Hell's Wolves MC: Complete Series Six Book Box Set

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Hell's Wolves MC: Complete Series Six Book Box Set Page 96

by J. L. Wilder


  When he spoke, he sounded sickened. “They just dumped the body and drove off,” he said quietly. “They didn’t even stop to say anything. They didn’t tell us to get out of town, or ask us to join with them, or...or anything. I don’t know if it was a threat of some kind, or if they’re trying to provoke us into acting rashly...”

  “The body?” she asked faintly.

  “It’s one of theirs,” he said. “One of the Grizzlies’ people. Fiona...this is going to change things.”

  She didn’t know what he meant. She didn’t have time to ask. Whatever it was had to be confronted, managed quickly, before the situation exploded.

  “Take our people inside,” she said. “Get everyone into one room and stay there.”

  She was afraid he might argue, but he nodded, touched her shoulder briefly, and then began to shepherd the rest of the Hell’s Wolves into the house.

  Fiona approached the bears slowly, not knowing what she would find or what their response to her presence would be. There was every chance they would be angry at her, if Percy was right, if they had really lost one of their people. After all, she was the one who had persuaded them to come here in the first place.

  “Owen,” she said quietly.

  He didn’t move. He stared at the ground at his feet.

  Fiona pushed past Nova to see what they were looking at.

  It was Joel—the youngest member of their pack, one of the two who had disappeared after finding out about Fiona and Owen. He had been slashed across the chest, but he had clearly been dead for some time.

  Fiona sucked in a breath.

  “Owen?” one of the bears said, sounding frightened.

  Owen didn’t respond.

  He can’t, she realized. He’s in shock.

  “In the garage,” she said. “There are sheets. We can wrap him up. Take a shovel, and we can bury him. Anywhere you like. We’ll set a marker. We can do a service, if you want. My people will help as much as you need. Talk to Wes. Tell him I said so.”

  She was sure her instructions wouldn’t be obeyed. But the bears looked relieved to be told what to do. They scattered, some heading for the garage, others for the house.

  “Owen,” she said, resting a hand on his forearm.

  He looked down at her, his face anguished.

  “Let’s talk,” she said, and steered him toward the woods.

  Chapter Fifteen

  OWEN

  It was impossible to think. All he could see was Joel’s broken body, pale with blood loss, his eyes vacant and staring. All he could think was I sent him away. It’s my fault he’s dead.

  He had assumed that Joel had made it back home ages ago. He had trusted Damon to see their junior member safely home. But the two of them must have gotten separated. Joel had run across the Feral Fangs.

  And they had killed him.

  Fiona had been right all along, he realized bleakly. The Fangs weren’t going to leave the Grizzlies alone just because they were bears and not wolves. There was no point in trying to stay out of the fight. He knew now that he would fight at her side, even if the rest of the pack abandoned them. The best way to protect everyone he loved would be to do everything he could to neutralize the Fangs.

  He would die fighting, if that was what it took.

  He barely noticed that she had led him to the fallen tree they had come to have sex a couple of times. Now she sat him down on the log and took a seat beside him, her hand finding his, her warm body pressed against his side.

  She said nothing, and neither did he.

  After some time had gone by, he realized that she was rubbing her hand up and down the length of his arm, as though trying to soothe him. A moment later, it occurred to him that he was shaking. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. The bear within him was trying to make itself known, he knew. Nothing would be more satisfying right now than to let his rage and pain well up and take over, to give in to his animal instincts of protectiveness and aggression, to hunt down the people who had hurt his pack and make them pay.

  “We have a plan,” Fiona said. She seemed to know what he was thinking. “We’re going to fight them. They’re going to answer for this. We have a plan. We can’t rush off half cocked and try to fight them. We’d lose. If we stick to the plan, we’ll have the best chance. We’ll have the advantage. You know that, don’t you?”

  He breathed hard, trying to bring himself under control, and nodded.

  She turned to him and kissed along his jaw. Her hands found the buttons of his shirt and ripped them free. There was desperation in her, and Owen realized he felt the very same thing. He wanted to feel anything but the pain and the guilt of Joel’s death. He needed an escape.

  They didn’t even manage to get all their clothes off. Owen’s shirt hung open and his pants had been pushed halfway down his thighs when he entered her, clutching her desperately to his chest, hitching his hips to bring her closer to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and suckled hard at his ear, pausing now and again to give him a few little nips.

  It wasn’t sweet and indulgent, the way sex between them had always been before. It wasn’t their usual game of trying to see which of them could dominate the other. It felt as if they’d been poisoned and this was the antidote, the only way to reclaim their sanity and their lives. They fucked desperately, needily, painfully.

  Owen let out a roar when he came that set the birds flying from the treetops. There was no need to be quiet anymore, no reason to keep what they were doing a secret. Everyone knew already. Everyone had already found out.

  He clung to Fiona, both of them shaking. He was afraid to put her down. When they stepped back from each other, the terrible things in the world would slip between them again. He would be forced to face the fact that he had lost a member of his family.

  Damon was right.

  I should never have been the alpha. Someone else would have done a better job. Someone else wouldn’t have lost Joel. If I hadn’t sent him away to protect myself, he would be alive right now.

