Authors: Jacqueline Rhoades
Tags: #romance, #wolves, #alpha, #romance paramornal, #wolvers, #pnr series, #wolves romance, #shifters werewolves
Ben was a bulldozer covered in fur. He
crushed anything in his path. Toby and Quentin worked behind him,
attacking anything he missed. They looked like they were enjoying
themselves. Skinny and quick, Scar darted in and out, fangs
flashing, claws tearing. Darla worked with him, her style
ham-fisted like her human self.
Roland was limping through the trees toward
the battle. His hind leg was deformed. River could see the
exhaustion in the old wolf's progress. He ran to the Alpha, nodded
his silent message, and took off at a full run in the direction Reb
had fled. He was no longer needed here and Reb would be the Alpha's
first concern.
Urgency gripped him now as it hadn't before.
Donavan was nowhere to be seen which meant he'd avoided the battle
to seek his prey. Reb's scent was strong and clear in his nostrils,
bitter with terror, but still clear and clean. Donavan smelled rank
with evil.
When he saw the wolver with the tawny colored
coat ahead of him, he knew immediately that he'd found his quarry.
River didn't stop or slow. There was no need for Challenge. There
was no honor here. He remembered hearing somewhere that anything
was fair in love and war. This was both.
The Alpha turned, snarling, and River plowed
into him with that thought in mind.
They tumbled over and over. River felt
Donavan's jaws snap, as he pulled his head away in time. They
sprang to their feet and met head on, tearing fur, but doing no
real damage. They grappled, sprang apart, and went at it again. The
next time they separated, Donavan rolled back his shoulders. The
power of his magic began to fill the space between them.
A white streak of silky fur sailed out of the
trees and hit the Alpha. He staggered, but didn't go down. Immense
with the power of his station, Donavan latched onto Reb's thick
ruff and tossed her aside. She smacked, back first against a nearby
tree. Her head snapped forward from the impact. It didn't come back
up.
Something broke loose inside River. The
tether that anchored the anger that had lived inside him for most
of his life broke free. Every hurt, every indignity, every beating,
and every death came boiling up with it. He blazed with it, felt
his body expand with it. Fiery red haze clouded his vision,
obscuring everything except the Alpha who'd hurt the Mate.
River roared out his rage and was on him
before the startled Alpha had time to blink. He tore at him,
ripping flesh and fur in a mindless frenzy of ferocity. He twisted,
dove, evaded, snapped, and clawed, heedless of any wounds he might
suffer. Donavan was older, larger, and wiser in the ways of war,
but he didn't have River's agility and speed, or his knowledge.
River had seen the tawny fight, knew his weakness, and knew age had
robbed Donavan of stamina.
And Donavan had no idea that it wasn't one
Alpha his opponent was fighting. It was every monster the younger
wolver had ever known. Donavan and all the others like him had
created River. While the Alpha didn't understand the reason for the
young wolver's savagery, he recognized a monster greater than
himself. His eyes glazed with fear.
Fear. River saw it and rejoiced in it. He
circled the beast who was no longer Donavan, but every brutal Alpha
he'd ever known as a cub, every monster he'd feared, but lacked the
power to fight. Paybacks were hell and Donavan would pay for them
all.
River beat Donavan as if he were human. He
cut him, bruised him, cracked ribs and long bones, but not so badly
that the Alpha couldn't fight. Donavan knew he was beaten. He
waited for his moment. He turned and ran.
Tired from his own battles, River followed
him, but not too fast. There was no need. Donavan was finished.
When he found him, Donavan was belly down and
crawling. Roland stood in his path.
The old gray Alpha, friend and mentor, looked
up at River and back down at the beast lying at his feet. When he
looked at River again, the wolf's message was clear. Donavan was
River's kill to make if he chose to do so.
River raised his snout to the setting moon
and howled his victory. It was enough to have avenged his past. He
turned and trotted back to Reb. Donavan's death scream echoed
across the forest.
Others were already running up the path to
their Alpha, howling their victory, too.
