Tales of the Winter Wolf, Vol. 1

by R. J. Blain

  For my pack, I was the one they leaned on when their wolf grew too much to control and rein in. Desmond, outside of my pack, outside of the strict hierarchy, gave my wolf—and me—a chance to breathe without the worry of the wildness creeping in again. He waited, silent and patient, as good hunters did.

  He gave my shoulder a companionable pat. “You are the judge and the jury. I am the executioner. Let us hunt, Pup.”

  I straightened and rolled my shoulders, and the chill of the mountain air and the fresh snow filled my lungs. “Let’s hunt,” I agreed, cracking my knuckles in anticipation of tracking down those who thought they could escape pack justice.

  In the trunk of my Porsche, I kept a thick leather pad in case I might have a three-hundred pound wolf riding in the car with me. It took a few minutes to latch it into place to spare my interior from Desmond’s claws. By the time I finished, he had transformed.

  While the fires of hell lit Nicolina’s eyes, it burned in her father’s fur. His undercoat was as white as snow and frosted with cinnamon-red. The tips of his nose and tail were black, as were his paws, as though he splashed through dark paint moments before. He sat beside the car, watching me with his bright yellow eyes. I left the door open for him, sitting behind the wheel to fiddle with my car’s in-dash navigation system.

  “I can tell you where they aren’t,” I said, pulling up the map where Nicolina had crashed the van.

  My car rocked as Desmond hopped onto the seat. He put his ears back, his gaze fixed on the screen.

  I pointed at the switchbacking curves leading to Lester. “I found her here, about ten minutes from the airfield. She had rolled the van about twenty feet off the road. She got lucky; had she gone through the rail any farther up in the hills, I don’t think she would’ve walked away. It’s a miracle she survived. That van flipped at least once.”

  It was an understatement, and judging from the way Desmond bared his fangs, he knew it.

  My wolf didn’t like how close to death Desmond’s daughter had come. It’d been luck and luck alone that had spared her from being crushed or colliding with a tree instead of rolling to a halt. When I didn’t speak, Desmond closed his teeth around my wrist in rebuke. I flushed and bowed my head. He let me go. “She came by I-90 eastbound, which means they were somewhere up in the pass area. She was disoriented, but she was able to find the road towards Lester. There’s only two or three places I can think of where someone could potentially drive in circles for a few hours.”

  I brought up the map of the resort area surrounding Snoqualmie near Lake Lila. “There are some lodges up here, but only a few are remote enough a Fenerec pack might consider using them as a retreat. While it’s possible that they broke into a vacated lodge, I don’t think they’re that stupid.”

  Desmond growled his disagreement.

  “I didn’t say they weren’t stupid, just that they weren’t that stupid. Remember their demand? They either wanted a lot of cash or they wanted Lisa.” I fought my desire to growl with Desmond at the memory of the young Fenerec’s lust. “Maybe the winter season hasn’t started quite yet, but the one wanted to mate. If he were mine…”

  If the pup were mine, I’d run him over coals, and if he were unlucky enough to survive the experience, I’d do it again until he learned once and for all that a bitch’s choice of mate was sacred. It wasn’t a lesson I—or anyone else—should have needed to teach him and his wolf.

  My wolf had plenty of mating lust for the both of us, but we wouldn’t—couldn’t—act on it until the one we desired accepted us. That’s how it was supposed to be.

  After the Fenerec paid for their crimes, I’d worry about how to deal with our interest in Nicolina Desmond. I exhaled, clacking my teeth as I tapped on the screen to magnify the map of the lodges surrounding Lake Lila. There were five off the beaten path but still accessible by car. Of them, two were straight runs to the main road, leaving three access roads that linked together and circled the lake, providing plenty of places for a confused, drugged girl to get turned around.

  One of them was nestled higher up the mountain, deeper within the woods.

  If I had been seeking a winter hunting grounds for my pack, it’d be ideal; it was away from Snoqualmie’s trail, away from humans who might become prey. However, it was close enough to the tourist attractions so young, amorous wolves might seek human, Normal mates.

  My second choice was almost as good, and worth pursuing. I pointed at each in turn. “This one or this one. They’re both ideal for young wolves adapting to the winter rut. Plenty of space, plenty of women.”

