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

by Michele Bardsley

  “Look, honey!” Sam waved the blanket at him.

  He examined the crooked edges and smiled. “I think that color might blind our son.”

  “Daughter, smarty-pants.” She frowned, and, as always, he was drawn to the full curve of her lush mouth. “Is it too ugly, Rafe?”

  “Yes,” he answered. He leaned down and kissed her, loving the feel of her soft lips against his. “But it’s perfect. Just perfect.”

  Gripping the edge of the trunk, he stared down. His badge gleamed next to Sam’s picture. He tucked the badge under another box and picked up the framed photo. The glass had cracked; he traced the jagged line that crossed his wife’s face. With a sigh of regret, he tucked the photo under the scrap of baby blanket. Another minute of searching yielded his scanner, and he shut the lid. He wish could shut the lid on his memories as easily.

  Rafe put down the scanner and knelt beside Kaylie. Blonde lashes rested against peach cheeks. Her small chest rose and fell in relaxed sleep, chubby fists tucked under her chin. He resisted the urge to touch her, and instead, folded the blanket around her. Wolf must have found her right when she’d been abandoned. She hadn’t suffered from the cold.

  He stood and stretched, contemplating the possibility of a nap, but then Kaylie stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, and she stuffed her fist into her mouth. Her grunts and suckling noises made him smile ... until her lips puckered and she let out one helluva wail. Already Kaylie had taught Rafe this particular tune. He knew to check the diaper and warm a bottle.

  And he knew, much to his embarrassed delight, how to cuddle her while she ate.

  7

  WOLF STOPPED, EARS pricked forward. A warning growl rumbled from her, and Rafe stroked her head. “Easy, girl. Let’s check it out.”

  Kaylie, bundled in her pink hat, mittens, and frilly coat, rested inside Rafe’s zipped parka. Her head barely peeked out from the top. Rafe adjusted his arm, fitting it more securely under her bottom. She wiggled a little before settling against him, and her soft baby’s breath tickled his neck as she slept.

  A bottle and a pacifier were tucked in his pocket, ready to go if Kaylie woke. She’d spent the last two hours exhausting him, so he hoped her nap would be a long one.

  Rafe followed Wolf deeper into the woods. He knew they were heading toward a bend in the highway. About half a mile from the road, Wolf stopped and cocked her head. She went still, suddenly alert and watchful.

  Distant voices broke the silence.

  Rafe and Wolf crept closer until Rafe could clearly hear the conversation.

  “It’s been two days, Walt. That kid doesn’t have a chance.”

  “Gretchen Myers got her brains scrambled in the accident. She probably doesn’t even have a kid.”

  “Yeah? The child harness in the back seat has been chewed through.”

  “Jesus Christ and all the saints. Please tell me an animal didn’t drag a baby out of the car.”

  Rafe peeked through the brush. Uniformed cops combed the area. His gaze traveled to the crashed gray sedan. It bore immense damage. The foot of new snow deposited by the storm obscured any skid marks, blood, and footprints that might have been left behind. Even with the road opened now, a tow truck wouldn’t risk the slick roads and deep embankment. No, the sedan would stay put for a while yet.

  The police were looking for Kaylie. All he had to do was step out, offer up the infant, and go on his way. Would they think he’d kidnapped her? He rolled his eyes. He knew too many people at Metro who’d laugh at the idea of him committing a crime. Something about this whole situation set his teeth on edge. He definitely wasn’t sold on the idea of giving a shifter baby to humans.

  The cop named Walt spoke. “We need to widen the search—get the dogs out here.”

  “Yeah,” said the other cop. “You know, maybe someone found her.”

  “If they did, they’ve kept her. Child services hasn’t logged any calls or had any drop-offs in last forty-eight hours.”

  Rafe frowned. Kaylie’s mom must be worried sick. Why else would a werewolf mother send the human police to look for Kaylie? Maybe he should just hand her over. Fighting his uncertainty, Rafe took a step forward, reaching out to part the bushes so he could walk into the clearing.

  Wolf snagged his coat sleeve with her mouth and tugged him backwards. He hesitated, looking down at his furry companion. She seemed to understand his reluctance, even if he didn’t. Her big brown eyes seemed to say, “Wait.”

