War: Feral Hearts Book One

by Knight, Gwen

“I was with a group of scavengers, and we got separated by a pack of wolves. I heard your engine and ran toward you.”

  In a heartbeat, Snow’s white furred form leaped through the open window, the men screaming. The driver got out, and War was there to meet him, grabbing his head and breaking his neck with a loud crack. The man crumpled to the ground.

  Snow moved from the cab, dragging the dead backup driver with him. Around the back of the vehicle, the other wolves pulled the dead guards from the truck bed.

  She slowly rose to her feet, amazed at how quickly the wolves had killed the humans.

  “Em?” War called to her. “It’s safe to come out now.”

  She moved with the wolves to him, staring at the dead bodies.

  “I didn’t know you were going to kill them,” she said.

  “It was better to have no survivors than to risk them making their way to the fort and telling the general that wolves and humans were working together and took off with the weapons. It might cause them to move up the timeline of their attack and catch us off guard.”

  She mused on that for a moment. “He’ll know something happened to them when they don’t show up, though.”

  “I know of at least one small pocket of humans living outside the Pinelands that holed up there like some doomsday cult. We witnessed them killing humans and stealing their supplies. We can move the bodies away from here to throw off the militia if they come looking for them.”

  One guard had boots in War’s size, and he took them, then liberated their walkies and weapons. War told several wolves to drag the bodies a few miles away and then return to the homestead. Emma grabbed their supplies from under the tree and put them in the back of the truck, then climbed into the cab, sitting in the middle of the bench seat. War went to climb behind the wheel, but Snow beat him, leaping into the front seat and stepping over Emma to sit at the passenger window.

  He reminded her of a family dog going for a car ride.

  “I think he just called shotgun,” Emma said with a laugh.

  She reached over and rolled up the window as War sat behind the wheel and slammed the door shut. In moments they were on their way back to the homestead. She let out a sigh of relief.

  “We did it, babe,” War said.

  “I’ll feel better once we’re home.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  10

  War parked the truck behind the homestead and hopped out with Emma hot on his heels. Strangely, a part of him was stunned they’d succeeded. Prior to the heist, he’d been imagining the many ways everything could go wrong. But they’d made a clean getaway, with only a few of his wolves remaining behind to dispose of the bodies. The last thing they needed was word to reach General Taylor.

  The rest of the pack fanned out behind him, their amber gazes locked expectantly on him. Their thoughts were loud but consistent. Every single one of them wanted to know what supplies they’d pilfered.

  War popped open the back and peered inside. Crates upon crates lined the sides of the truck, all nailed shut. He leaped into the truck bed, then one by one, ripped off the wooden lids, brandishing more weaponry that he’d ever expected. A mix of automatics, semi-automatics, and shotguns, plus enough bullets to obliterate his pack. With his people trapped in wolf form, the weapons were useless to them, but any weapon not in the hands of their enemies was a win.

  “That’s a lot of guns,” Emma whispered behind him.

  War nodded and continued his silent inventory. “Makes me wonder what they have back in the fort.”

  “I never saw the armory. General Taylor kept that part locked down for our own safety.”

  “Understandably.” War considered the size of this shipment. “I think it’s safe to assume he has an entire arsenal available to him.”

  “Maybe not.” Emma breezed past him, her fingers tracing the barrels. “Maybe this shipment was meant to replenish his supplies.”

  As much as War wanted to believe that, it seemed unlikely. After everything Emma had told him about the fort and the general, he had a feeling Taylor was a very capable man. Too intelligent to allow his munitions to deplete. And to protect a fort of five thousand people, he would need a lot of weaponry.

  If for one moment he thought they’d be able to successfully sneak into the fort and destroy the armory, he would have done it. But there were too many soldiers and so few of them. And his people had a major disadvantage. The second a single person spotted a wolf, mass hysteria would break out. War wanted to defend his people, not slaughter innocent humans.

  Rubbing his brow, he turned and studied his pack. They stood by so raptly, their gazes trained on him. They trusted him to keep them safe tomorrow, to win the fight with minimal losses. But it was hard to feel confident when staring at a damn truck full of weaponry.

  “We need to be smart tomorrow,” War said aloud for Emma’s benefit, knowing his people could understand.

  “We know the land—our land,” Ice responded. He lifted his head proudly, displaying a patch of black fur on his throat. “Their weapons can’t hurt us.”

  “They can hurt us, and they will. But we wolves are excellent hunters. If we take them by surprise, we might yet stand a chance. We need to prove to the general and his men that we will defend our land by any means necessary.”

  His wolves barked in response.

  “We’ll show them what it means to come up against the Pinelands Pack!” War thrust a fist into the air. “And we will win!”

  The barks turned into a chorus of howls.

  “For now, rest up and prepare for tomorrow. Snow, I’ll leave you to handle the perimeter. Take whoever you need.”

  Snow dipped his head respectfully, then turned and gestured toward the tree line. As one, the pack dispersed, quickly vanishing into the surrounding woods.

  War turned back to the shipment and shook his head. “We need to assume Taylor will be armed tomorrow. My people can heal most injuries. But a shot to the heart or the head will kill them. Did you happen to hear anything about what they’re planning?”

