Untamed Fate (Magic Side: Wolf Bound Book 2)

by Veronica Douglas

  hopefully, the pack would follow my lead.

  All the LaSalles have to do is not fuck this up.

  The warehouse doors slammed open, and Casey LaSalle stepped through

  like a cowboy entering a saloon.

  My eyes went wide. He had a bandolier of wolfsbane cannisters draped

  around his chest and a couple dangling from his side. Half a dozen

  werewolves spun around and extended their claws. Menacing snarls echoed

  throughout the vast room.

  Casey thrust his hands out to the sides. “Nobody better fucking try to eat

  me! I’m here to help.”

  The fucking lunatic.

  A tsunami of rage roared through me, and it took every ounce of strength

  not to shift. I wasn’t the only one. Every wolf in the place was pissed.

  “Everybody stand down!” I roared and pushed my alpha presence through

  the room, trying to maintain control over my pack as well as my own wolf.

  I spun on Savannah. “Talk to your idiot cousin. Now.”

  Her face was crimson, and the scents of shame and embarrassment

  poured off her. At least all the pack would smell it too and know how she

  felt.

  Savannah rushed over and hissed at the moron. “Are you insane, Casey?

  You look like a terrorist!”

  He slowly lowered his hands. “I’m just coming prepared.”

  “God. Please try not to start a fight. You’re here to help. We’re all on the

  same side, you idiot,” she snapped, her voice cutting like a blade.

  Casey huffed.

  Seeing her upbraid him in public calmed my wolf, and half a smile

  twitched at the corner of my lips. I tamped it down and set my face with a

  stern, grim expression.

  I strode over, trying to use my power to soothe and calm the pack. There

  was no hiding the fury in my eyes. It took every ounce of strength I had to

  keep my voice steady, and I pushed my magic toward him to force him to

  calm the fuck down, too.

  “Thank you for coming,” I growled. “None of my people will do anything

  to hurt you or provoke you, I promise. Just don’t do anything stupid. Like

  walking around here with a bandolier of wolfsbane.”

  Casey glared back at me. “Fine. But I know you’re using that alpha

  voodoo on me to make my brain soft, so I’ll be watching for any funny

  business.”

  “So will we.”

  Casey nodded and dialed his phone. “Okay, you guys can come in.”

  Two sorcerers Casey’s age walked into the room, and Savannah tensed.

  The scent of her hatred boiled up, and she spun toward me, as her eyes had

  turned yellow and her fangs dropped. I could tell a full shift was coming, and

  her cousin was standing two feet behind her.

  Help me, her golden eyes begged.

  I touched her arm and pushed a wave of power into her to stop the shift

  dead in its tracks.

  Her teeth retracted and eyes cleared, and I breathed a deep sigh of relief.

  She had a bit of blood on her lips. I pointed to my own, and she wiped her

  mouth with the back of her wrist.

  Her anger wasn’t gone, just repressed. Like mine.

  “Who are those assholes?” I snarled as two pricks approached. If they’d

  done anything to Savannah, I’d break their backs over the bleachers.

  “Two jerks I know from the Indies.” She spun on her cousin. “What the

  hell are they doing here, Casey? I thought you weren’t trying to start a fight.”

  He shrugged. “Penance. For insulting my cousin at the bonfire. They’ll

  behave. Anyway, I needed help, and I wasn’t going to bring Mom.”

  Bonfire? Had they triggered Savannah’s first shift? I’d hang their corpses

  from the dockside cranes.

  Savannah turned on me, her eyes wide and pleading. “I think I’ve got

  this, Jaxson. Walk away.”

  She knew. The scents of hatred and murder coiled around me, plain for

  anyone to see. This was the curse of having a mate. I’d do anything to protect

  her, even murder two sorcerers who were offering to help our pack.

  The pack had to come first. Savannah couldn’t be my mate. We’d find a

  way to fix this.

  I cursed, reined in my wolf and emotions, and buried them deep. But I did

  step up in Casey’s face. “Wolfsbane stays outside, or you all stay outside.

  Not negotiable. You have my guarantee of protection.”

  He grimaced, then unslung the bandolier and handed it to one of his

  goons. “Put this in my ride.”

  “All of it.”

  He unclipped the canisters on his hips and passed them over. I could

  smell he still had some hidden somewhere, but I sensed this was as much of a

  concession as I was going to get.

  “What do you have to do to make the circle?” Savannah asked him.

  “Well, we’ve got to etch sigils around this whole warehouse. Even with

  three of us, it’s going to take all day. We’ll make it as big as we can, but it’ll

  have to be really simple for us to get it done. It’ll only protect against dream

  intrusion, but not demon attacks or spells. And I’m afraid it won’t get rid of

  fleas or prevent rabies, either.”

  She reeled back and slapped him hard across the jaw. My wolf leapt in

  my chest. It was perhaps the sexiest thing I’d ever seen her do.

  He staggered back and rubbed his chin. “Holy shit, Savy, I was joking.

  But dang, you pack a mean wallop. Are you on ’roids or something? Might

  explain the moods…”

  “You are a complete asshole, Casey.”

