Hearts Unleashed: A Limited Edition Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

by C. D. Gorri

  “Yes.”

  “Good. His father had me in stitches. One time, he—”

  Adella froze mid-sentence, head whipping toward the front door.

  “Run,” she growled. “Crawl, if you need to. Arm yourself to the teeth and do everything you can to survive.”

  Dakota didn’t have a chance to question what the fuck was happening before the door trembled with a fierce blow on the other side. A second ripped through the hinges and sent it descending like an out-of-control drawbridge.

  Two massive wolves stepped through the wreckage, their lips curled back in matching snarls.

  Chapter Eleven

  Abel streaked away from his mother’s cabin. The scents and sights were all familiar to him, but there was something off. Not just the extra trails he suspected belonged to Rasmus and his trusted monsters.

  It was Dakota. He’d had her in his nose and within arm’s reach for days. He might be in the place he physically called home, but every instinct called for him to stay at her side.

  Impossible. Besides the obvious privacy issues, he was certain Dakota would twist his balls clean off his body if he tried to stick to her like a barnacle. Work, shopping, hobbies, all those little moments of quiet solitude… he couldn’t steal them from her by being an overbearing male.

  Still, an unsettled feeling crawled up his spine and curled up at the base of his neck. His ears twitched in all directions trying to capture any extra footfalls or breaths. He came up with nothing but those unfamiliar scent trails that didn’t make the feeling of being watched disappear.

  He was in enemy territory. Best not to forget that.

  He slowed as he reached his destination. Harlan didn’t live in the center of pack lands, but that didn’t mean he was completely isolated. His neighbors still had eyes and noses Abel wanted to avoid.

  He circled the two-story home twice, then sank down into the late-afternoon shadows near the matching shed. There was no movement at the front of the house, though both Harlan’s truck and his mate Jenna’s car sat in the driveway. Their pup, Sam, didn’t bounce around the swing set in the backyard.

  He made another loop, wider, and found the nearest neighbors just as secluded and quiet.

  “Well, are you coming inside?” a voice called as soon as he returned.

  Abel stepped out of the shadows. Harlan stood waiting at the edge of the back porch.

  His frame shimmered as his wolf stepped back, letting his human half enter the world again. “Wasn’t sure if I’d get an invitation.”

  He reacted fast, catching a ball of something thrown straight at his head. Shaking out the soft package, he tugged on the pair of sweats Harlan tossed at him, then followed the other wolf inside.

  Harlan slid out a chair at the table and took a seat, then gestured for Abel to do the same. He looked… off. Abel couldn’t put a finger on it. His clothes were clean, his hair brushed, no visible signs of injury. But there was still something stiff and unfamiliar.

  Could he blame him, though? He’d lost his alpha and watched two packmates die in a challenge fight against the killer. Those families were summarily banished from their homes while the rest of the pack faced threats to get in line or face the same treatment, if not death. The instability would put anyone on edge.

  Harlan wasn’t the only thing off about the place. The house itself was eerily quiet. Abel was used to seeing Jenna standing at the oven with a fist planted on her hip and a mitt strangled in her grasp, ready for the timer to chime that a fresh cake or tray of cookies had finished baking. Sam would often be underfoot and either playing with his toys or waiting impatiently to taste test the latest batch of treats.

  No one howled a greeting and shot across the kitchen. No scents of baking sweetened the air. Just Harlan, sitting at the table as stiff as a plank of wood.

  He wrapped his hand around the back of the chair, but stayed standing. “Where’s Jenna and Sam?”

  Harlan waved a hand. “They’ll be around soon.”

  Abel tested the air, but the other wolf’s scent didn’t change. Still, his inner animal was on alert. They’d known each other since his first stumbling steps, and the man didn’t trust him enough to know what his mate and pup were up to.

  The insult would have stung, but the hurt claimed all the pain.

  “Why did you come back, Abel? Why come here?”

