Ultimate Alpha Boxed Set: A BBW and Wolf Shifter collection

by Bolryder, Terry

  “So that’s why you were willing to get involved,” I sneer bitterly. “Of course. How brave of you. You knew you weren’t going to die.”

  “I didn’t know that,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck and looking like he wants to come over. But I snarl again.

  “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t know it would end up like this. I was trying to stop him, is all. I’ve done some bad things, but I knew in that moment, I couldn’t let him take you. I would have died to stop it.”

  “Someone did die to stop it,” I choke out, brushing Lindon’s hair. He doesn’t respond at all.

  “Look, Misty,” he says, holding up his hands and talking to me while everyone watches. “I obviously can’t do any more harm to him. Let me come closer, there’s a chance I can help.”

  “No, how can I trust you?” I wail.

  Thor walks over to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Let him help. You never know. He’s not perfect, but he’s not perfectly evil either.”

  I look up at him warily. “You knew?”

  His jaw muscles tighten. “I didn’t know much. I knew he was hiding something. I’m sorry, Misty.”

  “It’s his fault.”

  “Now, that’s not fair,” he says. “Jack would have been here for you either way. And Lock tried to help.”

  “Can both of you shut up and let me help him?” Lock snaps. “I don’t know if I can do anything, but if we don’t hurry, it’ll be too late, anyway.”

  “Please,” Hawes says quietly. “Let him help. If there’s even a chance, what can it hurt?”

  “I don’t want Lindon’s betrayer touching him in his last moments. He should only be with people who love him,” I say. “But…you’re right. If there’s a chance…”

  I sit back and rest Lindon’s head on my lap, and Hawes helps lay him out gently on his back.

  Lock steps forward and crouches down in front of him. He lifts Hawes’ hand away and winces at the wound under it. I can’t look. I just know it’s awful. I can hear blood dripping onto the grass.

  “It’s bad,” Lock says.

  “What can you do?” I ask impatiently.

  He rolls up his sleeve and reaches toward Thor, who hands him a knife. “Give him a chance. That’s it. I have no idea if this will work.” He slices open his arm and I stifle a gag as blood drips out. Hawes’ eyes widen in horror while Thor just looks on.

  I can hear someone vomit in the distance and look over to see Bradley bent over some nearby bushes.

  Gross.

  I turn my attention to Lock as he applies his blood to Lindon’s wound. “Are you crazy? Isn’t that all kinds of unsanitary?”

  “What else do you suggest? Powerful healing antibodies run in my blood. I healed nearly instantly. I guess, I mean, I could try saliva.”

  I can feel my face draining and I shake my head vigorously. “Sorry, sorry. Do what you think will help.”

  Hawes reaches over and takes my hand. “Thanks for caring for him.”

  “Ha,” I mutter bitterly. “It was never a choice. It was like I cared for him from the instant I saw him.”

  “Judging by that flying leap into the face of death, I’d say that it’s mutual,” he says quietly, giving me a semblance of a smile. “I hope you’ll at least remember that.”

  I shudder. Remember that the man I loved got shot to pieces by jumping in front of me? Sure, I’ll always remember that. And I bet I won’t want to.

  “Not the violent part, of course,” he says. “But the part where someone was willing to give up their life for you.”

  “Right,” I joke. “I’ll give him some free passes on stuff when he gets better.”

  If he gets better.

  Hawes tries to laugh but it comes out more like a cough, and we both avert our gaze as Lock mixes his blood with Lindon’s. Will that mean he has Lock’s power after this, if he lives? Or is the blood more like a salve or powerful antibiotic?

  “I’ll…hold you to…that,” Lindon says. “I’m a…shithead…so I’ll need…some free passes.”

  My eyes widen in joy, but by the time I look down to him, he has passed out again. I sigh in frustration and hold him still, hoping the few words he said were a sign that he’s at least moving in and out of consciousness. That he can hear us sometimes, at least.

  Lock finishes and stands, and Thor rips his shirt to make a tourniquet for his brother. They stare at each other for a moment and my heart sort of breaks for them. Sometimes love is very painful.

