Real Men Heal (Blackwood Pack | Paranormal Werewolf Romance) (Real Men Shift)

by Celia Kyle

  Real Men Heal

  Real Men Shift

  Celia Kyle

  Marina Maddix

  Contents

  Real Men Heal

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  About the Authors

  Real Men Heal

  Who knew getting kidnapped could be so fun?

  Dr. Drew Cooper would rather die than give in to his captor’s demands. Only a suicidal idiot would kidnap the Blackwood pack healer in the first place, but to then insist he heal one of the rival pack’s members? Yeah, hard pass.

  Until she walks into the room. With fiery red hair, piercing blue eyes and curves that could stop traffic, Chloe Soren takes his breath away.

  Drew agrees to help so he can have time to convince Chloe they’re fated mates, despite her reservations. There’s only one problem—the alpha who snatched him just happens to be Chloe’s over-protective big brother. And the patient he’s expected to heal? Their dying mother.

  Shit just got real.

  Chapter One

  A strong hand ripped the smelly burlap sack off Drew Cooper’s head, shoving him from utter darkness to sunlight. Blinking rapidly, he took in his surroundings, surprised by where he found himself. He wasn’t in a windowless serial-killer van, as he’d half-expected, but rather a spacious SUV. Not that he had any room to man-spread in the back seat. Not when bracketed by two burly sentries on either side of him.

  The car reeked of wolf, but not Blackwood wolves, not his pack. Drew had never met this pack before—of that he was certain. His human side didn’t have the enhanced sense of smell his wolf boasted, but the wolf assured him these were strangers. The guy in the front passenger seat turned, meeting Drew’s stare with blazing brown eyes and a cocky smirk. Alpha. The driver, who kept giving Drew cautious glances in the rearview mirror, had a softer demeanor than the others. Probably the pack beta—the alpha’s most trusted advisor.

  “How you doing, Doc?” the alpha asked, a hint of amusement in his tone.

  The duct tape one of them had slapped over Drew’s mouth prevented him from telling the alpha exactly where he could shove his fake concern. It kept him quiet but didn’t stop him from glaring hatefire at the bastard. That earned him a grin from the asshole.

  “Sorry to jump you when you were heading home after working all day,” the guy continued. “We tried making an appointment, but you were booked solid. You’re a very popular ‘veterinarian.’”

  Dick even made air quotes. Just because he was the pack healer didn’t make his studied profession any less than respectable.

  Though he doubted they’d kidnapped him because they needed their pet squirrel neutered. If they were so desperate to steal another pack’s healer, their reason must be pretty important. The consequences for what they’d done were simply too great for anything trivial.

  They’d also been extremely careful not to hurt him during the process, even though he’d put up a good fight. Of course, he never stood a chance against the four massive wolves, but they could have easily knocked him out. The fact they hadn’t, no matter what he’d pulled, hinted that they needed him alive and well for… something. The only question was… what? They’d barely spoken in the hours—at least, that was what it felt like—since they’d snatched him, leaving Drew to stew in uncertainty.

  “Don’t worry, Doc,” the alpha tried to assure him. It didn’t work. “You’re not going to come to any harm. We just need your help with a medical situation. Newman?”

  Thick fingers grabbed the edge of the duct tape and, in one quick motion, ripped it from his face—along with part of his five o’clock shadow. It stung like hell, but Drew refused to flinch. If ever there was a time to project strength, it was after being kidnapped by a bunch of strange wolves.

  “Quite frankly, I don’t give a flying fuck what your problem is.” Drew’s fingers itched to rub his stinging face. He mentally cursed whoever had tied his hands behind his back. “And you’re delusional if you think I’m going to help you.”

  Drew’s expression turned sour, attempting to appear unconcerned, but the alpha saw through the façade. “That doesn’t sound like the Dr. Drew Cooper I’ve heard about. It’s not a good idea to lie to me.”

