Her Wolf Protector Page 2

  With an exasperated sigh, Vincent, drew a few napkins from his pocket, pressing them to the bite wound on his hand. “Don’t you wonder why there are so many more patients in the emergency room these days, Georgia?”

  The blonde stiffened at his question.

  She supposed she’d been so busy lately that she hadn’t really stopped to consider. It was easy for Georgia to get wrapped up in her work, and there was always something going on in the emergency room…but if she forced herself to recall the past few weeks with any clarity, she had to admit that there had been significantly been more patients.

  Her shifts seemed to get steadily longer, and Everly had called her on overworking herself more than once.

  But it was autumn - edging towards the holiday season. People got sick more often, they were more careless outdoors...surely that didn’t mean anything. “There is.”

  Georgia jerked to attention at Vincent’s cruel chuckle. “I love that look.”

  “What look?” Georgia demanded, her breath frosting the air before her.

  “The one that tells me that you know something’s not right, but you’re too feeble-minded to do the mental legwork involved.” Georgia flushed darkly at the thinly veiled insult. It wasn’t the first time Vincent had called her stupid, and it wouldn’t be the last.

  “Vincent, if you have something to say, just say it.” She glared at him, wondering just how far he intended to take this little interaction. They might be in the back of the parking lot, but they were far from invisible. There were cameras on every inch of the pavement, and the little VW bug didn’t provide much in the way of cover. If he smacked her around much more, someone was going to notice.

  “I came to save you, Georgia-baby.” She cringed at the old pet-name - and the salacious smile that came with it. “There’s trouble coming, and this town’s just seeing the beginning of the fallout.”

  Georgia’s blood ran cold. Slowly, she shook her head in disbelief. She didn’t want to talk about this - she refused.

  As if in opposition to her incredulity, the long, lone, mournful cry of a wolf echoed over the mostly empty parking lot. Georgia inhaled sharply, closing her eyes tight in denial.

  No, no, no. She wasn’t a part of that world anymore. She never had been. Georgia paid her dues. She suffered five years of a sham marriage that almost destroyed she and her sister, and she’d almost lost herself in something she had never understood. Something she didn’t want to understand.

  “They’re coming, Georgia. Haven’t I always told you that?” At Vincent’s inquiry, her eyes snapped open. He looked positively gleeful at the prospect - as if he weren’t suggesting death, destruction and violence. “Haven’t I always tried to prepare you?”

  He was insane. Always had been.

  “Stay away from me.” When Georgia finally managed to speak, her voice was admirably steady. “And stay away from Ever. The next time you come close, I’m calling the Sheriff.”

  Somehow, she managed to get into her car and shut the door without looking at Vincent. Part of her expected him to yank her out again - to step in front of the car or even cave in the front hood - but Georgia’s ex-husband did none of those things. Instead, he merely watched her pull out of her parking space and make a beeline for the main street.

  Georgia didn’t breathe until he had disappeared from the rearview mirror and she was a good mile away from the hospital. When she pulled to a halt at the first stoplight, she found her hands trembling on the steering wheel.

  Her arm hurt like a sonuvabitch, but she didn’t think it was broken.

  Six months - six months since she’d seen him, and Georgia had almost forgotten just how strong and relentless the man was.

  She took a deep, calming breath, pressing her forehead to the steering wheel as her heart rate slowed in increments. How the hell could she have forgotten? Vincent made her life a living hell - and showed her that men were far more terrifying than anything that went bump in the night.

  That being said...his warning sent her mind towards unsavory places.

  Georgia told herself after she’d won her divorce that she wouldn’t have anything more to do with her ex-husband’s perverted obsession. She wasn’t single-minded enough to believe everything she heard about the people he called monsters, and Georgia had always been taught cordiality...but she’d be damned if she went sticking her nose where it didn’t belong.

  She’d already had enough of Hunters and Shifters to last her a lifetime.

  Chapter 3

  For the first few moments after he woke, Solomon forgot where he was. He drifted in and out of his drug-induced haze, his thoughts flitting from one nonsensical subject to the next. The way the sun rose over the mountains, stalking a deer through the valley in the early evening, the silvery pallor of moonlight…

  Moonlight.

  Everything came back in a rush of anguish both mental and physical as Solomon bolted upright. He was assaulted by the pungent smells of herbs overlying the copper of blood. As his gaze roved walls lined with jars of dried plants and medical supplies, his hands drifted down to his bandage-swathed torso.

  He felt as if he’d been ripped apart and put back together - badly. Though most of the bandages that covered him were clean, there were a few places where blood seeped through - wounds so deep they had yet to heal properly overnight and would probably scar.

  Though he was hardly conscious, the first inklings of rage begin to heat deep in his belly.

  Solomon barely remembered making it back to the settlement. Tempest met him half a mile out, and the sight of him had even her animal form trembling. Somehow, the two of them managed to drag Hunter’s dead weight back to Anne’s cabin, where the healer had already been woken.

