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

by C. D. Gorri

  The three wolves set to guard him pushed to their feet. “Keep him chained, but bring him outside. The alpha wants a word.”

  Fury burned through all Abel’s pain as the chains above his head dropped to the ground in a jangling heap. Alpha? His uncle didn’t deserve the title.

  They dragged him through the house and out the back doors. Wood had been erected for a bonfire in the exact spot where his father’s pyre had burned. He doubted it was a coincidence.

  The gathered pack, either.

  Shocked gasps and stunned looks washed over the wolves penned in by Rasmus’s enforcers. Some paled and went silent when his uncle passed, but others blazed hotter with defiance.

  Then there were the ones on the edge of the crowd, not quite slapping backs with Rasmus’s trusted bastards and not quite disgusted with them, either.

  How many were like Harlan, he wondered, with their mates and pups held elsewhere? How many were simply along for the ride?

  Abel didn’t have much time to consider before Rasmus jumped into the twisted festivities.

  He walked to the far side of the pack before turning on his heel and pacing front and center. Every eye turned to him as the moments ticked by until even the most reluctant watched his antics with a wary air.

  “A pack must be strong,” he told them. “Every wolf is a link in that chain. For years, that chain grew and grew, forged by those tough enough to survive.

  “We’ve gotten weak. The bonds in this pack are brittle and ready to shatter. It’s not just us. I’ve seen it everywhere in my time outside these lands. My brother, like those cowards in Wolfden and Bearden, was more than willing to accept human intervention. None of them had the conviction to do what was necessary for our survival. The world might know about us, but they’ve yet to learn not to fuck with us.”

  Howls punctuated the call for violence. From Rasmus’s wolves… and from a handful of the Blackthorne pack.

  Rasmus stopped directly in front of Abel. His mouth took on a cruel tilt as he signaled to someone over his shoulder. “Tonight, we rid ourselves of the first of those weaknesses.”

  He braced himself for the knife or claws or whatever would pierce his skin. A silent prayer was offered to the sky that his mother had been able to keep Dakota safe, that his mate would go on to live a long and happy life. He offered his soul to whatever fiery hell existed to see that Rasmus didn’t know a single second of peace after his final breath left his lungs.

  No pain sliced through his middle. No threats breathed in his ear.

  Rasmus grinned and stepped aside.

  Dakota.

  No.

  Abel ran a look over her as a scarred wolf prodded her forward. She walked easily, even if she still favored her ankle. No torn clothes. His eyes narrowed at her swollen lip, but any blood drawn had been washed away.

  Dakota was there. Unarmed, without a wolf under her skin, without him to protect her with the silver locking down his animal.

  “Don’t you fucking touch my mate,” he snarled.

  Rasmus toyed with her braid and leaned in to give her a sniff. She jerked away, hatred and disgust burning in her eyes. “Doesn’t smell like she’s been mated. Doesn’t smell like wolf, either.”

  In a flash, he pinned her arms to her sides and yanked at the collar of her shirt. Dakota struggled in his grasp, but there was no freeing herself.

  Abel roared. He shot to his feet and made it three steps before the enforcers surrounded him. Fingers dug into his skin; claws drew blood. They pushed and pulled to hold him steady until that fucking chain clinked and tightened, denying him his breath.

  “Not so fast,” Rasmus warned. He stroked a finger down Dakota’s jaw. “Such a fragile little neck. So easy to snap.”

  Dakota breathed hard, but stopped fighting.

  His fault. His fucking fault she was there, in pack territory, in Rasmus’s grasp. He’d brought her home because he couldn’t wait to throw down a challenge at his uncle’s feet. His impatience put her in danger.

  Grinning wickedly, Rasmus turned to the gathered pack. “This is what your prince,” he spat, “brought home. An unmated, human woman. How many of your daughters did he think himself too good for before bedding down this trash? He’d breed weakness into this pack.”

  “Abel is my mate,” Dakota called out.

