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

Page 47

by Michele Bardsley


  The deeper he ventured into the darkness, the more his skin crawled. Cold sweat beaded at his temples.

  He saw a flickering light and followed it into the secret grotto with its glittering lake. Torchlight danced on the craggy walls, scattering shadows.

  Shannon sat near the lake’s edge. Her arms were tied behind her back, and a gag was stuffed into her mouth. She looked exhausted and bloodied, but her attitude was pure rage. Relief flooded through him. No one could tamp down that spirited nature of hers. Not even…

  Gannon?

  His sister’s mate, the affable Gannon, now named Daniel, jerked Shannon to her feet and held a short sword against her neck. Aiden’s heart demanded that he march straight to Shannon and rescue her, but rusty warrior instincts snapped into place. She was the morsel baiting the trap. He would incapacitate the hunter first then he would release her.

  “Well, Áillen, here we are again,” Daniel said, his grin marred by the hatred in his gaze. “This time, we’ll get it right.”

  Áillen swung his gaze from Shannon to Daniel. “You? You killed Clíona?”

  “Not by myself.”

  “What have you done with the dragonwitch?”

  Daniel’s grin melted. His expression flashed with surprise. “There are no dragonwitches. I’ve spent the last 800 years ridding the world of all those interfering biddies.”

  Aiden swallowed hard. Disbelief crowded the air from his lungs. If the dragonwitch was free, then they still had a chance. “Did you kill Jessica, too?”

  Daniel merely shrugged.

  “I suppose I have you to thank for the sword through my chest?”

  “That was a millennium ago. Why hold a grudge?” He winked; so fucking assured of his own prowess that he didn’t have the sense to be worried about Aiden’s growing rage. “Alas, ‘twasn’t me. I wanted to behead you and burn your body, like a proper dragon. It seems you were worth more to a certain someone.”

  Asshole.

  Aiden roared and lunged forward. Daniel pressed the blade against Shannon’s neck. Blood pearled against the silver surface and dripped down her pale flesh. He froze and stepped back, fists clenched.

  “The only fear you ever shown was for her,” sneered Daniel. “A human. You’re not worthy of being the dragon king.”

  “There are no more kings, Gannon. If you seek to rule, you will find yourself without a kingdom.”

  “You’re a short-sighted fool.”

  “Always has been.”

  Aiden looked over his shoulder.

  Mrs. Calhoun stepped into the sacred circle, her gaze steady and her expression devoid of emotion.

  13

  THE DRAGONWITCH STUMBLED forward as if pushed, and Aiden noticed her hands linked in front of her. Silver manacles bound her wrists. Like most shifter species, silver weakened dragons. What he mistook for lack of emotion was the cold fire of the housekeeper’s fury, the deeply banked embers of anger he recognized easily. He’d harbored rage against his betrayers since the eve they drove the sword into his mortal flesh. All these years, he’d thought Clíona had taken her own life out of grief, that his need to keep her from the truth had driven her to her death. And to find out now that she’d been murdered, purposefully torn away from him because of his sister—his own blood—it drove his fury to the brink of recklessness.

  “I’m having some serious déjà vu,” said Bridget as she dragged the older woman forward. Aiden noted the gun pointed at Mrs. Calhoun’ head. Dragons were immortal—but not unkillable. Removing a dragon’s head was very nearly the only way to kill one of his kind.

  “Bridget.” His heart broke as he stared at her. He’d loved Bridget. Trusted her. And she had been responsible for all his worldly his misery? He couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it.

  She flashed him an unrepentant glance, and in that swift second, he saw the true coldness of her soul. His gaze sought Shannon’s. Her eyes shone with tears of anger and helplessness, and yet, he saw her trying to convey strength to him. He tried to do the same for her, even though the fear he might lose her for another eternity constricted his chest.

  Bridget gestured for Mrs. Calhoun to stand next Shannon. The dragonwitch didn’t hesitate to obey, but her actions were unhurried as if she were out for a stroll instead of being threatened with imminent death. He silently cheered her on.

  Bridget smashed Mrs. Calhoun’ temple with the butt of the gun. The woman slumped unconscious to the ground.

