The Fallen Cross Pack Series: Boxset 1-4

by Aliya DalRae

  Butch.

  Patrick didn’t know how he knew, something about the scent of him maybe? It sounded crazy as hell, but he had no doubt it was the lumberjack, telling him to be cool.

  Fine. He could wait.

  Butch must have sensed his submission, because Patrick felt the powerful jaws release his throat, and the giant wolf took a step back. Patrick stood again, more steady this time, and shook himself as he’d seen the others do. He stumbled a little, the movement making him dizzy, but he managed to stay on his feet. Butch eyed him closely, and that weasel Dewey was keeping his distance now, but the rest of the Pack had apparently lost interest and was venturing into the woods.

  The only other creature still watching was a mud brown wolf with matted fur, and a hint of crazy in his yellow eyes. Patrick instinctively looked away, somehow knowing that eye contact with this one could be detrimental to his health.

  And yet, unable to help himself, Patrick snuck a quick glance in the Alpha’s direction. Devaris bared his teeth at him and then disappeared into the trees.

  Butch gave him a nudge, come on, it seemed to say, and Patrick followed him down a well-worn path where Dewey was waiting for them. The asshole was still intent on claiming custody of Patrick, but a low growl from Butch had the scrawny wolf fading into the darkness.

  Butch and Patrick caught up with the larger part of the Pack, and joined in on their hunt.

  Patrick mostly observed as the Pack stalked a small herd of deer. He sensed a change in the wolves’ demeanor just before all hell broke loose. Wolves leaped out from everywhere, breaking into small groups, each focusing on one of the deer and working together to take down their prey.

  Patrick was eager to join in, but enthusiasm didn’t compensate for lack of experience, and he seemed to be in the way more often than not. Quite a few times he found himself at the mercy of one of his new pack mates, as they expressed their irritation with him via tooth and claw. One particularly harsh nip was enough to convince him it was best to stay back and leave the pros to their work.

  When all was said and done, there were six successful kills. The scent of fresh blood was intoxicating, and Patrick knew hunger for the first time in weeks. Starving now, and craving what was before him, he lunged for the nearest carcass. He’d barely sunk his teeth in before he was ruthlessly driven away. He snarled, and fought, but his tormentors would not be deterred. He managed to get away with a small chunk of meat, but with the hunger now clawing at his belly, he knew it would be nowhere near enough.

  He slunk to the perimeter of the group to enjoy his morsel, and watched as the rest went about feeding. There seemed to be a pecking order with the strongest wolves partaking first while the lesser Pack waited their turn.

  Patrick noted that no one ate until the Alpha had chosen his meal, and once done, several others chose theirs. Being the new guy on the block, Patrick would be lucky to get another scrap, so he enjoyed what he had stolen before it could be taken away from him.

  Butch was among the first group to dine, and he didn’t hesitate to tear into the hide of a small doe. Patrick licked the blood from his nose and took the opportunity to seek out his true quarry while his babysitter was otherwise occupied.

  Obviously counted among the weak, Dewey held back at the edge of the Pack, seeming to have fewer friends in wolf form than he did as a human. Patrick slipped through the trees, doing his best to sneak up on the lone wolf by following the techniques he’d seen the others use when stalking the deer.

  Dewey must have sensed him, because he yelped and ran before Patrick could lay claws on him. Patrick gave chase, becoming more and more comfortable in his new body with each stride. When Dewey zigged, Patrick zagged, gaining ground with each powerful leap and bound.

  The sounds of the feeding Pack grew faint as he chased Dewey into the woods, and Patrick was grateful the others were too busy to keep him from his goal.

  One mighty leap more and Patrick had him. The weaker wolf whined, his tail tucked firmly between his legs as he tried to submit, to protect himself, but Patrick was having none of it. He didn’t know the rules, didn’t care if there were any. All he knew was he was here because this creature had chosen to steal him away from his wife and daughter.

  Old Patrick would have felt sorry for him, would have tried to help him realize the error of his ways. Old Patrick would have been kind.