  Wolf’s instincts were in sync with his, and that made the decision easier. He would find momma wolf and take the baby to her. He’d find out more about the situation before he gave up the little girl resting so sweetly against him, and return to his lonely, pathetic existence.

  AFTER THEY RETURNED to the cabin, Rafe put Kaylie into her temporary crib. Wolf curled around the drawer again, resuming her duties as primary protector. He didn’t want to think too long about what he had to do next. He hadn’t opened the garage since his family had filled it up with boxes and furniture from the Las Vegas home he’d once shared with his wife.

  He hurried out the back door and headed toward the garage. His boots crunched in the snow, and his breath clouded the air. His hands shook as he put the key into the padlock and removed it. The door squealed as it rolled up and revealed the well-preserved life of a widower.

  He found the car seat quickly. His mother and siblings had packed the garage for him, and his mother’s organizational skills had not gone to waste. All the nursery items had been put together. The car seat remained unboxed. He and Sam had taken it out in anticipation of bringing their child home in it.

  But Sam, and the baby she tried so hard to bring into the world, never came home.

  He shut the garage door and re-locked it. Then he hurried to the cabin. He had to admit that his grief no longer felt like the sharp blade of a new knife. When had the sting of memory become bearable? When had he allowed the gilded edge of his sorrow to dull to an occasional throb?

  Rafe gathered Kaylie’s things and stuffed them into the purple bag. He put the car seat in the Bronco and buckled Kaylie into the contraption with an ease that reminded him of his rusty longing to be a daddy. Wolf climbed in and sat next to the baby, licking the girl’s blonde curls. Kaylie cooed, her lips curling into tiny baby smiles as she delighted in Wolf’s attention.

  “C’mon, girl. You gotta stay here.” Wolf licked Kaylie’s face one last time, and with a whimper, she hopped out of the Bronco. He let her into the cabin and she curled around the drawer.

  “She’s not ours, Wolf.”

  Wolf gave a half-hearted bark and looked at him with a sad gaze. He took that to mean: I found her. She’s mine.

  Turning Kaylie over to her mother was breaking Wolf’s heart. And if Rafe was honest … it was breaking his, too.

  8

  RAFE DROVE CAREFULLY on the two-lane mountain road cursing all the impatient idiots who passed him or honked their horns. It took him more than an hour to get off the mountain, and he breathed a sigh of relief when they hit the open highway. Now it was a straight shot to Vegas. After they got to the outskirts of the city, he stopped at a roadside diner and used the pay phone to call Summerlin Hospital, the nearest medical center to Mt. Charleston.

  “Gretchen Myers’ room, please.”

  “Just a moment, I’ll connect you.”

  Rafe hung up. He didn’t want to explain anything over the phone. It would be better to show up with Kaylie and answer Mrs. Myers’ questions face-to-face. She probably thought her baby was dead. The thought of Kaylie coming to harm squeezed his insides so tight he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t imagine the kind of agony her mother suffered as she wondered about the fate of her child.

  They arrived at the hospital.

  Rafe tried to smooth down Kaylie’s blonde hair, but several stubborn strands poked up. At least he wouldn’t have to explain wolf drool to a werewolf mother. With a sigh, he unhooked Kaylie and gathered her into his arms. He grabbed the purple bag and, b
attling the sense of dread settling into his gut, he walked into the lobby and asked for directions to Mrs. Myers’ room.

  He removed her mittens and tucked them into the tote. As they got into the elevator, he shifted Kaylie higher, and he felt her tiny hands press against his neck. They felt soft and sweet. Like butterfly kisses. He caught the smiles of an elderly couple sharing the elevator.

  The woman stared at the baby, her expression full of tenderness. She was human. A grandmother, if the scents of White Diamonds perfume and fresh baked cookies were any indication.

  “She’s your first baby, isn’t she, dear?”

  Rafe nodded as heat crept up into his face. Kaylie chose that moment to coo, her eyes open as she rested against the crook of Rafe’s neck.

  The couple chuckled. “Looks like she’s daddy’s girl,” said the man.

