Wolf Rock Shifters Books 1-5: Five BBW Paranormal Romance Standalone Novels (58 page)

E
stée felt
the car stop and then heard the muffled sound of lively conversation, hopefully between two friendly shifters, before the sedan started up again. A good sign.

Behind her, Dascha’s snoring had stopped and she could sense his alertness, attentive wolf’s ears perked to listen for any incidents.

And then they were off at full speed again, no doubt racing through the tunnel to something like freedom—well, the freedom to confront an unseen, no doubt very strong man who’d already proven himself an enemy.

And that was only the first of two unfortunate meetings to come. Grendel and his Syndicate were another matter entirely.

For the first time in ages, Estée just wanted to be home in her bed. To be a child again, to live a simple life where others took on all her responsibilities, fed her, read to her, provided a roof over her head. This adulthood thing was no laughing matter; a sequence of near-death experiences was only the latest in a string of devastating incidents in her life.

She thought of Cecile, with her handsome mate, happily ensconced in a new domestic life, and wondered if she might ever find her way to that; to a happier time and place.

And as her mind wandered, she pictured a place that she might call her own. One over here, in England; an old house with slightly crooked walls and a beautiful, wild garden out back, crawling with green and colourful flowers.

One in which Dascha lived with her.

She almost wanted to shake the thought from her head. Dascha? Yeah, right. Like that guy would ever live the life of domestic bliss.

Kind and protective though he was, he was also an animal. There was rage deep within him, resentment. He’d spent his life trying to prove his worth and was still trying. And until he did it, the demons inside him would never settle down.

Much as she felt an unrelenting attraction to him, she was still half-human, and therefore possessed a tiny modicum of common sense.

Someone like Colin would be far superior as a mate. Intelligent, calm, polite, obedient. Predictable. She could picture him tending a garden, sipping tea, being sociable, civilized.

But somehow her mind returned again and again to Dascha.

Dascha in bed, tousled hair, sheets wrapped loosely over his waist, turning onto his back with a huge smile on his face as they debated whether to get up or to make love one more time.

Those lips of his, which turned up at the corners before he even meant to smile. And those eyes—piercing, sometimes angry, sometimes amused. Always concealing an underlying kindness which he resisted like a weakness. But it was there. He was her guardian; he would never let anyone near her if he had the choice.

And he liked her as she was, her curves, her mind. Even her complexity. She didn’t scare him as she did some men.

But it was only a fantasy. The reality would be a difficult man, hard to live with, hard to love.

And so she mustn’t love him.

Behind her, she felt him move a little, his hand going for a moment to her waist and holding her. She wasn’t certain if he was asleep once again, or if this was one of his moments of affection brought on by weakness.

“Dascha?” she said quietly.

“Estée?”

“You awake?”

His hand pulled away, slipping back so that it touched only his own body. “Yes, I am now,” he said, failing to properly answer the question. So had he known that he was holding her?

“Okay,” she said. “Just checking.”

A few minutes later they felt the car pull over to the left side of the road, indicating that they were now back in England.

“Here we are, home again,” murmured Estée.

“I’m sure we’ll be welcomed with open arms,” said Dascha. The trunk opened, sunlight flooding over them as he thrust an arm over his face.

“Hello,” said Colin, grinning. “And welcome to merry old England.”

T
he wolf pack
known as the Fraternity of the Claw kept its base of operations just outside of London, in a stately home that had once been owned by an Earl.

As with Tristan in their Wolf Rock cabin, the Alpha lived in the house while his pack mates came and went, living their lives elsewhere while tending their duties as shifters.

“Does your Alpha have a mate?” Estée asked Colin as they drove. This time she was seated up next to the driver, but she took special care not to show interest in him personally, for Dascha’s sake.

“He doesn’t, which I suppose could explain his surliness,” said Colin. “But perhaps it’s his surliness that’s kept him single. He’s not exactly a charmer.”

“Maybe singleness is why Dascha’s such a grumpy bastard, too,” joked Estée.

“You’re the mistress of wit, aren’t you?” he said from the back seat.

“I do what I can. I’ll be here all week,” she said, turning to him and winking.

“Our Alpha’s name is Naxx, by the way. I won’t tell you that the packers sometimes call him ‘Der Führer’ behind his back. He’s not the most…obliging…fellow, to say the least.”