  “You can’t stay here,” Thor says.

  Lock nods.

  “You can’t leave, either,” I say. “You have to pay for this.”

  “Misty,” Hawes says gently. “He may have just saved Lindon’s life. If he stays, he’ll be killed.”

  “By whom?” I look down at Lindon. The blood does seem to be lessening.

  He shakes his head. “The tribunal. The mob. Take your pick.”

  I look over at Lock. He shrugs.

  “I’ll stay if you want me to,” he says. “I’ll take my punishment.”

  “Whatever you’d gotten into,” Thor says, “you should have told me. Given me a chance to help you.”

  “Naw,” Lock says, waving a hand, “I’m your older brother, it was always my job to help you.”

  My eyes prick at that, maybe just all the pent up emotion about Lindon being shot finally rising to the surface. Maybe just seeing such a strong family bond, something I never really had.

  “He can go, right?” Thor asks.

  “Alright,” I say. “I can’t stop you, anyway, can I?” I give Lock a dry smile and he comes forward to give me a quick hug.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I say, shrugging him off. I’m still not sure how I feel about him, on the balance of things. But right now he should run.

  “Where will you go?” I ask.

  “Somewhere safe,” he says quietly. He looks at me and then Lindon. “One word of advice?”

  “Sure, what is it?” I ask.

  “He’s still going to have to fight this. Nothing is certain. He could still die. If I were you I’d make sure he knows he’s forgiven. Give him something to live for.”

  I nod at him and Lock transforms into his wolf and takes off back up the hill. A little later I hear the roar of a motorcycle. As long as he doesn’t hurt anyone else, I guess for Thor’s sake I hope he gets somewhere safely and gets his act together.

  I turn back to Lindon, who is breathing a little more evenly now. I wait a few minutes, but it doesn’t get much better. But it doesn’t get worse either, like it was every minute before Lock interfered.

  No one says anything. They all wait for my decision. And why not? I’m an alpha too.

  “Help me get him inside,” I say.

  They all rush into action.

  Matt drove up here, presumably because if she had changed into a wolf, people would have known her secret. The only time I’ve seen her as a wolf was when I was running back to the house with Lindon after almost drowning, and neither me or Lindon were in a place to notice anything odd about her.

  We load Lindon gently into the back of the car she took. Lots of strong hands keep him stabilized while we move him into the backseat.

  I’ve never seen them all look at him with so much respect. I guess jumping in front of a fatal bullet was all it took for them to stop seeing him as only the spoilt son of Rowan and one of the men just trying to cheat and steal their chance at an alpha female.

  It still stands that when I was in danger, he was the one in front of me, no one else.

  Or at least that’s how I’m justifying it since from this moment on I don’t think I can look at anyone but Lindon.

  If I ever did.

  I just need to be patient. Let him come to the same conclusions I did. Let him get over what he needs to get over. I can wait. I waited twenty-eight years without even the hope of being with someone as wonderful as him. I can wait a little longer.

  Or can I?

  Hawes is driving very carefull
y and I’m turned around in the passenger’s seat monitoring Lindon. He’s breathing, but his skin is turning a pallid, greenish color, and his breaths are shallow. He’s not responding anymore either. It seems like the poison or whatever it was has gotten into his blood.

  Of course, the more civilized we got, the more we would wander into science about how to kill each other better. Just shifters following in the path humanity set.

  But what am I thinking? These are wolves who think it’s okay to fight to the death for a mate, so I doubt this bothers them as much as it bothers me.

  Since it affects my future mate, it bothers me a great deal. I make note to look into this kind of thing. I have a great deal of money, right? And Rowan does too. If people like Jack can be doing science experiments on ways of hurting, couldn’t we figure out some new ways to help and heal our kind, as well?

  Specifically, the female mortality rate seems to be worse than the males in a lot of cases. Definitely in Lindon’s pack, and I’m assuming if it were otherwise in other packs, there wouldn’t have been so many men signed up to come here and fight for me.