  The elevator stopped with a loud ding, and the doors opened. The couple exited with Rafe. He quickly said good-bye and hurried down the corridor to Mrs. Myers’ room.

  As he approached, he saw a man in a lab coat, a doctor perhaps, pause at the door. The dark-haired man covertly surveyed the hallway before entering. Rafe drew in the scent on the air. Werewolf. Instincts sharpened by both human and bear experiences alerted Rafe. Something didn’t feel right. He never ignored his gut feelings. He looked over his shoulder and spotted the elderly couple still shuffling down the hallway. In less than a second, he made the decision.

  “Excuse me,” he said as they drew near. “I’m visiting my wife and last time Kaylie, our baby, got scared by the machines. Would you mind watching her for just a few minutes?”

  The woman’s features lit up with delight. “We’d love to! We’ll go to the family area at the end of the hall and wait for you.”

  She took Roxie and the purple bag. Rafe felt suddenly bereft, and an odd panic pierced him. The woman patted his arm. “I’m Velma, and this is Henry. We have four children and nine grandchildren. Your little one will be just fine with us.”

  “Thank you. I won’t be long.”

  “Don’t worry, daddy.” The woman made a shooing motion with her free hand. “Go see your wife.”

  Rafe waited for the couple to move down the hall before he quietly opened the door. The room was dark. Silent. Too silent. No monitors beeped. No lights blinked from the machines. The shades were drawn tightly against the afternoon sunlight. The hair rose on the back of his neck.

  He smelled the werewolf at the same time he sensed movement on his left. He punched high, making contact with a throat, while simultaneously landing a straight kick to the shifter’s stomach. A muffled groan accompanied the thud to the floor.

  “I hope you’re not really a doctor,” he muttered. He felt the wall for the light switch and flipped it on. The man was curled on the floor. His face was red and sweaty, and his eyes were squeezed shut. The blow to the man’s gut prevented any noise except pitiful wheezing.

  He didn’t know whether to help the guy or to kick him again. His gaze swung to the bed in the middle of the room. A woman occupied it. He noticed that her arm hung off the side, limp and unmoving. The sheets were twisted around her torso, and a pillow covered her head.

  Rafe’s heart skipped a beat.

  The bastard had suffocated Kaylie’s mother.

  9

  RAFE PUNCHED THE fake doctor in the jaw when he tried to stand up. Werewolves were strong, but they didn’t have the strength of a fucking bear. The guy went lights out.

  He strode to the bed and tossed the pillow off Gretchen Myers’ face.

  She was breathing.

  The moment he saw her he felt sucker-punched. She had long hair, the color of wheat, and her pale face was heart-shaped. Beautiful.

  And she was human.

  That didn’t mean anything. If she was married to a werewolf, she could’ve birthed a shifter baby. The idea that she may already be mated gut-punched him. The unexpected reaction had him reeling even more than his complete and utter attraction to the woman.

  After he reassured himself the woman was okay, Rafe dragged her attacker into the tiny bathroom. He grabbed a hand towel resting on the sink, stuffed the middle portion in the guy’s mouth, and tied it tightly behind his head. He stripped his belt off and used it to bind the werewolf’s hands behind his back. After this moron woke up, it would take him a while to get free. Rafe planned to be far away before that happened.

  Rafe went back to Gretchen’s bedside and touched her face. Her cheek was soft and warm. God, it had been forever since his fingers had danced across a woman’s skin. He inhaled the scent of her—feminine and sweet, like honey. He loved honey. He was a bear, after all.

  Her eyes fluttered open. He was stunned by the color—moss green with flecks of gold. He saw the forest, nature, and life reflected there. His heart turned over in chest. What the hell was wrong with him? Then he noticed her gaze was wide with fear.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. He didn’t exactly sound comfortable.

  “That man…”

  “Don’t worry about him. Can you get out of bed?”

  “The meds make me sleepy.”

  Shit. Rafe wouldn’t be able to walk out of the hospital with a patient over his shoulder and a baby in his arms. He needed her to get motivated. “Kaylie’s here. I brought her to you.”

  “You have her? Oh, thank God. Where is she?”

  “Just down the hall.”

  Relief filled her expression. Then she frowned at him. “You’re not the police, are you? What are you?”