Reb met him halfway. Unsteady and staggering
a bit on four feet, she almost fell when reduced to two when the
moon reached the horizon and called her wolvers home. River was
there to catch her up into his arms. Her feet were bare and she was
wearing a yellow sundress, cotton, he assumed since it was still in
one piece. After all she'd been through, she still smelled like
sunshine and clear water from a mountain spring.
"I can walk. I'm okay," she protested even as
she snuggled closer and wrapped her arm around his neck.
"He could have killed you, you know," River
scolded.
"I could say the same to you," she answered.
She sighed. "You didn't kill him, did you." It wasn't a
question.
"No, your father did."
"Father?" She sounded surprised and River
laughed.
"He is the Alpha, you know. Another invaded
his territory. It was his right."
"I know, but...Father? Really?"
River didn't laugh. "Roland is the Alpha.
Fair and just. He is what an Alpha should be, what all wolvers
should be?"
"So are you," she whispered, head resting on
his shoulder.
River didn't think so and Reb wouldn't think
so either if she'd seen what he became when he fought Donavan.
Reb looked up when he didn't answer. "Are you
okay?"
"I'm fine. A few scratches is all."
"That's good because I have another
question."
"What?"
"Are you in the mood for fudge?"
"Fudge?" Between the moon and the battle, it
was a helluva lot more than a mood and it sure as hell was a lot
more than fudge.
"Yes, fudge," she said and then she giggled.
"You can call it whatever you like, but only after we're in
bed."
Their time alone was delayed. River couldn't
walk three feet without a group of wolvers stopping them to ask
what happened with Donavan. Most of them already knew, but they
wanted to hear it from the hero's mouth. They were disappointed in
River's lack of specifics.
"I did my duty as the Alpha's Champion.
Roland killed him as is his right."
Ignoring the Champion's example, they went on
to proudly tell him in minute detail of their own role in what
Rosemary, Sweet Valley's self-proclaimed historian and known
romanticist, was already calling the Battle of the Chase.
She ran up to them, hands flapping in her
signature fan. "I didn't slap. I bit. Twice, and they were good
ones. I felt so bold and daring," she declared proudly and then
leaned in, voice lowered to a whisper. "Nathan finished him.
Please, River, tell him how proud you are. He was very brave."
"We will. Absolutely," Reb told her because
River wasn't talking much. He was tense and unsmiling and she
didn't know why. Frightening as it had been, the run had been a
success. Donavan and his men were gone and the pack was elated by
the victory.
They'd already received a status report from
Scar, he being the only one who thought the Alpha and River might
want to know. There were several injuries. Most would heal in a day
or two. To everyone's relief, there were no casualties.
"We made up in numbers what we lacked in
skill," Scar told them with a shrug.
"They need more practice." River looked
around the compound. "I wish I knew how they found us."
"Gordon. You should have killed him when you
had the chance."
River shook his head. "No. The Alpha was
right and it's better this happened now than later. One less thing
for you to worry about."
"Want to hear the kicker?"
Reb didn't. She wanted River. Alone. But
River nodded at the question.
"Hit me."
"His former buddies are the ones who took him
out. Whatever the hell you're doing here, son, you're doing it
right."
"It's not me. It's the pack. Anything
else?"
The Alpha was tired, but no worse off. The
Mate was tending to the injured. There was no reason for her or
River to be out and about. Everything was being handled.
Reb took one last look around, searching, but
not really worried. "Where's Celia?"
"Oh, um," Rosemary waved her hand vaguely,
"She's um, she and Ben took a stroll, um..."
Reb laughed, glad her idea of using Ben to
make River jealous had fallen through. "That's okay, honey. We get
the picture." She looked up at River. "Sharing fudge."
"Oh, no, Arnold made that for...Oh dear." She
looked around, a bit desperately. "You need to talk to Arnold and I
need to go...um...find Nathan." Rosemary beamed as if she'd found a
solution to a problem. She scurried off, head snapping from side to
side like a worried hen.
Lawrence and Arnold had already given them a
wave and salute, but now walked toward them grinning like two
Cheshire cats.
"I take it back, River. Fighting is not a
barbaric enterprise, not when used to defend one's hearth. It was
quite exhilarating, actually. Satisfying. Both during and after,"
he said with a wink.