  But I’m also just trying to keep my mind busy as I hold Lindon’s hand as we zoom down the curvy roads to the mansion. I’ve never been so grateful for the excellent suspension on a luxury car.

  When we pull up out front, I look up the hill to see wolves looking out, wolves trailing down after us. One silver wolf raises his head and howls, and the rest follow.

  For once, we feel like a pack, not just a bunch of people thrown together and told to get along.

  Hawes reaches into the back and picks Lindon up in his arms, easily carrying his brother to the front door, which I open for him. His face is stern and resolute.

  “You going to call your family?” I ask.

  “Of course,” he says. “Though I’m dreading it. I was hoping to have good news.”

  I look at Lindon as we walk up the stairs. He’s not bleeding anymore, at least actively, but things still look grim. “I’ll do my best to try and make sure there is good news in the end.”

  “What can you do?” he asks, somewhat coldly. It’s the first time he’s been anything but pleasant with me, and he sighs and apologizes. “I’m sorry, I’m stressed. I shouldn’t have been sharp with you.”

  I laugh. “Your sharp is blunt compared to Lindon.”

  He smiles at me as I open the door to my room. “That could be true.” He sets him down on my bed. “Lock that door, okay? Don’t answer to anyone but me.”

  “Why? Lock is gone, and Jack—”

  “You never know,” he says, hand on the doorknob. “There could be another turncoat out there, and we wouldn’t know because they would be hiding because the others already outed themselves. Keep him safe for me, okay?” His sunset colored eyes are soft as they study Lindon’s prone form, laid out on the bed with one arm over his middle.

  “I will.”

  “And call if you need anything,” he says. “You got a phone?”

  I nod and hand it to him, and he puts his number in. “I’ll just be talking to the family. I don’t want to bring too many of them here or they’ll bother him. Rowan would probably charge in and knock things over and create a ruckus and Rafe would probably just drive us all crazy with his ranting.”

  I smile at him. “Maybe.”

  “But I trust you, Misty. He was willing to die for you. Now you just have to see if he’s willing to live for you.” He smiles, leaving me with those very serious words, and leaves. The door closes with a click behind him and I rush to lock it.

  Then I take a few steps backward. The room is quiet. Just Lindon wheezing lightly. I walk over to the bed, dreading what I’ll see.

  His face is beautiful as usual, eyes closed in sleep. I sit on the side of the bed. I never expected him to be here with me like this. So helpless. I tuck him under the covers, worried that shock could set in if he’s too cold. Do shifters get shock?

  I run to my bathroom, start the water running, and then grab a cloth and run it in the water, wringing it so it’s not dripping.

  The least I can do is clean him up.

  I run back to the bed, trying to tread softly so that he doesn’t wake. He needs to save his energy to fight whatever is running through his veins.

  I sit beside him again and gently start wiping the blood off his abdomen. Thank heavens Lock at least seemed to have stopped his bleeding. He definitely prolonged Lindon’s life, but it’s up to us now to save it.

  Mostly it’s up to Lindon. I can see his eyes moving behind his eyelids. He needs to get better so I can chew him out for being so reckless. Silly man was conflicted even as he was jumping into the face of certain death.

  This man is frustrating, ridiculous, and more than a little infuriating. At the same time, that makes him perfect for me. I can handle him and things will never be boring.

  Hawes and the others already checked for an exit wound. I couldn’t watch, so I turned away. But I roll Lindon over now to see how it’s healing. It’s mostly closed. Man, that’s amazing. I let him drop back onto his back gently, marveling at my strength at even being able to move him. I feel like needing to help him makes me stronger.

  Tenderness rushes through me as I think of what he did. I’m trying to keep my mind from focusing on the blood, which could easily make me faint if I let it.

  He really did that, for me. He didn’t even think about it. That’s just amazingly…hard to understand.

  His abdomen is clean, and the wound still makes me wince, though the blood is congealed and it seems to be slowly closing. It looks a little better than when we left. Or maybe just looks a little better with most of the blood around it wiped up.