  “Sorry.” He pointed to her I Hit Like A Girl T-shirt. “Guess I was

  warned.”

  She stepped up, and a strange power emanated from her. She fixed him

  with a hard look. “You need to cut the funny business. Just look around. By

  tonight, this place is going to be crammed with werewolves. Mothers and

  fathers with frightened children. Families like yours. You’re the only one

  who can make sure they sleep safely tonight and the only one who can

  prevent them from never waking up again.”

  Pride welled up in my chest. Everyone in the room was watching this

  showdown. They’d seen her take a stand and plead for their safety.

  That was something. As much bad blood as there was in the room,

  everyone here knew we were depending on the little prick’s spell tonight.

  What stunned me was that amid all the scents of mistrust and resentment,

  there was a flicker of hope.

  My people, getting hope from a LaSalle. Inconceivable.

  Casey nodded, pondering Savannah’s words. “Right…hero stuff. I can do

  that.”

  His gaze panned around the room, measuring the mistrust and expectation

  in the gathered faces. It paused on a she-wolf’s backside as she bent over to

  pick up a large box of supplies and then heaved it effortlessly onto her

  shoulder.

  His eyes dilated, and I could smell his sudden scent of… gods, no.

  My claws slowly extended as Casey marched off to see if she needed

  help. “That lunatic is going to get the teeth knocked out of his face,” I

  muttered.

  Savannah crossed her arms. “Probably.”

  Revolting. A LaSalle.

  But then again, one of them was currently my fucking mate. Not for long.

  Savannah opened her mouth to speak, but my phone r
ang. Neve Cross. I

  picked up. “Tell me you’ve got a lead.”

  “I’ve tracked down the author of the book. A witch named S.L.

  Delamont. She lives on the outskirts of Magic’s Bend,” Neve said.

  A witch. Better than a sorcerer or warlock. I worked with witches from

  time to time. They lived in covens, which were sort of like packs.

  “What do we know about her?”

  Neve sighed. “Not much, unfortunately, and I know quite a few folks out

  there. Apparently, she’s a very private person and lives alone. She even has a

  girl named Molly do all her errands for her and never goes into town. I tried

  tracking down the girl, but I didn’t have a last name.”

  My concern began to build. Witches that lived alone could be wildcards.

  Some were perfectly normal. Others weren’t. They were like rogue wolves.

  Some were natural loners, seeking solitude in the wild. Others might be

  antisocial or rejected by their covens for participating in unsavory activities.

  “That it?” I asked. There had to be more.

  Neve hesitated. “Pretty much. She has some sort of side hustle, I don’t

  know what it is, but I don’t think it’s legal because no one I talked to was

  sure. Pretty much everyone used the same words. Loner. Peculiar. Powerful.”

  I didn’t like the way this was going.

  “Okay. Do you have a phone number for her?”

  “Nope. She doesn’t use electronics,” Neve noted.

  I sighed. “Thanks for everything. We’ll head out that way in a couple

  hours.”

  “Need backup?”

  “Let’s wait and see what we’re facing. Maybe she’ll be a sweet lady

  living in a gingerbread house.”

  Neve laughed. “If she tries to stuff you in her oven, I can get there fast.”

  “Thanks.” I hung up.

  Savannah, who had most certainly been listening in with her wolf

  hearing, narrowed her eyes. “You sound concerned.”

  “Maybe. The author is a witch living in isolation. Nobody knows much

  about her. It could be a bad situation.”

  She scowled. “Sounds to me like you have a preconceived social

  prejudice against powerful women who choose to live their lives alone.”

  I glared. “No, I don’t. If she were a mage, it wouldn’t be a red flag. But

  witches draw their power from their covens and tend to congregate with each

  other. Essentially, like wolves, they live in packs. And I trust that mindset.”

  Savannah scoffed. “So it’s just a werewolf bias, then. That makes it all

  okay.”

  “Witches living in isolation don’t have a coven to draw their magic from,

  so they often turn to outside sources for power. Demons. Devils. Dark beings.

  Piecing that bit of knowledge together with the fact that the woman doesn’t

  like outsiders and wrote a little book called The Grimoire of Nightmares,

  which might very well be bound with human skin— that is what makes me

  concerned.”

  “Oh.”

  33

  Savannah

  Dark images filled my mind. A lone hovel beneath the trees. An old

  woman with sharp fangs and long, cruel fingers, cackling softly to herself.

  That couldn’t be what we were dealing with, could it?

  She wrote a grimoire. Possibly using human skin. How many humans

  would that take?

  My stomach twisted a little. Perhaps looking up the author of a book used

  to summon nightmarish creatures and invade people’s dreams was not, in

  fact, a good idea. Why couldn’t things ever be easy?

  “How do we get there?” I asked, dreading the answer.

  “We’ll take a portal to Magic’s Bend. It’s another magical city in

  Oregon.”

  Damn it.

  “Or we could take a plane,” I suggested, hoping against hope he’d bite at

  the suggestion.

  Jaxson wasn’t paying much attention. Instead, he was looking around the

  room and ignoring my input. “No time. We’ll head out in half an hour. Hang

  tight until then—I need to make sure everything is running smoothly here.”

