Alpha Call (7 page)

Wendy followed Jack’s scent, nose to the ground as she ran.
Motherfucker. She’d found the truck, following the road from the mountain for
hours.

She’d been sore, limping, when she came onto the Ford, but
all it took was a whiff of Steph’s scent—newly wolfen, scared, with the coppery
hint of blood, for her energy to surge to the fore.

Bastard.

She was going to rip his throat out.

Wendy was so damn mad, but that was good. It overtook the
fear, made it possible for her to keep going. He was in human form still, which
scared her.

Stephanie could take any human when she was in wolf form,
right? So, how could Jack have taken her? Christ, what had he done to her?

Wendy put on speed, her head down, paws slamming into the
dirt. She had to keep Jack from hurting Steph. Had to. That would redeem her
for putting up with his shit all that time. The smell got stronger as she ate
up the distance between them.

Where the hell was he going? She didn’t know the town as
well as she could yet, didn’t know all the far-flung places.

She slowed as the trees began to thin. If he was in human
form, he’d have a weapon. This could be a fucking ambush. The pads of her feet
felt raw, as if she’d cut them.

Staying close to the trunk of a tree, she sniffed, head low.
Steph. Steph.

The sound of a deep growl had her ears twitching. Her
hackles rose, her back drawing up. She was panting, the fear starting to ride
her but she had to get to Steph.

She crept forward, at least until Stephanie yelped, the
sound pure pain and Wendy went barreling out, teeth bared.

The clearing was just big enough for the cage and Jack
wasn’t there but he had been two seconds ago. She could damn well smell him.

Steph barked, scared and hurting, paws battering at the
cage. She growled softly, trying to get Steph to hush. Soon, soon Steph could
get out. Jack first.

Sniffing the air, she backed toward the cage, ears
swiveling.
Where are you, you fuck?

The rustle of leaves was the only warning she got before
damn near two hundred pounds of furious muscle slammed into her, smashing her
into iron bars.

* * * * *

Brett was going to rip this guy’s head off.

He’d let his new mate distract him, wanting to be gentle
with her because she was upset. A tiny smile played about his lips. Okay and
because she was as hot as dropping water on a skillet.

This asshole was a threat to his whole pack and to his mate,
and it was time Brett took him down.

He followed Wendy’s scent, the whole thing as easy as if
she’d stamped those cartoon footprints on the earth. He’d feel her anywhere.
Anywhere on…

He stopped short, a wild, hurt, scared sound that wasn’t
Wendy ringing through the air. Jordan’s new mate.

Rage burned in his chest but he slowed after that, nose to
the ground, ears tilted forward to catch any sound. No booby traps.

The next sound he heard was her, his lady, snarling low, the
sound a clear, violent warning.

That was his girl Keep the bastard at bay just a few more
minutes. Jordan was coming from the other side.

He crept out of the tree line, just far enough to see, and
what he saw made him see red. His Wendy was bleeding, one foreleg drawn up as
she exchanged another flurry of bites, protecting the little caged one.

Jordan and Shaw would be proud, though. Their mate was
trying hard to get out of the cage, biting and crying and making a distraction
as well. Good girls. His pack.

Jordan burst through the trees to the north, Sam to the
west. Time to show the fucker what they were made of. There was no way he could
take all four of them. No way. The male didn’t go for any of them, though, he
went for Wendy in a foaming fury, teeth flashing as she was pushed up against
the cage.

Brett came in low, his jaws snapping against one back leg,
trying to hobble the big male as best he could. The bone didn’t snap, but he
could use the grip to yank the asshole away from his woman. Jordan went for the
throat while Sam took the belly. When the male spun, Wendy attacked, muzzle
burying itself in the fucker’s throat, right under Jordan.

The thing shrieked, a sound that Brett had never heard
before, but kept fighting. Foam flew from its muzzle. Sam went flying and
Jordan snapped a foreleg just as Wendy bashed into the cage again. Brett roared
his fury, letting go of the back end to flip the bastard end over end away from
the cage. He was the fucking alpha here. The kill was his and he was forcing
his right.

His packmates stood, giving him his space but Wendy tried
desperately to find her feet, screaming out as she tried to put weight on her
foreleg.

He snarled at her, letting her know to stop distracting him.
She’d done more than her share. Then he spun, squaring up before the bastard
could attack from behind.

