Wolf at the Door: Salvation Pack, Book 1

by N. J. Walters

  “Jacque?” He heard the concern in her voice and knew he’d been staring at her. Gwen was his miracle. He had no idea if she knew just how important she was to him, and because of that how important she was to his pack as a whole.

  He combed his fingers through her short blonde hair, wishing it were longer. He loved the feel of the silky strands against his skin. But the short, layered cut suited her better than longer hair would. It gave her a sexy, sassy look that made him want to eat her up.

  Her breath was warm and moist against his skin and her feet were no longer cold. Her breasts were pillowed against his chest and his cock was hard against her soft belly.

  “Gwen.” He had no other words. Only her name, and that was more than enough.

  Her gaze softened and her lips parted. Jacque pressed his lips against hers and rubbed them back and forth. Her breathing hitched and quickened. It was always like this with her. She responded so easily and quickly to him, giving him everything he’d ever wanted and more.

  He traced her bottom lip with his tongue, enjoying the way she moaned and squirmed. Her nipples beaded and rubbed against the hair on his chest. He growled low in his throat and kissed the line of her jaw and continued upward until he reached her ear. The tender lobe was a temptation he couldn’t resist, so he caught it between his teeth and tugged gently.

  Gwen arched her hips, pressing more firmly against his throbbing erection. “Let me love you,” he whispered in her ear. He traced the delicate whorl with his tongue, struggling to suppress his more animal instincts. He wanted to be gentle, to prove he was worthy of her. Gwen shivered, reached between them and caught his shaft in her hand. It was his turn to shudder as she stroked his cock from the base all the way to the tip and back again.

  “Gwen.” He didn’t know what he was about to say and never would. The world intruded with a bang and all the moment was shattered.

  Jacque heard the front door slam open. He launched himself out of bed, ready to fight. He could hear Gwen sitting up behind him, the covers rustling as she struggled to understand what was happening.

  “We’re under attack,” Louis yelled as he burst into the bedroom. There was a long, jagged scar ripped across his shoulder and he was panting hard. Blood stained his chest but the wound was already knitting closed. “Cole and Gator are on the perimeter and Armand is just outside the house. I don’t know how many there are but I’d say at least a dozen, probably more.”

  Louis’s gaze went to the bed and his eyes widened. “Protect her.” With that, Louis turned and rushed back toward the fight.

  “Get up,” Jacque ordered. He kept his eyes on the doorway, listening for intruders. He heard fabric rustling behind him and knew Gwen was getting dressed.

  Gwen was struggling to get a grip on herself. One minute she and Jacque had been making love. And that’s exactly what it had felt like—making love. There was a depth of emotion in every touch, making it different from any other time. He’d started to say something, something important. She knew that as well as she knew her own name, sensed it with a certainty she couldn’t deny.

  Then all hell had broken loose. Louis was gasping for breath when he’d burst into the room. At first she’d thought it was nothing more than an interruption. An attack hadn’t occurred to her. But it should have. How cunning to attack in the dead of the night when they would all be at their most tired and vulnerable.

  Gwen was already moving when Jacque ordered her to get up. She grabbed her T-shirt and yanked it over her head. Thankfully, her pajama pants were right next to it and she pulled them on. The guys might be cool with nudity, but no way did she want to face her enemies wearing nothing more than her birthday suit. Not happening.

  She grabbed the gun from the nightstand and the heavy weight of it gave her some comfort.

  “Shoes. You need shoes, Gwen.”

  “Right,” she whispered. She’d kicked off her canvas sneakers earlier and knew they had to be under the bed. She set the gun down, dropped to her knees and felt beneath the bed. It only took her a few seconds to locate them but it felt like hours.

  She heard the first howl and it made the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She sat back and pushed her feet into the sneakers, not bothering to unlace them first. She surged to her feet and grabbed her weapon. “I’m ready.”