“No, I suppose not,” said Dascha. “Is he a big guy?”

“Big? Yes. Bigger than you? I don’t think so,” Colin said. “He lives up to his nickname, though. Doesn’t exactly play fair. He invents his own rules, and even those he manages to break at fairly regular intervals. Naxx looks after himself, and the pack is secondary.”

Naxx was sounding like the opposite of Tristan, the Alpha with the golden halo floating over his head.
He
was somehow the balance of a perfectly reasonable man and a vicious predator, and everyone in the town respected him.

“So you’re saying he’s not going to shake my hand and ask me in for tea when we arrive?” said Dascha.

“No. In fact, in all likelihood he’ll try and do away with you while ordering our guys to take Estée into custody.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” said Dascha.

Estée glared at him.

“Kidding,” he said. “Colin, what would I have to do to get you to take Estée somewhere safe before we go meet your glorious leader?”

“Oh, no. I’m not leaving you,” she said.

“Estée, this is a big boy fight. You don’t want any part of it.”

“Yeah? And when this Naxx guy kills you, then what am I supposed to do?”

“Then you run like the wind, buy a wig, get the hell out of there and live your life.”

“I’m not willing to let you get killed for me. Don’t forget that I’m a freaking tiger. I’m not helpless.”

“No, you’re not. But I need to do this for you. It’s sort of my job, remember?”

“You two, calm down,” said Colin. “Estée, Dascha is quite right. You shouldn’t be around if he’s to confront the Alpha. Naxx has every intention of wrapping you up and presenting you to Grendel’s men, and without Dascha around to protect you, I can do nothing. I must follow my leader’s orders.”

“You’re not following orders now,” she said.

“Am I not? I was told to bring you to England. I’m doing just that.”

“You raise a good point. But you know what I mean. Colin, you’re obviously a good guy.”

“Which is exactly why I won’t stand by and watch this unfold. Let me take you to my place. You can stay there until all is said and done, and then we can sort out the mess.”

The idea was odious to Estée. But so was the idea of watching Dascha get his jugular pierced by a large Alpha’s fangs.

“All right,” she said. “I’ll trust you not to turn me in to your Alpha if anything should go wrong. And you,” she said, facing Dascha. “I’ll trust you not to get yourself killed.”

“Count on it.”

Colin drove them to his apartment, seemingly oblivious to the tense silence that had set in.

“We’ll be back later,” said Dascha. “At least Colin will.”

Estée felt gutted, helpless. This felt wrong; all of it. Colin got out of the car and unlocked the door for her as she bit her tongue, suppressing her instincts to tell Dascha that it was foolish. That he should stay with her.

“I’ll be back in a little,” Colin said as he showed her in.

Dascha had gotten out of the car as well, and their driver seemed to understand that he should grant them a moment alone. “I’ll be in the car,” he said.

Estée slipped into the apartment, Dascha behind her, leaving the door ajar. Closing it might mean never opening it again; if he found himself locked up with her again he wouldn’t want to let her go.

“You know why I have to do this,” he said, looking into her eyes, which seemed to have gone a little pink since the last time he’d seen them up close.

“Because you’re a big, broad-shouldered he-wolf who can’t stand missing out on a fight to the death.”

“Oh, good. I was afraid you’d misinterpret my actions.” Dascha thrust his arm out, his fist against the wall next to her face. “Estée…” he said.

“Just go. Do what you need to. I’ll be fine, with or without you,” she said.

“Will you?”

“Yes. I was fine before you ever came along, wasn’t I?” Her eyes were avoiding his now, and he thought he detected a quiver in her voice.

“Well, ‘fine’ is debatable. When I found you, you were in an alley being chased by bears, remember.”

“God, you drive me nuts.”

“Do I?”

“Yes.” She was still averting her gaze, her eyes going everywhere but to his. Looking at him was too painful; it might be the last time she got to see his handsome face.

He leaned in, bending his elbow, his face nearing hers. “Wait here for me,” he said softly. “Wait here for me to come and look after you. I won’t be long.”

“Promise me.” Her eyes were fixed on the floor now, away from any part of him.

“Hey.” Dascha put a hand on her neck, the warmth of it radiating through her skin as she allowed her eyes to close, to take in the sensation. “I promise. I will come back for you.”