  Old Patrick was an idiot, a fact that no longer mattered because that man was gone forever. Thanks to Dewey, the kinder, gentler Patrick O’Connell was a thing of the past, and all that was left was an angry, vengeful animal.

  Patrick never did remember exactly how the kill went down. He remembered the blood filling his mouth, and the feeling of satisfaction as his prey breathed its last. He also remembered being attacked by several of the Pack who had realized the two of them were missing, Butch chief among them.

  Patrick felt Butch’s disappointment in that bizarre Pack awareness he was learning to recognize, and for that he was a tiny bit sorry. For the most part, though, he felt vindicated. It wouldn’t get him his life back, but that asshole would never do to anyone else what he had done to Patrick.

  He would soon learn, however, that killing Dewey was like biting off the tail of a snake. It didn’t even begin to solve the problem.

  Chapter Eight

  H e lay in that shadowy state, somewhere between the world of dreams and that of reality, his body cold in places, warm in others. When he tried to roll over, he felt the weight of an arm and a leg draped over him, bare skin touching, and his body responded immediately.

  Maggie.

  He maneuvered himself above her, buried his nose in the crook of her neck as he prepared to enter her. She moaned beneath him, raising her hips to greet him, winding her arms around his neck as she kissed and nipped at his shoulder.

  The air was cool around them, the night still dark, but she was warm in all the right places, wrapping him inside her and loving him as only she could. With a muffled cry, she exploded in his arms, her body writhing in bliss, tightening around him, and his release soon followed.

  They lay together, joined as one, exhaustion carrying him back into the world of slumber. Maggie, he thought as he drifted back to sleep.