  “You’re really asking me that?” He shoved a hand into his hair and paced away. “What was I supposed to do, let Rasmus get away with killing my father and stealing my pack?”

  Harlan gave a defeated shrug. “He made his challenge.”

  One he wasn’t there to meet. One he wasn’t even eligible to stop.

  Maybe he’d made a mistake. Maybe he should have walked away.

  His wolf whined and paced through his head. No way the beast would have accepted that decision. No way could he have abandoned everyone to Rasmus’s rule.

  He’d left, but he followed the final words of his father. He’d left, but he now had his mate at his side.

  A mate that still hadn’t agreed to the bond…

  His grip on the chair tightened. No, he had to believe in his father’s words, the words of her grandmother, the looks she shot him, and the beat of her heart when he was near. She was human, that was all. She needed a little more time to accept what sparked between them.

  For that future, he fought. For that same future he wanted everyone in the pack to experience, he’d rip apart every single wolf that stood in his way.

  “I’m making mine,” he told Harlan.

  He didn’t know what he expected, but the blank stare he received was not it.

  “Why come here?” his friend asked again.

  “You have a talent for knowing the way the wind is blowing. I’m going to make my challenge. I need to know if I’m going to find any unpleasant surprises when I do. Who will back me, who will stand against me, the sort of numbers to expect. My mother told me some of what’s been happening. I need to know if there’s more.”

  “More?” Harlan snorted. “He’s killed two of the top enforcers and sent their families packing. Adella tried to hide where they went, but do you think it was that hard for Rasmus’s wolves to track them down? They’re dead, Abel.”

  Sour bile coated his tongue. “Do you know that for sure?”

  Harlan offered another defeated shrug. “Anyone is a fool to think otherwise.”

  Motherfucker. One of his first acts would be to track down the particulars of that rumor. And if Harlan was right, he’d find a way to bring Rasmus back to life just to kill him all over again.

  “There’s no stopping him.”

  He hated the empty tone of his friend’s voice. Hated that it scratched at the back of his head like some ghost digging on the other side of the wall.

  The place was too quiet. Harlan was too broken.

  And Rasmus was willing to do anything to solidify his control.

  “Where are Jenna and Sam?” Silence was his answer. “Harlan, what happened to your mate and pup?”

  “He took them,” the other wolf whispered. He stared at his open palms, then slowly curled them into fists. “He told me this was how I could get them back.”

  “What did you do, Harlan?” He cocked his head. Footfalls. More than one. His wolf whined deep in his head. Again, he demanded, “What did you do?”

  The back porch creaked with the weight of a step.

  Hinges squeaked at the front of the house. The screen door, forever complaining about being used.

  Abel twisted in place as the door at his back swung wide.

  Three wolves crowded inside. Another three rushed in from the other side of the kitchen. Low growls sawed through the air, but the final arrival held Abel’s attention.

  “Hello, nephew,” Rasmus drawled. “I’d welcome you home, but you’re not supposed to be here.” His eyes flicked to the other wolves. “Take him.”

  Abel shoved to his feet and swung a fist for the first one to reach him.
A second blow connected with the one of the left’s nose, spurting blood down his face and sending the fucker staggering back.

  Claws sharpened and darkened the tips of his fingers as his wolf shoved forward. There was no need for sendings offering his opinion. They were in total agreement that every last one of Rasmus’s wolves needed fangs ripping through their throats.

  Something looped around his neck, and he was hauled back hard enough to pick him up off his feet. His skin burned at the contact as his wolf disappeared down to a dull, small, unreachable part of his mind.

  Silver. Fuck.

  A sharp kick to the back of his knee sent him to the ground. Panting, he strained against the silver corded around his neck. Four of Rasmus’s enforcers shifted where they stood, but the fifth held tight. The sixth didn’t move from where he’d slumped to the ground. Rasmus leaned against a wall, a sly smile playing at his lips.

