Lucas’s fist drove into Colt’s jaw, but Colt rebounded, delivering a powerful throat punch that left the bloodsucker gasping for air. They met each other’s hits blow for blow. The vampire was strong, fast, cunning, but no more so than Colt.
Without warning, the bloodsucker reached for his knife. He brought it down in a powerful arc. Colt blocked the blade as it hovered inches over his heart.
If only he could reach the stake at his belt, he would have this bloodsucker right where he wanted him.
“Colt!” one of his packmates shouted.
In the midst of his own battle, Blaze kicked Colt’s gun toward him, but Lucas was too focused on the thrill of his strike, his blade inches from Colt’s chest, to notice. Colt reached for the gun with his free hand. If his fingers would just go an inch farther…
“Any last words, Commander?” the vampire hissed.
“Yeah.” Colt nodded, his words near panting as he strained with all his strength to hold back the vampire. His hand made contact with his .45 as he met Lucas’s gaze. “Fuck you.”
Colt bashed the butt of his gun upside the vampire’s head, knocking the bloodsucker off-balance while gripping the vamp by the throat. Lucas lifted his blade again, but not before Colt reached his stake, pulling the vampire down toward him as he plunged it into the bloodsucker’s back, piercing his heart. Lucas’s blade clattered to the floor. A moment later, Colt stood, chest heaving. The bastard was dead.
When Colt lifted his gaze, Maverick was staring at him, panting at having won his own battle against one of the vamps. As he looked toward Colt, his face twisted with confusion and anger. “What the fuck do you mean you’re not a Grey Wolf?” he snarled.
But Colt didn’t have the time to answer the packmaster’s question. Just behind Maverick, Eli rose to his feet, barely alive but clutching Lucas’s blade in his hand. He was pale and swaying on his feet, but the spark in his eyes said if he couldn’t have Belle’s life, the Grey Wolf packmaster would do.
“No!” Colt shouted. He shoved Maverick out of the way, placing himself in the line of fire. A sharp, stabbing pain pierced his chest, and Colt was vaguely aware of the feeling of his body hitting the cold stone floor of the dungeon before everything went black.
Chapter 22
Colt awoke twenty-four hours later in the pack’s new infirmary to find all eight of the elite alpha warriors, the packmaster included—along with Maeve and a few others—standing over him.
“What’s going on?” he rasped. He eased up in the bed, scratching at his beard. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here. “Did we manage to kill…?”
Maverick nodded. “Lucas is dead. As for his work, that’s uncertain. They drew Maeve’s blood when they held her, and since she’s pure Grey Wolf…”
There was a chance another vampire could carry out Lucas’s twisted scientific legacy. It would likely take time for someone to pick up his work where he left off, but still.
“Not to mention that bastard got away,” Malcolm snarled.
Colt raised a brow.
“Apparently, the vampires had managed to take the Rogue captive. You know I’m never a fan of vamps killing shifters, but in that case…” Maverick snarled. “We don’t know how the bastard managed to get out.”
Maeve shrank into Maverick’s shadows, suddenly looking flushed and also a little panic-stricken.
Colt wanted to tell Maverick about the missing Rogue shifters Belle had told him about, but that was a conversation for later.
It was all coming back to Colt now. Belle, Lucas, Eli, the blade.
And before that, him confessing the truth to stall Lucas.
His eyes darted around at all his packmembers. “Why are you all here?” he breathed. He had the feeling he already knew the unfortunate answer to that. His stomach churned.
“This is an intervention,” Maverick said, confirming Colt’s worst fear.
Colt winced. Shit. He’d known this was coming.
He hung his head, extending his wrists toward Maverick. “Whether you’re going to kill me or cast me out, please make it quick.”
Maverick scoffed at him before Blaze interjected, “Not an intervention to kick you out, dumbass. An intervention to tell you to stop being such a pussy.”
“Shut the fuck up, Blaze,” Dean growled.
Colt lifted his head, his eyes darting between them all again. “What’s going on?”
