Wolf’s Heart
A Wolfpack Delta Novel
By Cam Cassidy and Ruelle Channing
Wolf’s Heart
A Wolfpack Delta Novel
By: Cam Cassidy and Ruelle Channing
Published by Fated Desires Publishing, LLC.
© 2014 Cam Cassidy and Ruelle Channing
ISBN: 978-1-62322-093-8
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person or use proper retail channels to lend a copy. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the publisher at [email protected].
All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination.
Wolf’s Heart
Wolfpack Delta gave Ryden Coulter’s life purpose after the attack that not only changed his life, but his only hope for happiness. While the woman he left behind is always on his mind, he knows that his new-found strength lies in the power of his wolf, not in his heart…or so he thinks.
Born for the sole purpose of saving another’s life isn’t quite the way one imagines being brought into the world, but Carlee O’Shannon knows no other reality. The one time she ever opened her heart, she lost it all. Vowing to never let another person hurt her that way again, she’s unprepared for Ryden to come back into her life.
Together again, out of necessity rather than desire, Ryden and Carlee will be forced to fight not only for their lives, but the lives of Ryden’s unit. Secrets and danger lurk beneath the surface, and it will take more than the strength of a lone wolf and the woman he loves to fight their way out.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to all our friends and family that put up with our crazy hours at the computer talking to ourselves, crying and laughing.
Acknowledgements
For my wonderfully understanding husband Dave and my kids, Cody, Dusty & Katie. Your support means the world to me. ~Cam.
My three daughters who make my world go round and give me reason to get up each day. Glory to God. ~Ruelle.
Carrie Ann Ryan & Lia Davis of Fated Desires thank you for having faith in our dream.
Special thanks to Ekatarina Sayanova for her wisdom and guidance and not hitting us with an English book
Jenny Needham, Lena Hardin, Heather McNeal and .Mistress Renee… the best Betas ever.
Golden Czermak for the awesome shots of Matt Mendrun.
Valerie Tibbs for the fantastic cover that exceeded our dreams.
Chapter One
Life was a waste, at least that’s how Ryden Coulter felt these days. So much heartache happens when there’s too much time, and he had an abundance of it. As a child, he hoped to just get through each day with a meal in his gnawing stomach. Now, his life consisted of missions, war, killing, and his unit. Sitting across the table from his best friend, Ryden wondered why he even bothered.
“Will you stop sulking, already?” growled JT. “You’re beginning to act like me.”
“Shut the fuck up, will you? Let me nurse my beer in peace.” Snarling, Ryden downed the last of the brew and held up his empty bottle to the waitress across the bar. She smiled immediately, nodded and ignored all the other patrons to bring him another cold one.
“I don’t get you, man. You had the woman of your dreams, and you just let her go.” Shaking his head, the older man across the table eyed his comrade.
“Oh, yeah? And how’s that desk job working out for you? Still feeling like it’s the best choice you ever made? Don’t bother lying. I can read you like a book. Your years in the military have you still itching to see some action, and you damn well know it.”
“Nope, had enough of that and gladly turned the reins over to you.”
Temporarily distracted, Ryden barely glanced at the beautiful blonde waitress and gave her a quick thank you as she set the bottle down. He turned the fresh bottle up, immediately downing more than a third of it.
Anything for you, sugar?” the waitress asked JT.
“No, thanks. I’ve had all I want,” JT said with a wave of his hand, not even looking her way as he spoke. The woman walked off in a huff, blonde hair flipping across her shoulders, obviously unhappy with the abrupt dismissal she’d just been dealt. Ryden figured she wasn’t accustomed to getting the cold shoulder.
“Why do you do that?” Ryden said. JT didn’t even look at his companion as he turned his Corona up for another pull, set it down, and looked around the room as if he was trying to spot a predator among the DC bar hoppers. “She’s panting after you and all she gets is a wave of your hand.”
“You wanna talk about my sex life or have a few drinks?”
As usual, Ryden ignored the question and posed one to JT.
“Oh, so your sex life is closed for discussion, but mine isn’t?” Ryden rolled his eyes, clearly having been down this path before. “You always bring her up, and I always shut it down. You know why I won’t call or see her so, can it, will you?”
“I’ve told you before, Ryden. You’re not a danger to her, never was, never will be. You have control unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Most have the thirst for years before they can control it. You gathered the strength to you like you’d been born to it. If anything, you’re a danger to yourself because you lack the common sense to see what’s right in front of you.”
“Fuck off, JT. I’m not calling her, and that’s final.” This was the same argument just a different day.
Ryden growled as JT attempted to stare him down. Neither of them wanted a fight, much less one so public, so both broke the challenging gaze at nearly the same time.
There was a time when Ryden had a woman he adored beyond all things, including his career. Carlee was his perfect match or had been until life tossed him a curve ball. Then, he broke contact with her, burying himself in the Army until he thought he could finally forget her.