  “No,” Emma said. “They just mentioned taking back the woods. They’re mostly former military, I know that much.”

  “So, they’ll use that knowledge to their advantage.”

  “And they’ve all fought wolves before.” Emma placed her hand against the small of his back and sat on the edge of a crate. “They have a year of experience fighting werewolves.”

  “Then we need to adapt,” War mused. “Before we were hunting them down like animals.” War turned and peered into the woods with a frown. “But things have changed. So, instead, we’ll strategically place wolves throughout the woods, hidden among the trees. We know how to blend in and stay hidden. Taylor will expect our entire pack to attack as one unit, because as wolves, that’s what we did. But we’re not just wolves anymore.”

  “Take them out one at a time,” Emma said, finishing his thought for him.

  “It might work. Wait for the right opportunity, then strike swiftly and silently. And we have one advantage over the general.”

  “What’s that?”

  War tapped his head. “We can communicate with one another without being heard.” A sense of confidence swept over War, and a slow grin spread across his face. His inner wolf woke at the thought of hunting, eager to spill a little blood—but War had spent years tamping back that urge. “We’ve got this.”

  Emma leaned in and rested her head against his side. “I have no doubts.”

  Chuckling, War leaned down and brushed a kiss against her head. “Of course you don’t.”

  She laughed with him, then together, they hopped out of the back of the truck.

  Emma looped around to the front and grabbed the medical kit and their packs. “We should go see what supplies we managed to steal.”

  War took the packs from her, slung them over his shoulders, then wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her close. “We make a good team.”

  “Damn straight,” she said,
still laughing.

  * * *

  War tossed a few logs into the dusty fireplace, then reached for the flint he’d found in Emma’s supply bag. They’d also inventoried a paltry selection of canned food, a few articles of clothing, some survival gear, and medical supplies. Knife in hand, he struck the magnesium flint until a spark finally ignited. He quickly tossed kindling on top of the embers, then slowly built up the fire until he had it crackling away in the living room.

  “So handy,” Emma teased.

  War glanced over his shoulder to find her stretched out on a large blanket they’d scavenged from the upstairs hall closet. The family here must have left in a rush, considering the things they’d left behind. At least, that was his hope. He didn’t want to consider the other option.

  “Well, I was in the Boy Scouts,” War quipped. “Got my sewing badge too.”

  Her eyes sparkled with humor. “Did you really?”

  “No.” Laughing, he approached the blanket and sank on his knees next to Emma. “I was too busy running through the woods, learning to shift and hunt and all that fun stuff.”

  “Then where’d you learn to make a fire?”

  “It’s not hard,” he said, shrugging. “I’ve slept in the woods many a night. Fur keeps us warm, but fire lets us cook the dead rabbit.”

  Emma burst out laughing. “Yeah, I definitely prefer cooked rabbit to raw.”

  “Who doesn’t?”

  With a soft smile, she reached out and grazed his jaw. “Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

  “Not nervous. More…apprehensive?”

  He took her hand and ran his lips along the tips of her fingers. She drew in a soft breath and licked her lips. Thanks to his elevated senses, he heard her heartbeat quicken.

  “My people are trusting me to lead them through this safely. And I refuse to lose any more wolves to the humans. The woods are our home. The fort is theirs.”

  “Well, the woods used to be their home too,” Emma murmured.

  War frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Sighing, Emma sat up and faced him. “You’re talking like they’re invading your country.”

  “They are.”

  “But they aren’t. Before the curse, this was someone’s house. Someone’s farm. Fort Allegiance used to be Forked River, New Jersey. Taylor just wants his life back, and he can’t do that with a feral werewolf pack surrounding the fort.”

  War’s frown deepened. “You’re taking his side in this?”

  She reached up and cupped his cheek. “I’m not taking anyone’s side. I just think it’s important that we remember there used to be a time when werewolves and humans weren’t killing each other.”

  “That’s in the past.”

  “A past that could easily turn into the future. What about a truce?”

  “What?”

  “A truce with General Taylor. You haven’t tried talking to him yet. He doesn’t know that you’re human again.”

  “But, I’m not,” War argued. “Not completely, anyway. I can’t leave you. If I do, I turn back into a wolf again.”

  “I know. But you’re not the same wolf you were a few nights ago. Regardless of what form you take, you’re yourself again. You have your humanity back. Taylor can’t argue with that. And your pack has definitely regained their ability to think. You’re no longer feral animals bent on killing anything that crosses their paths.”

  “And you think the general would believe this?”

  “You can show him,” Emma urged. “All I’m saying is why not consider it? Maybe you and Taylor could establish a truce. We could spread awareness, assure everyone that there’s a way to save all your people. For the world to maybe gain back some of what it’s lost.”

  “That’s a lot of maybe’s,” War countered. “And you forget, to even start this process, the wolf must find their mate. How can we guarantee that everyone out there will find his or her mate? And until they do, they’re still wolves.”

  Emma sighed and leaned back against the sofa. “I think it’s worth a try. Maybe it won’t work for other packs and forts. But it could work for us. Why kill each other when there’s a chance we can all live?”