"Fudge," Reb giggled.
"Who told?" Arnold demanded. He glared at his
partner.
"Not me!" Lawrence frowned at Arnold and
complained to the others. "A minute ago I was his hero. Now he
suspects me of being a stool pigeon."
"Oh go put your shirt on," Arnold
snapped.
"You said you liked me without my shirt," the
other huffed. He waved his hand. "Just tell them what we came to
say."
"Yes, yes, fine." The wolver cleared his
throat. "In gratitude for all you have done for us, Lawrence and I
have abandoned our premises for the rest of the night. We offer it
to you both for your enjoyment." He paused to wink before he added.
"And not to worry, I've taken care of everything."
"You?" Lawrence drew the indignant word into
two syllables.
"Fine. Lawrence changed the sheets."
Reb hugged and kissed them both to stop the
bickering before it continued. "You're wonderful. Both of you."
She pulled River behind her toward the cabin
Arnold and Lawrence shared with another couple. She wanted to get
there before they were interrupted again. They were at the steps
before River pulled back.
"Babe," he said quietly. "I've got some
things I need to do."
"You'll be back, right? You promise?" She
knew he had to be exhausted, but his quiet solemnity worried her.
Something was wrong.
"I promise."
It was in his eyes. The sadness was back. She
reached out to touch his cheek.
"We don't have to do anything, you know. I
just want to hold you in my arms, feel you beside me."
"Don't worry, Babe, I plan to do a whole lot
more than hold you in my arms." He pulled the hand at his cheek to
his lips and kissed the palm. "Fifteen minutes, no more. Make sure
the shower's hot, okay?"
"Okay," she said, but knew it wasn't.
~*~
Being the Alpha's daughter, Reb had managed
to claim a room for herself. It was a former closet and was stuffed
with boxes and bags piled high to allow for a pallet on the floor.
It was tiny and cramped, but offered them some privacy at night if
you didn't count the dozen females sleeping outside the door.
River kept his few possessions in the room he
officially shared with five other wolvers, and that was where he
was headed. It didn't take him long to pack. His clothes were
already folded neatly in the duffle. A small cardboard box held
personal items. These he packed in the side pockets of his bag.
The small metal box was at the bottom of the
cardboard one. It was a former cookie tin with a hinged lid. He'd
stolen it from the trash bin in the kitchen when he first came to
live at Wolf's Head. That box held everything that was important to
him.
On top were the creased and crinkled papers
Eugene Begley had handed him the day River left. He'd never read
them, wasn't sure why he kept them, and almost tossed them aside to
be thrown away. He changed his mind and left them where they were.
It was time he read them and heard what they had to say.
He'd grown up a lot in this past month. He'd
learned a lot about himself. He'd lost a lot of his anger and even
if it sometimes felt like losing an old friend, he was confident he
could fill the hole the anger left behind. The monster, he wasn't
sure about, but after his fight with Donavan, he felt like there
was a hole there, too.
His papers were there beneath Begley's; birth
certificate, Social Security card, vehicle registration, everything
he needed to get along in the human world. His money was still
there. Not nearly what he started with, but still a good sum. He
left most of it under the pillow where eventually it would be
found. That and the thousand the Mate still owed him was for Sweet
Valley pack. They needed it more than he did and he had nothing
else to give.
Of the seven items left in the box, River
chose three. The glass cat's eye marble was Crow's. The pup called
it his lucky charm and he carried it with him wherever he went
except on the day he drowned. Next was a plastic wind-up toy,
barely two inches high. It was a little duck and when you turned
the tiny knob, it would waddle across the table. When Skeeter died,
River had offered it to Meadow, but she refused to touch it and he
couldn't bear to throw it away.
The third was another theft, a gold-toned
bracelet that belonged to Kat. It came with the package of pictures
she made them sit for at the mall. You'd need a magnifying glass to
see the five of them squished together in the little heart that
dangled from the links. He never understood why he took it, but he
did now. They were the people he cared for most and it belonged to
the Mate who loved them all.