  Shrugging wasn’t all that easy with his arms tied behind his back and two big thugs squashing him, but Drew managed. “Doesn’t matter what either of us think. The moment you tossed me into the back of this rig was the moment you declared war on the Blackwood pack.”

  Everyone in the cab grew uneasy and very still. He’d clearly hit a nerve.

  “I’d prefer if it didn’t come to that.” The alpha’s tone was measured, words carefully selected, but the smirk fell from his face. “But if it does, so be it.”

  “Oh, it will. My alpha—Mason Blackwood, maybe you’ve heard of him?—will not tolerate a member of his pack being kidnapped. Then there’s the National Ruling Circle, and what they’ll do to you… if Mason doesn’t find you first. I’m afraid you just signed your death warrant.”

  A muscle in the alpha’s jaw worked back and forth as his driver glanced over at him with a worried expression. Drew suspected the beta had advised his alpha against the abduction. The alpha closed his eyes for a second and then nodded solemnly and caught Drew’s gaze again. “Maybe so, and if that’s the case, I suppose my healer was wrong.”

  Drew did his best to not rise to the bait, but he’d just been kidnapped, for fuck’s sake. He had a lot of questions, and it just popped out. “About?”

  The alpha looked ambivalent. “Oh, she just said that any true healer would help someone in need, no matter how he was recruited.”

  “Recruited,” Drew snorted.

  He hated to admit the alpha’s blatant manipulation had worked. Despite his desire to tell the guy to fuck off, a wave of righteous indignation surged inside him. That anyone would dare question his commitment to healing… Drew heaved a sigh at how beautifully they’d played him. Like a fucking fiddle.

  “What’s the burning issue?” Curiosity got the better of him. He had zero intention of helping the asshole, but maybe if he appeared helpful, he’d have a chance to escape.

  Then the alpha said the one phrase that could change his mind. “Serenity X-15.”

  Drew’s jaw went slack, and the blood rushed from his face. His skin grew cool, no doubt leaving him pale.

  The driver chuckled. “That got his attention.”

  The alpha nodded but kept his gaze firmly fixed on Drew. “Last month you were the keynote speaker at a conference in Ft. Lauderdale. Remember?”

  “Of course. It was a lecture to educate pack healers on how to identify the symptoms of X-15 poisoning and how to make and administer the antidote.”

  Serenity X-15 had been developed secretly in the sixties by werewolves as a means to break down prisoners and make them docile. After a number of deaths, the NRC had eventually banned the substance, but some of it had apparently survived and fallen into the hands of some truly evil individuals. Their illegal use of the compound on various wolves—including a young pup from the Blackwood pack—had prompted the NRC to organize a committee to study the poison. To make sure every known vial of the stuff was tracked down and destroyed. Drew had been instrumental in rese
arching the stuff and knew more about Serenity X-15 than any other wolf on Earth.

  “My healer, Trina, says you knocked it out of the park with your presentation,” the alpha spoke up once again. “She says your expertise is exactly what we need.”

  Drew frowned, brows furrowed. “Why? If she was there, she knows the NRC will send the antidote to anyone who submits a request. They’ll even email the formula, so healers can make their own.”

  The guy’s expression turned grim. “Tried it. Didn’t work. Trina wonders if maybe the antidote was for a newer variation of the stuff.”

  “I’ve researched it all the way back to its origins. There’s only one Serenity X-15.”

  “Fuck,” the alpha muttered. The guy’s bravado slipped just enough for Drew to see the pain in his eyes.

  His healer nature took over. “You said ‘newer variation.’ Exactly when was your patient poisoned?”

  The alpha exchanged a look with his driver before answering. “Going on twenty years ago.”

  Drew jerked back as if the man had slapped him. He’d only seen X-15 at work once, but that was enough for him to know no one could survive so long after being poisoned—not without going feral. The guy might as well have told him the patient had been on a steady IV drip of cyanide and rattlesnake venom for twenty years.