Maeve gave a whimsical sort of shrug as she sighed. “Word’s gotten out that you’re not a Grey Wolf.”
Maverick frowned, clearly unamused. “Apparently we have more than one elite warrior who’s Wild Eight.”
Colt’s jaw fell slack. “You mean you’re not going to kill me? To cast me out of the pack?”
The packmaster bristled. “I may be angry enough to want to beat you into an ever-loving pulp for not telling me sooner, and I can’t believe I’m having to give you this sappy, shitty speech, Colt Cavanaugh, but you’re as fucking Grey Wolf as they come. None of us could give two shits about your bloodline.”
Blaze clapped Maverick on the back with a grin, which only caused Maverick’s frown to deepen. “You think this cold-hearted bastard could manage to love someone like Wes fucking Calhoun but not you?” Blaze chuckled.
“You’ve been a Grey Wolf since you were a child,” Dean added.
“I’ve known you since I was born,” Maeve echoed.
“And I owe my life to you.” A deep voice sounded from somewhere in the back. The group of his packmates parted as Wes stepped forward.
“I thought you were on your honeymoon,” Colt said.
Wes let out an annoyed huff through his nose. “When we heard you’d been injured, we decided to come back. There are only so many times in my life when I’ll have a brother lying in a hospital bed—and you think I wouldn’t show up.”
“Wait,” Maeve breathed. “You’re not just Wild Eight? You’re Nolan’s son?” Her eyes grew wide.
“We’d already established that, darlin’,” Austin drawled from where he leaned in the corner.
“Maverick didn’t tell me—”
Malcolm hushed her, causing Maeve to glare at him.
Colt looked toward his brother. “Wes, I should have told you, but I—”
Wes shrugged. “Save it. I already knew.”
“You did?” Maverick growled.
All his packmates started to talk at once before Wes spoke again. “Course I knew.” He gave Colt a knowing look. “When Maverick told me it was you who’d convinced him to spare me all those years ago, it was downright confirmation.”
Maverick nodded. “To be honest, I had my suspicions even back then, and when Belle showed up—”
“Wait,” Colt interjected. “You knew who Belle was from the start?”
Every one of his packmates burst out laughing, chuckling as if he had just told a hilarious joke.
“Of course we knew!” several of them cried.
“Unfortunately, brother, you’re very vocal when you sleep.” Wes grinned.
“And when we hauled you out of the vampires’ coven the first time, every other word while you were out of it was ‘Belle, Belle, Belle.’” Blaze made a fake gagging noise. “I’ll never sit on a porch swing again.”
Maeve clutched both hands together and lifted them to her cheek with a dreamy sigh. “So romantic.”
Colt was struggling to wrap his head around all this. “If you knew who she was, why let her stay here? Pretend she was part of the pack?”
Maverick shrugged. “Well, it helped that Wes vouched that she was harmless.”
“But I mean, why wouldn’t we allow her here?” Maeve asked.
“Ain’t it obvious?” Austin asked.
Even stone-faced Malcolm was shaking his head. “Even I see why.”
They were all nodding their heads in agree
ment. Apparently, the answer was obvious—to everyone but Colt.
“Because you love her, you moron!” The angry comment came from Sierra, who was now standing in the doorway. Her jaw was set, and she looked like she held all the force of a bull prepared to charge inside her—and he was her target. She was clearly pissed. Not only had he never told her he was Wild Eight, but she’d befriended Belle, and Sierra was fiercely protective of her friends.
Sierra stalked toward him. Immediately, Maverick started ushering the rest of them out of the room, leaving only Wes behind. Obviously pack visiting time had shifted into family only.
“What were you thinking?” Sierra snarled.
Colt cast a glance toward Wes, but Wes threw up his hands as if to say Sorry, not going to help you on this one, bro.
Sierra was at Colt’s bedside, glaring down at him. “You were going to lose her to keep your reputation hidden, and for what? For the sake of a dead man?”
“Sierra…” he breathed.
She raised a hand. “Don’t, Colt. Not now.”
