by Quinn Loftis
Alpha Rising
The Grey Wolves Series, Book 12
Quinn Loftis
Copyright © 2020 by Quinn Loftis
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Quinn Loftis Books, LLC
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Benton, AR 72018
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Cover Are Design: KKeeton Designs
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Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
From the Author
About the Author
Quinn’s Bookshelf
Prologue
“With every minute that passes, this life grows larger inside of me. I can’t help but wonder what kind of world the child will be born into. Will there be any good left at all? Will there be any security or peace?” ~ Bethany
Peri groaned. “Looks like we lost the element of surprise,” she said as she stared across the field where the army of their enemy stood waiting for them. It was as if the Order had this battle penciled in on their calendar and had decided to show up a few minutes early.
An hour ago, Peri had been at Jezebel’s shop promising she would get Z’s sister out of Volcan’s clutches, yet she couldn’t even manage to arrange a surprise battle on an enemy who should not have known they were coming. She was beginning to think maybe it was time to practice keeping her mouth shut about promises she might not be able to fulfill.
Now, here she was standing on the balls of her feet, magic pulsing through her body, preparing to fight for her life while at the same time praying to the Great Luna that her mate and the others were able to make it out of the In Between so the draheim realm could be breached. Yep, she was pretty sure making promises while being stretched so thin was one of her dumbest ideas. Which wasn’t so horrible when she considered the fact that she rarely had dumb ideas. But she digressed. The important matter at hand was the fact that the enemy they were supposed to have been surprising had been expecting them. There was no time for them to get the lay of the land. No time to do anything other than realize they’d been betrayed and kick some Order ass.
As she stared into the eyes of her enemy standing so boldly across from her, she decided that the battle with Volcan was going to look like a walk in the park compared to what the Order had in store for them. Because Peri knew this battle would not end on this battlefield. It was just the beginning.
“Stealing the pups is a bad idea,” Skender warned the high fae as they entered the back side of the mountain that housed the pack’s stronghold. It hadn’t been hard for Alston to break Skender out of the Romanian mansion once the vast majority of the pack had evacuated. The two guards had been disposed of, and that had been all Alston had needed to do. Then he’d simply flashed them to the werewolf stronghold, the location of which was known only to a few of the wolves. Skender happened to be one of them. Vasile was sure to be annoyed with himself when he remembered that little tidbit.
“It’s a brilliant idea,” Alston practically sang. “They will be completely at our mercy if we have their little mangy pups in our clutches. We will finally be able to control the great and mighty Vasile.”
Skender forced himself not to point out that it was also going to enrage the alpha to a level never before seen. Vasile was dangerous under the best of circumstances. Messing with his grandson was going to make him downright lethal. But Skender was just a foot soldier. He either did what he was told or Alston would have no use for him. As much as Skender believed in what the Order stood for, he didn’t like the idea of dragging babies and children into it.
“This way,” he muttered, following a scent that was fresh, easily identifiable as that of a young child. He got a whiff of his old packmate, Costin, as well. “We aren’t going to hurt them,” Skender finally said after several minutes of silence as they walked. “There has to be a line somewhere, and that’s where I draw mine. I won’t hurt children. I don’t care what the vamps are okay with. I’m not okay with it.”
“I’m not a fool,” Alston spat. “The wolves must be willing to cooperate. The mere threat of violence against the children will be enough to ensure compliance. Actually hurting them … well, even I’m not sure how the Romanian pack would respond to that. Let’s just get the brats and go. We need to be on the battlefield soon.”
After several twists and turns down a winding stone corridor, Skender stopped outside of a large door. He took a deep breath and then nodded. “They’re in there, with”—he took another deep breath and said—“two fae warriors and two female wolves.”
“They really weren’t expecting any trouble if that is the only guard they set,” the high fae said with a wicked chuckle. “This is going to be too easy.”
Alston held up his hand and spoke in the language of the fae. The door began to shake, and Skender stepped to the side just as it ripped away from the opening. It fell with a clatter, and Alston cast another spell. The two fae warriors, as well as the she-wolves, were frozen in a matter of seconds. Both fae warriors had gone for their blades, but Alston’s spell caught them before either could get their swords drawn. The she-wolves were immobilized mid-crouch as they had begun reaching for the two babies on the floor, who were now looking around with wide eyes. The oldest of the three children, the one that smelled like Costin, moved closer to the two younger kids and attempted to shield them, though his small form was ill-suited to the task. Skender could tell the boy was a dormant wolf and would one day be a very strong opponent.