  Abel stilled. Blinked. Shook his head to make sure he didn’t have anything clogging his ears.

  Those words… She said those words.

  Dark eyes met his, and his gorgeous, brave, powerful mate nodded slightly. Then she swung her attention over the rest of the pack.

  “Abel is my mate,” she said again, louder, “and weakness is caging children to control their parents!”

  Quiet blanketed the onlookers, Rasmus’s enforcers, his uncle.

  “I challenge you,” Abel ground out in that quiet. “For the rights of this pack, I challenge you for alpha.”

  Rasmus scoffed. “Bullshit. A bullshit trick from someone unworthy of the Blackthorne name.”

  Others shifted from foot to foot, murmuring their disapproval. Abel latched on to those voices, meeting their eyes with a steely look.

  “You heard her,” he nodded at Dakota, doing his best to offer her reassurance with his glance. “She is my mate. Not yet marked, but don’t doubt I’ll solve that as soon as possible.”

  A few choked chuckles were quickly silenced with growls from the enforcers.

  “I don’t need to listen to this,” Rasmus dismissed him with a sneer. “Our traditions are clear. Challenges only need to be met at the full moon. If you’re so determined to see out your embarrassment, you can be my… guest until then.”

  “Why? Too scared to face me now? Planning on boosting your odds by starving me for a month?” He clicked his tongue and waved a hand down his bruised front. “Not such a tough old wolf, are you?”

  The taunts landed exactly where he wanted. Rasmus whipped around with a snarl peeling back his lips. More in the crowd perked up with murmured objections.

  “A challenge must be accepted.”

  “You know as well as I do it’s not yet a full moon!”

  “A fight is a fight.”

  “It’s true my father faced most of his challenges during our full moon celebrations, but he never once outright refused a fight.” Abel shrugged. “Only someone unsure of the outcome would need to wait.”

  Rasmus flicked a look to the crowd, but there was no winning them over. Too many had already voiced their opinion. Backing down, especially with the threat of needing him starved and sickly, would just make him look weak.

  A wolf like Rasmus couldn’t tolerate the threat to his ego.

  “I accept your challenge,” his uncle snarled.

  He shoved Dakota hard, sending her stumbling toward the murmuring pack. Abel spotted Harlan snap out his arms to catch her before she went down. The silver around his neck painfully tore away and he found himself pitching forward from a hard push in the center of his back.

  In that split second, his wolf roared to the surface.

  Fur sprouted along his arms and legs. Muscles ripped and reshaped to the bones that popped and cracked. Abel flung himself to the back of his mind and let his wolf rip out of him with a snarl.

  He was just a second too slow. The last tatters of his sweats fluttered to the ground even as Rasmus jumped right for him.

  Abel spun into the attack, narrowly avoiding the sharp fangs and closing jaws aiming to snap a leg. Pain bolted through him from the injuries he’d taken in his human form, but the wolf refused to give them any mind.

  Rasmus threatened Dakota.

  Rasmus needed to die.

  He snarled his death-promise before leaping forward in a flurry of bites. Shoulders, legs, even the fucker’s tail, he went after everything he could reach.

  His uncle held strong. Years of running with his ruthless, savage beasts honed him into a violent killer. Where Abel snapped, he reared back. Any stumble, he immediately pressed his advantage
.

  They crashed together again and again, the fight carrying closer to the gathered pack. Too close, and sharp kicks drove Abel away. He snapped at those legs and feet, drawing blood and a yelp.

  No interfering. No shifting from the witnesses. They fought until one of them quit or died.

  Abel refused to quit. Death was not an option when he had a mate ready for him to claim. Rasmus? His uncle didn’t have a future beyond burning on the bonfire he so helpfully erected before his little show.

  He twisted around with another snap, catching Rasmus’s ear. Blood streaked down his face and he flung droplets everywhere when he gave a hard shake of his head.

  The moment was all Abel needed to press in close, then shove again. Fangs, claws, slamming his sore body into his uncle’s, he fought hard to find his opening and Rasmus’s ending.