  Her heart was racing like a runaway train, but her hands were surprisingly steady. This was it—life or death. Their fate would be decided tonight. “Go,” she told him. “You need to fight with them. I’ll be okay in here.” At least she prayed she’d be okay. She really had no idea what was going to happen, only that it wasn’t going to be pretty.

  Jacque spun around and she took a step back as she got a look at his face, a mask of feral anger with eyes that glowed red. “I will not leave you.”

  She reminded herself that Jacque would never hurt her and took the few steps necessary to bring her to his side. She gently touched the side of his face. “You have to. If any of your friends die you’ll never forgive yourself. They’re your family. Your brothers.”

  He shook his head. “You’re my heart.”

  That organ skipped a beat before racing on. There was a thump from outside and there was no time left to talk. “Go. I’ve got the gun and, believe me, I’ll shoot first and ask questions later.”

  Jacque grabbed her arm. “Come with me.” He practically dragged her down the hallway and she hurried to keep up. The sound of the fighting was getting closer and she could hear deadly snarls and howls just outside the cabin walls. She prayed Louis and the others would be safe. In the short time she’d been here she’d grown very fond of all of them.

  He yanked open the door to the utility room just off the kitchen. “Stay here.”

  She brushed by him and sank to the floor in front of a pantry shelf, using her bent knees to rest the gun on. She wanted to yell at him to stay with her, to not put himself in danger, but knew she couldn’t. He was an alpha, a leader and a fighter. The man she loved wouldn’t cower inside while his friends were being attacked.

  “Go,” she urged him. “I’ll be fine.” As much as she wanted to fight by his side, she knew in this fight she’d only be a hindrance. She was no match for a full-blooded male werewolf. The best thing she could do to help the situation was to remove herself from it. Intellectually, she understood that, but a more primal part of her wanted to fight beside her man.

  He started to leave, swore and then stalked toward her. He was totally naked and an intimidating sight, but she loved this fierce warrior with every ounce of her heart. He leaned down and planted a quick, hard kiss on her lips. “Be here when I get back.”

  She nodded and then he was gone, closing the door behind him. Gwen leaned back against the shelf and took several deep breaths, trying to slow her heartbeat. Her arms and legs were quivering, a result of the adrenaline flooding her system, and that simply wouldn’t do. She needed to be in control, had to be ready to shoot to kill.

  She took another breath, released the safety on the gun and rested her hand against her bent knee for support. “Stay safe,” she whispered. Then she settled down to wait.

  Jacque was torn as he closed the door to the utility room and headed toward the front of the cabin. He knew Gwen was as safe as he could make her. And he could ensure her safety even further by killing as many of the werewolves attacking them as possible. They were all cold-blooded killers, his father assassins.

  Well, he’d been trained by the best of them, and it was time they felt his wrath. He’d always downplayed his abilities when he was around his former pack, not wanting to draw his father’s or uncle’s attention. But those days were over. Now he had something worth protecting—his pack and Gwen.

  He went through the door, leaping to the center of the yard. Armand was off to the right, engaging several wolves. Louis was off to the left, fighting two. There was no sign of Cole or Gator, but he could hear more fighting off in the distance. They were sorely outnumbered.

 
Jacque tilted back his head and let go a howl of anger, of challenge. If the old man was here he wouldn’t be able to resist. But knowing his father, he’d send Andre Dubois to fight him first. Pierre LaForge would step in only when his son was almost dead. Then he’d take the killing blow.

  Not. Going. To. Happen.

  Jacque was going to protect his pack and his mate with every breath in his body. He threw himself into the change as a wolf he recognized burst from the woods. There were scars on the creature’s neck from their last meeting, but Andre was recovered and, more than that, he wanted revenge.

  They slammed together in mid-leap, two huge wolves attacking with teeth bared and death in their eyes. Claws raked Jacque’s sides, but he ignored the pain, inflicting the same damage on his opponent. They fell to the ground, found their footing and circled one another cautiously.

