Broken Bond: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (Claimed by Wolves Book 2)

by Callie Rose

  I freeze above her and lift my head, tuning into my wolf senses. Sable has that effect on me—makes me forget who I am, what I’m capable of. Shit, I don’t care about anything when she’s around if it doesn’t make her happy.

  Clearly, since someone’s pounding on the front door, and I was too much in a fog of lust to notice.

  Adrenaline spurs me to action, and I launch to my feet and slip into the hallway, snatching up our clothes. As we’re both quickly getting cleaned up and dressed, the knocking stops, and I exchange confused glances with Sable. But a moment later, I hear voices from the front yard.

  Dare, Archer, and Ridge are back.

  I don’t bother with shoes. Sable trails me to the front door, though I motion for her to stay back and out of sight. Like she’s going to fucking listen to me. She’s as bullheaded as a recently transitioned shifter.

  And I love her for it.

  I throw the door open and step out onto the low, concrete stoop. Dare, Archer, and Ridge are standing in a semi-circle in front of a woman I recognize.

  “Amora!” Sable says as she appears at my elbow. As the other woman turns to the sound of her name, she covers her eyes and squeaks, “Naked Amora!”

  I sometimes forget that the woman my wolf has claimed didn’t grow up in our world. I’m so used to shifters walking around naked that it’s just second nature to ignore nudity. Sable’s life was so sheltered, she’s probably fucking scandalized by the open way we free-ball it.

  Amora gives her a little wave. “Hey, Sable! Sorry for the naked part.”

  “What are you doing here?” Sable brushes past me and joins them on the lawn, ignoring my command to stay put in the house.

  I should’ve expected that. No use fighting her on it. That’s my mate, all five-foot-nothing and loaded with stubborn independence. I follow her to the group, wondering myself just what brought a North Pack wolf into this territory.

  “Trouble in the North Pack,” Amora says. “I was just telling Ridge…” She turns to the man in question with a grimace. “Lawson is making a move to take over. You have to come back.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Ridge curses with a snarl. “On what grounds?”

  “That you don’t put the pack first.” Amora rolls her eyes, her dark hair glinting in the sunlight. “You never put yourself first, so it’s the most asinine reason I’ve ever heard. But between you and me, I think he’s just reaching for a decent excuse so the rest of the pack doesn’t clue in to what a fuckwad he is. He’s been skulking around sowing discord since the moment you left.”

  Fury emanates from Ridge like a living thing. He paces away, breathing deeply as if he’s reining in his anger before he speaks again. “That asshole,” he growls, returning to us and swiping a hand through his hair. “I knew he’d pull this. Cowardly piece of shit.”

  I can’t help but agree with him. His brother is an idiot and an asshole, and even I know Lawson wouldn’t do fuck-all for the good of the pack. The only reason he would try to usurp Ridge’s station is because he’s selfish and wants more control and power.

  And that’s a problem in our world. Young pups get this diabolical idea in their heads that the alpha is equal to supreme power, when that’s not even a little bit true. The alpha isn’t a dictator—he’s a leader. These kids grow up equating power with the alpha role, and they’d never make it in the real world, leading a pack. Alphas can’t be selfish, not if they want their packs to be safe.

  “I have to go back,” Ridge says, putting a halt to his pacing as he returns to our group. “I’m so sorry… I can’t let this stand.”

  “Of course,” Sable soothes, her small hands sliding up his arms. “The pack has to come first.”

  I’m thinking of Sable’s bravery this morning as she stood up to me and called me an asshole. I’m thinking of how I push people away and never consider other people’s points of view. So before I can change my mind, I speak up. “We’ll go with you. All of us. As a team.”

  Archer and Ridge both turn to stare at me as if I’ve started exhibiting symptoms of witchcraft. Even Dare looks taken aback. Sable, however, just gives me a knowing smile and a proud nod.

  “We’ll all go,” she agrees, kissing my cheek so that my entire body runs warm from her affection. “As a team.”