  With that, he stepped away to deal with logistics, leaving me to watch the

  bustle of activity. Casey and his team were busy inscribing runes in the floor

  of the warehouse. Every so often, they yelled at workers to back off and not

  step on their work. It was all posturing. The werewolves were obviously

  steering clear of both the magic ring and the sorcerers, and I could smell their

  mistrust and trepidation.

  I glanced over at one of Jaxson’s goons, who met my eyes.

  “They’re trying to help,” I offered feebly.

  He blinked. “Asking a LaSalle to cast a protection spell is like asking a

  serial killer to sharpen your knives while you take a shower.”

  The goon walked away to a part of the warehouse that was distinctly less

  filled with LaSalles.

  And yet, they were letting Casey cast his spell. That spoke volumes. What

  Jaxson commanded, they did.

  I had to shimmy closer to the bleachers to let a couple of burly wolves by,

  who were loaded down with water, food, and blankets. It was like preparation

  for a natural disaster. People had already started arriving, even though

  Casey’s circle wouldn’t be done for hours.

  Sounds of children’s laughter echoed through the warehouse. A mother

  slapped her hands together as she played games with her kids in the

  bleachers. It was only noon. Was she here in hopes of keeping them safe

  while they took a nap?

  The enormous tragedy of the situation overwhelmed me. It was madness.

  We had to find a way to stop Kahanov.

  Footsteps approached behind me, and a vitriolic scent filled the air. The

  hair on my neck stood on end, and my fingernails began to itch. I spun.

  Regina, Jaxson’s second.

  “So, you’re one of us now,” she snarled, her voice brimming with

  disdain.

  “I’m not,” I snapped.

  “Oh, yes, you are. You have claws, fangs, and turn into a wolf. More to

  the point, Jaxson has claimed you for the pack, so you’re one of ours, no

  matter if you or I like it.”

  Jaxson had claimed me for the pack? Irritation simmered under my skin.

  That fucker.

  Her eyes burned with barely controlled fury, and her voice quaked with

  rage and resentment. “You know this is all your fault, right?”

  She tilted her chin toward a werewolf who was taping pictures of the

  sleepers on the wall underneath a string of cut-out words that read, In our

  hearts and prayers. “This mess is all because of you.”

  I swallowed hard as shame and guilt pressed in on all sides, and heat

  flushed my neck.

  Did she think I didn’t realize that? I was painfully aware of the situation.

  Jaxson, the pack, my family—everyone was at risk because for some reason,

  a half-mad sorcerer wanted to cut a part of my soul out.

  Bile rose in my throat. I’d known about this world for two weeks. I’d

  turned into a wolf two days ago. I couldn’t control my wolf or my magic and

  was desperate for answers, and yet, this bitch wouldn’t give me a break.

  My wolf strained at my chest, and my fangs shot out. She needs a bite in

  the ass.

  I turned on Regina and bit off each word l
ike the strike of a knife. “Yes.

  This is because of me. So why don’t you just turn me over to the sorcerer?

  You’d solve the pack’s problem and get rid of me all in one fell swoop. I’m

  sick of your reproach, so either try to take me or fuck off.”

  Regina snarled and shoved my shoulder firmly.

  Pain erupted through my fingertips as my claws shot out. It took every

  ounce of control to rein my wolf in. I clenched my teeth and glared, ready for

  her to push things one step further.

  “You don’t get it, do you, Savannah?” Regina growled. “Clearly, neither

  you nor the sorcerer has any idea what it really means to be part of a pack.

  It’s inconceivable that we’d turn over one of our own. Even someone we

  despise.”

  What was she saying?

  I couldn’t help my lips from pulling back in a snarl. “I have a hard time

  believing that you wouldn’t dump me at the drop of a hat to get your pack

  members back. Do you really value a dirty LaSalle girl above them?”

  Regina half-laughed. “You need to retrain your brain. You’re a wolf and

  a pack member now. What you don’t get is that we’re wolves, not sheep. A

  pack, not a flock. We don’t let outsiders prey on the weak and then stand idly

  by to watch. We fight to protect our own. I may not like you, but I’m not

  going to give you up to a terrorist.”

  I stepped up in her face. “If that’s so, then why are you giving me shit?

  Just to make me feel guilty and more miserable than I already am?”

  Regina’s gaze didn’t waver from mine, but she pointed to the pictures of

  the sleepers. “This is all your fault, and that makes it your job to fix it. Not

  Jaxson’s. Not the pack’s. You. Do what’s right.”

  I couldn’t help but look at the wall of pictures, and guilt dragged me

  down like a heavy iron chain. All those people.

  Jaxson wouldn’t give me up, nor would the pack—but there was an

  elegant solution.

  My stomach tumbled as things added up, and I dug my claws into my

  palms. “So what, you want me to just give myself up? Because Jaxson won’t

  hand me over?”

  Her eyes were hard and unwavering. “I don’t care what you do—just end

  this without getting Jaxson or anyone else from the pack killed. This

  nightmare won’t stop until the sorcerer’s dead or you’re in his hands. Do the

  math and figure it out.”

  My vision blurred as tears of rage filled my eyes. It was all too much. The