Feral Love (Paranormal Alpha Werewolf Shifter Romance)

by Walsh, Alison

  STAY! he bellowed at them. STAY HERE!

  Two unknown wolves ignored Blake and rushed past him anyways. Blake was on them in an instant, bringing them down with his powerful jaw. One tried to fight and a sharp nip to the neck was sufficient to stop him but the other slipped away.

  Chaos broke out over the pack. Other wolves started rushing after Locke. Try as he might, Blake could not stop them all. He lunged after one, tore ripped at snouts, snapped at necks, and clawed at bellies. Some stayed, but more rushed out.

  Remy shifted too and she stood side by side with her mate, trying to keep the pack in line. But there were too many and she had difficulty keeping track of them all. Every once in a while, she saw a shadow slip past her and she was powerless to stop it.

  Remy! It was Blake. When did he become so bloodied? Remy! Go after Locke! He’ll kill everyone at your village if he isn’t stopped.

  What about you? Remy asked as she snapped at a pup trying to sneak past her.

  I can manage here. Go! Make sure your family is safe from Locke.

  Blake… I…

  Go! He gave her an urgent nudge before turning his attention back to the wolves at hand. Many of them pulled back but there were still a few who thought they might sneak past them.

  Wait for me, Blake. She licked the bleeding cut on his snout, turned around, and dashed back towards her village.

  ***

  Something was coming. Aaron could feel it in his bones. Something that screamed of vengeance, something that demanded death.

  He pushed himself up from the floor. The blood of the dead was still sticky on his hands. He wrenched the door open as the low baying and howls of approaching wolves grew louder and louder.

  ***

  The woods rushed past Remy as she chased after Locke. The old wolf’s scent was slowly being overwhelmed by the familiar scent of home. She splashed through a stream, darted beneath a low branch, and leaped over tiny mounds of snow.

  He was fast, faster than anything Remy ever encountered. The snow he kicked up in the air swirled and made it easier to track him but the wolf himself was nowhere to be seen. Remy cursed and picked up her pace. Her paws barely skimmed the snow as she raced through woods and meadows and clearings. Every once in a while, she caught sight of another wolf but she ignored it. Only Locke mattered.

  Now and then, he would let loose a blood-curdling howl. It seemed to come from further and further away each time. Remy could only hope against all hopes that Locke might miss the village altogether but the familiar trees around her dashed that hope.

  Desperate, she reached for Locke…

  … and found herself nearly overwhelmed by rage and anguish. His emotions were hers as well. It shook her to the core, drawing something out from deep inside that made her wolf want to snarl and snap and tear and thrash until everything in front of her was dead.

  No! Calm down! She cried at her wolf.

  STAY OUT! Locke’s voice boomed.

  Desperate, she called after him. Locke! You have to stop this! You can’t do this! There are innocent people there! You can’t hurt them for something they had no part in!

  But the only thing she heard back was.

  Don’t tell me what to do, girl! Any collared wolves I meet, I’ll kill. Including you.

  And suddenly the link was broken and Remy saw the flickering lights of the village and heard the screams and shrieks of women and children as Locke and his wolves descended on them.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Pandemonium reigned in the village as the wild wolves loosed themselves. All around Remy were scenes of the brutal attack. A pair of wolves charged into a door, slamming it down. Snarls mixed with shrieks. An old woman was knocked to the ground by a wolf and it tore into her stomach, digging out the glistening entrails even as she clawed desperately to get away. Hunters were trying to rally a defense but they were overwhelmed by the wolves falling on them with teeth and claws flashing. Blood sprayed in the air and some held up their hand to fend off the attack. A wolf had a child by her foot and swung her savagely, slamming her head against a wall and then a tree.

  Some of the other wolves had shifted into their human forms when they saw there was no real resistance. One of them had broken into Justine’s home and chased her—still in her pajamas—outside. With a single lunge, he pushed her to the ground.

  “Hold still!” He barked as he tried to spread her legs.

  “No-o-o! St-Stop!” Justine shrieked and kicked at him. One of her foot connected and the wolf reeled back, his face bleeding.

  “Stupid little cunt!” He snarled and gave her a vicious backhand that drew blood and left her sobbing in the snow.

  Remy darted forward and closed her jaw around the would-be rapist’s neck. The man tried to shift but it was too late. Remy’s teeth clenched and she heard a crunch. The man twitched once, twice, then went still.

  Justine! Remy called out to her sobbing friend, who shrank back from her reddened snout. It’s me! It’s Remy! Shift! Shift and run!

  But Justine was frozen in place, her mind not quite comprehending what happened and instead of reacting, she simply shut down. Cursing, Remy turned away and headed for her house, hoping that Justine would come to her senses before some other wolf saw her.

  ***

  The shotgun was right where he left it. With a swift kick, Aaron brought it up to bear and aimed as best he could through the haze of alcohol. The barrel flashed and filled the air with the acrid smell of gunpowder. A wolf slipped in the snow and went still, steam rising from the gaping wound at its side.