  Ridge is a mass of tension and fury, so I offer to carry Sable on my back this time. He tries to argue—like he has some kind of claim on carrying her—but she pulls him off to the side and soothes him in that special way she has.

  After we strip and shift, I lean down on my front legs like I’ve seen Ridge do before, giving Sable a better angle to climb up. It takes her a few tries to get a grip, but then she swings up and over my shoulder blades and settles in for the ride.

  It’s… weird. I’ve never carried anyone on my back before. It’s not something we do. We aren’t horses or pack mules. But Sable feels warm and comfortable clinging to my fur, like she belongs there. Belongs with me.

  We fall into a sprint with Ridge and Amora leading the charge back toward North Pack lands. I think it’s pretty telling how the female shifter came all this way to retrieve him—how she watched out for him in his absence. I do a lot of judging about the other alphas, but somehow, I gloss right over the way their packs are loyal to them. Ridge must be doing something right to have such a staunch supporter.

  When we arrive, the windows of the council house radiate light in the early evening. It’s strange to be here again. The last time I set foot in the place, my wolf claimed Sable. It feels like a million fucking years have passed since that day.

  As we near the council house, I can see through the open windows that the whole pack seems to be milling around inside. Someone’s yelling incoherently, while a number of other voices are arguing, and even more voices are attempting to soothe troubled waters.

  Sable slips from my neck to the ground, and I immediately shift back into my human form. She’s already passing out our clothes from her backpack.

  “I brought you pants and a t-shirt, too,” she tells Amora, holding out the bundle. “Since you didn’t come with clothes. And, well, these are yours, after all.”

  Amora accepts the items, her eyes widening a little. “Thank you, Sable. That’s sweet of you.”

  I smirk and tug on my own shirt. Welcome to the Sable fan club, I think. My girl’s a hell of a woman.

  Ridge pulls on his clothes with harsh movements and stalks into the meeting house, slamming the door into the metal facade to announce his presence. The rest of us pile in behind him, backup and moral support for whatever’s about to go down.

  “What the fuck is going on here?” he snarls, his voice cutting through the noise of the crowd. Immediately, the room goes silent.

  A crowd of elders near the back corner are circled up around a smugly grinning Lawson, their faces twisted in irritation.

  So it seems even the elders aren’t happy with this turn of events.

  That speaks volumes about Ridge too. When I challenged my father and won, the entire pack rallied around me right away, including all but one of the elders—a man who’d been close friends with my old man for years.

  Lawson steps away from the circle of elders and puffs his chest out as he addresses his brother. “It’s time for this pack to have a true leader. Someone who watches out for the good of the wolves and not just for themselves.”

  My lip curls. What a load of shit.

  20

  Sable

  “You’ve put yourself first one too many times, Ridge,” Lawson goes on, malice in his words. “That ends now.”

  Lawson’s statements ring so blatantly untrue that I feel like everybody in this room has to disagree with him. I’ve never known a man more likely than Ridge to put someone else first, ahead of his own needs and wants. Surely, someone will argue that point? God knows I can’t, since I’m the one who dragged Ridge away from his pack these few weeks. Anything I say would probably give Lawson fodder for tearing into his brother, telling everyone ho
w Ridge is off fucking his whore when he should be leading the pack.

  But the room remains silent. The scuffle of feet on the concrete rises up into the quiet air, yet nobody speaks up. Nobody argues. Not even the group of elders, all of whom are giving Lawson looks of irritation.

  Ridge, though, looks stricken. He’s staring at his brother like he’s lost his way, some expression that looks entirely too close to guilt on his face. I’m dying to know what he’s thinking. He can’t buy into what that asshole is saying, can he?

  Then Ridge seems to pull himself together. He straightens, his fists at his sides as he exudes power and strength. Even though he’s physically a little smaller than Lawson, he takes up so much more room with his personality and loyalty.

  “I fulfill my duties to this pack,” Ridge says calmly.

  “Your words mean nothing,” Lawson replies with a callous shrug. “Put your strength forth. I challenge you to a fight for alpha status.”

  The word “fight” calls up a sick feeling in my stomach.