  Fiona slipped out of his arms and began to gather her clothes. “Do you feel better?” she asked quietly.

  “No,” he growled. If anything, he felt worse. Before, the agony of knowing what he had done had been muted somewhat by the shock of it. Now he was awake to the pain. He could feel every ounce of his failure, and it made him want to die.

  “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I’m so sorry about Joel, Owen. He was a sweet kid.”

  “How could they do that to him?” Owen asked. “Just because he crossed their path? I know Joel wouldn’t have tried to start anything with them. He’s not an idiot.”

  Fiona ignored his use of the present tense, and Owen was grateful. He wasn’t ready to start talking about Joel like he wasn’t here anymore. “I think there’s more to it than that,” she said quietly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Did you see who was in the truck?

  “It was the Feral Fangs, wasn’t it?” It occurred to Owen that he had only assumed the truck belonged to the Fangs. But who else could it have been? Those had definitely been claw marks on Joel’s body. How many shifter packs could there be around here?”

  “It was the Fangs,” Fiona agreed. “You’re right about that.”

  “Then what are you talking about?” Owen asked.

  “Damon,” she said. “I saw Damon in the truck. In the passenger seat.”

  Owen felt his blood freeze.

  “What do you mean?” he asked. “They’re holding Damon as a prisoner? But why? If they’ve got him...if they want to use him against us...why wouldn’t they have made any demands? Why wouldn’t they even have stopped to let us know they had him? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I don’t think he’s a prisoner,” Fiona said softly. She rested a hand on his chest, and Owen had the strange feeling that she was preparing to hold him back. “I think he’s with them willingly.”

  It was as if all the breath had been punched out of Owen’s
lungs.

  “He couldn’t,” he managed. “He couldn’t go against orders like that. I told him to go home.”

  “Did you?” Fiona asked.

  Owen thought back. It was hard—painful—to remember that last conversation with Damon and Joel. His mind kept trying to cut him off, to force him to think about the fact that if he had handled things differently, Joel would be alive.

  But he needed to remember.

  He replayed the dialogue in his head.

  “I told them to go,” he breathed. “I told them to leave. But I never told them where to go. Not as a command. We talked about them going home, and I...I assumed...why would they have gone anywhere else?”

  “You said Damon found out about you and me.”

  “And now everyone knows,” Owen said. “I should have just confessed then. I shouldn’t have tried to keep it a secret. I shouldn’t have sent them away—”

  “Owen, listen to me,” Fiona said, and the urgency in her voice got his attention. “Damon’s never loved living under your rule. Isn’t that right? He’s always resisted your authority a little bit. I used to see it on him, when he was around here, the way he chafed sometimes when you gave an order.”

  “That’s true,” Owen said. “But what point are you making?”

  “If he saw an opportunity to get out from under you,” Fiona said, “don’t you think he might take it? Don’t you think he might be all too happy to let you believe he was going home, when instead he was moving against us?”

  “Damon wouldn’t betray us,” Owen whispered.

  “I saw him in the truck,” Fiona said. “I don’t know what was going on, but he didn’t look like he was there against his will. He looked like that was where he wanted to be. I think he probably went to the Feral Fangs the minute you sent him away. I think he’s joined up with them.”

  Owen wanted to protest, to tell Fiona that none of the Wild Grizzlies would ever commit such a treasonous act. But he believed what she was saying about seeing Damon in the truck. And what other explanation was there that made sense? Why would he have been with them, if he didn’t choose to be? Damon wasn’t a fool. If he had intended to make an escape, he would have run straight home. And even if he had wanted to leave the Grizzlies behind for good, he would have had the sense to flee the state, to move away from their scent.

  He should never have crossed paths with them. Not unless he wanted to.

  He betrayed us.

  Owen had to admit that if anyone was going to betray the pack, Damon would be the one to do it. Damon, who always thought he knew best, who made decisions without consulting anyone else. Flighty, impulsive Damon.

  But could he possibly still be on their side? After what they did to Joel?

  He could be. He must be. Why else would he have been in their truck?

  Fiona’s thoughts dovetailed his own. “Joel was a good kid,” she said. “I could tell that about him. I bet he went along to try to stop Damon, to convince him not to do what he was doing. I bet that was what got him killed, in the end. He was loyal to you.”

  “And he died for it,” Owen said softly.

  “He was killed for it,” Fiona said. “It isn’t your fault, Owen. It isn’t your fault that Damon led him to that place. It isn’t your fault that the Feral Fangs are so violent and brutal. All you did was try to keep everyone safe. If Damon had just gone home, the way he knew he was supposed to, everything would have been fine.”

  “If you and I hadn’t tried to have a secret affair, everything would have been fine,” he pointed out.

  She took his hand and brought it to rest on her stomach. “If you and I hadn’t been together, a lot of things wouldn’t have happened.”

  “You’re really pregnant?”

  “I really am.”

  “What are we going to do about that?” he asked. “How are we going to manage, when our packs can’t tolerate the thought of us together?”

