by Jade White
The others murmured their agreement.
While the words meant a lot to Devan, he also knew words could be empty. Actions were all that mattered. When the next battle happened—it was only a matter of time—would they fight alongside them or turn around and run away? That they hadn’t reacted strong suggested they might have known already. His gaze sought out Greg. His arms were crossed, a satisfied smile on his face. So far, he had proven himself. Hopefully, he would be there for them when they needed him.
Kyla motioned the females over to her. All of them, including her siblings, approached. They shifted their heads and sniffed each other, feeling them out.
Smart. She was intelligent and funny and brave despite her fear. He shared that fear.
Once he and the wolves and coyotes seemed to get a sense of each other, he herded them into a group. Unsurprisingly, the wolves stuck together, and likewise the coyotes, but at least no fangs had been bared.
“We need to move and find a safer location.” He eyed them each in turn. “We need to heal.”
Maria stepped forward. “We shouldn’t go too far though.” She eyed Kyla’s belly.
Four weeks, maybe less. All the time they had until another joined their numbers. His chest swelled.
“Yes, not too far, and not toward the mountains.” Both wolf and coyote packs roamed there.
It took some time to find a possible location, and then they set off. Every four or five days they set out for a new place, not wanting to grow too comfortable. Other than a minor spat, the two species were living together rather well.
Two weeks after they left the abandoned store, a storm came upon them. Their line of four cars halted on the shoulder, the rain gushing in such a downpour that visibility was impossible, even with high beams on. Devan shifted his eyes to his wolf’s, but that did not help much either.
Devan, and Kyla and the wolves, had healed during this stretch, but his shoulder had forecasted the storm. He rotated his shoulder a few times. “I’m going to take a look at the road.”
“There’s no need.” Kyla shook her head. “We’ll just wait it out.”
He gnashed his teeth. Sitting here, waiting… It made him anxious. “You wait here.” A quick kiss and he climbed out.
Something hard slammed into his shoulder. He hadn’t even the time to close the door behind him before the attack. On impulse, he shifted. If the assailant was human, he would have to figure something out, but as soon as he claimed his wolf snout, he knew his foe was a wolf.
And not just any wolf, but Warrick.
Lightning flashed, illuminating the hatred in Warrick’s orange eyes. He stood on two legs and swatted.
Devan jumped to the side and howled. Doors slammed, but the answering howls were cut off by a crash of thunder. The storm worsened around them as wolves and coyotes fought wolves. All Devan could hope was that none of his pack attacked each other by mistake because of the storm. Although he wished Kyla would sit the fight out, he knew she wouldn’t. Besides, if Warrick had followed them all the way to Minnesota, he may have already learned about Kyla and her true nature. And if he hadn’t, he would learn now.
Thinking of her fueled Devan, and he attacked Warrick with a wild savagery. Blood filled his mouth—his or his brother’s? He wasn’t certain. All he knew was that the rain pounded him as much as his brother rained blows on him, and he gave as much if not more than he received. A ball of fur and claws and teeth, he launched at his brother again and again.
Another howl sounded in the wild of the nighttime storm. This one made Devan’s hackle rise in a new level of fear.
He recognized that howl. Once before he had heard it.
It belonged to Kyla’s father. And he sounded close, very close.
Devan barely had time to block a blow from his brother when Kyla’s father launched on top of him.
THE FINAL CHAPTER
In the chaos, rain and wind swirling around them, soaking them, beating them down, coyotes and wolves attacked coyotes and wolves. Their mixed-breed pack was taking on two packs simultaneously. Her father had brought along everyone this time, and from the sheer number of wolves, Kyla had to guess Devan’s brother had done the same.
But—she dodged out of the way of fangs—she noticed some of the other wolves were fighting against her father’s coyotes. Maybe because of the confusion of the darkness and the storm, or maybe just because the two species hated each other that much. In any case, she hoped that would help their pack some, because they needed all the help they could get.
Someone brushed against her, and she stiffened. One of her and Devan’s wolves. He nodded to her, and, incredibly, she relaxed. Trust. She trusted not only Devan, but his wolves too. When had that happened? It didn’t matter. Her focus had to remain on staying alive and surviving the night until the sun rose. And then all day tomorrow and the next night and so on until the baby came and even beyond that. Her life, Devan’s, their baby’s… that’s what she had to live for, to fight for.
To die for.
That her father had found her, that they had launched their attack on the same night as Warrick… were the two packs working together to bring them down?
Stop thinking. Start fighting.
One of her aunts snarled. To think she had once really enjoyed Aunt Jean’s rabbit stew. A part of her hoped this wasn’t personal, that it stemmed from the mixed-breed child she was carrying, but even that didn’t make her feel any less betrayed.
