Immortals of New Orleans Box Set (Books 1-4)

by Kym Grosso

  “I am Alpha.”

  LOGAN’S

  ACADIAN WOLVES

  Immortals of New Orleans, Book 4

  Kym Grosso

  Acknowledgments

  I am very thankful to everyone who helped me create this book:

  ~My husband, for being my biggest supporter. I love talking with you about the hot love scenes I write. You give me great feedback and ideas. You are my inspiration.

  ~My children, for being so patient with me, while I spend time working on the book. You are the best kids ever!

  ~Julie Roberts, editor, who spent hours reading, editing and proofreading Logan’s Acadian Wolves. I really could not have done this without you!

  ~PickyMe Artist, who helped me to create Logan’s sexy cover.

  ~My beta readers, Cat, Denise, Elizabeth, Gayle, Julia, Julie, Leah, Liz, Nadine, Sharon, Stephanie, Sunny, for volunteering to beta read the novel and provide me with valuable feedback. You are incredible!

  ~My street team, for all your kind words and for helping spread the word about the Immortals of New Orleans series.

  Chapter One

  Logan clamped his canines deep into the gritty fur until his opponent whimpered in defeat. The iron-tinged blood only served to further spur his anger. For months, he’d fought challenges to his claim as Alpha. Like the increasing winds of a hurricane, his power grew with every battle. Yet he’d been merciful, never killing another wolf. But tonight, he’d had enough. It was time to put an end to the challenges and force acceptance. As the sanguine droplets coated his tongue, Logan growled. The cowering brown wolf held still, cognizant that a struggle would surely bring his demise.

  Sufficiently satisfied with the submission, the Alpha seamlessly transformed. His naked muscular body stood statuesque, rippled in unadulterated strength. Dripping in sweat and blood, Logan’s dark eyes narrowed on the shaking form at his feet then rose to scan the sea of eyes watching him, waiting for his next word.

  “This ends tonight,” he growled, addressing the pack. “The next challenge set forth to me will end in death. There’ll be no mercy. I am Alpha. Who here challenges me next?”

  Power surged through his veins. Logan sent a small threatening tendril toward his wolves, both a warning and an ultimatum. A faint murmur from the crowd ended as quickly as it started. The tension was palpable, yet the hum of acquiescence danced in the silence of the night. A binding calm blanketed the pack as one by one each wolf crouched down in submission, tails wagging, acknowledging their new leader.

  Logan felt it as sure as he knew he was wolf; he was Alpha. He closed his eyes, allowing the energy to flow through him, amplifying throughout every molecule in his body. Every wolf accepting, loving, giving all of themselves over to his reign. The seed of dominance had finally germinated into a fully grown tree of command, providing the protection and guidance the pack needed for survival. Thrumming in control, Logan’s muscles tensed as he threw back his head, sucking in the chilled evening breeze. A victorious howl emanated from deep within his chest as he claimed his pack, his rule, his dominion. Rising to the call of their Alpha, the wolves joined in his song, celebrating their leader.

  Logan stopped his call for only a second to nod in affirmation at his chosen beta, Dimitri. The confident but subservient brown wolf padded toward Logan, eyes darting to his pack mates in recognition of his status.

  “Tonight, we celebrate,” Logan ordered, shifting back into his large silky gray wolf. He gazed upon his wolves, raising his snout in a cool display of affection.

  As they ran through the night, Logan contemplated how he’d gotten to this point. Long ago, he’d been born a pup in the Acadian wolf pack, chasing to keep up with Marcel and his friend, Tristan. It had been mere months since he’d helped Tristan save his mate, taking out the destructive Wallace pack in South Carolina. Then, he’d come to New Orleans to help relocate the abused women and pups they’d found. That fateful night when he’d gone to Marcel, he’d found him shot and dying. Given no choice, Logan had killed the perpetrator, who'd been Marcel’s beta. Crying out into the darkness was of no use to stop the inevitable. As Marcel lay dying in his arms, bleeding out onto the floor, Logan had agreed to become Alpha of Acadian Wolves. Marcel was like a brother; he'd do whatever he asked. And Tristan, Marcel’s true brother, was Logan’s Alpha and best friend in Pennsylvania. But no more. He’d wanted to deny Marcel his dying wish. At first, he’d refused to say it. But as the life faded from Marcel’s eyes, Logan accepted his fate, speaking the words that would forever change his life; “I am Alpha”.