“Settle, little wolf,” Skender said to him. “We do not wish to harm you or the other little pups. You need to come with us.”
The boy looked up at him, and his eyes narrowed slightly. “The angel told me I would need to be brave soon. She said that I would have to help Slate and Thia be brave. I might be afraid, but I am brave. I won’t let you hurt them.”
“A touching speech,” Alston said as he tucked a piece of paper into the pocket of one of the fae warriors. “Make sure Decebel’s bitch mate gets that,” he said to the fae who couldn’t move but no doubt heard the high fae just fine. Then Alston continued to the boy, as he moved toward the children, “But it’s altogether ridiculous considering you couldn't stop us
if we did want to hurt all of you. Regardless, we must go. Skender, get the two males, and I’ll grab the female.”
Alston ignored the growling little boy as he picked up Thia, Jen’s child. He held her close to his body, which surprised Skender. He didn’t figure Alston would be gentle, but then maybe he really did understand, at least a little, that if he harmed any of the wolf pups, he wouldn’t simply be killed. Vasile would skin him alive, repeatedly, for as long as they felt like keeping him around. That’s the curse that comes with healing quickly. It can be used against you.
Skender picked up Slate, the child of Jacque and Fane, and cradled him in one arm, then picked up the older boy. “What’s your name?”
“Titus,” the boy answered. “And you are the Betrayer,” he said in an almost sad voice. “The angel said we always have a choice in life, even if it doesn’t feel like it. You had a choice, but you chose wrong.”
Skender didn’t like Titus’s words. They made him feel sick inside. So, instead of responding, he ignored the boy. The werewolf walked over to Alston and let the high fae put his hand on his shoulder. They flashed them from the wolf stronghold. It wouldn’t take long for Alston’s spell to wear off, and then the fae he’d bound would sound the alarm in the Keep. Things were going to get interesting once Jen and the others found out their pups were missing.
Chapter 1
“People who tell you that things ‘could be worse’ should be kicked in the junk. I don’t care what kind of junk they have, it should be kicked. What is the point of telling someone things ‘could be worse’? Does it really make the current situation any better? Hell to the no. So take your ‘could be worse’ and shove it down your ‘never had to save the world’ throat.” ~ Perizada
There was a pause as the two factions stared at one another. The calm before the storm while they sized each other up. Decebel could feel his wolf shaking with rage inside of him as he stared at those responsible for the countless deaths of innocent people, human and supernatural alike.
Decebel didn’t hesitate as Vasile roared, “ATTACK!”
They’d been on the battlefield maybe a half a minute, and now they were running full speed at the enemy who wasn’t supposed to be waiting on them. They had a traitor. Another pack mate willing to throw their own family away for a cause that would destroy the world as they knew it.
Decebel noticed dark storm clouds beginning to form overhead and realized the elemental sprites were doing their thing. There was a huge boom of thunder, and then right on the heels, flashes of lightning hit the ground where their enemy stood. The earth beneath his feet shook, and Decebel jumped to keep from being thrown off balance. When he landed, he pulled on the power of his wolf to give him the sure footing of his beast.
A couple of vampires went up in flames thanks to the lightning. Now that was cool. The next flash of lightning seemed to be even brighter than the first. The luminous sprites were adding their own magic to the mix. The Order’s army seemed momentarily blinded, and for that brief second their guard was down. It made taking out the first couple of vamps a little easier.
Decebel slashed his sword through the air as he reached his first foe. His wolf preferred to fight in his fur, but Decebel liked wielding a blade as much as he did his claws. The vampire hissed like an angry cat and dodged the blade, but Decebel was older and much faster than the young vamp. He whipped around, his weapon following effortlessly and managed to catch the vampire right at the neck, removing the head in one clean sweep. One down. Only a couple hundred more to go.
The next warrior he faced was a fae. The supernatural moved with a grace matched only by the elves. In one hand he held a short sword, and in the other, a ball of light was forming. The fae moved forward and lunged with the sword. Decebel ducked under the strike and pivoted around. He instinctively raised the blade he held in front of him and felt the fae’s magic hit it. The sword seemed to absorb the spell, warming slightly in Decebel’s hand.
The fae’s face hardened as he realized that Decebel’s blade wasn’t just a mundane weapon. “Our brethren disgrace us by letting you mutts wield our weapons,” the fae spat at him.
Decebel’s wolf growled. He hated when an enemy tried to have a conversation while they were fighting. The wolf didn’t want to throw insults. He wanted flesh, bone, and blood clutched in his jaws. Without responding, Decebel leapt forward, but at the last minute, he knelt down, sweeping his blade at the fae’s knees. He felt the resistance as the weapon made contact.