  Tension grew thick in the cab of the SUV as they waited for Drew’s response. He sensed they spoke the truth about the situation. They obviously held back details he would eventually need, but they weren’t lying. They needed his help. As much as he wanted to think his inclination to assist them was due to his calling as a healer, he couldn’t deny that his fascination with X-15 played a big part, too.

  “Fine. I’ll help you, Mr…” Drew quirked an eyebrow at the alpha.

  “Zeke Soren.” The alpha flashed a wide, relieved smile. “My beta, Warren Edgecomb, is our chauffeur for this little outing, and your two new friends are my best sentries, Newman and Rich with my enforcer, Levi, behind you in case you’re thinking about busting out the back. It’s not the proper introduction to the Soren pack I’d have liked to have given you, but hey… we’re wolves. Nothing wrong with a little gruff hospitality now and then, right?”

  Zeke was definitely a cocky alpha. And a new one, if Drew’s instincts were right.

  “Whatever.” Drew shook his head. “I said I’d help, and I will, but I wasn’t making idle threats a minute ago. Mason will have discovered I was kidnapped by now. Ashtown is small and someone’s bound to have witnessed you abducting me. You’ll need more than a couple of talented healers when Mason tracks you down.”

  Warren, the beta, gave Zeke a sharp look, but Zeke ignored him. He kept his penetrating gaze firmly on Drew, and when he spoke, his tone was low and deadly serious.

  “I’m willing to risk war, Dr. Cooper.”

  The blood froze in Drew’s veins. Zeke really was desperate if he was willing to risk the lives of his pack mates. Drew, on the other hand, wasn’t. He loved his pack mates like siblings and would do anything to prevent them from being harmed.

  Drew sighed, unable to believe what he was about to propose. Was he really going to protect the wolves who’d kidnapped him? Yeah, apparently, he was. “I have an idea.”

  Two minutes later, a ringtone reverberated through the SUV’s sound system, thanks to the miracle of Bluetooth. Mason picked up before the first ring ended.

  “Who is this?” he snarled with a ferocity that made the big, bad sentries sandwiching Drew squirm in discomfort.

  “Mason, it’s Drew.”

  “Drew! Where the—what the—Are you okay? Tessa was visiting Agnes at Delilah’s and says she saw four big dudes shove you into an SUV. What the fuck is going on?”

  “I’m fine,” Drew spoke as soon as Mason stopped talking long enough for him to be heard. “I’ve actually been—“ he shot Zeke a look that said fuck you, asshole “—recruited to help the Soren pack with an emergency.”

  “Bullshit!” Mason’s booming voice made everyone in the cab flinch, even Zeke. Then he obviously turned to someone standing near him, probably the pack enforcer and Mason’s brother, Gavin. “They must have a gun on him.”

  “No,” Drew shouted. “Mason, I swear to god I’m safe. I want to help them.”

  There was a long pause before Mason spoke again. “Tessa may be batty, but she’s not a liar. She saw you struggle as they kidnapped you. If they wanted your help, they would have gone through the proper channels and asked to borrow you.”

  “Let me jump in here,” Zeke interrupted. “Mason, my name’s Zeke Soren, and we did ask. But your beta—Kade, I think that was his name—denied our request. He claimed your mate was too close to giving birth. That left us with no other options.”

  “What a crock of shit,” Mason snapped. “I never heard about it. Even if I had, that doesn’t give you any right to kidnap—”

  “Borrow. And you’d to the same thing in my position,” Zeke snapped back.

  “The hell I would!”

  “If you only knew—”

  “Stop!” Drew’s outburst silenced the bickering alphas long enough for him to keep talking. “Mason, trust me. I need to see this through. It’s about X-15. It won’t take long to know if I can help—or not—and I’ll be back in time to deliver Lucy’s pup. Just call off the rescue squad. I’ll be in touch when I can.”

