Crowning Glory [The Royal Wolves 3] (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Honor James

  “Son of a bitch.” Why hadn’t she thought of it before? “It wasn’t his mate that the fortune teller had seen, it was yours. Those women being killed aren’t because of Ben, but you. They are looking for me.” Well now if that wasn’t a pickle she sure as hell didn’t know what was. As the oldest son, Laz was to be King. But for the events forcing them from their home, he would have sat on the throne. Kill his mate though, yeah, that would be one hell of a blow that a Wolf wouldn’t recover from. If the future King goes insane from the death of his mate, they might just have what they needed to fully denounce him and the family in general. She had to wonder if any of the brothers had considered that.

  Jerking back, Laszlo stared at her. “What?” he asked, as she watched him try to follow where she was going with that. And then a chill seemingly went down his spine. “Desmonda,” he murmured. “If they’re looking for you, you’re in serious danger. These are Wolves, honey, they will kill you without even a single doubt. Wherever you are, you can’t remain there. Leave the tracking device there and get away, please,” he said, as though he hated to ask, as though he hated using the word “please.” But she was his mate, not one of his moronic brothers that he could railroad. His face was betraying every emotion rocketing through him. Anger, pain and a fear like none she’d ever witnessed. His eyes were hollow with the emotion, his hand on her chin tightening slightly as his jaw clenched, he was fighting through the emotions.

  She hated that he was right, really hated it, but she nodded. She wouldn’t fight him on this, not when it was clear to her he was reining in the Wolf and his dominant side, for her. He was trying to make her see reason and follow his logic to come to the same conclusion. She was in a shit load of trouble and all alone. Not a good situation and one his Wolf would be howling over if what Harker had told her about mates was true. “All right, I will wake up and get the hell out of Dodge.” Dammit, she wanted to figure out who the hell it was and now, now she couldn’t. “Are you somewhere safe?” she asked, knowing he was probably like Ben, not a gun carrier or one who really could seriously harm another. “And don’t think for a moment that just because I caved on this, that I will on other things. I’m just not stupid and know when the cut bait and run.”

  “I’m at my home, just north of my brothers’ homes,” he told her softly. “Come there, Desmonda, when they realize you tricked them they’ll go to your home. And yes, they’ll know where it is even without the mole, your scent will lead them straight there.” Stroking her cheek, he looked into her eyes. “I’m pretty sure I can get you to cave on anything I want, common-sense always wins out,” he said with a faintly smug smile. Leaning in, he kissed her full on her lips and in his normal take-charge manner, tasting her, as though he needed her on his tongue and in his memory. “Now wake up,” he whispered to her. “Wake up and get the hell out of wherever you are. Come to me, Desmonda,” he added and gave her directions from the city, as though knowing that, wherever she was, she could find him.

  Her fingers touched his lips and she shook her head. “Nope, not going to happen. Stay safe, Laz, I will be there with you before you know it, but not yet.” Not if she had a tail because she would not and could not bring danger and trouble to his door. “Be safe, Laszlo, I will see you tomorrow.” With that she snapped herself awake forcefully and sat up. “Son of a fucking bitch.” She growled and, grabbing her bowie knife, cut the transmitter off and raced for the front door. Dammit all, why hadn’t she realized all of the women had her fucking build? Where had her mind been?

  * * * *

  Jolting awake in his bed, Laszlo sucked in a breath as he tried to reorient himself and then snarled. “I’m going to paddle her ass until it’s black and blue.” Rolling from the bed, he grabbed the phone and called Mik and, after a short but not overly informative conversation, Laz had an idea of three places Desmonda would have gone. Thankfully Harker had mentioned a cabin and, for some unknown reason, he was going to check there first. Letting himself out of the house, he changed on the run and went up and over the fence at the front of his home easily. Paws hit the soil, claws dug in, and he spun his huge body in the direction he wanted. Her scent was on his skin, in his nose and he would find her. He’d better find her alive. That was all that mattered. And if he didn’t, there would be bloodshed of unparalleled proportions.