He knew she’d been hurt by his curt phone call more than three years ago when he told her they were finished. He could hear the tears across the crackling phone line, even from thousands of miles away while he was stationed in Afghanistan. He hated what he’d done, but he would have hated it more if his new life had somehow tainted her pure heart and life.
Shaking himself out of his past, he looked at JT and sighed. “It is what it is. Nothing I can do about it. She’s probably married with a kid by now.”
“Nope, she’s not. She’s still single and been working in DC for the past three years, since right after you broke it off with her. She’s still got the same apartment in Baltimore and commutes to the city.”
Shaken, Ryden looked up at JT and set his beer down with a thud. “How do you know this?”
“I’m military, remember? There’s nothing I can’t find out. If I can’t find it, then I know people who can. When I found out you were on leave and coming to see me, I did some digging. She’s with the FBI, working forensics and making a name for herself, from what I hear.”
“Dammit, JT, leave it alone. That fucking plane ride here was enough. Fifteen hours of torture, crying kids and the asshole behind me kicking my seat. I didn’t fly all this way to be cornered. You know I’ll come out swinging.”
When Ryden finally stopped talking, JT let the silence fill the space for several minutes while Ryden calmed down.
“I know you mean well, but please, just let it go. It’s my choice.”
“Ryden, do you remember that night? Hell, it’s be
en too many years to count for me, but I remember when it happened like it was yesterday. It never leaves you, no matter how long it’s been.”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “I remember, every damn minute of every damn day. Sometimes I wish you’d let him kill me instead of saving my life. At least then maybe Carlee would have mourned me instead of hating me like I’m sure she does now.”
He remembered the fear when he was attacked, the pain from something he had no idea even existed. Images and feelings pulsed through his body like they were happening again even while he sat over drinks in a bar years later.
“She might be angry, but I doubt she hates you. She’s got grit, that one. Take more than a broken heart to keep her down long, but you and I both know she’s yours, the one meant for you. Why else would you still think about her like you do?”
“It can’t happen, JT. It…it just can’t.” Standing up and tossing a few bills on the table, Ryden grabbed his jacket and tossed it over his shoulder along with his duffel bag. “I gotta go. Jet lag is catching up to me. I’ll see you again before I have to head back. Thanks for the chat.”
Without waiting for JT’s reply, Ryden turned to leave, weaving his way around tables and out the door into the fresh air outside, away from the smoke and stale body odor. He knew his friend meant well, but it was like this every time he saw JT. Carlee was a constant source of argument between the two of them and one neither would win. Ryden was determined to let her live her own life, free of him and his fears of finally succumbing to the blood lust that all his kind faced. Even if JT was right, he wouldn’t risk hurting the only woman who’d ever loved him and who’d been there for him during the nightmares that stemmed from his own terrible childhood.
Now, those nightmares paled in comparison to what he faced daily. Still, his childhood was nothing to dismiss. There were the years of near starvation while his mother drank or shot up every dime she managed to scrape together before being shot down right in front of him by her drunk, abusive boyfriend. As if that wasn’t enough, the various foster homes he managed to run away from just made it worse. As a young boy, no one cared about him; no one saw anything worthy in him. If he hadn’t met Justin Walters and later Carlee, then joined the Army, it was a coin toss how his life would have ended up.
Now, by his own choice, he only had his unit—the seven men and one woman he led into battle—and the responsibility for carrying out special orders only given to the elite Delta Force. They were his family now, and that’s all he needed.
At least that’s what he kept telling himself every day, and every day, that fell short of the truth, but he wouldn’t admit it—not to JT, not to his unit and certainly not to himself.
The only thing he would admit to himself was his love for Carlee. That would never change, no matter how much time went by. It still didn’t change the outcome of what he knew was right, but what else was he supposed to do? The alternative wasn’t an option in his mind. He had to leave her to her own life and protect her from his.
Chapter Two
Walking into her domain at the FBI crime lab, Carlee O’Shannnon reached over, placed a finger on the light switch, and held it for just a moment. A large smile crossed her face as she listened to the fans in the computers and the idling lab equipment. No matter how crazy things got, that humming sound always seemed to calm her. The machines were in various areas in the room and their indicator lights flashed red, green and amber casting the light across the darkened room like some freaky night club.
Taking a sip of vanilla latte, she flipped on the lights, and watched as her world came to life.
Becoming a forensic scientist wasn’t exactly what she had dreamed of at first. After all, what little girl wants to spend her day going over crime scene evidence? Now, there was nothing she would change.
She took off her jacket and hung it on the hook by the door before walking over to her desk. As she took her seat, she immediately noticed a missing picture.
“Who the hell was in my lab?” She frantically opened the drawers as she talked to herself, checking the floor, the trash. “Kyle, where the hell are you?”