  Maggie…

  ~~~~~

  Patrick woke with a start. Something was wrong, horribly wrong.

  He sat bolt upright, the woman wrapped around him sliding roughly to the forest floor where she woke abruptly.

  “What the hell?” she said, dragging a hand through her hair, transferring dried leaves from her fingers into the dark tangles around her face.

  “Nadia?” Patrick scrambled away from her, scrubbing his eyes to erase the remnants of what he hoped was a dream.

  “Hey,” she said, crawling toward him provocatively and reaching for him in a much-too-familiar way. “Come back and give me a proper good morning.”

  “What?” Patrick backed further away, trying to get his bearings.

  “What, what?” she said, the playful act dropping away. She was naked—for chrissakes, he was naked—and she just sat there like it was the most natural thing in the world for them to be together like this.

  “I’m…I’m married,” Patrick said, not sure who he was reminding.

  “Honey, you should have thought of that last night,” she teased, sitting up tall and letting her knees fall open to reveal all of her substantial assets.

  “No,” Patrick moaned, burying his face in his hands. “No, no, no, no, no…”

  Nadia, pulled herself together, and reached for him, this time to comfort rather than provoke. “It’s okay,” she said, patting his knee. Patrick peeked through his fingers to look at her. “It was your first change, and it’s natural to come out of it a little…amorous.” She smiled, but it wasn’t helping.

  “You mean you and me?” he asked, not wanting to believe it.

  “Of course,” she said, brushing forest debris from her knees. “You are quite the lover,” she added, matter-of-f
act. “Killing Dewey probably added to your…enthusiasm.” She shrugged, then stood and stretched. She really was quite lovely, but that didn’t change a thing. He’d cheated on Maggie.

  “Come on,” Nadia said, reaching to give him a hand up. “It’s not your fault. Stop blaming yourself. You were just doing what comes natural.”

  “Why didn’t you stop me?” He ignored her hand, still unable to believe this was happening.

  “From what? Killing Dewey or fucking me?” When Patrick didn’t respond, she answered her own question. “I didn’t stop you killing Dewey because he was an asshole who needed killing. Trust me he won’t be missed. You have managed to get the Alpha’s attention, though. There aren’t too many new wolves who can manage to kill a rabbit on their first night, let alone an established Pack member.”

  “I was motivated,” Patrick mumbled, rubbing at his eyes again.

  “As for the other?” She straddled him where he sat and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Because I wanted to be fucked.”

  She grabbed his arms and, with way more strength than a girl her size should have, lifted him to his feet.

  “Where are we?” he asked, ignoring her last words. He looked around, but all he could see were trees. They could be anywhere.

  “Not far from home. We’ll be there before breakfast if we go now.”

  “Nadia?” She’d already turned and was heading down a leaf-strewn path. She looked a question over her shoulder but didn’t stop or speak.

  “This can never happen again.”

  “Whatever you say, lover boy. Now come on, before all the bacon’s gone.”

  Chapter Nine

  B reakfast was an interesting affair.

  Nadia found them some clothes to wear before leading Patrick into a large, narrow room. Long, roughhewn tables were lined up end to end, what looked like the entire Pack filling the benches along both sides. A single, ornate chair sat at the head of the table and was occupied by the Alpha.

  When Patrick and Nadia walked in, the room stilled. Not a whisper, not even the scraping of a fork, interrupted the silence. Aware that they were all staring at him, Patrick stopped in his tracks, but Nadia grabbed his arm and pulled him toward an empty space near the Alpha’s place of honor. She had to tug a couple of times to get him moving, but what choice did he have?

  Devaris watched him the entire time.

  Once the pair was seated, Patrick assumed that breakfast would continue, but he was wrong. Nobody moved a muscle. More than fifty wolves-in-human-clothing filled the room, and not one of them so much as flinched.

  The tables were laden with every breakfast dish you could imagine, from pancakes and French toast to scrambled eggs, and sausages of every shape and size. And each table held a giant platter of bacon, though some were more full than others. All of this Sunday morning deliciousness grew cold as the Pack waited for their leader to speak.

  Patrick stared at the empty plate in front of him. Something momentous was happening around him, another one of those things he just knew, so he refrained from reaching for the bacon, in spite of the grumbling in his belly.

  He also resisted the urge to look at the Alpha, until the sound of one man clapping filled the room. He whipped his head up and looked Devaris right in the eye. The man continued his solo ovation, in spite of Patrick’s brazen stare. An elbow in his ribs had Patrick returning his eyes to his plate, only to raise them again when another person joined in the applause.

  Patrick looked around to find Butch standing on his feet, pounding his meaty palms together, enthusiastically following his Alpha’s lead. Before long, almost everyone in the entire room was standing, clapping and cheering, pounding their feet on the floor and their fists on the table.

  Patrick glanced at Nadia. She was grinning from ear to ear and slapped him on the back when he caught her eye.

  Patrick tried to feel something other than shame, to somehow acknowledge the attention he was being given, but he couldn’t. Obviously, Nadia was right, and Dewey wasn’t going to be missed by many. But that didn’t change the fact that Patrick was trapped in a situation he would never have chosen, sitting next to a woman he’d screwed but didn’t love.