“Sierra, I should have told you, but I—”
“You think I didn’t know?” She placed her hands on her hips, glaring at him. “You think I didn’t start to suspect when Wes showed up at the pack? If he cleaned up all his scruff, he might as well be your twin.”
Wes ran a hand through his chin-length hair. “Hey now. Colt here is a handsome motherfucker, but don’t bash the scruff.”
Sierra snarled at him, clearly displeased with being interrupted, before she rounded on Colt again. “I’d always suspected there was some discord between you and Dad, but I chalked it up to the fact that he knew one day you’d take over his position, likely long before he was ready to give it up. The man lived to be a soldier. He wouldn’t have wanted anyone to take that from him. Not even you.”
She pointed to Wes. “But when this troublemaker showed up looking just like you and Maverick spared him, one of our sworn enemies, I knew something was up. Suddenly, all the times Mom and Dad treated me as the favorite made sense, and it didn’t seem like funny sibling rivalry anymore. It seemed unfair. Dad always expected more, demanded more of you. I thought it was because I was female, but that wasn’t the case. It was because I was his own flesh and blood.”
Colt didn’t know where to begin. “Sierra, if you knew, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I thought you didn’t know! I couldn’t find any records of you before you were five. I assumed they’d been erased, because they took you in as a baby. I had no idea that you knew this whole time.”
“I would have told you, but I—”
“Spare me your excuses, brother.” She gripped the railing of his bedside. “That’s right, I said ‘brother,’ because even though we weren’t born of the same father, you’re just as stubborn and bullheaded as Dad was, which is more than enough proof that you’re as Grey Wolf as they come, Colt! And now, even though Dad is dead and he should no longer hold an ounce of sway over you, you’re going to let him ruin your chance at having something good.” She moved to stand inches away from Colt, staring him down. “All because you’re a coward,” she declared. “If you ask me, you don’t deserve the title of high commander.”
Colt stiffened.
“Sierra,” Wes warned.
She rounded on Wes. “No, he needs to hear this.” Turning back toward him, she jammed a finger into his chest, her eyes blazing with anger, frustration, and concern as she did. “You don’t deserve to be high commander,” she repeated. “And not because you’re not a Grey Wolf, but because you’re a coward and you’ve been lying to the pack for years.” She was shaking her head as if ashamed of him. “I know you, brother. You may say otherwise, but it’s not for the sake of some stupid oath. It was all to save your own pride.”
Colt finally raised his voice in protest. “You’re right. I am coward, and if you think I don’t deserve this position, it’s yours to claim by birthright.”
Sierra stilled. He knew without a doubt she would want his position. If he were any other person, she wouldn’t even hesitate. She’d trained for years with him and their father. She was the fiercest female among them, a far better warrior than most of their men. She’d worked hard enough that Colt had no doubt she could hold her own among the pack’s elite warriors. But ancient pack laws denied her the privilege of taking a titled position.
The spark of hope, of ambition in her eyes quickly faded to one of pain. Unshed tears welled. “You think so little of me?”
He hadn’t seen Sierra this close to crying since they were children. Their father had told Colt he was a soldier, meant to be Grey Wolf High commander, so he wasn’t allowed to cry, and in her quest to be just like the man, Sierra had also taken the lesson to heart.
Colt reached for her. “Sierra.”
“No.” She held up her hand again to silence him. She didn’t allow a single tear to fall. “I know how much your position, your title, your rank define you. They’ve made you into the man you are, and I love you enough to sacrifice my dreams to make yours a reality. I may want to be a soldier, but I want your happiness more. When you truly want something, that’s what you do; you sacrifice everything, Colt. I just hope you realize exactly what you’re choosing to sacrifice.”
Sierra stalked toward the door, tearing it open as she made a dramatic exit. She paused only long enough to shoot a glance over her shoulder at Wes. “Welcome to the family, Wes,” she said before she slammed the door.
Wes blew out a long breath before he chuckled. “She certainly knows how to make an exit.”
Colt raked a hand through his hair and released a long sigh. “You should have seen her in her teenage years.”