  “He may not live to see the dawn.”

  The memory of her words was enough to make Solomon’s chest clench in a mixture of terror and fury.

  Dozier wolves had done this. They came onto Belleview territory unprovoked and attacked. They tore him limb from limb and left Hunter barely breathing - but Solomon knew their intention had been far more heinous.

  Those wolves came to kill.

  The old Alphas would have retaliated without hesitation. A pack war would break out within a week, and more than half of the mountains’ wolf population would be lost in the fray.

  But Solomon was not his predecessors. As pissed as he was, he wasn’t about to go demanding Dozier heads on pikes. His animal had done the talking for him last night. Now, in daylight, he had to think before he acted.

  But first...he had to speak to Anne.

  “Fucking God, Solomon!”

  The moment he stepped into the narrow hallway; he was almost bowled over when Tempest threw her arms around him. Her embrace seared through him, making him light-headed with pain, but Solomon wrapped an arm around her in return.

  The agony reminded him that he was still alive. “I thought we were going to lose you.”

  He grunted in derision. “It’d take more than that to put me down.”

  Immediately, a fierce growl rose in Tempest’s throat as she raised her gaze to his. Fury burned bright in her golden gaze. “Fucking Doziers. They’ll pay for this. We’ll make them-”

  “Hunter.” The Alpha cut her off firmly with a single word. “Where is he?”

  When Tempest’s gaze dropped to the scuffed wooden floor, Solomon could only stare at her, his breath held in painful anticipation. “Tempest...speak.”

  “Don’t bully her, Alpha.” Despite the stern tone she used, as Anne stepped from the shadows, she inclined her neck in a show of submissiveness. “She’s had a hard night.” The healer looked to have had quite the evening herself - there were dark circles beneath her cerulean eyes and her hair was swept haphazardly back from her face. The apron she wore was spotted with flecks of crimson that smelled of Hunter, and Solomon immediately feared the worst.

  “Where’s Hunter, Anne?” He tried to tell himself that whatever happened, he couldn’t allow his emotions to
rule him. Not when his life wasn’t the only one on the line. “Tell me.”

  Despite the burden placed on her, Anne was young for a healer. Her mother had passed only three years ago, leaving the position to her only child. Solomon told himself that if Hunter had died, it wasn’t Anne’s fault. She would have done the best she could. The best she knew.

  “He’s alive, Alpha.”

  For a moment, Solomon thought he might have heard her wrong. His gaze snapped to Anne’s - her faint, tired smile lifted a great weight from his chest. “He’s weak...and he probably won’t wake for a few days. But he should recover, and he’s already begun to heal. Most of him, at least.”

  Solomon opened his mouth to speak and found he couldn’t. Anne, however, already knew what he wanted. “I’ve put him in the spare bedroom.”

  By the time Solomon left Anne’s cabin, half the day had passed. His head was awhirl with what had happened the previous night, as well as the aftermath of emotions that threatened to rip him apart.

  Hunter was alive, but only just. He’d lost an eye in the attack, and he would carry deep scars for as long as he lived. The mountain of bloodstained sheets on Anne’s porch spoke to how hard she had labored to save him...and only further increased Solomon’s fury.

  The settlement was unusually quiet. Where pups usually ran through the wide spaces between scattered cabins, there was only silence. There were no barbecues going on, no women outside hanging laundry - hell, there weren’t even any hot-headed males sparring or the destruction they usually left in their wake.

  The whole pack knew, then.

  His mouth set into a thin line of determination, Solomon strode up a stone-lined path that leads to the northernmost cabin, where a thin trail of smoke snaked upward from the chimney. With every step, his injuries screamed and his head swam, but he’d be damned if he left this unaddressed. The sooner he spoke to the Elders, the better.

  The last thing they needed was anyone taking matters into their own hands.

  Though none of the pack was out and about, Solomon could feel their eyes watching him from the safety of their cabins. Then air he breathed was charged - like a bowstring pulled taut, ready for release.

  “Solomon.” He drew to a halt perhaps six or seven feet from the steps of the Elder Thomas’ cabin. The man himself was perched in a rocking chair he had carved himself - before Solomon was even an inkling in his mother’s mind. Wizened fingers clutched tight at the bowl of an aged pipe as smoke furled from thin nostrils.

  Thomas was ancient - one of the first Alphas of the bloodline. His milky eyes had long gone blind, he had a myriad of ways to “see”. “I’ve smelt your blood all night, boy.”

  Solomon shifted his weight slightly to take the pressure off a leg held together with fresh stitches. “I need to call the Elders to the council, Grandfather.” He stared straight into the white eyes that appraised him - he had never feared Thomas. The old one had helped shape him after his father’s death - it was he who had helped ensure that Solomon didn’t go the way of many Alphas before him.

  The way Thomas himself had once ruled.