  * * * *

  Desi had no idea of the trouble that she was causing Laszlo, all she knew was that she needed to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible. However, things didn’t go as she had planned. Like they ever do when she was in a panic, not that it happened often. But dammit, now it was.

  She was going to blame everything on the branch, yep, it was that damn tree branch that fell as she was racing for her car that had her pulling her gun and pausing, going into a low crouch and spinning around on her heels. Her heart was racing, her breathing harsh, and everything seemed too loud in the night. She’d swear to anyone that asked that she could feel them, the mysterious them, staring at her even though there was nothing out there. She took a full five minutes to ensure that there was no one in the shadows, watching what was happening around her as intently as anyone could have.

  But it still didn’t make her feel any better, it just made her realize how far from civilization she was and just how very alone she was. No one would hear her scream, no one would hear her begging, not that she would ever beg, and no one would ever know if she died. With that happy little thought rolling around in her mind, Des made another slow sweep, paying extra attention to the shadows. Were they natural? Did they move as they should in the breeze? Was there someone waiting out there for her to turn her back?

  Her pulse was racing and adrenaline pumping, her brain was screaming at her to run as fast as she could, but she couldn’t, not yet. Standing and clicking the remote release for the car locks, she moved toward her car and slipped in. Starting it up, she sat there behind locked doors for several minutes before putting it into drive and starting off for her safe house. Well, at least she hoped it would be safe. There had to be somewhere safe.

  * * * *

  The sound of a car engine had Laszlo stopping in the trees, his head cocked and ears moving to figure out the direction of the sound. But it was the sound underneath the engine purring that caught him in a grip of pure terror. Wolves howling at one another and not the playful yips or mournful calls, it was the call of the hunt. His lip peeled up in a silent snarl when her scent, faint as it was, played along the wind to his sensitive nose and told him all he needed to know, the underlying scent of a pack too close to his mate for comfort.

  Turning, he began running toward her, if the pack surrounded her car and she reacted on gut instinct, they’d have her. Don’t react to a wild animal, Desmonda, he thought, plow through them like dominos. Running faster, he stayed upwind of the pack working his way closer as fast as he could. Then he stopped and waited.

  He was up on a ridge and could see the subtle shadows moving in the trees and then her headlights rounded a bend. Keep driving, no matter what, Desmonda, just keep driving, he chanted. But the Wolf that stepped out in front of her lights had other plans and was betting she’d skid to a halt in time. He heard the crunch of gravel as her lights wavered and knew she was reacting to a basic human instinct to slam to a halt and not hurt the beast.

  Snarling aloud now, Laszlo launched down the hill and hit the animal at a dead run, his jaws snapping closed around the other Wolf’s throat as he used his larger body mass to push him aside. Drive woman! he practically screamed in his mind as he tore out the Wolf’s throat and turned to defend himself against the other pack members as they quickly realized just what had happened.

  She seemed like she was about to drive when it evidently hit her just ‘who’ the other wolf was. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” she began to mutter and then did a U-turn in the gravel, kicking the rocks up to deadly missiles as she turned toward where Laszlo was standing alone. She flipped the passenger door open.

  “Get in!” she
screamed, still moving as she did so. Damn the man, her face seemed to say, giving him a look that said that if he even dared argue, she was going to get out and shoot him before the wolves that wanted her dead.

  Snarling at her, Laszlo smacked one last Wolf across the face, claws fully extended, and then began to run. Timing it just right, he jumped into the car and grunted as his muzzle connected with the dashboard, stars spinning in front of his eyes. Shaking his large head he turned around as best he could and stared out the window at the pack as they tried to regroup and come after them. Growling low, he eyed them, marking each for a slow and extremely painful death if he had his way.

  Then her scent permeated his rage and had him swinging around to look at her. While she looked just oh-so thrilled to have a two-hundred plus pound wolf in her front seat, he was pretty sure she was even less impressed that it was him. Shifting, he sat his ass down and blinked at her, really hoping she didn’t stomp on the brakes, not like he had his hands to use to brace himself and his nose still hurt from the earlier collision with her dash.