  The moment the dragonwitch hit the dirt Áillen saw a flash of steel. Daniel twisted the short blade and brought it down on the dragonwitch’s neck. Shannon’s muted scream echoed in the cavern as Bridget’s mate cleanly sliced off the dragonwitch’s head. It rolled away from the body, coming to rest at the lake’s edge. Blood drained from the stump, and Shannon dropped to her knees, and keened.

  “Shut her up.”

  Daniel smashed the sword’s pommel against Shannon’s temple, and she slumped forward, landing face-first in the dragonwitch’s blood.

  “Goddamn it!” Aiden shouted. “Don’t touch her!”

  “I have to touch her in order to kill her,” said Daniel drolly.

  “Don’t worry. The two of you will die together,” said Bridget. “It will be romantic, brother. Just the way you like it when it comes to Clíona.” She removed the manacles from the housekeeper. “Put them on.”

  Aiden stared at her, mutely refusing.

  Shannon stirred, moaning as she sat up. The dragonwitch’s dark blood covered her face and neck. He could see it dripping down her pale flesh, soaking the front of her shirt.

  Bridget raised the gun and shot at his wife. The bullet ripped through her arm. Shannon’s scream of pain was barely silenced by the gag in her mouth. Aiden watched helplessly as blood poured from her wound.

  “Stop it!” He lifted his arms and presented his wrists. Bridget snapped the cuffs around his wrists. He immediately felt weaker and swayed on his feet. Cold grief mixed with hot fury. “Why?”

  “Because she made you weak. She softened your heart and your brain. If you’d treated her like a toy or a pet—that I would’ve understood. We all have our fun with the inferior species. But you were king, Áillen. King! And you chose a human as a mate. Do you really think the spawn she would have bore you could have been anything but a weakling? It would’ve been only a matter of time before other dragonkind contested for your crown. Our family blood, our royal standing, decimated because you fell in love with her!”

  Bridget marched to Shannon and grabbed her hair, yanking her head back to reveal the vulnerable flesh of her throat. He felt his mate’s agony reverberate through his soul. Then Bridget put the muzzle against Shannon’s temple.

  “Please, darlin’ Shannon, join the conversation.”

  “You suck,” Shannon croaked out.

  “How American.”

  “You think the crown mattered to me?” he yelled. “I would’ve gladly given it all away if it meant Clíona and I would be left in peace.”

  “You see? That’s the problem. You were Father’s legacy. You were supposed to bring us into the great dragon age.”

  “What does it matter now?” asked Aiden. “The realm has fallen. Dragons are nearly extinct.”

  “And whose fault is that?”

  “You want the crown, Bridget? Take it. Just let her go. Let her live.”

  Bridget’s expression half-morphed into dragon scales, and she roared. “How disappointing. You still chose her over your duty to us. Nearly a thousand years apart, and you want only her.”

  “Yes. I will always choose her.” He swallowed hard. “I’ll give you everything, Bridget. The castle, the money, the crown. Whatever you want. Just spare her. Please.”

  Bridget shook her head and her facial scales disappeared. “I don’t need you to give it to me. This time, I will take it. I gave you a chance—a chance at a real mate, strong progeny, and true dragonkind leadership. But all you could do was mourn her loss.” Anger twisted her features. �
�You will die, brother. You and your human. Then Gannon and I will build a new world for the dragons.”

  The pain of watching Bridget and her mate betray him turned his blood to fire. He wanted nothing more than to take their heads and set their bodies ablaze. Bridget and Daniel deserved nothing from him, especially not mercy.

  Let them share death roared his dragon.

  Aiden’s beast strove for freedom. The silver dampened his shifter abilities, but he was king, damn it. The terror in Shannon’s gaze made his rage blaze bright. His dragon cried, “Free me! Avenge her!”

  But even if he managed to do so, his siblings would do the same and Shannon would not live through a dragon battle.

  Fear twisted his guts as he watched his betrayers threaten the life of his beloved. It’s not fair, his soul raged, this is not the way it should end. Tears of helplessness gathered in his eyes. No! No! No!