  Pain flashes over Ridge’s face, but it’s so fleeting, I’m sure I’m the only one who saw it and recognized it for what it was. He’s hurt. I can hardly blame him. It’s not like I have much experience with family, but I know the gold standard is for family to look out for one another, to take care of one another, the way these men do for me. Lawson, his own brother, has ignored the blood they share in favor of getting a little power and knocking Ridge down a peg.

  I can’t imagine how much that hurts.

  “I accept,” Ridge says. It’s only two small words, but the power they carry feels immense.

  Tears spring into my eyes and I cover my mouth, shaking my head over and over. Archer puts an arm around me and guides me out of the way as the North Pack begins to leave the meeting house for the twilight outside. I watch Dare and Trystan follow the crowd, their faces resolute.

  “We can’t let him do this,” I hiss at Archer, gripping his arms and trying to stay on my feet. My knees are weak at the thought of Ridge going up against Lawson. What if he’s hurt? What if he dies?

  “We have no choice,” Archer whispers, pulling me farther from the sea of exiting shifters so that no one will overhear our conversation. “No one does. This is how pack life works, Sable. All we can do is watch. He has the right to defend his place, just as Lawson has the right to challenge him.”

  My old panic rises inside me. I’ve worked so hard to tamp it down and work past the fear I lived with for so long. Ridge was a big part of my healing process. All of the men were in their own ways, but Ridge was the first to step outside his comfort zone and make a promise to me—long before he knew I was his mate.

  “I can’t,” I say, my throat clogged by unshed tears. “I can’t just watch this happen.”

  “You can. I’ll be with you. And he’ll be all right.” Archer wraps his big hand around mine, then leads me out into the cool evening.

  The crowd forms a circle around Ridge and Lawson, giving them a wide arena of space. The two shifters face off in the center, both of them shedding their clothes as they watch each other warily. Ridge looks hard-faced and stoic, and I can see the wheels turning in his head as he plans his moves.

  Archer leads me to where Trystan and Dare have taken up positions at the front of the crowd. The three shifters crowd around me, each of them touching me as if to lend me their strength for what comes next. I wonder if anyone in the crowd notices and finds it strange how I seem to have three men looking out for me.

  The air hangs heavy with anticipation as everyone watches Ridge and Lawson take their spots in the circle. Magic shimmers over both men, and my breath hitches in my throat as Ridge shifts into his beautiful, rust-colored wolf. He’s slightly smaller than Lawson’s burly blond beast, just like they are in human form, but Ridge’s inherent strength is more obvious in his wolf form. I cling to my memories of him carrying me for miles across the wilderness, of the power beneath me, his body all hidden strength and lean muscle. That’s how he can beat Lawson.

  I hope.

  Archer places a gentle hand on my lower back and leans in close to my ear. “He’s going to be okay.”

  I appreciate his constant reassurances, but to be honest, I don’t believe him. Not right now. Not for this. I have no doubt Lawson will play as dirty and underhanded as he possibly can, if it means he takes the alpha seat from Ridge.

  An elder I’ve never met or seen before walks out between the two wolves, his face set in a stony mask. I get the feeling he’s not happy with this turn of events, but like all the other shifters present, he’s not doing anything to stop it.

  He can’t, if what Archer said is true.

  The way everyone is just accepting this insanity—even the wisest men, the men in charge—makes me want to scream. What kind of archaic ritual is this? How is this an accepted method of choosing the pack leader in this day and age?

  The elder lifts both hands, and the crowd’s low murmur dies off. Then he clears his throat and speaks. “Ridge and Lawson meet here, in this circle, to fight for the status of Alpha of the North Pack. No one is to step in or offer assistance, or the fight will be forfeit on behalf of the offender. Both wolves will fight until one is unable to keep going, whether by injury or death.”

  That last statement tears through me like a knife to the gut, more painful than any blade my uncle ever sliced into my skin. I grip Archer’s arm, and some part of me recognizes that Trystan’s arm has slipped around my shoulders and pulled me tight to him. It’s only through their firm hands that I can stay on my feet.

