groaning, but in mere seconds, he was back on his feet.

  Roxie's fear knotted her throat. She kept her gaze pinned to Crawl, trying to assess his next move. He was bigger, stronger, and more pissed off. How could she hope to defeat him—and save herself? And what about Jack and Grant? What would they do if she died at the hands of Crawl?

  Well, Rox, don’t die.

  They stared at each other, circling, waiting.

  Crawl uttered a guttural cry that sent shivers right down Roxie's spine.

  Then he began to shift.

  Roxie had no choice. She started shifting, too.

  It looked like the brawl would end with claws and fangs.

  THE PEARSONS TOOK out two Blood Pack guards at the entrance to the bunker. Jack and Grant followed the bear shifters down the shaft. When Gabe had suggested embedding a tracking device into the base of Roxie’s neck, Grant was the only one to express reservations. But brighter minds prevailed, and thank God, because the SUV carrying their mate had disappeared into the vast canyons of Red Rock.

  Whatever tech the bodyguards used apparently worked underground. No one was more surprised than Grant to find out Roxie had been scurried away five hundred feet under the desert soil. Worry threatened to destroy his self-control. Before mating with Roxie, he could’ve handled a situation like this without any problems. Now, however, adrenaline surged, making him feel anxious, shaky.

  They crept along the corridor, which was dimly lit by red lamps. At the end, they could go right or left.

  “We’ll take the left,” said Gabe. He and Mike took off.

  Grant took the lead on the right, and Jack followed. Grant knew Jack well enough to realize that he felt the same urgency to find their mate. He couldn’t think about what life would be like without Roxie—she completed their triad. She was their heart now. And how could he and Jack live without their heart?

  Within minutes, Grant caught the scent of Roxie. “She’s been here,” he said.

  Then they heard the music. The shouts. The growls.

  They followed the hallway as it curved to the left. At the end of the corridor, double doors were opened—and it seemed chaos itself spilled from the darkened area beyond. When Grant and Jack entered, the crushing mash of bodies, the scents of sweat and blood, and the horrible screeching music overwhelmed their senses.

  It didn’t take long to figure out where everyone’s attention was located. A huge caged ring was the centerpiece of the space. Grant knew immediately where Roxie was—and terror sent jagged cold straight into his heart.

  He and Jack didn’t even have to talk. They pushed and punched their way through the crowd until they got to the cage. Grant’s fingers curled around the wire as he watched a big, blonde wolf close in on a smaller, red wolf.

  Roxie.

  Their mate’s burnished coat was stained with blood. It looked like Roxie’s opponent had gotten in more the one vicious swipe. The bigger wolf, however, had sustained a facial injury and the beast was limping, which meant Roxie wasn’t making it easy for her psycho brother.

  The entrance gate was five feet to the right. All Grant could think of was getting to Roxie before Crawl killed her.

  Jack was right behind him.

  The gate was locked from the outside. Grant and Jack gripped the chain-link gate and pulled. Grant watched Roxie dodge her brother’s snapping fangs, but he could see she was hurt bad. If they didn’t get to her soon, Crawl might finish her.

  Jack and Grant pulled harder on the gate. With their combined efforts, they ripped the doors off its hinges.

  The crowd seemed to like the addition of two new fighters, and they screamed wildly as Earth alphas approached the large, blond wolf.

  The wolf swung around, snarling and growling. He stayed between them and Roxie. Roxie was swaying, badly wounded and blood leaking from her side.

  Fury welled up in Grant. “Jack, get our girl.”

  He punched Crawl in the head and heard a satisfying crunch of bone. The wolf was slammed sideways and Grant stalked toward the beast with every intention of killing it.

  A voice crackled in his ear. Shit. He’d forgotten about the earpieces the Pearsons had given them. “Grant. Jack. We have Lara. Out in five unless you want a front row seat for the fireworks.”

  Grant settled for a swift, hard kick into Crawl’s thick, stupid head. The wolf yelped and lay still. Unconscious, but still breathing. But not for long.

  Grant took the lead once again. Jack had their mate, still in wolf form, clutched in his arms. Grant cleared a path easily; rage making his punches extremely effective. Without the direction of their alpha, the drunken mob had no idea what to do. They scattered, and the Earth Pack alphas hurried out of the bunker.