  War considered her suggestion. It didn’t surprise him that Emma wanted to push for peace. It was who she was. She loved with her whole heart and grieved just as fiercely. Her empathy was something he’d always considered a strength, but in this case, he wasn’t so sure.

  “I can’t risk it, Em. Too many humans hate us.”

  “You haven’t given them a chance.”

  “And what if they betray us? What if, instead of welcoming us into their home, they slaughter us? No, I can’t risk that. Tomorrow, the general and his men will infiltrate the woods, and my people and I will handle it.”

  Emma shook her head. “I think it’s a mistake.”

  “I know,” War said. He bent down and kissed her cheek. “I understand where you’re coming from, but I can’t risk the lives of my wolves. I can’t trust Taylor won’t betray us.”

  “Someone has to take the first step, War.”

  War sat next to Emma and drew her to his chest. Thankfully, she came willingly with a soft sigh. He would have hated for her to be mad at him on what could be their last night together. Neither had spoken the words aloud, but both knew he could die tomorrow. He had to take a stand, though. Had to show the humans they would defend their territory. The humans would never allow them into their fort. Not when a single bite could cause another outbreak. Not while his wolves were still trapped in animal form. There were too many risks. And somehow, War knew Taylor would never agree to a truce.

  “Come here,” War said.

  Emma rose above him and sat on his lap, her long blond tresses hanging over her shoulder. With a soft hum, War slid his fingers through her hair and pulled her toward him. Their lips met in a tender kiss.

  War pulled back and brushed her hair back from her face. “I need you to listen to me for a second and let me get it all out before you respond.”

  Emma frowned, but nodded.

  A half-smile tugged at his lips. “Anything can happen tomorrow night. My people will do everything they can to win this fight, but I must be realistic. Bullets trump fangs. If the humans win tomorrow, I want you to use that tunnel to sneak back into the fort, find Luna, and live your life as best you can.”

  Emma’s frown turned to a scowl. “What? War, no—”

  “Promise me,” he urged, “you’ll try to be happy, even without me.”

  She scrambled off his lap and stormed over to the fireplace, her arms wrapped around her waist. “Why are you saying this? Why can’t you…” She drew in a deep breath. “You’re not going to die tomorrow.”

  “But there’s a chance I might. And I can’t stand the thought of you grieving for the rest of your life. Yesterday, you told me you were fine being alone if I wasn’t with you. Don’t do that to yourself. Find someone else. The connection might not be the same. But it’ll be something. And something is better than nothing.”

  She spun on her heel, shadows darkening her face. “What if our roles were reversed? Would you move on without me?”

  Not in a thousand years, but he couldn’t tell her that.

  “See?” she beamed triumphantly, clearly reading his expression. “Don’t tell me to move on when I know you wouldn’t.”

  “But you’re not a werewolf,” he said. “Werewolves are a one and done sort of beast. Sometimes someone is lucky enough to find two, but it’s rare.”

  “And you think humans are any different?” She strode back to the blanket and knelt in front of him. “I don’t want to be with anyone else, War. Period. End of discussion.”

  He gave a lengthy sigh but nodded. He’d said his bit. If the worst came to pass, she’d either do as he asked or not. There was nothing more he could do.

  Cupping her cheeks, he brought his forehead to hers and let his eyes flutter closed. He reveled in the feel of her body pressed against his and basked
in her sweet scent. This was the memory he’d take with him tomorrow. Just her and the crackling fire. And regardless of tomorrow’s outcome, he was simply happy to have experienced this moment with her.

  “I know I’ve said this a lot the past two days, but I love you.”

  Her hands covered his before she leaned in for a kiss. “And I love you. Always.”

  “Always.”

  Hopefully, always would last forever.

  11

  The day passed quickly as they prepared for the battle. Tension was high among the pack members, and while Emma couldn’t speak directly to them in her mind like War could, she felt their nerves. They trusted War, though, and because he was alpha, they would follow him wherever he led. War had asked her to make a detailed list of the weapons. While he’d stashed some guns around the homestead, most of them remained in the crates. The two of them could only use so many guns at one time.

  She’d found a patch of wild blueberries, which had been a nice addition to the meat, and fully explored the bedrooms, finding more clothes, including the black yoga pants and dark T-shirt she was now wearing. While War sat on the couch and worked on the plan of attack, she’d used a rag and bucket of water to clean the kitchen. It felt oddly normal—the two of them working side by side for the pack and just being near each other. Reminiscent of a year earlier when he’d brought her to his home and told her about the history of the pack and what it meant to be an alpha. It wasn’t just about being the top dog; it was about being a leader that the pack trusted. An alpha who put himself first wasn’t worth his salt, and eventually, the pack would splinter. War followed in the footsteps of his ancestors, choosing to be a strong and fair leader, ruthless when necessary to protect his people, but worthy of their devotion.

  His hands slipped around her waist, and he pulled her back against him with a soft growl.

  “You’re looking very serious, Em,” he murmured into her ear, nuzzling a heated path down her throat.

  Her body responded immediately, heat flooding through her, heart pounding out a swift rhythm in anticipation, skin tingling.