From years of rich cooking, her aunt had grown a little soft and slow, and Kyla was easily able to get the upper hand on her. By then, a wolf came over, sniffing at her aunt’s heels and attacking her. A foreign wolf, and Kyla hesitated, torn between old loyalties. But then lightning flashed and she spied claws coming toward her, aiming for her stomach, and her mind was made up. Her aunt had chosen her side, and Kyla had hers. While she hoped her aunt wouldn’t die tonight, she couldn’t defend herself and her baby and her aunt.
Kyla swatted back, the sound of claws clashing screeching in her ears almost louder than the roaring thunder. She pressed the attack when pain overwhelmed her, not from an attack, but still, her belly grew hard. A contraction.
A fake one, one to ready her body for the birth in two weeks. Nothing more.
She hoped.
The next one had her doubling over, and the wolf descended on her. She barely had time to maneuver so that his fangs avoided her throat. Another wolf and a coyote approached. She could smell them but only saw them in the flashes of lightning. They attacked together, beating her, aiming blows toward her stomach or her throat and nowhere else.
If they weren’t able to kill her, they were trying to kill the babe instead.
Rage burned within her at the realization, and she fought as if possessed. Claws and teeth and fangs, and then blood filled her mouth. Once the three slightly backed away, she bounded to the nearest car and jumped onto the trunk and then the roof. From there, she surveyed the battleground as best she could.
Devan was fighting a huge wolf and her father, although both of his foes also took turns snapping at each other. Twenty smaller battles were taking place in and about the cars and the street, not all of them involving her people. That was their only saving grace.
A contraction, this one stronger than the others, gripped her so hard she found herself falling. She landed on her paws, but barely, and she was panting heavily. The rest of her body felt numb.
A ring of coyotes and wolves encircled her. Snarling, she forced herself to stand and face them. Then she realized all of them were theirs. Only Devan was missing—still battling the two alphas. Rain drenched her, but her legs felt suddenly too wet for just the storm. That babe. It’s coming. She wouldn’t be able to fight to defend herself.
*
Blood had to coat him more than rainwater. He had felt fangs on him too many times tonight, and once Warrick had even had them on his throat, but Devan had clawed Warrick’s eye. Ever since, his brother had only been able to use his other ey
e, which meant skewed his depth perception. To combat it, his brother launched twice as many blows, and many still hit their mark, but his teeth never neared Devan’s throat again.
As the battle wore on, Devan’s assumption that Kyla’s father had held back during the other fight proved true. The coyote might be smaller than him, but his reach was decent and the strength of each blow surprised him. Devan held his ground as best he could, but he couldn’t help being annoyed that not one of his wolves or coyotes attempted to help him. This wasn’t a challenge battle. This was war with total annihilation on the line.
But then, during a quick succession of lightning strikes, he spied as sight that left him both infuriated and paralyzed with fear. Kyla lay crumpled in a ball, but at least he had found the rest of their pack. They surrounded her, fighting off their enemies, protecting her, keeping her safe. If he wasn’t so frightened for her, he might’ve felt proud of his pack.
Although his legs were worn from the battle, he found the strength to launch himself onto Warrick’s back. He jumped onto Kyla’s father’s head and then onto the roof of the nearest car. With ease, no longer feeling the pain and aches from blows and bites and slashes, he leaped down and entered the fray around Kyla.
How many wolves, how many coyotes he fought, he didn’t know. The storm continued, the street now a river of bloodied water. Even the other two alphas came over and attacked not just him but his pack.
The final stand. Why they had wounded some and even killed a few, they had lost some on their side so the numbers remained on their enemies’ favor. At times, though, Warrick’s wolves and her father’s coyotes attacked each other, he was glad to see.
By the time the numbers were finally even—ten on ten—the circle surrounding Kyla had broken some. Devan rushed to her side. Her father ran alongside him. Devan nipped at his side, but her father didn’t slow down and launched at his daughter, teeth gleaming in the dimming darkness as dawn neared.
No. Kyla was holding her belly. Although she appeared mostly unharmed, Devan knew something was wrong. She didn’t even react as her father almost descended on her. Devan burst into a higher gear and reached Kyla first. He whirled around and accepted the blow—the death bite—geared for Kyla. As if from afar, he felt the teeth ripping, tearing, felt blood gushing down onto his chest.
Kyla screamed. In the blink of an eye, she was human again. Her sisters shifted as well, falling to her side.
The baby was coming, he realized. He was dying as his child was being born. Gradually, he realized the teeth and the pressure was gone. Through dimming vision, he spied that his wolves and coyotes were reforming the circle around him and Kyla and her sisters, the other alphas forced outside.