  A circular glow began to emanate from Shannon’s neck. The red light grew brighter and brighter. He looked at Shannon and saw the courage in her eyes, the strength of heart and mind he knew so well. She would fight with every breath, and should she die, she would meet it with honor. He could offer no less.

  “What the hell?” Bridget looked down. She grabbed Shannon’s shirt and ripped it. Shannon wore a necklace, one he’d only seen used in dragonwitch ceremonies when power was transferred between an elder and an acolyte.

  He knew the instant when Bridget recognized it, too. “No!” She lifted the gun once more, and Aiden crossed the short distance and rammed his body into his sister. The gun flew out of her hand and into the lake. Bridget rolled onto the ground and popped up, her shift already beginning.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” shouted a new voice.

  Aiden barely had time to recognize his younger sister Jessica before she was on Bridget, hissing and scratching. Both women half-morphed as they fought to overcome the other.

  Aiden felt a hot swipe on his back, and cried out, whirling around. His blood dripped from Daniel’s blade.

  Daniel made the mistake of coming too close to gloat, and Aiden head-butted him. The man flew backward, his shock evident in his expression. He sprawled on the ground. His blade skittered across the dirt to land at Aiden’s feet.

  Aiden looked behind him. “Run,” he yelled at Shannon. “Run!”

  Mutely, she shook her head. Instead she got to her feet and limped over to him. She removed the manacles. “I’m fine. End this.”

  He kissed her hard, putting all his love into that brief meeting of lips, and then grabbed the short sword and ran toward Daniel, who began to shift into his dragon form.

  Aiden jumped the last few feet, landing on Daniel’s chest, forcing him to the ground. Scales and claws erupted, but he brought the blade swiftly across Daniel’s neck. His brother-in-law barely had time to gurgle, his animal eyes wide as his head separated from his neck.

  Aiden partially morphed—a dragon’s head with a man’s body and roared out flame. It consumed the corpse of sister’s mate. Then he turned his flame onto Gannon’s head and reduced it to ash.

  “Áillen!” Jessica cried.

  He whirled and saw Bridget running toward him, her expression filled with grieving vengeance.

  Before he had time to engage his sister in combat, a bright red beam encompassed her. He turned his astonished gaze to Shannon, who stood tall and healthy, her body bathed in the same red glow. She lifted her hands, and Bridget sailed upward. Shannon brought her hands down and quickly and Bridget slammed into the ground.

  His sister went limp.

  “Is she dead?” asked Jessica. Now in her human form, his little sister looked worse for wear. Bruised and scratched, she kneeled and pressed her fingers against Bridget’s carotid pulse. “Damn it. Only unconscious.” Jessica glanced between Shannon and Aiden. “We cannot let her live.”

  “She is my blood,” said Aiden. “I will sequester her in the Norway prison. No dragon has ever escaped the underground fortress.”

  Jessica blew out a breath. “As you wish, my king.”

  Shannon joined them her gaze knowing.

  “Clíona?”

  Shannon laughed, tossing her hair behind her shoulder in the sassy way Aiden remembered. Her spirit was beautiful, shining and bright and willful. She was as much a warrior as he. And now, she was dragonwitch, too. Her lips curved into a smile.

  “You remember, don’t you?” he asked.

  “I didn’t need a ritual. I needed only to be near you on this night for my past and present to mend.”

  “This night?” asked Jessica.

  “The anniversary of my death,” said Shannon. “The anniversary of all that was set into motion when I was murdered.” Her gaze sought Aiden’s, and his heart exploded in gladness at the recognition in her eyes. “I know you, my love.”

  “You and Áillen can live this lifetime as you should, with love and longevity.” Jessica patted Shannon’s flat belly. “And strong, fine children.”

  “Thank you,” said Aiden. He hugged his sister. “I never expected…”

  “I was sent to you as a potential mate, but also as a guardian. You might have lost your way over the years, but our people, including me, believe in you. You will bring on the next dragon age. You and your dragonwitch queen.” There was only the tiniest hint of wistful remorse in her tone.

  Aiden shook his head. “I apologize for underestimating you…and your loyalty. I owe you my life.”

  “Well, name your first babe after me.”