Wes’s grin faded, and he pegged Colt with a hard stare. “She’s right, you know. I was and am willing to sacrifice my life for Naomi. But I hesitated, because I was terrified I didn’t deserve her.”
“And then you realized that you did?”
Wes laughed. “Fuck no. I still don’t deserve her, and I’ll die a lonely, miserable death if she ever realizes that, but until then, as long as she’ll have me, I’ll be there.” He clapped a hand on Colt’s shoulder. “You’ll only be defined by being a Calhoun as long as you allow it. I didn’t allow having Nolan as a father to stop me from choosing my own path. You should do the same.” Wes gave Colt’s shoulder a final squeeze before he headed toward the door.
“I liked it better when I only had one sibling to deal with,” Colt grumbled.
Wes chuckled darkly. “And I liked it better when you were an arrogant Grey Wolf commander, not the man I owe my life to.” Those cold blue eyes softened, and he pegged Colt with a knowing stare. “Don’t make the same mistakes I did, brother.”
It wasn’t until two weeks later when the ranch’s mail came that Colt took Wes’s advice to heart. Every day he’d been waiting to hear from Belle about her appointment. Sierra and Maeve had told him she’d left the ranch almost immediately upon returning to Wolf Pack Run, but she hadn’t said where she was going. He’d tried to trace her, but as a Rogue, she knew how to cover her tracks. In any case, he knew it was only a matter of time until she returned, and he waited for that moment on pins and needles, so he could apologize, so he could tell her what she meant to him.
Finally, when a letter arrived addressed to him without a return address, he knew without a doubt it was her. He tore the letter open, ripping at the pale-yellow envelope in eager anticipation. He expected it to say when she’d be returning. He was eager to begin planning exactly what he was going to say her, but as he read the letter, his heart sank. It was scrawled in messy handwriting, so nearly illegible, it could have been written only by a doctor.
Dear Colt,
I’ll get straight to the point. I’ve had a miscarriage. It’s unfortunately common in the first twelve weeks, and considering the car crash and all that transpired…
I�
�ll recover in a short time. You’re off the hook now.
Belle
Colt collapsed into his desk chair as he gripped the letter in his hands. Until now, he hadn’t realized how excited he’d grown over the prospect of having a life with her, how much he’d hinged his hopes on the fact that their child would bring them back together. Until now, he’d never really thought he’d lost her.
What have I done?
As Colt read the letter over again, he lowered his Stetson from his head before he dropped the crumpled paper onto the desk and hung his head in his hands.
* * *
The emotional scars remained, but once Belle recovered physically, she returned to the rodeo. With her name cleared, it’d been easy to reclaim her old position. The rodeo was always in need of more doctors. There was a plethora of orthopedic-related injuries every night and no shortage of rodeos in the United States at which to work.
Since she’d left Wolf Pack Run, she’d tried not to think of Colt, but it was impossible. She missed the sound of his voice as he teased her, the molten steel of his eyes, and that wry smile of his as he grinned at her from beneath the rim of his Stetson hat. Admittedly, she’d been devastated to lose their baby, but it was so early in the pregnancy that it hadn’t been too physically traumatic. Dr. Jaffe thought the miscarriage was the result of the car accident followed by the stress and fear of being abducted. Though Belle hadn’t quite been ready for the idea of a child, she now had no excuse to maintain contact with Colt. She told herself the pain would lessen with time, but if she was honest, she doubted it would.
It was the end of a long day, and she was nearly dead on her feet. She was standing in one of the arena’s exam rooms when one of her nurses poked her head in.
“Dr. Beaumont,” the nurse said.
Belle glanced up from the stack of paperwork she’d been finishing up for the day.
“One of the cowboys says he’s having some chest pain. He asked to see you.” The woman passed her a manila folder. “Here’s his chart.”
“All right. One more. Send him in.” Belle took the proffered folder. Turning back toward her paperwork, she flipped open the folder as the door opened behind her. The top piece of paper in the manila folder didn’t look like a medical sheet at all, but instead, a crumpled letter.
Cowboy in Wolf's Clothing Page 28