Devan converted to his human form. It was easier to apply pressure to his wound that way. With one hand at his neck, he limply crawled over to Kyla. Maria or maybe Viola focused on him, lips moving but he couldn’t hear her words. She ripped her clothes and used it to soak up his blood.
“How…” He could hardly talk.
“She’s losing too much blood. Viola, come here. Push down on her belly… now.” Paula was positioned between Kyla’s legs.
Kyla screamed.
From deep inside, Devan forced himself to move closer to her head. “I’m here. Don’t… I’m… Okay…”
Kyla turned her head to him, but her eyes were closed. She had passed out.
Dimly, Devan realized the wetness on his cheeks were tears and not rain. The storm was dying too. With every heartbeat, he was losing more and more blood.
“Again,” Paula demanded.
Devan closed his eyes. When he was next aware, Maria was handing him the baby. A girl. He almost didn’t want to touch her. She was too perfect and precious, but she was covered in goo and blood, so he didn’t mind trying to hold her. At least he’d have this before his final sleep claimed him.
“Blood,” Paula murmured.
“What’s going on?”
Paula glanced at him, the fear in her eyes visible despite his blurred vision.
“What’s—”
“She needs blood and now. If not…”
“Give her mine.”
“Devan…”
“Do it.” He glanced around at everyone. They were all injured too. No one could easily donate blood. Might as well be from him. He already had an easy access point.
Marco stepped forward. Everyone was in human form, even the other packs. No one was fighting, just watching. Tension remained high, though, even Devan could feel it.
“I’m an EMT. I can set up a makeshift…”
Devan faded in and out of consciousness as Marco established a means to transform Devan’s blood to Kyla. Devan managed to force himself to ask if Kyla was all right.
Someone neared him where he was lying on the street. “She’s fine.”
He barely nodded and closed his eyes again, surrendering everything. Kyla was all right, he had held his baby, what more could he want?
*
A month had passed since the showdown, and Melinda wasn’t anywhere close to sleeping through the night, but she was finally down for a nap. For a moment, Kyla stared down at her child. She had her blond hair but Devan’s dark eyes. Only time would tell if she would be a wolf or a coyote when she shifted, or some kind of hybrid, but that didn’t matter.
Kyla kissed her fingers and touched them to the babe’s forehead before going to check on Devan. He was slowly recovering his strength. When the two packs had seen how far he had been willing to go to save her, how far they all were willing to go to fight and defend themselves, the others backed off. Maybe they would come back one day, but each week that went by without a problem gave Kyla hope.
Hope the others shared because the ones who had survived—they had lost four of the wolves Devan had fought so hard to gain—were talking about wanting to build houses in the clearing they had claimed. It was near enough to a city that they could find work. A home for us all. The thought pleased her, and she grinned, at peace with the world.
Devan stirred when she sat on the edge of the bed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Kyla.” His smile moved her almost to tears. “What’s wrong?”
“You… you almost…” She shook her head, tying to hide behind her hair. Being so busy tending to Melinda and caring for Devan, she hadn’t allowed herself time to focus on how much she had almost lost. She could have died. Melinda could have. Devan almost did.
“I’m here. And I’m not leaving. Kyla…” He sat up easier than she thought he would be able to. “I—”
“I love you,” she blurted out.
He gave her another devastating smile. “I wanted to say that first.”
She giggled. “I’m sorry. Pretend I didn’t.”
“Never.” Devan claimed her hand. “We’ve already been through so much. I will never leave your side, or Melinda’s. Please, Kyla, would you be my mate and allow me to be your wolf?”
Her heart felt like it could burst. She could not love this man, this wolf, more. “If you will allow me to be your coyote.”
The kiss he gave her had goosebumps forming on her arms. He turned one finger into a claw and cut her palm. She did likewise with his. They merged their bloodied palms together. Mates for life, bound by both blood and love.
As soon as the shallow wound on his hand sealed up, Devan rubbed up and down her back, drawing her closer to him.
“Are you sure?” she murmured, not wanting to overtax him.
He lifted his hips, pressing his manhood against her.
“I’m sure.”
Before she could smile, his lips claimed her, much as he had her heart. It wasn’t easy to not shout out as he kissed and caressed her everywhere. She memorized every inch of his body, giving pleasure as she took it. The way she fit into his arms was perfect, and when they united, there was no greater feeling. The way he made her feel, the love he expressed, she accepted and returned it.
When they
finished their mating lovemaking, Kyla curled up beside him. Maybe they would have more children one day. Maybe their pack would grow. Maybe not. All she knew for certain was that she would always love Devan and Melinda, just as he would always love her and their baby.
For the first time since she had met and fallen in love with Devan, she felt excited for the future. Whatever lay in store for them, they would face it together.
THE END
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