Estée opened her eyes again and, as though another person had taken her over, she flung her arms around his neck, pulling his body into hers. In turn, his arms went around her, his hands pressed to her back, sliding slowly over down, registering every nuance of her form so that his mind could recall it later.

She pulled away at last and kissed him once on the cheek.

“Go get him,” she said. “And come back to me.”

D
ascha remained largely
quiet during the drive to the Fraternity’s residence, contemplating what he might say to an unreasonable, corrupt Alpha. Even as he thought, his fingers went to the place where Estée had kissed him, touching his own face as though to confirm that her lips were no longer on his skin. He could feel them, though; their softness, the tender touch, as though they remained fixed on him.

“Any advice on your leader?” he asked Colin after several minutes of travel.

“None. He’s strong. And quick to anger.”

“That’s great news.”

“But he’s no larger than you. And I can guarantee you that the pack won’t defend him, should he attack you unthreatened. But I recommend that you not attack first, for that very reason.”

“Understood. Honestly, I just want to talk. To figure out what’s going on here.”

“What do you mean?”

“It seems to me that he was asked to bring Estée in, as a captive, to turn her over for some reason.”

“I can’t say why; I don’t know. Perhaps he feels that she’s guilty.”

“No, she’s no murderer. I mean, she stole something from this Grendel guy, but…”

“This is the first I’ve heard of it. I was told that she’d been accused of murder, though five seconds with her told me that she’s no killer. What did she steal?”

“It’s nothing. A trinket, a sentimental piece that belonged to her mother. And yeah, maybe it’s worth something. But then surely he’d want it back, and not her. Why does he want
her?
”

“Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, she is a rather beautiful woman.”

“I’d noticed, believe me.”

“So it shouldn’t surprise you that a man should want her.”

“But we’re talking about a billionaire who could have any woman he wants. Why her? Why would a man like that try and take a woman forcefully?”

“Dunno. I don’t particularly care; all I know is that the man is trouble. And I find it reprehensible that he’s sunk his claws into our Alpha. But power corrupts, as they say. Even shifters are susceptible to greed.”

“Yes,” said Dascha. “They are.” His mind was spinning with the possibilities. Could it be that Grendel saw Estée as a potential mate?

“Are you ready?” asked Colin after a few minutes. “We’re nearly there.”

“Yeah. Listen, would you hold onto my bag? It’s still in your trunk. If anything happens to me, just give it to Estée…”

“Of course,” said Colin, his voice gentle.

“And promise me you won’t let anything happen to her.”

“You have my word, as a fellow wolf.”

“If only being a fellow wolf were enough,” said Dascha. “I’ve learned that some wolves aren’t to be trusted.”

He was speaking as much of himself as the Alpha he was on the verge of meeting. But if these last days had proven nothing else, Dascha now knew that he was reliable, strong and even brave in the face of danger. More than once he’d been willing to sacrifice himself to save Estée, and he was doing it again. And, if he survived this altercation, he would take the jade cat to Grendel, whether Estée approved the move or not. He would end the hunt.

He could no longer fathom allowing her near harm’s way. Just as her hand so often clenched around that small carved cat, she had become a comfort to him. She had somehow taught him to breathe, to feel everything in life that was good again: joy, amusement, relaxation. She’d opened him up to find that, deep inside him, the bitterness was disappearing, revealing a loving man.

And he wasn’t yet ready to give up what she’d given him.

C
olin escorted
him into the large manor house, opening the door to reveal an old, well-kept interior which had obviously been preserved for generations, which meant ongoing expenses, a need for wealth. So money really was the Alpha’s motivation.

The house was in stark contrast to the rustic cabin that the Wolf Rock pack used—there, comfort was paramount. Here was a Fraternity that seemed more like a bunch of aristocrats living under the same roof than anything.

“I’ll bring you in,” said Colin. “Just be prepared for whatever might come.”

“Understood,” said Dascha.

Colin opened the door to reveal a large, dark drawing room whose curtains were closed, creating an atmosphere of flitting dust particles and quiet, much like an underused library.

In a large armchair sat a man who looked as though he might equal Dascha in size, his shoulders broad. He was blond, tidily groomed, bright blue eyes glowing in the dim light of the room.