  Desmond flattened his ears back and bared his fangs at me.

  While I didn’t dare meet his gaze, I snorted at him. “What do you expect, Desmond? They’re young and it won’t be long until the full moon. If his wolf’s running wild, he wants his mate now, now when he can prepare her for the full moon and make sure she remains his forever. If he’s desperate enough to kidnap one of your puppies, he’s desperate enough to try to force the ritual.”

  Without Desmond beside me snarling his rebuke, I would have embraced my wolf then and there, so I might hunt them down and rip them limb from limb. He rested his head on my knee, quieting and relaxing, his ears perking forward. Once again, my rage abated as Desmond once again exerted his control over me. My muscles relaxed and I slumped in my seat. As my head dropped, Desmond lifted his muzzle, seized my chin in his teeth, and nipped just enough for me to feel the prick of his fangs without breaking through the skin.

  My wolf settled at the firm but fond rebuke.

  In Yellowknife, my pack would have joined forces with me and we, as one, would have dealt with the rogue. In Seattle, Desmond ruled.

  I sighed. Desmond shoved his nose against my neck. The fur of one of the world’s most dangerous Fenerec shouldn’t have been so soft or warm. When I was confident I was once again the one in control of my wolf, I lifted my arm and buried my fingers into Desmond’s fur.

  “Time’s wasting,” I said, regretting having to get up, close the passenger door of the car, and venture out onto the snowy roads.

  For the moment, my wolf slept, and I wondered if the tranquility of Desmond’s influence was what it was like to be human.

  Without my wolf’s bloodlust clouding my head, I considered my options. Torn between my two destinations, I drove to my second choice lodge first as it was closer.

  It was dark and the place had an abandoned feel to it. I unbuckled, turning to Desmond. “Looks quiet, but I’ll check it over anyway.”

  If Nicolina had dosed the Fenerec enough to knock them out, it was entirely possible the place would look dark and feel empty. Sleeping wolves didn’t have much of a presence.

  Desmond’s wolf-yellow eyes bore into mine, and despite my desire to lower my gaze, he refused to let me. I held my breath while waiting for his verdict. He bared his fangs, his ears turning back, but he nodded once and stayed in my car.

  I didn’t make it far before I froze. On the wind, there was a faint hint of cinnamon. I backtracked without turning, my gaze fixed on the door. I went to Desmond’s side and let him out. “I smell wolf,” I snarled.

  It didn’t mean it was the right lodge; a Fenerec’s scent often lingered. It could have been the wintering grounds of a pack last year. The two-storied log building was large enough for a small pack—and easily sizable enough for four pups to isolate and attempt to coerce a human female.

  Desmond hopped out of my car, his ears flattening. He didn’t snarl, he didn’t growl, but the tension in him warned me to keep my nose clean.

  Hunting wolves made no noise.

  I took care closing the door in case there was someone inside. Letting Desmond take the lead, I followed, shoving my hands in my pockets and slouching in my effort to force myself to relax.

  The hunt belonged to Desmond, no matter how much I wanted to be the one to slaughter the Fenerec.

  It wasn’t until I reached the door that I picked up the faint lingering trace of lilac from Nic
olina’s perfume. “She was here,” I hissed through clenched teeth.

  Desmond stared at the doorknob and waited.

  I seized it. It was locked, but that didn’t stop me. Tightening my grip, I called on my wolf and his strength surged through me. Human-crafted metal creaked and twisted under my hold, and with one shove of my shoulder, the door popped open.

  Dark curtains blocked out the light. When I stepped inside, smells overwhelmed my nose. I froze and breathed it all in. The sharp tang of arousal smothered most of the other scents, but my wolf hunted with me.

  Underneath it all, I pinpointed Nicolina’s cinnamon and lilac, as well as the sharp putrid fumes of her fear and anxiety. Desmond pressed against my legs, pushing me into the room. I stumbled a few steps forward before I came to a halt.

  He bumped his head under my hand, and while he was quiet, I felt the vibrations of his low growl.

  It didn’t take me long to find the four pups. They were sprawled on the couch in a tangled heap. A shiver ran through me. Any doubts I had were erased by the scents in my nose.