  Jacque growled at his nemesis, watching the muscles in Andre’s strong front legs for any hint of which way the wolf would strike next. Andre snarled, saliva dripping from his mouth and a wild look in his eyes. Jacque had always known Andre wasn’t quite right in the head. He enjoyed killing, enjoyed hurting anyone weaker than himself, thinking that made him a stronger man. But Andre was more animal than man and a crazed one at that.

  It was time for him to be put down once and for all.

  Andre struck hard and fast, charging forward and swerving at the last second. Jacque barely had time to swivel away to avoid his neck being caught between powerful jaws. He wished he’d made sure the bastard was dead the last time. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

  He went on the offense, attacking Andre with a swiftness that caught the other wolf off-guard. They rolled on the ground in a bundle of fur and blood, snarls and howls. The fight was short and bloody. Claws raked through his fur and flesh, but he returned the insult twofold. Andre went for his throat, but Jacque managed to twist out of the way and clamp down hard on his opponent’s neck. He dug in his teeth and held on tight.

  Andre fought with everything he had, trying to use his strength to flip Jacque onto his back. But Jacque wouldn’t allow it. He was fighting not for the thrill of the kill, but to protect his family and mate. That gave him an edge that Andre would never have, would never understand.

  The fight in the older wolf gradually lessened, but Jacque wasn’t taking any chances. He threw himself into the change and shifted to his human form in the blink of an eye. He reached down, grabbed Andre’s neck, locked his strong forearm around it and yanked with every ounce of strength he had. The snap was audible and Andre went limp in his arms.

  Jacque swiped his forearm over his eyes to clear the sweat and blood from them. The fighting wasn’t over yet. Not by a longshot. Several more bodies littered the yard, but Louis and Armand were still holding their own.

  He shifted again, knowing he needed to be in his wolf form to battle the others. He was strong as a man, but as a wolf he was unstoppable. He howled again and jumped into the fray, knocking a wolf off his brother’s back. The two of them tumbled onto the ground and the fight was on.

  Gwen wanted to cover her ears to shut out the occasional unearthly howl that echoed outside, but she didn’t dare. Even now, she strained to hear if there was anyone in the cabin. It was worse not knowing what was going on, but she’d promised Jacque she would stay here, so here she would stay.

  She wasn’t stupid enough to think she could battle a werewolf on her own. Sure, she had a gun, but she wasn’t experienced in using it. She’d gotten lucky last time. Plus, if she were to show her face, there was a chance she’d distract Jacque and the others and possibly get them hurt or killed. No, as much as it pained her to hide like a coward, she really had no other choice.

  The weapon in her hand grew heavier with each passing second. She had no idea how many bullets were in the thing, but she hoped they would be enough. She hadn’t thought to bring the extra ammunition, which was probably still sitting on the kitchen table where she’d left it last night. That is, of course, unless Gator or one of the others had moved it. She hadn’t thought to look after they’d left last night.

  Was it only a matter of hours ago that they’d all had coffee cake at the table? It seemed like much longer. So much had happened in such a short time. The more she thought about the extra ammunition, the more it bothered her. It was so close, but it might as well have been miles away.

  Maybe she could slip out and take a quick peek. If it was there, she could easily grab it. If it wasn’t, she could quickly hide again and be no worse off than she was now.

  She nibbled on her bottom lip, weighing her options. She’d still be in the house. And, truthfully, that’s what she promised Jacque. She’d agreed to stay in the house.

  Decision made, Gwen pushed to her feet, taking a few moments to work the numbness out of her legs. She’d been sitting still in one position for too long. It was probably a good thing for her to move around and get the blood circulating once again.

  Holding the gun in one hand, she crept to the door and put her ear to the panel. She didn’t hear any sounds coming from the kitchen. The chance was worth it. Better to have more ammunition than less. She had no idea how long the fighting would go on or how many werewolves might actually breach the cabin.

  Okay, she could do this. Gwen took a deep breath and imagined the layout of the kitchen. She’d move fast and quiet and be back in the pantry room in less than thirty seconds, if that. This was a quick in and out.