“And so,” he said without standing. “You are the guardian of the tigress.”

“I suppose I am,” said Dascha. “Though the tigress is far from here, out of your reach.”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know. I told her to conceal herself. I didn’t want her to tell me a thing about where she was going.”

The Alpha stood and walked over to the other man, sizing him up as he did so. He wore pants that looked as though they belonged to a business suit and a black, button-down shirt which seemed just slightly too tight across the chest, no doubt in an attempt to seem even more muscular than he was.

“Pity that you’re making my job more difficult,” he said. “But no matter. We’ll find her after we deal with you.”

“And just what’s that supposed to mean?” asked Dascha. Colin stood back, observing and maintaining a dignified silence.

“A report has come to me that you killed one of our men. The one sent to pick you up in Paris.”

“I’m pretty fucking certain that you know that’s not true,” said Dascha. “It was a hyena—one of Grendel’s men—who killed him. I asked him who he worked for and he was kind enough to tell me in exchange for not choking him to death.”

“Oh? And you just assumed that he was telling the truth? How naïve of you. Fortunately, Dascha, I am not so foolish as you.” The Alpha snapped his fingers, the gesture irritating the other shifter.

“I thought you and Tristan were friends,” he said. “If that’s the case then you should know…”

“Tristan is an acquaintance, and an ally of sorts. Friends? I’m not sure I’d go that far. He outed our entire species to the whole world, after all. On television, at that. He has a good deal to answer for.”

“So, what? You’re going to kill me to get back at him for it?”

“Kill you? What an appealing thought. I may just have to do that.”

“Fine,” growled Dascha, removing his jacket and throwing it to the floor. “You want to do this here?”

“Oh, come now. Why be so uncivilized? I would never fight you without witnesses. It could land me in all sorts of trouble. Colin,” he said, turning to his pack mate. “Fetch the others. We’ll meet in the back.”

Colin nodded and left the room, closing the doors behind him as though trusting that his leader wouldn’t try anything in the meantime, and knowing that Dascha would heed his advice not to make the first move.

“So, tell me about this tiger of yours.”

“She’s not mine, for one thing.”

“No? And yet here you are, protecting her from big bad me.”

“I’m protecting her from a lot more than you. It’s my duty.”

“Ah, yes. You’re saving her from the man who hunts her. It seems that she’s much in demand around here. She must be quite a specimen.”

“She’s…a piece of work,” Dascha said, making his way around the room slowly, examining its contents. Mostly they consisted of old leather-bound books and artifacts signifying that someone had done a good deal of traveling. But he had the impression that the Alpha had no real attachment to the room; he simply liked to spend time within its walls, posing aristocratically in order to make himself feel superior.
The guy must have one tiny penis,
thought Dascha.

“I imagine that she is,” said Naxx. “She’s quite beautiful, from what I’ve seen. She’d make a fine mate for the likes of one of us.”

“You think? I hadn’t considered it, myself.”

The other man laughed. “No, of course not. A man like you is never driven by what’s in his pants.”

No,
thought Dascha.
By what’s in my chest, perhaps.

The door opened again and Colin entered. “We’re ready, Naxx,” he said.

“Good. Let’s go settle this outside like proper wolves, shall we?”

“Fine.”

Dascha picked his jacket up off the floor and followed Naxx out into the hallway, where men with blue eyes milled about, uncomfortably awaiting whatever was coming. The atmosphere was beyond tense, the men sizing Dascha up, most likely still uncertain whether he’d killed their pack mate or not.

Logic or something else told them that no sane shifter would do such a thing and then show up at the pack’s residence on the same day: that was begging for a painful death. But then, maybe this guy was far from sane.

Naxx led him out through a kitchen at the back of the large house, into an expansive field which seemed to stretch for miles into the distance, rolling hills and the odd house scattered around.

The Alpha turned to his pack when they’d all gathered.

“This man killed one of ours this morning, in Paris, and stole his car,” he said. “For that he must pay the price.”

He began to disrobe, starting with his shirt, while his pack members looked on.

“Wait,” said Colin, his voice more assertive than Dascha had imagined it could sound. And he was interrupting an Alpha. That simply wasn’t done.

“What is it?” asked Naxx, his tone filled with exasperation.