  The one who had lusted for Nicolina was in the room with me. Maybe Desmond wouldn’t let me taste his blood, but I’d take satisfaction in securing his death. I narrowed my eyes. There were two ways I hunted: with stealth, and with open, hostile intent.

  I unleashed my wolf and together we stalked forward. Maybe Desmond wouldn’t let me have full satisfaction, but until the Fenerec drew his last breath, he’d remember me, and he’d have a taste of the fear and pain he had inflicted on the young woman we wanted as our mate.

  Desmond’s glare burned into me, a silent warning to keep myself controlled. I’d obey, but I’d test his dominance over me. Maybe he would strike the final blow, but the rogue puppy was mine.

  All four of them reeked of drugs, making it difficult for me to isolate the unique signature of their scents. My wolf’s unease grew as the first two boys weren’t the ones we wanted.

  I didn’t need my nose to tell me which one of the Fenerec would die; the black taint of a silver burn marked his face from ear to mouth, streaking across his cheek. Delighting in the evidence of Nicolina’s fight, I eased the other sleeping boy away from my prey so I could straddle him, taking hold of his wrists so if he woke and fought me, he wouldn’t stand a chance.

  I’d crush the Fenerec’s spirit before turning him over to Desmond to finish the job. I bowed my head, pressing my teeth to his throat. I growled, biting down.

  It took several nips and shakes to rouse him, but when he woke up, the boy’s scent soured with his fear. He cried out and fought me, but I held him firm, lifting my knee and driving it into his gut. I snarled and dug my teeth into his neck until he quieted.

  My wolf wanted to tear through the throbbing jugular beneath my tongue. Desmond’s low, warning growl held us at bay. I let go of the Fenerec’s neck. “Rogue,” I hissed.

  “I’m not, I’m not, I’m not—”

  I raked my teeth down the side of his neck over the throbbing veins and arteries I longed to rip apart. “Silence.”

  Shuddering, the Fenerec obeyed. I dug my nails into the boy’s wrist before rising, hoping the pup could see my wolf’s desire for his death reflected in my eyes. I lifted my chin and stared down at the four of them. “You kidnapped a Normal with the intent to coerce or force her—or another—to accept the mating and pack bonds with you,” I accused.

  Confronting him left a bitter taste in my mouth. Maybe in time, if he hadn’t let his instincts run wild, he would’ve grown into a challenge, a Fenerec worth fighting for the right to court the girl with fire in her eyes and the will to poison herself if it offered her a chance to escape from her captors.

  The three other Fenerec began to stir. Drug-glazed eyes stared at me uncomprehendingly. I snapped my teeth at them, and they jerked as though I had struck them. Smart wolves would have bowed their heads and whined in the hopes of currying my favor. The three newly awoken did, recoiling from me as though I were a conflagration poised to burn them if they got too close.

  The one who had left the bruises on Nicolina’s throat dared to meet my gaze and remained silent.

  The judge and jury didn’t serve as the executor. That honor belonged to Desmond. I had to remind myself of it several times to keep my wolf at bay, though my gaze fixed on the boy’s throat and the throb of his pulse.

  I drew in a deep breath.

  The scent of guilt was sour like a lie, but bitter as well. It reminded me of a festering wound, something that would rot the spirit in time, if it wasn’t absolved, accepted, and forgiven. It hung from the three Fenerec cowering away from me.

  All I could smell on the one I wanted to slaughter was defiance and the lingering remnants of his lust. Desmond growled, bumping against my legs.

  Of the frightened, guilty Fenerec, little distinguished them, except one had pale hair and blue eyes, unlike the others, who all had brown hair like mine. I pointed at him. “Your name.”

  “Oliver,” he whispered.

  “Louder,” I snapped.

  Flinching away, he lowered his head as though a great weight had settled on top of him. “Oliver,” he repeated, barely loud enough to appease my wolf.

  “Why did you grab the girl?” I demanded.

  Referring to Nicolina as the girl infuriated my wolf, but I ignored him in favor of the four Fenerec I stood over.

  “It was David’s idea,” he whined, pressing back against the couch. “I didn’t want to, man. We just wanted to make that… that bitch to choose.”