  “Why did you come for me?” she asked as she made fast turns in the night, as though determined to get out of there even if it meant killing some wolves along the way. “I was going the opposite way from your place just so that I didn’t lead them to you and yet you come to me anyway.” She shook her head and sighed. “Guess we are going to your place anyway, aren’t we?” she asked and sighed. “Can you shift in the car? If your place is like Mik’s, there will be a gate and you will need to be there to code us in.”

  Looking around, Laz found a jacket in the backseat and, with some interesting manoeuvres latched onto it and dragged it back into the front seat. Positioning it just so, he changed and then raked a hand through his hair. “Next time just listen to me,” he said softly. “It’ll be easier on everyone in the long run.” Shifting in his seat, he checked his shoulder and frowned at the four furrows in his flesh. The asshole had nailed him. Funny that, he thought, probing at it slightly, he’d barely even noticed at the time. Of course, he’d been more than a little angry that his mate, correction, potential mate, was in danger.

  “Well hell,” she said as she looked at his shoulder and shook her head. “Next time believe in your mate and that she can take care of her damn self. I will see about cleaning that up when we get you home.” She looked at her jacket there in his lap and grinned. “Self-conscious?” She was absolutely without modesty sometimes and this appeared to be one of them.

  Glancing at her briefly and then back to his shoulder for a moment, he shrugged. “Figured it would help keep your eyes on the road so we didn’t end up in the ditch or with the hood buried against a tree.” Settling back he looked out the window, his eyes that of the Wolf as he stared around making sure that they didn’t have company.

  Her face indicated that he had her there, as though she were thinking that if he was anywhere near as big in reality as he had been in her dream, then she was in trouble. Then again, from Laz’s experience, most men liked to think they were hung like horses when in reality most of them were barely hung like flies.

  “Is Ben safe?” she asked finally when they hit the highway instead of dirt road.

  “He’s bunked down at Mik’s house,” he said, glancing back, his night vision making her face stand out in spectacular detail. Blinking, he let his vision change back to that of a human, more or less, since in reality it was even better than a human’s on his worst day. “Harker was feeding him when I headed home but I called over a couple hours before I crashed for the night.”

  “I worry about him, he is not cut out to battle against anyone, he couldn’t kill,” she said as if she really knew him. She didn’t know the man he was in the past and didn’t know the wolf that was hidden under his exterior. “He’s a sweet man.” But it was clear from her voice he was not one she would ever want to get involved romantically with, he was just too soft, at least that seemed to be her assumption.

  “Uh-huh,” Laszlo said with a hint of grin at her presumptions. “I’ll mention that to him the next time he’s trying to tear my head off when we’re sparring,” he told her. Pointing toward the turn she needed, he told her to drive down to the end and into the last driveway. “He’s a kind and generous man, Desmonda, but underneath that exterior never forget that he’s still a Wolf.”

  “See, I don’t get that.” She made the turn and paused at the gate. “With Janos, I get it, I can practically feel the leashed beast roaring to get out, especially if someone touches Mina. I see it with Mickey Mouse and he’s the same way, he gets very shitty if someone touches Harker, which makes her all giggly and annoying. I definitely see it with you.” Her face indicated she thought Laz might be death personified, that he could make the damn Devil quake, but she wasn’t going to share, it seemed. “But I don’t see it with Ben.” She shrugged as the gate swung open after she entered the code he gave her.

  “I’ll remind you of this conversation when he finds his mate,” Laszlo said, pointing her toward the front of the house. Once she was parked, he tossed the jacket into the backseat and slid from the car, stretching to relieve the tense muscles. Glancing over at her, he lifted a brow. “Coming?” he asked as he padded up to the front door and dug out his spare key. Unlocking the door, he tucked the key back in its spot and then moved inside. “Make yourself at home, Desmonda,” he called as he moved to the kitchen for a bottle of water, or a gallon, he needed serious rehydration after the run.

  She was staring. She knew that she was staring, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “Holy Christ, if anything, you understated how good you looked.”