  I take the washcloth to the bathroom to rinse out the blood and hear a cough from the bedroom. My heart stutters and I turn to see Lindon trying to sit up. His head barely raises and he falls back, coughing.

  I drop what I’m holding and rush back to the bed. His face looks greener.

  He touches his side lightly, looks down, and then his eyes roll back in his head and he passes out again. Which is honestly best right now, probably. I shake my head, trying to calm my heart, and go back to the bathroom for another washcloth. This one I soak in cool water and take back to place on his head, in case he has a fever.

  I press a hand to his head, and it’s burning, so I put the cold washcloth there. Not that it’ll do much, but hopefully it’ll feel good.

  Then I get onto the bed with him and wait. It’s all I can do. I snuggle up beside him under the covers, hoping he can feel me against him. Hoping it won’t make him mad.

  I don’t know if he’s still upset with me. Maybe he’ll go back to saying mean things the second he wakes up. It’s easy for me to say I can deal, but then thinking of it actually happening makes a shudder of dread go through me. Oh well, as long as he wakes up.

  I kiss the side of his head, gently. “Wake up, Lindon, please.”

  His eyes flutter open and look at me, pain clear in their golden depths.

  “I meant someday. Or in the morning. Not now, you need to rest.”

  “Picky picky,” he mutters, closing his eyes again.

  “Would you do anything I ask?” I tease, because he’s looking slightly less green now. Maybe the worst of it is over.

  “Did Lock…put blood on me?”

  I bite my lip, wondering if he’s well enough to hear the truth. A part of me is still waiting for him to pass out again. He stays back against the pillows this time and takes a slow, deep breath.

  “I feel like I’ve been run over by a steamroller,” he says quietly. His first sentence without any large pauses. My heart jumps at that, but I won’t rejoice completely until his face isn’t green anymore, till there is color in his lips again. “Actually, I think I’m going to pass out again. Misty, I don’t know if I’ll make it. I’m fighting tho—”

  And then he’s out. I put a hand up to stifle a laugh that also sounds like a cry, and watch to make sure he’s still breathing
. I lean on him, being careful not to disturb his wound, and rest my head on his chest lightly.

  “I’ll stay with you all night,” I say quietly. “I’ll stay as long as you need. Don’t leave me. If you leave me, I’m doomed.”

  The words echo through me and horror surges. Sylvester’s words in Lindon’s book. Maybe I should read it to him now, remind him of the pain Ava’s death caused him, beg him not to do that to me now.

  “Oh Lindon, I get how you feel now. I forgive you for anything you’ve done, for all the future screw-ups. I even forgive you if you don’t want me. Just come back and be okay. And find someone to love.”

  I run a hand over his. “That book can’t be the end of your story.” Tears fall as I lapse into silence.

  We stay like that for a few hours, with Hawes checking in intermittently but keeping everyone else away. I monitor every change in breath, every quake or shudder or moan. Each minute contains a century of anticipation and pain.

  This man could devastate me.

  And then he makes a little choking noise. It startles me and I sit up and look down at him. His head thrashes slightly side to side, and his jaw is locked, with little gurgling noises coming from him that frankly terrify me. I look down at his side, the wound is weeping. I take the cloth from his forehead and place it over it.

  “No, Lindon, fight,” I say. He makes a shuddery little wheeze and then stops breathing. I wait a few seconds to make sure. The only sound is my own heart thumping in my ears, and my mind hoping it remembers its CPR training from school.

  I jump into action, tilting Lindon’s head back and opening his mouth to listen for breath. I then blow in, to see if the airway is blocked. It’s not, he’s just not breathing.

  “No,” I say, hitting the bed. I climb onto it and straddle him on the bed, balancing on my knees, and lean forward to take his pulse. Still beating, faintly.

  “Damnit, no quitting. You’re not a quitter, Lindon. Don’t you DARE do what Ava did to you, do you hear me? It’s one thing for her to do it, but you know how it feels. So you can’t, do you hear me? You can’t.” I give him a few more breaths and then collapse beside him, careful not to put my weight on him.