  I bristled at the inflection on bitch, which was supposed to be used with respect. Instead, I got the feeling he meant to say whore, had thought better of it, and had changed to bitch in a last-ditch effort to keep me from ripping his throat out.

  I wanted to, but I kept still, considering his words. “You wanted Miss Lisa.”

  “She wouldn’t decide,” Oliver whined.

  Once I could restrain my wolf enough to resist killing the Fenerec, I leaned over Oliver, put my finger under his chin, and forced him to look me in the eyes. “Whose idea was it to grab the girl?”

  Oliver didn’t reply, but he slipped, glancing over at the one who smelled of arousal instead of guilt and fear.

  “Who is your Alpha?” I demanded, straightening and taking a single step back. None of them answered me, and my wolf snarled, which was echoed by Desmond. “Answer.”

  “Sanders,” Oliver whispered.

  If I wanted to let any of them live, I needed to deal with them before my wolf’s rage burned any hotter. Pack justice demanded death, but they were young, and I knew Sanders. When the Alpha found out what his puppies had done, they’d pay for a long, long time—and he’d probably text me photographs as evidence.

  The one wouldn’t leave to face his Alpha, though. I pulled out my cell and scrolled through my contacts. Feigning disinterest, I gestured at the one I planned to watch die to Desmond’s fangs and claws. “What’s your name, pup?”

  Silence.

  “Oliver, tell me his name,” I ordered, drawing on my wolf.

  If Sanders didn’t know something was wrong already, my influence over one of his pack would warn him. I hovered my thumb over the green icon to connect the call.

  “David,” he whispered.

  I dialed, putting the phone to my ear.

  It rang twice before Sanders answered, “Sanders.”

  “I have four of your pups here,” I growled, flexing my free hand as I kept them pinned to the couch with my gaze alone. Even the defiant David couldn’t defy me, though I could feel him fighting against my hold of him.

  “Who is this?” Sanders demanded.

  “Richard Murphy,” I replied, forcing some calm back into my voice so he could recognize me. “Charles Desmond is with me.”

  “Desmond’s there?” The alarm in Sanders’s tone appeased my wolf.

  “These four thought it would be a good idea to grab his puppy and take her for a ride,” I informed him, marveling at the utter calm of
my voice. My wolf savored the way the puppies flinched and whined at my words, even David—especially David.

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” the other Alpha breathed. “Is she okay? Which girl?”

  “They meant to grab Lisa but took Nicolina instead. One of them strangled her and roughed her up a bit. You own a white van?”

  “Yeah, the pack has a white van. Why?”

  “It’s in a gully near Lester. You’ll want to have someone come tow it off.”

  Sanders snarled in my ear, and I waited out his storm of curses. “Where are you?”

  “A lodge in Snoqualmie. The van’s about ten minutes from Lester’s airfield in the middle of some switchbacks heading into the hills. You’ll have to look for the busted guardrail; it’s about twenty feet from the road,” I replied.

  “And the pups?”

  I drew in a deep breath, held it, and let it out in a sigh. If I gave Desmond the choice—if I gave my wolf the choice—none of the puppies would live to see another day.

  But I was an Alpha, and revenge over justice and mercy wasn’t our way. I wanted to feel their blood, but there wasn’t a choice.

  The scent of guilt would cling to me as much as it did them if I allowed all four to die for the sins of one. I growled my frustration. “One is guilty. Three are not. The one belongs to Desmond. I will guard the others. You’ll have those back alive—bruised, battered, and with their tails between their legs.”

  My word was my bond, and Desmond snapped at me in disapproval. I didn’t dare meet his gaze. If I did, he’d try to overpower me, forcing his will over mine. I couldn’t allow it; I didn’t dare let him win, not this time.

  While my wolf was as furious with me as he was with those who had stolen away Nicolina, he understood pack justice. It wouldn’t satisfy me, it wouldn’t satisfy Desmond, but it would meet the demands of our kind and the Inquisition. The guilty died. Accomplices got one strike and one strike alone. They would learn, or they too would die.

  There would be death, but it wouldn’t be murder.

  “I understand. We have several lodges in Snoqualmie. If you tell me how to get there, I will come for my pups,” Sanders whispered.