  She twisted the handle and held her breath as it turned. There was no telltale squeak, only an easy glide. Jacque obviously believed in good home maintenance. She’d have to thank him for that when this was all over.

  Gwen eased the door open and glanced around the kitchen. Fighting continued outside the cabin, but she was alone inside. Moving swiftly, she made her way to the table. Sitting right where she’d left it was the extra clip for the gun and the box with the remaining bullets. All she had to do was grab them and make a B-line back to the closet.

  She licked her lips as she reached for them. Sweat beaded on her body, making her T-shirt cling to her torso. She had her hand around the clip when the dining area window flew inward, splintering into a hundred pieces. Shards launched like lethal projectiles and she ducked beneath the table to protect herself. The extra clip flew from her hand and landed in the corner. She crawled after it, knowing she needed it now more than ever.

  A menacing growl behind her was all the warning she got. Gwen rolled swiftly onto her back and brought the gun around, firing it over and over. The wolf was in midair, making it a huge target. She hit it several times and it dropped. Blood seeped from its head as it stared at her with glassy eyes. Its mouth was open, revealing two rows of razor-sharp teeth.

  She was practically hyperventilating now as she scrambled to grab the spare clip she’d dropped. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” She repeated the swear word like a mantra. She had to get back to the relative safety of the utility room.

  But she already knew it was too late. Another wolf attacked and she shot continuously until there were no more bullets left in the gun. She ejected the empty clip, just like Jacque had shown her, and tried to insert the fresh one, but her hands were shaking too much.

  The back door slammed inward and a man stood there, so big he blocked out most of the ambient light. For a brief second, she thought it was Jacque. Then he spoke. “Well, well, what do we have here? A human. One in need of killing.”

  It was then she knew that Pierre LaForge had found her. She struggled to insert the new clip. Hope flared as it started to slide inward, but it was too late. Pierre was on her, grabbing the weapon from her hand, his grip so punishing she felt several bones in her hand crack. She cried out as the pain shot up her arm.

  He looked at the gun. “Should I shoot you, I wonder?” He shook his head and tossed the weapon aside. It hit the table and slid off the side, hitting the floor with a loud thud. Gwen tracked it with her gaze, knowing it was her only hope for survival. The fighting outside was still f
ierce and she knew she was on her own.

  As if he’d read her thoughts, he smiled. The gesture sent a shiver of dread down her spine. “Don’t expect my son to rescue you. He’s probably dead by now anyway. Andre had a score to settle with him.”

  She refused to believe it. “He’ll come for me and he’ll kill you.”

  Pierre laughed, the terrible sound grating her already strained nerves. “My sons are weak, mewling pups with no strength, no urge for the kill. I should have drowned them at birth.”

  He clamped his hand around her jaw and dragged her to her feet. Gwen wrapped both her hands around his wrist and tried to pull away from him, but he was far too strong. He slammed her against the wall, making her head ring and her vision blur.

  She was going to die.

  “Do you want to know what it feels like to be bitten by a werewolf, little human? It’s not like the fairytales. You won’t become a werewolf, but you will die a long, painful death. I think my son would enjoy seeing that, don’t you?”

  She shook her head, her mouth dry. Pierre’s face changed, his jaw elongating, his teeth lengthening. Gwen tried to scream but couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. Her throat was frozen with terror.

  In that last second, all she could think about was Jacque and how he would blame himself when it wasn’t his fault. She regretted she’d never told him she loved him and would now never have the chance.

  Huge jaws closed around her neck and pain unlike anything she’d ever felt ripped through her.

  The sound of gunshots coming from inside the cabin pierced Jacque’s awareness and he whirled toward it. The wolf he’d been fighting jumped onto his back. Jacque rolled, taking the smaller wolf to the ground. It took precious minutes for him to kill the beast. The gunshots had stopped and the ominous silence from the cabin was much worse.