  Gabe and Mike tossed the still unconscious guards into the bunker and slammed the metal door shut. Then they wired the door.

  “You’re going to blow it up?” asked the tiny blonde girl—Lara, no doubt.

  “It’ll give the Blood Pack a fighting chance,” said Grant. “Without Crawl and his cronies, the Bloods might be able to rebuild a pack worth saving.”

  “We’re gonna bury them, sweetheart,” said Mike. “You got a problem with that?”

  Lara shook her head. “Every one of those bastards can burn.”

  Grant escorted Lara to the SUV and helped her inside. He slipped into the back seat and took the weakened wolf. Jack joined him, and Roxie lay across their laps, panting shallowly and whining.

  “It’s okay, babe,” soothed Grant. “You’re safe. Crawl’s gone. He’ll never hurt you again.”

  WHEN THE SOUL once known as Crawl left his mortal form, his rage tethered him to the earthly plane. He wanted to kill Roxie, to hear her scream and beg for her life, to cause her exquisite, endless pain.

  He found her easily enough.

  She’d gone to Oregon. To the Earth Pack. Her happiness infuriated him. In no time at all, he became a shadow in her mind, stalking her in dreams. His torment spread into her reality, sucking away her energy. He stole her solace, weakened her heart, and shattered her will.

  And there was nothing she could do about it.

  12

  “NO!” ROXIE STRUGGLED out of the covers and landed feet first on the floor, her heart pounding erratically. Sweat dripped down her neck and her body felt cold and clammy. She shoved herself into the robe at the end of the bed.

  The shadow in her terror-filled dream seemed to bleed into her waking world, too. There were days she didn’t know if she was awake or asleep.

  She shivered. She’d mistakenly thought she could conquer the brutal nightmares. Tears fell, but she was tired of crying. Roxie scrubbed the wetness off her face. Why? Why did she feel this way?

  It had been three months since Jack and Grant had brought her to Earth Pack farm. The pack members accepted her instantly. She’d been welcomed with open arms, kindness, and affection. After she’d healed from the injuries sustained by Crawl, she’d embraced her role within the pack. Yet, as days passed, the contentment she’d owned since coming to the farm slipped away like sand clutched too tightly in a fist. The creeping depression suffocated her—a dark poison piercing her happ
iness like a scorpion sting.

  Feeling tired and weepy, she took a long, hot shower. She decided against make-up, pulled her hair into a ponytail, and dressed in knee-length dress the color of tangerines. She wandered aimlessly around the room, debating the merit of taking a walk. She didn’t want to stay in the room, but she didn’t want to leave it, either. Her husbands had gone out to visit Elsa. She knew they were worried about her. Doctors and herbalists had been unable to help, so now they were seeking advice from the pack psychic.

  Exhaustion claimed her. She dragged her sorry self to the bed, snuggled under the top comforter. She missed her mates, but the bed smelled like them, and so she felt safe and warm in the cocoon of covers.

  JACK AND GRANT sat at Elsa’s kitchen table. The older woman, who’d been the pack psychic for as long as they could remember, poured them herbal tea then joined them.

  “How’s Lara?” asked Jack.

  “She’s good. Very good. I’m glad you brought her to me. She’ll be an excellent replacement when I retire from my duties.” She sipped her tea. “You’re worried about Roxie.”

  “Did you consult your otherworldly friends?” asked Grant. Not being able to help his mate had driven him to utter frustration. His worry came out as impatience and anger—neither emotion was helpful.

  “Matilda told me that Roxie is pregnant,” said Elsa.

  Jack and Grant shared a shocked look. Grant couldn’t believe their mate was pregnant! Joy infiltrated his angst. Maybe this explained why Roxie was so listless, so depressed.

  “Is that why she’s so tired?” asked Jack.

  “Partly.” Elsa folded her hands. “Lara and I have worked together in the psychic realm to pinpoint Roxie’s illness. We’ve both come to the conclusion that she’s been attacked by a darker.”

  “What the hell is a darker?” asked Grant.

  “A spirit driven by rage and vengeance. It’s a shadow being that can affect her dreams and her reality. We must do everything we can to rid Roxie of this toxic and dangerous spirit.”