The picture was nowhere to be found. A lump the size of Texas formed in her chest. The picture was one of the few that she had of her and Kyle, her older brother. It was her most prized possession. It had been taken on one of the few times in her adult life that she had seen him. The memories of the past flashed through her mind as if they had occurred yesterday.
She was born during a winter blizzard. Her father was a pilot in the Air Force. He was out on a mission and not able to make it back in time for her arrival. Her mother, a lawyer, argued with the doctors that it wasn’t time, Carlee wasn’t supposed to be born yet. Even so, Carlee Renee O’Shannon was born without her parents’ permission. That was their first disappointment.
“Normal” was never a word that would be used in connection with her childhood. As far back as she could recall, life was a series of doctors, needles and pain. The appointments weren’t for her, Carlee wasn’t the sick one, her brother Kyle was.
Kyle had been born with a severe form of beta thalassemia. He required blood transfusions monthly, and his only hope was a bone marrow transplant. Finding an unrelated compatible donor was not likely, and a stranger’s blood flowing through the veins of her parents’ precious baby boy for the rest of his life wasn’t an option. The solution? Carlee was conceived and born eleven months and five days after Kyle for the sole purpose of being his own personal blood bank.
She couldn’t say that she had a terrible childhood. What did she have to compare it to? She had clothes, food, and a roof over her head. Life just was what it was. Lots of doctor visits, lots of time spent alone with nannies and tutors. Regular school was out of the question as she grew up. Risking an infection or a virus was not acceptable. It would put Kyle at risk, not only from the virus itself, but also risked the blood supply he so desperately needed in order for him to live a normal life.
She and Kyle were close. He was her big brother so, then and now, she would do anything for him. Waiting on transfusions, she would sit in his room and read anything she could get her hands on. The gift of learning came easy. Of course, the private tutors helped. Carlee learned more about Kyle’s disease and prognosis than probably even the doctors knew, definitely more than her parents. The problem came when her marrow was not a match for the transplant. That disappointment rocked the world of the entire family.
She was only ten when her parents found a doctor who was willing to try a bone marrow biopsy. Her veins were giving out. She was becoming anemic and not growing at the same rate as most children. She was shorter, paler, and more tired than most would be. Not that the thought of changing anything came to mind. Donating blood meant spending time with Kyle.
To say her parents were furious would have been an understatement. The doctor was forced to slow down the blood they took from her for fear of malpractice. Even her parents offering extra cash couldn’t persuade him to put his license on the line.
That was when she learned the truth about her place in her family and the real reason she had been born. Failing the bone marrow test was her parents’ ultimate disappointment and, thus, her ultimate failure. That was the last time she saw Kyle. She remembered sobbing as the maid packed her suitcase. Her parents had not even come home to say goodbye.
Her mind flashed forward to the missing photo. She had been coming out of a tattoo parlor grinning, too lost in her own thoughts of what her boyfriend, Ryden, would think or, to be more precise, what he would do when he saw the tat. Walking through the door, she did a face plant on a hard, obviously male chest. Snorting and rubbing her nose she looked up and squealed as she looked into Kyle’s eyes.
“Kyle! Oh, my god!”
He looked fantastic, healthy for the first time in what seemed like forever. Strong arms wrapped around her, holding her close to his chest, laughing as she croaked out “Need some oxygen here, Bro.”
Kyle had let her go,
and held on to her arms as he took a step back to look at her. “I have looked everywhere for you and now I find you hanging out in a tattoo shop? Wait, exactly what are you doing here, little sister?”
Carlee grinned, reaching down to lower the waist band of her lime green sweats to reveal the peach she just had tattooed on her hip. Kyle let go of her arms and held his hands in the air.
“If that thing goes any lower I do not wanna see. Some things just aren’t meant for a brother’s eyes, ya know what I mean?”
Carlee watched his eyes as he looked at the tat, she saw the unasked question.
“A peach? I know there’s a story behind that, but there is no way I wanna go there. To me you’re forever fifteen. I’m just glad it isn’t some guy’s name or initials. Of course, that would give me a clue as to the person I need to kill if he breaks your heart.”
It was as if he knew the little trip her mind had just taken, and he reached out and wrapped his arm around her neck nearly putting her in a choke hold.
“Come on, Car, you can stay with me while I get some ink for myself. How about two stars, one on each pec? One for you, one for me.” She remembered laughing as he flexed his muscles, making his pecs dance before she followed him back inside.
As they sat inside and the artist, Jonah, began with the needle, Kyle showed no pain. He looked at her and laughed, “Lemme guess, you cried like a baby during yours?”
She opened her mouth to argue, but Jonah nodded his head erasing any hope that Kyle would believe the tough girl act. “No, I didn’t! Well, not exactly like a baby. I may have whimpered a few times, or six or seven. You know I hate needles.”
Kyle reached out and touched her cheek. There was always sadness when he was young. His gaze was different now. The sadness was still there, but there was something else. Anger.
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