  Fires were starting to break out all around. Some of the savages had shifted back to their human form and began ransacking the houses. Aaron pumped the shotgun and aimed it again. His finger applied the three point five ounces of pressure that spat fire from the barrel again. A savage fell in the snow.

  Then he saw her. Silver-furred with blood around her snout. He saw her and his heart broke.

  You’re one of them now… He knew what he needed to do. He was the Alpha of his pack. It was his duty to protect his pack, even if it meant doing what he had to do. “I love you, Remy…”

  The shotgun rose up again and Aaron squeezed the trigger.

  ***

  Hot lead pellets ripped through the air and tore through Remy’s silver fur, embedding themselves like a million tiny blistering sledgehammers against her. Her feet were lifted from the snow and she found herself crumpling into the cold.

  Am I dying? Is this what dying felt like? Remy thought as she tried to take bearing of where she was. Somehow, she felt no pain. She always thought that being shot would be painful. It should hurt at least a little, shouldn’t it?

  She turned her head to inspect the damage and found that the shot had only grazed her back. The wound was smoking in the cold air but apart from that, she was fine. The snow crunched nearby and she looked up at the barrel of a shotgun.

  Aaron… She closed her eyes and waited for the clap of thunder.

  ***

  His finger tightened on the trigger but somehow refused to press down. The shotgun barrel shook. Do it! A part of his mind shouted at him. She’s a savage now! She’s one of them! She’ll kill you the first chance she gets! But another part held him in check, restrained his desire for vengeance and blood. You loved her. You still love her. Haven’t you done enough?

  Her eyes closed. Those beautiful green eyes that he once drowned in. For a moment he wanted to throw the shotgun away and hold her in his arms, to kiss her and tell her that he didn’t mean any of the words he said, didn’t mean to hurt her, didn’t mean to do any of the things he did…

  Aaron… he heard. It was Remy’s voice, so soft that it might have been nothing but a trick of his mind. Yet a single whisper brought it all flooding back.

  The bottle of whiskey. Sticky blood running through his fingers. Faces and smell and memories whirled together until Aaron Van Houten fell to his knees, trembling at the thought of what he’d done in his moment of madn
ess.

  A loud cry—human yet animal—snapped him back to reality. He turned around and saw one of the savages carry the bloodied corpse of the dead woman out into the snow.

  He knew who the man might be. He knew from the moment he pushed the shard of glass deep into her belly. He knew from the moment he heard those terrible howls in the distance closing in. What had Remy said?

  A mate is someone whom you’ve seen in your dreams, someone whom you’ve felt like you’ve known your whole life, someone whom you feel a deep connection to. The other half of you that you can’t exist without.

  He looked back at Remy and saw she was stirring in the snow. Grabbing the shotgun, Aaron Van Houten pushed himself back up from the snow. He’d done many wrong things, so many wrong things… But now he would make things right.

  He would make things right.

  ***

  Locke’s cry shook Remy to the core and her eyes fluttered open in time to see Aaron push himself up to his feet. Across the snow, Locke carried Emma’s body. A large shard of glass was buried in her belly. Locke was sobbing but Remy felt the anger rising from his body. She stood up and saw Aaron limp towards Locke.

  The shotgun in his hand pumped once and its barrel flashed. A bloody hole appeared in Locke’s chest but the old wolf did not fall.

  Emma… the word hung in the air like an icy knife and Remy knew. She knew what it meant, knew and understood the pain and grief Locke felt. Yet it didn’t make the next few seconds any easier.

  She looked on in horror as Locke shifted. Grey fur covered his body as his nose lengthened into a snout. Long yellow teeth slashed forward and where a man once knelt in the snow, a wolf snarled. The world seemed to stand still. The wild wolf with his teeth and claws. The collard wolf with his shotgun shouldered. For a second, neither moved.

  EMMA! Locke howled and suddenly he was a grey wind flashing through the snow.

  Aaron raised his shotgun and squeezed the trigger. The shot caught Locke across the shoulder but only slowed him down slightly. Locke lunged and for half a second looked so graceful that Remy thought he was flying.

  “Oh.” Aaron grunted as the sharp teeth closed around his throat. The shotgun went spinning out from his hand and he fell back into the snow. Remy turned away but could not block out the wet crunch that filled the air.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The first thing Blake saw when he arrived at the village was Locke’s wolf hunched over Emma’s body, snapping and snarling at anyone who attempted to get close to him—wild or collared. There were several bodies around him already, including a man whose throat had been savagely opened.

  Locke! Blake stepped forward as the rest of the pack set about subduing the rebellious members throughout the village. Locke, enough. She’s gone.

  But there was no more reasoning with Locke. The old wolf who had once been as close as litter-mates with Blake growled and lunged. The single word came from him again. Emma…

  Was this what happened to wolves who lose their mates? Blake had never seen nor experienced such a thing in all his years. Then again, he’d never ordered mates to be separated. In a way, Locke’s suffering was his fault.