The fae stumbled forward, but he caught himself before he fell to the ground. Decebel didn’t give him time to recover. He jumped and slashed the sword down just as the fae raised the hand that was filling with light once again. The fae bellowed as his hand was severed at the wrist and dropped, hitting the ground unceremoniously.
Decebel wished he was in his wolf form so he could take down his foe by his neck and give it a good shake until it broke. But a blade across the throat and then a stab to the heart would have to suffice. When the warrior was on his back staring up lifelessly at the grey sky, Decebel’s wolf threw his head back and howled in victory. As if the sprites agreed with him, more thunder rolled and flashes of lightning joined their applause.
He didn’t take more than a few seconds to enjoy the kill before another enemy was in his face. This time it was two vamps. Decebel glanced around to see if he could make out any pack mates. He located Fane and Cypher about twenty feet away, but that was all the time he could take because one of the vamps had landed on his back.
The stench of old blood clung to the bloodsucker and made Decebel’s wolf want to sneeze to rid himself of the smell. He felt the bite of sharp fingernails digging into the flesh on his shoulders. Decebel dropped forward into a roll, effectively catching the vamp off guard. His hold loosened, and the wolf managed to get free. When he was back on his feet he reached out with his bare hand and wrapped it around the other vamp’s neck who’d gotten too close and gave his wrist a sharp twist. The vamp’s neck broke, and he collapsed to the ground as Decebel released him. Then Decebel brought his sword down and cut off his head.
The vampire who had jumped on Decebel’s back, hissed. He really hated the hissing. Before he could engage the creature again, Vale, the fae warrior who had joined their side, stepped in between them to cut off the vampire's head with the two short swords he held in each hand. Without so much as a “you’re welcome,” he kept moving, slicing through foe after foe. His moves were so smooth that he appeared to be dancing instead of fighting.
“That’s just not right,” Drake said, panting, as he stepped up next to Decebel. He was watching Vale with no doubt the same dumbstruck expression Decebel had. “When you fight, you should not look like you’re frolicking.”
Decebel couldn’t help chuckling. “Please let me be there when you tell him that he looks like a frolicking dancer when he fights.”
Just then Vale jabbed one sword into the ground and raised his free hand. Light shot from it, flying across the field. It hit a troll in the face, and the being turned to ash.
“On second thought, maybe you shouldn’t tell him that he frolics when he fights,” Decebel corrected.
“Agreed,” Drake said. “Watch out.” His words were spoken so calmly and matter-of-fact like that Decebel wouldn’t have thought two vampires and two trolls were closing in on them.
“Does going into battle always get you this excited?” he asked Drake.
“After going toe to toe with my enraged mate, this is child's play.” Drake grinned.
They both lunged forward at the same time, side by side, and plunged their swords into the impetuous vamps.
“Okay,” Decebel said through gritted teeth as he pulled his sword back and then sliced it across the vampire’s throat. “This is much easier than fighting with Jennifer. At least with this fight we get to kill something.”
“Exactly.” Drake beheaded the second vampire attacking him and then faced off with one of the two trolls as Decebel did the same wit
h the other.
Peri used her magic to propel herself forward, jumping as far into the battlefield as she could. The instant her feet hit the ground, she was surrounded by struggling fae, vampires, and even a warlock. She held up her hands, which glowed with power. Like an automatic weapon, she shot out pulse after pulse of her magic, hitting the vampires in the chest, disintegrating their hearts and then burning their bodies from the inside out. She saw the warlock’s eyes widen before he turned and ran the other direction. Peri would have laughed if three fae males hadn’t begun attacking her, making her focus once again on those who weren’t surprised by her display of power.
The fae circled Peri, attempting to get behind her. She’d be damned if she was going to let that happen. Instead of shooting for the obvious spot, center mass, Peri sent her power down to their feet. If she aimed for their chests, they would either block it with the fae blades they held or their own magic. But they wouldn’t expect her to knock them on their asses with her magic. Sure enough, once the white light hit their feet, they fell like three bags of rocks.
As soon as they were on the ground, Peri kicked the sword out of the hand of the closest male. Then she stomped her foot down on his chest and sent her power down through her leg. Yes, she could do that. When he was dead, she moved on to the next one. He attempted to jump to his feet, but Peri was there the second he was in the air. She grabbed the hand that held his blade, pulled it around behind him, and jammed it into his spine. Without a second thought, she let the male fall. Now, the third male was back on his feet, and he looked quite pissed. That was good. Intense emotion caused mistakes in battle.