  Ridge could die. The reality sinks in, and I’m unable to hold back the tears burning in my eyes. They burn unnaturally hot paths down my cheeks.

  The elder whistles, a long, sharp burst that makes me jump.

  And then Ridge and Lawson collide.

  The sounds are as vicious as watching the fight take place. The two men are nothing but a blur of teeth and claws, growling, snarling, and snapping at each other, looking for weaknesses and opportunities to hurt each other. After the initial attack, Ridge falls back and circles around his brother, his jaws hanging open as he pants. He’s favoring one of his front legs, which sends another rush of terror through me. If Lawson takes out his legs, how will he fight? I can’t imagine Lawson will allow Ridge to live if he’s given half a chance to kill him.

  With another ferocious growl, Ridge makes his next move. He darts in, and his sharp teeth latch onto Lawson’s neck. Then he shakes, sending the bigger wolf to the ground and following him down. Dust billows around them from the dirt, and for a terrifying moment, I can’t see them, can’t follow Ridge’s movements. Lawson yelps, and I’m buoyed by the idea that Ridge might get the upper hand, but then the larger wolf rolls, putting Ridge on the bottom and at a disadvantage with his sheer brute strength.

  Lawson’s teeth break through the skin and fur at Ridge’s neck. Then Ridge bucks and shakes him off, leaping away and skidding to a stop in the rising dust. The sight of blood on Ridge’s auburn fur makes me cry out.

  Terror runs cold through my veins as the two wolves clash together and break apart, over and over.

  My heart beats so hard I think it might burst from my chest. I’m terrified that Ridge will die by his brother’s teeth and claws, and I can’t help.

  I can’t do anything, because it will automatically forfeit Ridge’s claim.

  Ridge dives toward Lawson, but his brother dodges the attack. Then Lawson pivots on his massive paws and leaps at Ridge, catching him in the side before he’s able to fully regain his balance. The two wolves hit the dirt, and Ridge’s head bounces off the ground. His pained yelp shatters me.

  Adrenaline and fear surge through me, a tidal wave of emotion that makes me lightheaded. As if from far away and outside my body, I feel the magic awaken beneath my skin.

  Fuck. No!

  Fresh panic makes my stomach turn to water.

  I try to breathe deeply like Archer taught me, try to force down the emotions rampagi
ng through my body.

  But it’s too late.

  My scars begin to grow black, and a split second later, inky smoke pours from my fingertips. I watch it happening with the same wide-eyed horror I’ve felt as I’ve watched Ridge in his battle. And just like with him, I can’t stop this.

  Behind me, someone screams. The sound cuts over the yips and growls of the two fighting wolves, piercing my ears like a blade.

  I’ve been seen.

  21

  Sable

  The crowd around me stumbles away, more screams and cries rising up.

  Archer, Trystan, and Dare press closer as if they can shield me from view. They’re bigger and wider than I am, so maybe that would be possible if my secret wasn’t so publicly declaring itself to anyone with functional eyes.

  I cross my arms, trying to hide the black marks from sight. But even shoving my hands inside my shirt sleeves to stem the flow of black smoke doesn’t work. Thick swirls of it float around me, dark and wispy and completely out of control. All those days with Archer in the barn on East Pack lands didn’t do me any good. I lost control of my emotions watching Ridge in danger, and as a result, I lost control of the magic.

  It’s too late to pretend. To cover it up or lie. Everyone knows, and a ripple of horrified unease is moving through the spectators.

  The two massive wolves are still battling it out, oblivious to what’s happening for just a moment longer before they sense the change in atmosphere. They break apart, their noses lifting to the air, and Ridge’s gaze lands on me. His eyes widen, a low whine escaping his throat.

  Not a soul moves for a long time. I can feel the weight of a hundred gazes on me, and they burn through me. Nearby, Amora’s mouth is open in horror, and across the circle, Elder Jihoon looks as if he’s seen a ghost. Guess your magic sticks were wrong, weren’t they? I want to scream at him.

  The magic won’t fade—it stays visible, burned into my skin, branding me as a witch.