  Not who, but what. “My name is Rafe Pearson. I’m only here to help, I swear. Was your husband in the same accident? Where is he?”

  “I’m not married.”

  Not married? That meant she was a widow or she was single. Single didn’t make sense because werewolves didn’t breed indiscriminately. They mated before they had babies. He’d been a cop too long. He knew when someone was holding back on information. Gretchen Myers had secrets—and trust issues. He couldn’t blame her, though. It seemed obvious she was operating in a world she knew very little about.

  “I cold-cocked the guy who was trying to smother you. Any reason a werewolf wants you dead?”

  Her face went bone-white. “Oh, my God. I have to get Kaylie away from here.”

  Her panic was real, and so was her distress. When he was a cop, he’d seen that reaction too many times in women who’d been the victims of stalking. Someone was after Gretchen—and her baby.

  “Get dressed. We’ll go get Kaylie, and then I’ll get you both out of here.”

  “Thank you.” Gretchen sat up, removed the tape around her IV line and pulled it out. She swung her legs off the bed and put her feet on the floor. Her determination was admirable. Rafe sensed there was a lot about this woman he could like. Strength and perseverance was as sexy as beauty and lush curves. She managed to stand, but immediately began to sway.

  “Easy, sweetheart.” Rafe guided her to sit on the side of the bed. “I’ll bring your clothes to you.”

  He went to the small closet and pulled out what he could find: a sweater, jeans, socks, black lace panties and bra set—not standard mom issue—and a pair of zip-up ankle boots. He plopped them all next to Gretchen.

  “Would you mind giving me some privacy?” she asked, glancing down at her undergarments then back at Rafe. Her cheeks turned a charming pink, but she didn’t drop her gaze. Damn, she was cute.

  “No problem.” He moved to the door and turned away from her.

  “How did you find Kaylie?”

  Rafe heard the rasp of clothing and couldn’t help but imagine what Gretchen looked like without clothes. Those gorgeous breasts filling his hands, the feel of her writhing beneath him, breathy moans coasting along his skin as he plunged inside her wet heat. Rafe shook away the images, shocked at his own thoughts. It had been a long time since he’d had lustful inclinations. What the hell was this inexplicable attraction to a woman he knew nothing about?

  “Rafe?”

&
nbsp; Right. She’d asked a question. “My wolf found her and brought her to my cabin.”

  Her could hear her hesitation. Then softly, she asked, “You mean … you were in wolf form, and you found her?”

  Rafe looked over his shoulder, somewhat offended to be mistaken for a werewolf. Gretchen hadn’t yet put on her sweater, and his gaze roamed over her breasts so nicely displayed in the black lace bra. Desire swept through him, a hot yearning that he felt right down to his suddenly perking cock. Down, boy. We don’t have time to be frisky.

  “Do you mind?”

  “Oh. Sorry.” He faced the door again. “I’m not a werewolf. I’m a bear shifter.”

  “Bear shifter? How many kinds of shifters are there?”

  “Lots.”

  “I had no idea,” she said unperturbed.

  Rafe heard a soft groan. Shit. He opened the bathroom door and saw the werewolf coming to, his eyes fluttering open. Rafe gave the would-be assassin a left hook that slammed him into the side of the bathtub. The werewolf slumped to the floor.

  “Rafe?”

  He shut the door and pivoted.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Taking care of business.”

  She didn’t question him. Instead, she asked, “Where’s the baby?”

  The baby. Not my daughter or my child. He frowned. “Isn’t Kaylie yours?”

  Gretchen looked at him, haunted. “She’s my niece. Sorta. It’s a long story. But her mother is … gone.” She swallowed hard. “Vivian is—was my stepsister. She asked me to take Kaylie to Aunt Lila in Bleed City.”

  “Bleed City is a Shadow Pack protectorate. If Kaylie’s mom is a Shadow, then why do you have her daughter? The Shadows protect their own, especially the children.”

  “Look, I don’t know, okay? I came to Las Vegas for a conference, and Vivian found me. She asked me to take Kaylie to Bleed City—and that’s what I’m going to do.” Gretchen’s voice ached with sorrow, and her eyes gleamed with unshed tears. “Please help me.”