  “We will,” promised Shannon. “Although you’ll have to tell us which name that will be.”

  Jessica laughed. “I’ll let you know.”

  “What happened to Kenneth?” asked Aiden.

  “I sent him home, thank goodness, before all this nonsense started.” She raised a devious brow. “I think he’ll do very well at keeping me in the style I’ve grown accustomed to.” Her expression softened. “Besides, he’s a nice man. I could do worse. And have.” She retrieved the silver manacles and clasped them onto Bridget’s wrists and heaved the woman onto her shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “I’ll put her in the dungeon for now.”

  Aiden tugged Shannon into his embrace. Alive. In his arms. Forever.

  “You’re squeezing the breath out of me,” murmured Shannon against his chest.

  He laughed, unable to stop his tears of joy, and eased the pressure of his hug to look down on her beautiful face. Love shone in her eyes, her cocky smile belied the tender strokes of her fingers as she traced his tears.

  “A warrior bawling like a babe,” she teased. “Hardly the way to catch a girl’s fancy.”

  “'Tis enough I caught you.”

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  Tales from The Pack Rules Worlds

  Taken by the Werewolf Triplets

  Winter Pack

  “I REFUSE.” ECHO Velmont stood before the Elders, who were the ruling Council of the pack, and stared at them with her back straight and head held high. In the cavern where legend proclaimed the first pack members were born, with torchlight dancing on its craggy walls and incense smoke wafting through the dank air, she’d waited impatiently for these fools to pronounce her punishment.

  But she had not expected to be the her pack’s tribute.

  No, its sacrifice.

  Elder Magnus, the Council’s leader and the most supercilious of the three men passing judgment, smiled indulgently. “You have outlived three husbands in a short amount of time. Worse, you have no children to show for those matings. You are not fulfilling your duties to the pack.”

  “Duties given to me for no other reason than I am female.”

  He rasped a chuckle. “If men had wombs, we would do the same. Alas, our contribution is far simpler than yours. But you get much in return, Echo.”

  Except freedom. She could not choose what she wanted for her ow
n life because the pack needed her to churn out pups. Her own mother had died giving birth to her fifth child -- to Echo. She had never known the softness of a mother, but being raised by warriors had made her tough. She didn’t cry — she handed you your ass. Her upbringing had also made her long for a life she could never have -- unless she wanted to give up the pack, including her family. She wasn’t a wuss by any means. However, werewolves without a pack were vulnerable to things, and to creatures, she didn’t even want to contemplate. She chafed at the constraints of the pack’s expectations, but she wasn’t an impulsive fool, either. Most of the time.

  Her father had passed away last year. Her brothers were all married and their mates were either pregnant or raising their young. Despite having shaped her from childhood with their own warrior ways and manly attitudes, they did not understand her refusal to act like every other insipid female that lived within their community.

  She stared straight ahead. “I have married as pack law demanded.”

  “And purposely avoided pregnancy.” Elder Magnus shook his head. “You knew there would be punishment for this transgression.”

  “So honoring the Daughter of Man is punishment?”

  Elder Magnus’s face flushed red. The two other council members had the grace to look away. They cleared their throats, and looked down as if studying the paperwork on the table. Bastards.

  “Of course the representation of the… the female in our rites is a great honor. This is your opportunity to make up for your failures. You must show the pack you are worthy of its protection.”

  “And if I get pregnant?”

  “No female has ever gotten pregnant,” he said, “but if you do, you know that it means great blessings upon us.”

  Genetic mutations and species evolution offered better explanations for werewolves. But no, the Winter Pack honored the arcane belief that three wolf brothers, River, Stone, and Ash, fucked a random human and managed to impregnate her at the same time. Six months later, she popped out three werewolves: red, black and blonde, which became the three accepted werewolf branches of the Winter Pack. Mostly, the Winter Pack tended to ignore that there were other packs outside of it. It was almost like the Elders refused to believe any other shifters existed, and that belief was easy to justify since the Winter Pack occupied remote areas in Alaska and Canada. They eschewed human contact. Although, she had heard of the River pack taking in werecat shifters who had raised one of their orphaned wolves.

 

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