  If it was only that easy. After one hundred and forty-two years of being wolf, he knew full well that his pack wouldn’t simply accept the situation, relinquishing the role of Alpha to him, especially since he hadn’t been home for so long. Rather than reneging on his promise, he’d fought week after week, sealing his commitment to Marcel. And tonight, threatening death to all who opposed him had been the final chapter in his ascension.

  Logan had not truly believed he was Alpha until tonight. He’d been a second away from killing the wolf beneath him. Feral. Savage. Unyielding. This was who he was, who he was meant to be. He ran hard through the bayou refuge, leading the others. Acadian Wolves, his new pack, was his to rule.

  As the hot spray sluiced over Logan’s tanned corded muscles, a million thoughts raced through his mind. Jacked up from the fight and final acceptance from his pack, he willed the adrenaline rush to subside. But even the high of the night hadn’t diminished the pain of losing Marcel. Nor did it ease the sense of loss that remained over being separated from Tristan. When Logan had agreed to take over Acadian Wolves, Tristan had encouraged him to take his rightful place, unwilling to hear any arguments to the contrary. At first, he felt betrayed that his friend would so easily capitulate to losing his beta. But as he’d heard Tristan say many a time, Alphas needed to make difficult decisions, put their own feelings aside for the greater good of the pack.

  So in this vein, he’d made a conscious decision to do the same. Regardless of how he felt, his position and responsibility for each and every wolf superseded his own needs. He silently conceded that perhaps he hadn’t fully understood what that meant until tonight. Bloodied and bruised, he stood firm, claiming his earned position.

  Logan reflected on his former life as Tristan’s beta. Nearly a half century ago, he’d followed him to Philadelphia. As the years passed, he remained close to Marcel and their sister, Katrina, who also relocated. His years with Tristan had been prosperous and for the most part, peaceful. He’d been happy. Content. Life was good. No, life was great. Then a single bullet had turned his entire world upside down.

  As Logan floated into a quiet contemplation, the blinding, recurring vision launched uncontrollably into his thoughts. Instead of fighting the inevitable, he allowed the colors and movement to appear clearly, hoping he’d see her again. He’d been dreaming of her for weeks, yet with every vision, all he could see was her face. Angelic, sad hazel eyes begged him to help. Paralyzed, he could only watch her, wondering who she was and why she was in danger. Her full, pink lips called into the night, but he couldn’t hear her plea.

  The panoramic scene continued to materialize before him, but he was unable to direct the movie. The loss of control didn’t deter him from watching, however. Goddess, she was beautiful. Her long curly blonde hair whipped across her heart-shaped face. Shaking the locks aside, she screamed uncontrollably until her words turned into rolling sobs. Immobilized, he watched as the monster’s clawed hand reached around her neck.

  In an instant, the jagged talon transformed her cries into soft gurgling. A bubbling line of blood spewed from her pink skin as he sliced open her throat. Logan’s heart pounded against his chest; he thrashed against invisible bindings. A mixture of shock and acceptance flashed across her eyes right before she sagged to the ground. Gasping, Logan struggled, trying to reach her. But nothing came. No movement. No sound. The familiar black tunnel closed inward, ending the terrifying nightmare.


  Logan’s eyes flew open, and he realized he was still in the shower. He shuddered, wondering when the scene would play out in reality. The visions had plagued him his entire life, but he’d normally taken them in stride, knowing they didn’t personally affect his own future. Even though he couldn’t identify the alluring woman, he couldn’t shake the feeling that her life intertwined with his. Was she a wolf who’d join his pack? An enemy? The emotion that had been deeply woven into the vision told him that he knew her. He cared for her. She was dying and he’d been restrained, unable to save her life.