“He’s no killer. I know what happened, and this man is innocent. He was protecting a friend of his, and he tried to save Martin this morning. It was a hyena shifter, an employee of Grendel’s, who killed him.”

The men let out a string of muffled words, seemingly discussing Colin’s news as they stood by.

“Foolishness,” growled Naxx. “Lies. Colin was not there. He didn’t see.”

“You weren’t there either,” said Colin, advancing still closer to his Alpha. “The only way you could possibly know what happened is to have heard firsthand, via Grendel.” He turned to face his fellow pack members. “This has gone on long enough,” he said. “Our leader is corrupt, and you all know it, deep down. Do not believe a word he says.”

“Come now, Colin,” began Naxx, his voice charming, attempting to sound laid back.

“You
come on,” his subordinate growled, turning to face him once again. The Alpha was a much larger man, and Dascha was filled with admiration for Colin for having the balls to stand up to him. “I’ve had enough of your shite. The Fraternity has existed for centuries, and you have done nothing but sully its name through greed and corruption. You are meant to be a figurehead for us, and instead you take bribes and allow our members to be used for your own personal gain. I won’t have it.”

“Oh, won’t you?” asked Naxx, now tearing the rest of his clothing away in preparation for a shift.

“Colin,” said Dascha. “I can’t let you do this.” There was no question of who would win this altercation, and already one of their pack members had died. There was no sense in him losing his life as well.

Colin pulled at his collar, his face coated in perspiration as he glared at his leader. “It must be done,” he said. “For the sake of the Fraternity.”

“Then let me. I’ll fight him on your behalf,” said Dascha. “Hell, I was going to fight him anyhow.”

Colin paused for a moment. “That wouldn’t be right,” he said. “I couldn’t…”

“I don’t think you have a choice. Let me take him on. Then, if he ends up standing over my corpse and you want your turn, have at it.”

Naxx had watched the exchange with bitter amusement contorting his features. “Well,” he said. “Are you quite through with your lady-squabbling?”

“Yes, we are,” said Dascha, turning his way. Again, he flung the jacket to the ground before stripping off his shirt and tearing away the rest of his clothing. But he waited, abiding by the rules of the game while Naxx finished preparing.

The Alpha changed then, into a light-coloured, tall wolf. His blond coat, combined with his light eyes, gave him a washed-out look, his paleness in direct contrast with his very shady personality.

Dascha shifted as well, his dark form similar in size to the Alpha’s, his back high, ears back, marking his hostility as he let out a low growl.

The Fraternity members stood by, watching calmly, their faces devoid of expression. Perhaps they were attempting to conceal their contempt for their leader, or perhaps more curious to see if the intruder could take him.

The only one with any sort of visible expression was Colin, who looked concerned. He’d grown to like Dascha and to respect him for what he’d done to protect Estée, a woman that he hardly knew. He liked
her
as well, and could see that the two shifters from Wolf Rock had developed a fondness for each other. It would, he knew, devastate Estée if she got news that Dascha had been brought down. Whether she were likely to admit it or not, she needed him.

“Be careful, my friend,” Colin said quietly as the dark wolf stepped near him. “He’s quick, and dirtier than a hobo’s underpants.”

Dascha kept his head low to the ground, his growl continuous. The other wolf was unreadable, unpredictable in his movements. Now and again, he would hop to the side as though to distract his opponent, or mock-lunge at him. But they had yet to make contact after circling their temporary ring several times.

At last Dascha decided to spoil the Alpha’s game and he leapt at him, at the last second veering away and landing on the ground beside Naxx. The blond wolf jumped to the side, apparently startled by this sudden move. Dascha thrust his head at the Alpha, snapping his jaws at the same time, which caused the other wolf to recoil in fear.

So, he’s a coward,
thought Dascha.
That makes things easier.

Naxx regained his composure and once again walked the broad circle, his eyes fixed on his opponent as he stalked him. But he seemed to be playing nothing more than a waiting game; it was as though he were unable to actually attack, rendered impotent by fear.

Shifters had a name for Alphas of this sort:
Reluctants.
The sort who could win a fight by pure strength or luck, but who were unable to use their brains to strategize. And if the one lucky fight were the one that gave them their status, they remained Alpha until challenged by another wolf.