  “If they had learned to be a little more tolerant,” Fiona said, “Joel and Damon wouldn’t have been able to threaten you with exposing our secret. They wouldn’t have had to leave. Nothing positive has come from the fact that our packs haven’t been able to work together and trust each other. Maybe it’s time we all started getting over some prejudices.”

  Owen nodded slowly. “I suppose we should try to keep our attention on the real enemy.”

  “The Feral Fangs are out there,” Fiona said. “They’ll be back for us. So in the meantime, we need to get ready. We need to make sure that whether we attack them first or they attack us, we’ve got what it takes to win the fight. And that starts with our packs finding a way to respect each other. Do you think we can do it?”

  “I think we’re going to have to,” Owen said. “Not just for the fight ahead, but for the sake of our child’s future.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  FIONA

  They walked out of the woods and back up to the house hand in hand. It felt strange—strange but good—to take Owen’s hand publicly and not to worry about who else might be watching. But of course, there was no reason to worry about secrecy anymore. The secret was out.

  And I have to believe that our packs understand that we have bigger problems than this now, Fiona thought as they climbed the stairs onto the porch. If we go into the house and the conversation is about my pregnancy, I don’t know how much hope of defeating the Feral Fangs we have.

  She took a deep breath and glanced at Owen before opening the door. His jaw was set. He was looking forward intensely, as if bracing for a fight.

  Please, let this not be a fight.

  Fiona opened the door.

  Everyone was in the kitchen.

  That floored her for a moment. The only times she had ever seen both packs assembled together like this were when she and Owen had compelled them to do so. But the alphas had been out in the woods for hours. They hadn’t given any orders.

  She looked at Percy.

  “Sit down, Fi,” he said. “I’ll fix you a plate. You too,” he added, looking at Owen.

  It was then that Fiona realized the kitchen was full of delicious aromas. “What is that?” she asked.

  “Tacos,” he said. “Carla and I cooked.”

  “We buried Joel on the southwest part of your land,” Angus said. “We put a stone there as a marker. There was some paint in the garage, and we used that to put his name on the stone. I hope that’s okay.”

  “That’s good,” Fiona assured them, taking a seat at the table. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for it.”

  Angus shook his head. “Nothing formal,” he said. “People have said their goodbyes quietly. Listen, Owen, Nova thinks she saw Damon in that truck.”

  Owen had taken a seat opposite Fiona. Now he looked up. “We think so too,” he said, and Fiona was relieved to hear some of the old strength restored to his voice. “We think he ran to them. Betrayed us to them. We think Joel was probably trying to stop him, and that’s why he was killed.”

  “I don’t understand how that’s possible,” Angus said.

  “He found out about me and Fiona,” Owen said. “He was threatening to tell everyone. And I should have let him do it. I shouldn’t have been so desperate to protect myself that I was willing to put them at risk. But I did believe that they would go straight home. I didn’t even feel it necessary to give an order, because I was so sure.” He shook his head. “I was a fool.”

  “You told them to leave so that they wouldn’t tell the rest of us what you were doing?” Percy chimed in.

  “We were going through hell trying to get any of you to work together as it was,” Fiona said. “If you’d found that out, it would have been enough reason for you to consider defying me and Owen completely. We didn’t need to be fighting each other when there was a real enemy out there. I think we always intended to tell you eventually—but not until the fight was over.”

  “What were you going to tell us?” Percy asked. “Were you going to tell us that you were leaving our pack for him
?”

  “No,” Fiona said. She was surprised at the very suggestion. “I was never going to do that. I would never have left the Hell’s Wolves, not for any reason.”

  “Then what?” Percy said. “You were going to keep him here with us? He would have left his pack?”

  “I don’t know,” Fiona said. She felt tired, suddenly. “Is this really what you want to talk about, Perce?”

  “I guess not,” he admitted. “I’m sorry, Fi. It’s been a big day. It feels like everything is different now...but I guess you’re feeling that more than any of us.”

  She nodded.

  “Look,” he said. “If you’re pregnant...well, the kid is family. He or she is one of us. We’re not going to turn our backs on family, no matter what. You get that, right?”

  Fiona’s eyes filled with tears. She hadn’t dared hope for such a declaration of loyalty. She looked to the other members of her pack and saw that they were all nodding along.

  And they weren’t the only ones. Grizzlies were nodding too. Angus placed a plate in front of her, and Fiona breathed in the aroma of warm tacos. For the first time since the bears had arrived on her land, she felt surrounded by family, by allies.

  “We can do this,” she said. “We can fight off the Feral Fangs together. They’re tough, but I think we’re tougher.”

  “Yes,” Owen said quietly. “We are.”

  “But we can’t do it unless we work together,” Fiona said. “We can’t do it unless we’re all on the same side. So we need to get on the same page. We need to talk about our situation. We’ve failed to do that so far, and I think that’s been at the heart of our problems. We’ve tried to make this work, but we’ve never actually had a conversation about it.”

  Owen nodded. “I agree.” He looked around the room at his pack. “You all know that I’d never compel anyone to fight if they didn’t want to,” he said. “But after what happened to Joel, I think we have to assume that the Feral Fangs aren’t going to leave us alone. They’re not going to wreak havoc for a few months and then go their own way. This was a warning.”

 

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