  The fucker—bastard, asshole, every last curse imaginable roared to the front of his mind—spun around and hauled ass for Dakota.

  Abel bunched his legs under him and arced through the air, hitting his uncle in the side before he made it to where Harlan hauled Dakota away from the fight. She kicked and struggled, snarled as much as any wolf, but any trying to get to her had to go through him.

  Rasmus landed on his side and skidded, but Abel was on him in a second. His jaws closed around the killer’s throat, blood coating his tongue. With a savage shake of his head, Rasmus’s short, terrible reign came to an end.

  Panting, Abel lifted his head and snarled at the wolves his uncle brought into his pack. His animal wanted them gone. Banished. They had no place with the rest of the Blackthornes.

  If that meant more blood running down his throat, so be it.

  A hand brushed down his back, then tightened in his fur. “It’s done.”

  Dakota’s whisper cut through the fire still raging inside him. A blink, and he dropped his attention from Rasmus’s wolves. Another, and his wolf stepped aside and let his shape break apart.

  His mate was there. His mate needed him.

  Abel threw his arms around Dakota’s middle in a back-cracking hug. Her scent rolled over him, through him, washed out the stench of blood and replaced it with everything right in the world.

  Fur brushed against his mind as his wolf surged forward.

  Mate.

  “You’re safe,” he said, a jagged sigh bursting past his lips.

  “You won,” she murmured, hands cupping his cheeks and running through his hair.

  Her. He won her.

  Abel pushed to his feet. Dakota passed a look over the pack, seeing every face and every flinch. She didn’t know their names, where they worked or lived, but she still saw them.

  Dakota stepped back, but he grabbed her hand and kept her at his side where she belonged as his equal.

  “Anyone who disapproves of my mate is welcome to leave this pack. Be gone by dawn or find yourself a fate like this.” He nodded at his uncle’s body.

  Still holding Dakota’s hand tightly, he turned and marched for the pack house.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dakota jerked upright as soon as she heard the doorknob twist. Her heart thumped in her chest, answering the call of the howls outside. Inside, though, was silent. Had been silent for over an hour.

  After her day, staying on edge was expected.

  Abel trudged through, and she let loose a sigh. He leaned against the door as soon as it clicked shut behind him. Weariness clung to him like a second skin and dulled his eyes when he cracked them open to meet her look.

  He’d stashed her there not long after they’d left the aftermath of the challenge fight behind. One quick crushing hug was all they had before their halves of the story tumbled out. How Harlan turned him over to Rasmus, how his mother had defended her and ultimately fell. A savage snarl rattled out of him when she described the children locked away in the basement—a cell he said was reserved for any in the pack needing time to get their wolf under control.

  Freeing everyone Rasmus placed under lock and silver rightfully became his top priority. She hadn’t objected when he said he didn’t want her anywhere near any wolf that might prefer Rasmus over him, and with his blood still up from the fight, he’d rip out throats and ask questions later if anyone looked at her wrong.

  And now he was back.

  “Is it done?” she asked.

  He shoved a hand into his hair. “As much as can be managed. The pups have been reunited with their parents. Some mates were being held, too, in another location. It’s… Shit was bad, Dakota. At least the adults knew how awful others can be, not that it makes their treatment any better. The pups didn’t need a crash course in terrible bastards.”

  She thought back to the children that stayed crouched in the corner while the others had their brief moment of normal play, and her heart broke. He was right. She didn’t have any particular age in mind for someone to understand the cruelties others could inflict, but she doubted she was the only person in the world to wish that knowledge to come somewhere in the late as possible range. “But they’re safe now.”

  “They’re safe. They’ll need time to believe it, but they’re safe.” He pushed off the door and made his way into the large bathroom. “The last of Rasmus’s wolves have fled. A handful—elders, mostly—are planning to leave as soon as they finish packing.”

  “Because of me?” She followed him into the bathroom. Twin sinks and a giant mirror commanded one wall. In the reflection, she saw him swing open the glass door of the shower and twist the knobs to start the water.