  Locke seemed to know it too. When his eyes locked with Blake’s, they flashed with hate and he attacked with such ferocity that Blake scarcely had time to duck away as deadly jaws snapped close in the cold air.

  Locke, I’m sorry! Blake rounded. A circle of wolves was starting to gather around them, drawn by the conflict.

  You killed her. Locke would hear none of it. His mind was set on one thing: to avenge his mate. He attacked again and this time the teeth found their mark. Fangs dug into Blake’s side and would have slashed deep beneath the pelt had he not twisted out of the way again.

  He didn’t want to fight Locke, didn’t want to do what he knew must be done, didn’t want to put down the beta who had been with him for so many years. But as he danced away from another attack again, he could see it plain as day.

  Locke was gone and only a husk remained.

  You sent her away. You killed her. You took her away from me. The grey blur rushed at Blake and fresh blood sprayed in the snow.

  Locke, you know I had no choice.

  You sent her away. You killed her. You took her away from me.

  Blake stepped aside again but Locke circled closer, his snout trailing Blake’s every move. Locke, where is Remy?

  He heard the same reply and knew that there was no more talking, no more words, no more reasoning with the Locke he once knew.

  He accepted what he must do.

  When Locke lunged again, Blake ducked, rolled, and came up from the snow at Locke’s exposed belly, kicking, biting, and snapping his head side to side to get through the tough fur. There was a moment of resistance when his teeth tightened around the ribs but the moment lasted no more than a split second. Bones crunched in his mouth and blood ran hot in his mouth. He dove down again, aiming for the neck this time and severing the great vein that poured Locke’s life—steaming—onto the snow.

  And the last word in Locke’s dying moments was Emma…

  ***

  Remy watched the fight in the snow with her parents. After Aaron went after Locke, she managed to crawl away and find her home. Luckily, the door was still unbroken and her parents were safe. Her mother had fussed about the wounds but she was relieved that Remy was alive.

  When Remy saw Blake arrive with the rest of the pack, her heart leaped to her throat. Now he padded towards her, with Locke’s blood still on his snout and his own wounds smoking in the air.

  She reached for him—with mind and hand both—and felt his emotions washing over her, drowning her in sadness and regret and grief. She knelt down in the snow and cupped his snout.

  Remy…

  “Shh.” She silenced him and hugged him close to her, feeling the warmth rising from his body. “I’m here, Blake. I’m here.”

  And he was a man again, trembling in her arms. Two glistening lines of tears ran down his face and froze on his cheeks. She ran her fingers through his hair, untangled the knots of blood and grime and sweat. She kissed his brow and murmured words of assurance only the two of them could hear. Yet he was still shaking, still crying.

  And suddenly she found herself crying as well. Crying for Emma, for Locke, but most of all, she was crying for Aaron.

  “It’s all my fault, Remy.” Blake whispered as his fingers locked with hers. “All of this… I should have listened to you.”

  “That’s not true.” She hugged him closer. “Don’t say that, Blake. You knew you had no other choice.”

  “I should have come with you. Not Emma. None of this would have happened if I came with you.”

  “Aaron would have killed you.” The fear of wild wolves ran too deep in her village. Even now, people were looking at the wild wolves cautiously. “And it would’ve been me there in the snow instead of Locke.” She cupped his face with her hand and looked into his steely blue eyes. “You did the only thing you could, my love.” Mustering a smile, she wiped the tears from his face. “Better stop crying now. Is that how you want to meet my parents?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  Blake led the pack back to the Wolfden with Remy and her parents in tow. Introductions were awkward at first but both Stephen and Maryanne Clearwater accepted the fact that their daughter had found her mate in a wild wolf. Blake had dispensed justice for the crimes his wayward wolves committed as reparation for the unwarranted attack before leaving. Six wild wolves paid with their lives.

  When they arrived at the Wolfden, all the wolves shifted back to their human forms and took their seats before the large bonfire. All eyes seemed to be on Remy as she took her place beside Blake at the top of a dais before the fire.

  “Brothers, sister, sons and mothers.” Blake started as he took Remy’s hand. “Tonight was supposed to be a night of happiness and celebration but that was not so. For that, I’m sorry.”

  The pack remained silent. The bonfire crackled and the
sky turned a light shade of pink in the east.

  “We’ve suffered tonight but we have suffered far worse in the past. This too, in time, will pass. The grief we feel for those whom we lost will be etched forever in our hearts but their memories will live on until the day comes when we join with them in the great pack of the sky.

  “When I first took the pack from Old Yaroslav, I promised you all that we would find a place where we can call home. Since then, we’ve roamed from the skyward pines of Siberia, we’ve passed through the mountains of Yukon belching fire, and we’ve found this place, among the brooks and streams and trees. For twenty years we dared—I dared—to imagine that we have found our home.