  Logan sighed in disgust. Dismissing the ominous premonition didn’t seem feasible. The lingering apprehension wrapped around him like a lead vest. Goddammit. Who was she? And why the hell couldn’t he save her? He didn’t need this shit right now. No, it wasn’t exactly the optimal time in his life to solve a disturbing, enigmatic vision. But like every other damning event that had slapped him lately, he’d compartmentalize the issue and deal with it.

  The jarring of the door handle and a rush of cool air cued him to the fact that he was no longer alone. Fuck, he hated this house. Even though he’d moved into Marcel’s country home out of necessity, it still felt uncomfortable. To his dismay, too many people lived with him. Granted, he’d brought it on himself by inviting them. Dimitri, his beta and longtime friend, had moved in at his request. And then there was Luci, Marcel’s girlfriend, who also shared their home. Both Logan and Luci had witnessed Marcel’s last dying breath. She’d collapsed into his arms immediately afterward, and since that moment in time, he’d felt responsible for her. So when he moved into Marcel’s bayou mansion, he’d allowed her to stay.

  But it was Katrina who shared his bed. She wasn’t his mate but he’d felt oddly comforted by her warm body on cool winter nights. Out of grief, they’d clung to each other like a life raft in a storm. As if a kindred spirit, she’d been both sexually adventurous and giving, sharing herself with both Dimitri and him. He’d always been abundantly clear, however, that they couldn’t continue on forever. Even if it had felt right at the time, she wasn’t his mate. And it no longer was comfortable.

  “Logan,” Katrina called into the shower.

  “In here,” Logan responded.

  He’d have to tell her tonight that it was over. It wouldn’t be easy, but she needed to go back to her life in Philadelphia, and he needed to pay attention to business. It was time to go back to the city.

  As warm silky skin slid against his own wetness, he fought the arousal that loomed to distract him from his task. Allowing her to wrap her body around his, he kissed her damp hair.

  “Hey, Kat. We need to talk.”

  “Hmm…talk, huh?” She reached around to caress his ass with both hands, slithering against his semi-erect cock.

  Logan pulled away slightly, not disconnecting his touch but enough to cup her face. Taking a deep breath, he narrowed his eyes on hers.

  “You know I love you. But it’s time for you to go home. We can’t keep doing this.”

  “Doing what? This?” She smiled, reaching down between his legs to wrap her fingers around his shaft.

  In a flash, he grabbed her wrists, bringing them against his chest.

  “Yeah, that. Seriously, it’s time. Now that I’ve established dominance, it’s time for me to go into the city. I’ve got work to do. And you, my lovely vixen, have a business to run.”

  She sighed, leaning her forehead against him. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know what he was saying to be true. Reality was a bitch. A hard sigh escaped her lips at the realization that he was sending her home.

  “Kat, we both miss Marcel. It’s been hard on both of us. But you’ve got to go spend time with Tristan. Tend to your shop. And when things settle down, if you still want to come back here, you know you’re always welcome. But for now, we’re just using each other. It’s not healthy…for either of us.”

  She shook her head in denial. “It’s not like I don’t know you’re right. It’s just…I miss him so damn much.”

  “I do too, baby, but this isn’t the answer.” Logan pressed his lips to her wet cheek. “It’ll be okay. Go home. Comfort Tris. He needs you as much as you need him.”

  “When are you leaving for the city?” She lifted her head as he gently released her arms.

  “Tonight. Dimitri and I are leaving in a few hours,” he told her with a small smile.

  “I’ll miss you. And Dimitri,” she contemplated, accepting that her time in New Orleans was coming to an end.

  The past months since her brother’s death had been awful. The only thing that had made anything slightly tolerable was the hot nights she’d spent with Logan and his beta. Instead of openly grieving, she’d buried her feelings deeply. As sister to the slain Alpha, she chose to be strong for the pack, for Logan.

  “I’ll miss you too, but it’s time. I didn’t choose this, but it’s my path. I’ve got to move on for the sake of my wolves,” he explained. “And you need to let go of him. Marcel’s gone. You need to be able to grieve. As long as you are here, you’ll never move on.”

  The steel band that wrapped her heart in grief tightened. Wolves didn’t die, especially not her strong Alpha brother. It was as if Logan’s words made it real. She knew he was dead, saw them lower his body into the grave, smelled his scent in the earth every time she went for a run. He was truly gone.