The son of a bitch was crazy, hurting and bleeding and still
willing to face him. The wolf barked, claiming Wendy, as if he had the right.

Brett channeled his rage into pure energy but he didn’t let
it make him careless. He howled, claiming everything in the territory. His male
pack members answered immediately.

When Wendy’s voice answered, though, that was when he
attacked, defending his mate.

She was backing him as alpha. His stubborn girl. He could
take on any jacked-up jerk after that.

His teeth sank into bloody fur, closing with a click as his
jaw closed. His territory.

The smell of the wolf was foul, his nostrils stinging with
the acrid scent. He tore as hard as he could, muscles rending under his bite.
Brett held on, shaking his head back and forth, determined to end this.

He felt it when the wolf collapsed, when the last bit of
fight drained away.

The urge to howl his triumph rose in his chest, but Brett
had to make sure. He had to assure the male would go. He raised his head,
staring at his mate, barking for her to come to him, bad leg and all. They
would do this together. It was the way of the pack.

She snarled and snapped, limping over, teeth bared. The big
male stared at her as she got closer and Brett swore he could feel danger in
the air. The wounded wolf moved quickly—almost quickly enough to catch her, but
it was Brett who struck, finishing the fight with a single bite to the throat.

When it was done, he tipped his nose up in the air, howling
once more, this time to let his pack know the threat was over.

They were safe.

Wendy stared at him, swaying, blood pooling beneath her.

She was so brave, she broke his heart. He went to her,
licking her wounds, basically demanding she start healing.

Jordan had shifted, was working the cage open with trembling
fingers. “Steph? Steph, baby, come on out.”

He heard Stephanie whine but her mate would care for her.
Sam barked an all clear and he held Wendy up with one shoulder against her
body.

There was a truck, at the base of the trail. He’d get
everyone there, get everyone home. Safe.

There was a damn first-aid kit in there too. Everyone needed
to stop bleeding.

Jordan had Steph in his arms, carrying the wolf down. Sam
would stay, make sure everything was dealt with, the carcass removed. All Brett
had to do was get his girl to the truck.

Wendy started moving, heading down the trail, slow and
stubborn.

Shit, that would never do. If he got caught wandering naked
in the woods carrying an injured wolf there would be hell to pay but Brett
decided to chance it. His human form felt a little weaker than usual and he was
scraped up more than he thought he was, but he could still carry his girl.

He met Jordan’s eyes and his packmate snorted. “We’ll never
be able to explain this if the rangers show.”

“I know, man. Good thing we got a couple of those in the
pack, huh? They can cover for us.” Wendy felt surprisingly light in his arms,
his girl’s wolf almost delicate. So brave.

“Yeah. She okay?”

“She will be. Steph?” Every step felt slower and slower.

“She’s more scared than anything. Her first week of
moon-shifting is almost here and she gets this. Christ.”

He nodded, nuzzling Wendy’s ears for a moment as the truck
came into view. There. Yes. He could bandage up that leg.

“Can you drive, Jordan?” He climbed into the back with Wendy
as Jordan nodded.

“Yeah. His keys are still in the ignition. I’ll get this
back and then…”

Brett shrugged. “Give the keys to Nathan. He’ll deal with
it.”

He had other things to worry about.

“Yeah. Okay.”

Brett gave Jordan a soft pat on the shoulder. “Good man.”
Then he got the damn first-aid kit out.

They started rumbling down the trail, Wendy whimpering with
every bump.

“Shh. I got you, baby. It’s okay.” He rolled out bandages
and got the antibiotics.

Her foreleg was broken. Thankfully they healed at an amazing
rate, but she’d need a couple of weeks to let it mend.

She growled at him as his hand moved toward the wound.
Touchy, touchy.

“I have to, baby. Don’t make me get all alpha on your ass.”

Her teeth bared, but she was watching him, tail twitching.
Her ears swiveled but she lay still when he took her foreleg and turned it so
he could see the worst of it. Brett talked to her, voice low. “My brave girl.
You were so good.”

He kept vocalizing, letting the sounds pour over her,
knowing that they meant home and safety and comfort. She responded beautifully,
panting and telling him that she wouldn’t let another attack their own, their
pack.

“I know, baby. I know.”