  Drew was greeted with silence. “Mason? You there?”

  Zeke checked the phone and cursed. “Call dropped.”

  The SUV traveled through the deep and dark forest, where cell signals didn’t always penetrate. If the call dropped before Mason heard Drew’s plea, it was entirely possible he’d send a rescue squad.

  “Shit,” Zeke growled. “Do you think he heard you?”

  Drew grimaced. “Guess we’ll find out.”

  Chapter Two

  Streetlights became fewer and farther in between on the outskirts of Tremble, Georgia, until the lonely road was only illuminated by headlights. Chloe Soren liked her little neighborhood, the houses spread much further apart than in town. She could hold a rave—or whatever the kids called parties nowadays—every night and never get a noise complaint.

  A solitary car passed her on the way home, more proof that her area boasted few residents.

  Exhaustion tugged on her after the long day she’d had at school. Teaching kids—even the mostly human students at Tremble Elementary School—was her passion, but some days were harder than others. She yawned loudly and glanced at the clock on her dash, bleary eyes squinting to read the time—10:30 p.m.

  After a tiring day of introducing her kids to the wonderful world of fractions, she’d stayed late for parent-teacher conferences. Most had gone well enough, but the rest… Well, no one liked to hear their precious little angel was actually a demon in disguise. Not that she could call any of the kids a demon. Mainly because the school didn’t want to be sued.

  After several hours of placating helicopter moms and trying to engage disinterested dads, her head throbbed, her back ached, and a weird twitch in her eyebrow just would. Not. Stop. Now she was finally on her way home. And she had big plans once she arrived—a hot bath, a bottle of her favorite beer, a fresh tube of Pringles, and Hallmark movies until she passed out on her couch.

  Rounding the last corner before home, she spied something that told her the relaxing night just wasn’t going to happen. She groaned and grumbled. “Aw, sugar!”

  It wasn’t the swear word she wanted to use but working around a bunch of impressionable ten-year-olds all day had set the habit of using clean language, even when she didn’t need to. Better to sound silly to adults than get fired for cursing a blue streak in front of her class.

  She pulled up behind Warren’s SUV, the vehicle parked diagonally in Chloe’s driveway and taking up as much space as physically possible. He hadn’t even left enough space for her to squeeze her small sedan in beside him. Muttering another fake curse word, she parked on the street in front of her rental house, killed th
e engine, and then simply sat and stared at her front porch. Spying Warren’s SUV made her exhaustion pull on her even harder than when she’d left school.

  Warren sat in a chair on her porch, watching her sit in her car watching him. She had to admit he was a nice enough guy, and she couldn’t deny his good looks—tall, blond, and with the lithe body of a swimmer. Warren Edgecomb was any woman’s—or she-wolf’s—dream.

  Almost, anyway.

  Despite his interest in her since they were pups, Chloe had never encouraged the pack’s beta. She had no idea why he seemed so fixated on her, but it wasn’t going to happen. Ever. She had no intention of dating him, or anyone else for that matter. He should have figured that out after many years, but the guy was persistent. She had to give him that.

  Heaving a frustrated sigh, she grabbed her overloaded messenger bag and willed her body to get out of the car. At her approach, Warren gave her a hopeful smile and a little wave, then he hurried forward to help her with her bag.

  “Thanks, but I’ve got it.” She side-stepped him.

  “Okay.” He fell in step with her. “Late night for a teacher, eh?”

  “Parent-teacher conferences.” Chloe sighed. “No offense, Warren, but why are you sitting on my porch in the middle of the night?”

  That smile faltered, and a twinge of guilt over hurting his feelings prodded her in the stomach. But how many times did a girl need to be polite before she was allowed to get cranky? Whatever the answer, Warren recovered quickly.

  “Your brother’s inside. Needs to talk to you.”

  “Good gravy, could this night get any longer?” she groused as she stepped past him into her home and then closed the door in his face.