  The cheers halted almost at once, at some unseen gesture from the Alpha, Patrick was sure, and the Pack reclaimed their seats.

  Devaris remained standing. When he spoke, it was with the same authority Patrick remembered from their first meeting, and from the clearing the night before.

  “As you are aware, our newest member, Patrick, has survived his first change.”

  Patrick looked to the Alpha, but another swift elbow had him averting his gaze.

  “Not only has he survived, it seems he’s managed to rid us of an annoying little problem.” There was some muttering of assent, but when Patrick glanced down the length of the table he noticed several men staring daggers at him. Not everyone hated Dewey, it would seem.

  “Patrick, if you would look at me, please.”

  Patrick glanced at Nadia to avoid another elbow, and at her nod turned his eyes to the Alpha.

  “I’m impressed,” Devaris said. “I truly am.”

  Next thing Patrick knew there was a hand around his throat and he was being pulled from his seat, the Alpha forcing Patrick to look him right in the eye.

  “But if you ever,” Devaris continued, squeezing Patrick’s throat tighter and tighter with each word, “ever eyeball me like that again, I will rip your throat out and feed you to this lot on the next full moon. Do I make myself clear?”

  Patrick tried to look away, but the man was larger than him, with the strength of an Alpha behind him. He shook Patrick like a rag doll until their eyes met again.

  “Am. I. Clear?”

  Fear washed through Patrick, and he knew without a doubt that this was not a man to be tested. He tried to answer in the affirmative, but the hand gripping his throat made actual words impossible. He nodded as best he could, and Devaris eased up a bit on his grip.

  “I can’t hear you, asshole. I said, am I clear?”

  “Yes,” Patrick whispered. “Clear.”

  The Alpha pushed him away, leaving Patrick to lie sprawling on the floor at Nadia’s feet. Devaris returned to his fancy chair, picked up a slice of bacon, and snapped it in two between his teeth. He stared at Patrick with hard, cold eyes, the warning unmistakable.

  Indeed, everything had become crystal clear.

  With the show over, the Pack returned to their meal. Patrick could feel Devaris’ eyes on him as the man two-fisted the contents of his plate into his pie hole.

  Nadia was taking great pains to avoid looking at Patrick at all, and that small group of angry wolves smirked at him from down the table as he stood to retake his seat.

  In that moment, any part of Patrick that had survived the previous night died. It shriveled up inside him like a plum left too long in the sun.

  From this point forward, he would bide his time. Fuck the Alpha, fuck the Pack, and fuck Nadia (though never in “that way” again). It was every man—every wolf—for himself.

  Someday, maybe not today, maybe not this year, but someday he would be rid of them all. He would return to his family and resume his life, in spite of the little lupine problem he now had to deal with.

  He would not be held captive by this Pack of degenerates, nor the disease they’d infected him with. And anyone who stood in his way would find themselves chasing deer with Dewey in that happy hunting ground in the sky.

  Chapter Ten

  P atrick spent the next few weeks learning the ropes. After that first breakfast, Nadia led him to a crude cabin and informed him this was where he would be staying. She told him she would go shopping for anything he needed, and not to worry. The Pack would take care of him. That sounded a lot nicer than the reality of things.

  The compound where they lived had once been a summer camp for kids. It was probably decent in its heyday, but to Patrick it felt more like where that crazy cult guy had kept all those people and co
nvinced them to drink the fruit punch. The only difference? Here the fruit punch didn’t kill you. It just made you wish it would.

  The first thing Patrick learned was that there were two kinds of wolves in this Pack: those who followed the rules and did everything the Alpha told them to do, and dead ones.

  According to Butch, they were fairly lenient with the newly turned, expecting a certain level of rebellion, and Patrick planned to push it to the maximum limit. However, that didn’t mean dissention would go unpunished. Dewey’s old friends were always happy to volunteer for that duty where Patrick was concerned.

  While his confrontations with the Dumbasses occurred more often than was wise, Patrick continued to buck the system. And even though he came out of those beatings the worse for wear, it was satisfying for him to know that the Dumbasses limped away with their own share of injuries.

  At first, Nadia tried to keep him out of trouble, but Patrick’s issues with her ran deeper than general contempt. He had yet to forgive himself, or her, for what happened after his first change. Just because he couldn’t be with his wife, didn’t mean he was willing to throw away the vows he’d made to her. Aware now that his wolf could lead him astray, Patrick would make certain to stay away from her or any other bitches, especially during the full moon. There would be no repeat performance of that night, and he made it clear to her that he preferred her at arm’s length.

  The other problem Patrick had was a complete and utter lack of respect for the man who led them. Devaris was cruel and ruthless. He controlled the Pack through fear, using the wolves as his personal army to distribute drugs and guns to the lowlifes of the world, and killing any who dared to stand against him.

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the majority of the wolves in the Pack were only there because they had nowhere else to go, Patrick included. Most simply kept their heads down and did as they were told, but Patrick found that nearly impossible.