He could hear Jordan in the front telling Steph much the
same stuff, except he was saying how happy Shaw would be to see them. His pack.
The threat was neutralized.

They got to the main house, the others riled and restless,
as though an anthill had been stirred up. He rolled his eyes and slipped out of
the truck, someone already there with blankets and whiskey.

“Come on, baby. Let’s get you fixed up.”

Shaw was right next to the truck in no time, whining,
licking Jordan and Steph. Good deal. Brett took Wendy inside, up to his
bathroom upstairs.

He knew his pack needed reassurance, but Wendy needed him.
Now. His attention, his care, and he needed to give it to her. Then he would
gather the pack and let them all know the threat was neutralized. Sam was a
good second. He’d take care of things until Brett was sure Wendy was all right.

He eased her down in the tub before gathering bandages and
all.

She was all naked skin when he got back to her, her arm
cradled against his chest. She was pale as milk, but right there. “Figured it’d
be easier to set this way.”

“Easier to see, for sure.” She was healing faster than he’d
worried she would, slower than he’d liked.

“Yeah. Just do it.” She held her arm out, just the toughest
broad he’d ever known.

Nodding, Brett doctored the wounds, butterflying the worst
of the cuts and bandaging; the rest, he just cleaned. No sense in her getting
anything from the rotten bastard. Then he grabbed her wrist and pulled once,
the bones settling into place.

She never even cried out, just bit her bottom lip. The fine
tremors she couldn’t hide, though. He made it as fast as he could while being
thorough.

God help him, she was amazing.

When it was done, he pulled her to him and lifted her
against his chest, carrying her to the bedroom. He wrapped her in blankets
before snuggling up.

She didn’t cry, she didn’t fuss, she just stared at him,
watching him with those big eyes.

“He’s gone, baby. We did it.”

“You found us, just in time.”

“I did.” God knew, he didn’t want to think about what would
have happened had they been even seconds later. “I’ll always find you, baby.”

“I won’t let anyone attack here.” She stared at him. “He was
going to kill her.”

He reached up, sliding his fingers along her cheek. “You
saved her.”

“She’s my best friend.” Her eyelids drooped. “You’re okay?
He didn’t hurt you?”

“Nothing that won’t heal on its own. Sleep, love. Mongo is
here. He’ll watch over you.”

“Want you.” Wendy’s eyes closed and he kissed her forehead.

As if anything could get him to leave her now.

Ever.

Well, metaphorically. She was sound asleep in seconds and he
needed to see to the pack. But he would never let her go, for sure.

Brett felt the full moon coming like a heavy weight pressed
the back of his neck. He had a lot on his plate this month and it was hard to
balance that with his need to be with Wendy while she was hurt.

He’d decided to make a compromise. Instead of running with
the pack tonight, he was having most of them come to him, hopefully not all at
once, and meet his girl. That way Jordan and Shaw could stick pretty close with
Stephanie and Sam and Mitch could deal with the new guy and Brett wouldn’t be
snappy and anxious to get back home.

His lady groaned softly, head-butting him as she moved into
his arms, pushing into him on the big sofa in the great room. “Mate. The moon.”

She lifted her head, tongue laving his throat, his jaw, his
ear. She was marking him, adoring him, claiming him before the pack came, and
the instinctive act made him rumble, so happy.

“Mmmhmm. The pack will come soon.”

She nodded. “You’ll go?”

“No. I’m staying here.” He dropped a kiss on her lips.
“They’ll come pay their respects.”

“I can’t fight tonight. I’m tired.”

“There will be no challenges, no fighting. We’ll rest
together.”

There were steps on the porch, the front door opening.
“Boss? Brett?”

Sam.

He turned, facing his lieutenant. “What’s up, man?”

“Boss.” Sam nodded to Wendy. “Hey. Pleased to meet you. I
got the human. Mitch and Kayla and me are heading north. He’s wigged and…fuzzy,
a little. I figure it’ll be easier to keep him apart, with Jordan’s girl having
her first moon too.”

“Yeah. We’ll keep them closer to home.”

“How are you feeling?” Sam dipped his head, giving Wendy her
due.

“Sore.”

“You were awesome.” Sam grinned, bright and admiring, and
Brett growled a little. Just a tiny bit.

Wendy nuzzled him, distracting him. “Hush. No growling at
your bodyguard.”