  Harlan sat in the exact same spot he had before, shame coating his scent.

  Abel fought against the hands holding him down. A snarl ripped out of him. “Why?”

  Harlan shook his head sadly. “He has the pups, Abel. He has all the pups.”

  And with them, control. What parent wouldn’t compromise everything to give their pup a shot at life?

  The pack was in a worse state than he thought. So, so much worse.

  And he’d brought Dakota right into the thick of it.

  *.*.*.*

  Dakota eyed the darkness from the edge of the door. She could see the first set of steps, but not much else. Not that it mattered to the man behind her. The scar running across his face made his sneer all the more twisted and unpleasant.

  “Go,” he ordered.

  At least her hands weren’t tied. Not that she was capable of much. He’d made that clear when he picked her up by the shoulders and slammed her to the ground back at the cabin.

  Over his shoulder, Adella nodded.

  Dakota took her first step into the darkness. She fumbled for the rail as her eyes strained to adjust. One step turned into four, then five, ten, until a jarring final thump rattled up her spine.

  The scarred wolf prodded her back. “Keep moving.”

  She bit back the stream of curses she wanted to unleash. Being popped in the mouth once was more than enough to understand the consequences of backtalk.

  Adella was worse. Or had been. Most of her injuries seemed to have healed, even if blood still marred her skin. Abel’s mother had done her best to stand by her promise of keeping Dakota safe, but she’d been brought down with fangs at her throat.

  Fuckers.

  They were marched to the very end of the basement. The scarred wolf gave them a warning look before drawing out a key. Careful of the silver bars lining the solid wood, he swung open a door and gestured them inside.

  They weren’t the only prisoners.

  She quickly counted the small heads of human children and the fuzzy ones of wolf pups. A dozen cowered against the far wall, each one nearly shaking with fright.

  “Little runts,” the scarred wolf grunted.

  More than one sighed and slumped their tiny shoulders as the asshole slammed the door shut with a taunting laugh.

  Dakota spun around. Horror and shock warred for top billing in her head. Disgust and outright murderous rage joined forces for a sold-out double feature. Abel told her Rasmus was capable of monstrous acts. Seeing them for herself put his need to return in clear focus.

  “Did you know Rasmus took children hostage?” she hissed. Not that it helped. Too many eyes and ears twitched in their direction.

  Adella paled and took a step back. “Not this. Not about this. I’d have told Abel if I’d known.”

  Abel. Shit. He’d left not long before they were attacked.

  How many were gunning for him? The group that captured them were far from the total numbers Rasmus had at his command, that much was clear. And if he held children, how many others would willingly join the ranks?

  “If you let Abel walk into a trap—”

  “He is my son,” Adella snapped back fiercely. “I would never willingly harm him.”

  Dakota eyed her warily. No, she didn’t think so, but unknowingly? That was still on the table.

  What wasn’t seemed to be any sort of escape. They’d been taken to the pack house, which automatically meant Wolf Central. Even if they weren’t right below where Rasmus housed his meanest and cruelest, there seemed to be only one way in or out. Fire hazard aside, there was still the solid door to contend with. Even if they somehow managed to knock down the wood and saw through the bars without twitching an overly sensitive ear, one human, one wolf, and a dozen children weren’t any sort of meaningful army.

  They were stuck until whatever heinous purpose that kept their throats intact presented itself.

  “Miss Adella?”

  They both turned at the small voice. A boy that barely reached her hip took a handful of steps forward before sucking down a breath and staring at Dakota with eyes as round as saucers.

  Adella crouched down. “It’s okay, Sammie. She’s a friend of Abel.”

  The little one perked right up. “Mister Abel is here?”

  “I saw him just a bit ago. You know what he said?” The little boy shook his head. She dropped her voice in a deep imitation of Abel’s. “Tell Sam I bet he can’t do five whole pushups.”

  “Can, too!”