  Sensing her retreat within her own mind, Logan pulled her into his arms, cradling her head to his breast. “It’s okay to let go,” he whispered.

  A gasp of devastation gushed from her chest before she had a chance to swallow it. The wave of depression washed over the walls of sanity she’d tried so hard to build. Digging her fingers into his shoulders, she sobbed, the anguish of losing her sibling no longer held at bay. Goddess, she missed her big brother. She knew in that moment that as much as she loved Logan, it was Tristan she needed. He was the only one who’d comprehend the heartache that tore her apart.

  Logan held tight to his longtime friend, comforting her as best he could. He’d call Tristan tonight and have her home by morning. They both needed closure, and getting her to face her loss was the only way to commence healing.

  “That’s it, Kat. It’s all right. Let it out.”

  Realizing how she’d lost it, she tried to pull away from him, but he held her tighter still. “Don’t hide.”

  “But I can’t…” she cried, desperately wanting to curl into a ball.

  “You don’t need to be the strong Alpha’s sister. It’s just me. And I’m the Alpha who comforts you now. Tomorrow, you’ll be with Tris, and it’ll all be okay. I promise.” Purposefully, he let his power flow; calming waves emanated from his body to hers, wrapping her in a loving cocoon of peace. Refusing to let her retreat, he embraced her until she finally quieted. As her last tears fell, she looked up at him with awe, with the understanding that her friend was no longer her brother’s beta. No, he was their equal.

  Logan wore the veil of responsibility as if he’d led the pack his entire life. He’d fought over a dozen wolves to earn the title, and it had been respectfully earned. A double-edged sword, loving or lethal, depending on the situation, there was no doubt about the male who held her in his arms. Capable of ameliorating pain or inciting it, he’d provide guidance and discipline to the wolves. As if she’d woken from a long sleep, Katrina looked into Logan’s deep blue eyes, shivering with the realization that he’d changed. Altogether deliberate and dominant, a new wolf had been born. He was Alpha.

  Chapter Two

  Logan sat on the cracked leather barstool watching his wolves celebrate. As he drank his beer, he smiled to himself, amused at the curveball life had thrown him. He felt exhilarated to be back in the French Quarter. After Marcel had died, he’d sold the Alpha’s Garden District pack house, per Tristan’s request. He was thrilled to be rid of the monstrosity, considering the death he’d caused and witnessed that disastrous night. There was no way he’d step one foot back into that house, let alone hold any p
ack activities there.

  In contrast, his new home soothed his soul, reminding him of his Creole roots. Newly reconditioned, it mirrored his life. Long before Marcel’s demise, he’d started restoring the early nineteenth century three-story corner mansion. But his newfound position had accelerated the renovations, so he’d be able to live in the city. As much as he loved running wolf, the urbane food and culture were every bit a part of who he was. He’d made sure that his wolves were close by in adjoining townhouses on his street.

  The only wolf he allowed to live with him was Dimitri. The quaint guest cottage on the property gave them both the closeness and privacy they needed. While he’d grown up with Dimitri, the connection between him and his beta had grown stronger over the past month. Their relationship had deepened in both respect and trust. And while Logan had initially felt awkward about his need for a beta, he soon embraced the bond. They’d shared more than a house. Pack challenges. Business. Women. Their intimacy had grown exponentially each day, but Logan no longer questioned why. Instinctively, he knew it was as natural as the sun rising.

  After returning to the city and pulling into the carport, Logan insisted that he and Dimitri go to Courettes for drinks and celebration. He felt the wave of contentment that had washed through the pack. They had needed a leader, one determined to withstand multiple challenges, and he’d shown he was worthy. And in return, he needed to be with them and around them.

  Courettes was an open-air, casual French Quarter establishment. What made the bar unique was that, thanks to a witch’s spell, only paranormals could see into the bar or enter. To humans, it simply looked like a quiet home with closed wooden shutters. Because tonight was an Acadian wolf celebration, few vampires and witches attended. As the zydeco band played, wolves danced sensually to the indigenous beats.