“Second. Not bodyguard.” Brett chuffed, then winked at Sam.
“Tell Mitch to be careful, huh?”

“We will.” Mitch’s head popped up. “Going to let him chase
Kayla.”

It was Sam who growled this time. “He’ll have to learn.”

“Learn what?” Wendy asked, a slow grin spreading across her
face.

Sam looked at her, eyes glowing. “That Kayla and Mitch are
mine.”

Brett stared and Mitch…well, little Mitch squeaked. Huh.
Seriously, he was losing control of these hooligans. He needed to get things
back under control, maybe. He’d start next week. His lady chuffed softly.

“Go get ‘em, stud.”

Oh, now. She shouldn’t be calling Sam stud. He wanted to pop
her butt, but in deference to her injuries, he just patted her heinie. She
hummed and leaned against him.

“If you’re going to head out, Sam, go now. The moon is
coming.” She was a natural, so sure, such an alpha bitch.

“Gotcha. See you after the moon, guys.” Sam wheeled Mitch
around and marched him out.

“I haven’t seen your wolf in hours.” Wendy started stripping
him down with her good hand.

He chuckled. “You want me naked, huh?”

“I want you. Period.” She nuzzled his shoulder. “I want to
see you in your true form when I’m not chasing someone.”

“Oh, I want that too, baby.” He so did. He kissed the top of
her head. “Soon.”

“Soon.” Wendy was beginning to pant softly, legs sliding
against his as she shifted from side to side.

He helped her get her robe off, sliding her underwear down
her legs. Time to head outside. He’d made a pallet of soft cushions on the
porch, somewhere for a wounded wolf to rest, to bask in the light of the moon
and smell the wind as it slid down the mountains.

She headed outside, the fading sun turning her gold, and he
wanted to get on his knees, worship her. God, she was stunning, tanned and
lovely, curvy and strong and his. He kissed her again, this time on the mouth.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, her tongue sliding on his and tasting him. By
the moon, she was so responsive, so perfect.

And all his.

He rolled over, covering her, so careful not to hurt,
spreading his scent over her skin. She needed to smell like him and he needed
the rest of the pack to recognize it.

She lifted her chin, letting him have her throat, her belly,
letting him nuzzle and lick, touch.

It was as though the perfect fantasy had come to life. He
growled and nuzzled in, his teeth feeling sharp, his tongue too long. The moon
was here, fat and full and perfect, and his mate’s scent surrounded him in a
cloud and…

They curled together on the big bench, and he worried at her
poor forepaw, licking and nibbling at it for her as she cleaned his ears. She
had the most beautiful tail. It was a gray-and-white plume.

His family was coming, his pack huge, healthy, successful
enough that he could barely contain his pride. The wolves with the new shifters
weren’t there, of course. They all had to protect the puppies, the elders, from
inexperience and fear.

A moon shift was different. Wilder. Intense.

His lady held her tail up, sitting with her head held high
so that the others could greet her, lick her chin and bow.

One of the males came up from the side, towering over her,
and her ears snapped forward, teeth bared immediately.

The big male ducked his head, giving Wendy her due. Yes. His
girl was a natural.

Even the puppies came, tumbling over one another to meet
their new alpha, to get a lick and a nuzzle. The females vocalized softly,
welcoming her, and then Sarah, the eldest of them, so old she’d left her human
form behind, came slowly, carefully to them. Wendy chuffed softly and their
muzzles slid together, his lady painfully gentle, respectful.

Sarah’s gray head dipped and that was that. Everyone
accepted her because she was his and he was theirs. The moon rose in the sky,
breaking above the tree line, and he sat up, tipping his head back to howl.

One voice after another joined his, the song swelling,
ringing against the trees and climbing up the mountain. Wendy’s body vibrated
with the power of her call and Brett thought he could hear the magic in the new
wolves’ songs too, even though they weren’t close enough for his ears to catch.

When the call ended, the pack started to disperse, one by
one, taking off for their full moon hunt. His girl would have to wait for that,
but they’d hunted hard enough after Jack. She deserved rest.

She settled, chin on her paws, the moon reflected in her
eyes.

Brett nuzzled her ear before settling, watching the trees,
vigilant, but not worried. He’d hear it if his pack needed him. Otherwise, he
was perfectly content to spend this night with his lady. He knew it would be
the first of many.

He couldn’t wait for more.