  “Is that so?” Dakota asked. Nearly every eye turned to watch her as she moved through the room and put her back against the wall. Not across from the kids, but not in their space, either. She slid down to the ground and hoped the distance and being closer to their level helped put them at ease. “Can you show me?”

  What happened next was near mayhem. Sam dropped to the ground and made it through three pushups before another boy rushed forward to prove that he could do even more. Then a girl joined the competition, claiming girls rule and boys drool, which prompted another boy and girl to jump in to prove their sides ruled and did not, in fact, drool.

  Three children didn’t join in at all. Not a smile or a laugh brightened their faces. They stayed crouched in the corner until Adella took a seat next to her, then they slowly inched closer.

  The brief flash of normal fun ended all too soon. Dakota’s throat tightened at the heavy silence that descended over them. They should have been running around without a care in the world, not trapped and separated from their families.

  “I miss Momma and Daddy,” Sam said.

  Dakota raised an eyebrow at Adella, but the she-wolf shook her head in confusion. That terrible unknown ate at her stomach and made her wish death on all the assholes upstairs.

  “Can you tell me what happened?” she asked softly.

  “The bad wolves,” Sam answered, fear shaking his voice. “They took Momma and me when we was camping in the backyard. Daddy has to behave, or we won’t see him again.”

  Adella wrapped an arm around Sam and smoothed down his wild hair. “I promise you, Abel is going to do everything he can so you see them again.”

  Maybe it was fast. Maybe it was crazy.

  There was no letting Rasmus win. She didn’t want to know what would happen to any of the children with parents brave enough to keep on fighting. The idea crouched in the dark part of her mind, a mad, hateful grin taunting her with reality.

  Trust her gut? Her gut said Abel was a good man, with a good heart. There was no future where he would cage children to control their parents. She couldn’t even picture it happening in an alternate universe. Abel would fight anyone who tried.

  Run with the wolves.

  This was where she belonged. With Abel, healing the damage his uncle inflicted on the others. The stakes were too great to just walk away.

  She wasn’t sure how long they’d lapsed into silence. There was no helpful way of judging the passing hours like a window or the chiming of a clock. All she knew was some of the little ones passed into a fitful sleep, but boredom and stress were equally as likely as hitting
their usual bedtimes.

  Every last one jerked awake before she heard the steps approaching the door.

  Both she and Adella pushed to their feet and put themselves between the pups and whatever bastard stood on the other side.

  The same scarred wolf that threw them into the cell leered from the doorway as soon as he swung it open.

  “You.” He crooked a finger in a summons. “Come here, human.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Abel pushed up on his toes and stretched his arms as high as he could. Pain sliced through him, but at least he worked a little movement back into his shoulder. His muscles barked and groaned, but there was nothing to be done except keep breathing. Even if that also hurt like hell.

  The rattle of the chains when he slumped down drew three sets of eyes.

  Rasmus had ordered him strung up in the foyer of the pack house the moment they arrived. Silver, looped around his wrists, drew his arms up, and the chains were secured to the railing of the second floor. They’d left his feet loose, but he could barely connect with the wood underfoot. Pushing off to land a kick wasn’t in the books.

  Time blurred after the first punch that cracked his head back and made his ears ring. The ones after that landed on his sides, his chest, his back and face. Feet and knees were added when some fucker laughed about using him as a punching bag.

  The silver kept his body from healing, but he was certain even free of the burn at his wrists he’d be black and blue and bleeding after the rough treatment. They seemed to hate that he wouldn’t cry out or beg, even when their biggest and meanest joined the party.

  When Rasmus tried his hand, Abel stared the fucker down and refused to even grunt.

  Late afternoon faded away through the front window, darkening the sky on the other side with the purples and pinks of evening. A scuffed step from the hall at his back had him tensing for a punch that never connected.

  “It’s time,” the voice rasped.

  And elder. The same who’d summoned him and his mother to his father’s pyre. A snarl built in his throat at the betrayal.