  “Because they can’t accept that the world keeps on spinning despite their best efforts.” He stripped out of his shirt and fixed her with a steady look. “You will not feel any sort of responsibility for them, understand?”

  She leaned against the doorframe and folded her arms under her breasts. “Already giving orders? Is this what being alpha is all about?”

  “Figured I should get some practice in.” A tiny smile hitched one corner of his mouth. “How’d I do?”

  “Points for trying, I suppose.”

  His smile widened and he ducked his face while shucking off his jeans. “Really, that’s on me for expecting at least a little appreciation after winning a challenge fight.”

  “As long as we’re in agreement.” She unfolded from the door, hands going to the hem of her shirt. The heated look clearing away the dull weariness in his eyes made her heart pick up its pace. “You’re absolutely ridiculous for imagining you have any control in this relationship.”

  “That was clear the moment you threatened to knock me around with a giant stick.” He turned to test the water, then slipped inside.

  Dakota slipped out of her jeans and followed him into the shower.

  He flinched slightly when her fingers connected with his lower back. She trailed them higher, noting the pink scratches that had to have been deeper wounds hours before. The quick healing amazed her. “How are you after… everything?”

  He was quiet and still under the water. “I knew stepping into my father’s shoes wouldn’t be easy. He taught me what he knew and gave me the tools to become my own man, but there was always that doubt, you know? That little whisper that I wouldn’t be able to live up to his legacy.

  “Tonight proved that I can’t. His legacy was his own. I have to make my own way. This is my pack. Not his. Not Rasmus’s. Mine. And there is nothing I won’t do to keep them safe.”

  He crushed her to his chest in a tight hug. The move made it very clear where she fit into that statement. She was part of his pack, and if he needed to kick others out for not accepting her, they could join the fuckers Rasmus brought with him.

  Abel fit his chin to the top of her head. Wide, warm hands smoothed up and down her back. They stood under the stream for long, silent minutes. The water lapped over their shoulders, at their feet, and left them simply enjoying the feel of each other.

  He’d fought. They’d survived. The work was far from over, but the hard, first steps to setting the pack to rights we
re done.

  “Relationship, huh?”

  Dakota smiled into the rumble under her cheek and turned her face upward to meet the bright green eyes of the man who’d so suddenly changed the course of her life. She didn’t need to let her father’s devastation direct how she lived. He’d lived, loved, and lost, and handled it in a messy, destructive way. His mistakes weren’t hers. Where she placed her trust was entirely her own decision.

  Trusting her gut, as Adella said. She trusted Abel with her head and her heart. She could lean on him when she needed help. They worked together. They found time to joke even with the serious shit they faced. Together, they could build a life that fit them. That was all that mattered.

  Abel ran his thumbs over her cheeks and leaned down. Gentle, slow caresses of his lips over hers turned the temperature steadily higher. Harder. He sucked her lower lip between his teeth, then swooped in when she gasped. Stroking, licking, he claimed her mouth as his own.

  His hands ran down her sides and grabbed her waist, hauling her close. She didn’t need much encouragement to wrap her legs around his hips when he lifted her and pressed her to the slick tile.

  Abel broke the kiss and nuzzled his way to the crook of her neck. “Did you mean it? What you said about choosing this? Choosing me?”

  Words caught in the back of her throat as he rocked his considerable length against her. So close, just a slight adjustment, and he’d slip inside. Need coursed through her. For him. His touch.

  His bite.

  “Yes!” she gasped.

  He growled low in his throat. One hand shot out to smack the knob and cut the shower. By some miracle, the glass door didn’t shatter when he shoved it open.

  He didn’t bother with a towel. She didn’t even notice the chill while enveloped in his arms.

  The bed, that she noticed. The soft pressure under her back, the pillows and blankets that smelled like him. The sense that this, in his arms, in his bed, was exactly where she belonged.

  He’d fought to be there. She wanted to see the journey to the end.