  Glancing at her, he frowned as he opened the fridge and pulled out a large liter of water. Pulling the lid off, he drank deeply, chugging it all down as fast as he could. When it was half empty, he pulled it from his lips and took a breath. “I’m going to dress, if you want anything to eat, feel free to raid the pantry or fridge as you wish. I shall rejoin you in a few moments,” he told her and then moved around her, purposefully brushing his arm against hers in the lightest of touches and grinning when she reacted.

  She shivered in reaction, her nipples going completely tight, her breasts aching and pussy weeping. Her breathing seemed to stop as his naked arm brushed against her. Looking up as she licked her lips, she whimpered, yes she whimpered, and watched him disappear down the hall.

  Padding down the hall, he dug out a pair of old jeans and a fisherman’s sweater, pulling both on before going out to discover what his little mate was up to. He had to admit a certain amount of intrigue where she was concerned. She was a modern woman and more than a little mouthy. But she wasn’t dumb by any definition, she’d recognized the danger from what he’d told her and she’d gotten out. Course, she was stubborn, she hadn’t headed for him, the one person on the planet that could protect her, instead she’d decided to protect him. That little detail was one they would have to discuss, before or after he strangled her, he wasn’t quite sure.

  She looked up when he came back and slid the plate of sandwiches with the crusts cut off of them to him. “I figured we could share a meal?” Apparently she didn’t like bread on normal days, and eating the crust of bread was disgusting to her. Each one was a nice and neat square that she cut in half. No lettuce or meat hung over the side. It was precise, neat, and orderly.

  Sitting at the breakfast bar, he took in the neat sandwiches, the precise layering, and the fact she’d gotten rid of the crusts. Picking one up, he looked at it for a moment before looking to her. “Thanks,” he said, deciding that some things just weren’t worth harping on. Taking a bite, he looked around the kitchen. To his eyes he honestly couldn’t have sworn if she’d even been in it. Everything was neat and tidy, hell, better than it had been before if he wanted to make a big deal of it. “Now,” he said, taking a drink of his water before toying with the cap. “Want to tell me just why the hell you’re messing with Wolf business?”

  “Because the first murder was on my watch, then the s
econd and the third and I am the one who recognized it was a serial. However, at the time I was thinking that it was just a human killing, I didn’t recognize it as a wolf kill until the fourth kill and the tie-in to Benny.” She shrugged and ate her sandwich, not a crumb falling as she chewed.

  “So until the fourth you had no idea it had anything to do with the packs?” he asked. Her negative shake of her head had him frowning slightly and leaning forward, planting an elbow on the counter top. Leaning his chin into his palm, he watched her. “Now what are you going to do?” he asked, curious to see just what her plan was. He knew what he’d be doing, he’d be calling out death warrants on a whole pack and seeing just who was really and truly faithful to the long since defunct Crown.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted and put her sandwich down and toyed with the plate. “Werewolf-Human relations are more than a little strained right now and the bureaucrats want to do nothing more than save face and give the wolves whatever they need, but others are really ‘down with wolves’ and ready to hunt them down for the thrill of it just to kill off someone who is different.” Her face indicated she wasn’t about to let that happen. “I’m honestly at a loss, and that doesn’t happen to me often.” Never, her features implied. “I hate puzzles, and trying to figure out how to deal with this monstrosity of terror is a puzzle, and it’s not good.” She sighed and shook her head. “You are oldest of the wolf Princes, Laszlo. What are your thoughts?”

  “First, never refer to me as a Prince, it’s a death sentence for me, my brothers, and anyone that knows,” he said, looking at her. “Second, it’s a pack that wants the last of the Royal lineage dead. We’ve been hearing rumblings for months now, ever since Janos found Mina. She was discovered and his scent was recognized for who he is. We’ve kept her and Harker safe by realigning ourselves with the packs that were always and will always remain faithful to us. Luckily there are four here in New York, unfortunately there are six packs that are ambivalent to us and another three that want our heads bronzed on their walls. They have been paying the ambivalent packs to assist them with minute amounts of information. Little things that in and of themselves mean absolutely nothing until it’s put together with the other little pieces.”