  “They will be called, then.” The old one took another draw from his pipe. “Come here, boy, before your body betrays you.”

  Thomas was the only wolf alive who could get away with such insinuations - and for once, Solomon was glad. He might be Alpha, but at that moment, the weight of his position threatened to consume him - and Thomas was one of the few who knew exactly where he stood.

  It didn’t take long to gather the Elders. They’d sensed the tension in the air for hours - Solomon had no doubt they’d been waiting for him. Within the hour, he sat in Thomas’ living room, surrounded by the oldest members of his pack.

  Thomas himself held seniority, by far, but there were two more males who had once been Alpha. Dyson and Kendrick were his uncles by blood, but they were so unlike Solomon’s father that he wondered how the same bitch had mothered them. Though they’d been ousted by their brother one after the other, their knowledge of wolves and the Belleview pack was invaluable - even if they liked to hinder Solomon more than they ever helped him.

  With them were Sheila and Eunice - both almost as old as Thomas. They had outlived powerful mates - and for all Solomon’s uncles bickered, the two wiley females kept them in check.

  Solomon was luckier than most - the council had a mixed opinion of him. He couldn’t imagine what things might be like if they were against him completely. Better Alphas than he had been ousted under such circumstances.

  “Don’t keep us waiting, Solomon.” Sheila was the first to speak, her golden eyes sharp as a hawk’s. “What happened?”

  “Is Hunter alive?” Eunice spoke at exactly the same time, but Solomon had no problem deciphering either of their questions.

  “Hunter will recover...mostly.” He had to swallow a growl at the knowledge that Hunter’s eye would never be what it was. “But it was a close thing. The Doziers were miles into our territory, and out for blood.”

  “Impossible.” Dyson’s incredulous voice cracked through the air like a whip. “They wouldn’t dare.”

  “Trust your nose, if not your eyes.” Solomon’s cool response drew a glare from the elder wolf. “I’m still covered in their blood.”

  “That’s true enough.” Eunice made a face at the stench. “But what were they doing on our land unannounced? And why the hell did they attack?”

  “They think we’re vulnerable.” Next to Dyson, his brother meets Solomon’s eyes steadily, his tone dark. “The Doziers have always been a violent bunch. When they smell weakness, they attack.”

  “Not true.” Though Solomon knew he needed to keep his emotions in check, he couldn’t keep the bark from his tone as he corrected his uncle. “Raymond and I made a pact that has remained solid for the last five years. Before that, he and Father had almost a decade of peace.”

  “And I suppose this attack has nothing to do with the fact that we’ve only had four pups born in the last year? Or that you’re nearing forty and have yet to take a mate?”

  The accusation made Solomon bristle. “If you are suggesting that the old ways would serve us better-”

  “I’m suggesting that your lazy approach to being Alpha has endangered us all!” When Dyson leaped to his feet, canines already lengthening in his mouth, it took everything Solomon had not to answer the challenge. Dyson tried for Alpha at least once a month. Even at his age, he was far too aggressive and headstrong to realize that Solomon would likely tear him apart - regardless of his injuries.

  “Calm yourself, Dyson.” Thomas finally provided the voice of reason, turning his sightless eyes to the bristling male. “Solomon speaks the truth. We have held a tenuous peace with the Dozier pack for almost two decades. Returning to the dark times will not help us now. No, this is something else.”

  The dark times.

  That Dyson had even suggested such a thing was enough to make Solomon want to end him on the spot. The shifters in these mountains had lived as little more than animals when his uncles ruled. They sought a return to the way things had been under Thomas in his early days - before he had come to see the error of his ways. Days when females were forced to mate males against their will and bear pups until their bodies gave way in exhaustion...those were the hallmarks of the old ways; and Solomon would be damned if he let his people suffer like that again.

  “It’s Ephraim.” He finally answered Thomas, doing his best to ignore Dyson’s low snarling. “It has to be.”

  “That hotheaded brat?” Eunice scoffed, running a hand through waist-length gray locks. “He knows full well you would destroy him if he challenged you outright.”

  “That’s not what he’s doing,” Solomon rebutted. “He’s working on his own pack from within. Straining Dozier relations. I’ve told Raymond time and time again to control his brother better, but he’s convinced Ephraim is harmless.”

  “He is.” Eunice returned lightly. “He’s half-crazed and young, Solomon.”

&
nbsp; “And if he kills Raymond, and brings the Doziers together beneath his rule? What then?”

  Shocked silence answered Solomon’s words. It was the first time that he had dared to utter the suspicion out loud, but now, more than ever, he was certain that Ephraim was pulling strings. “Raymond would never have sanctioned an open attack like the one last night. I worry that he no longer has the power he used to.”

  “You think the boy would kill his own brother?” Sheila raised a hand to her wrinkled throat, her expression disbelieving. “In cold blood?”

  Solomon answered with a curt nod. The elders had not seen much of Ephraim, though Raymond had brought him onto Belleview lands before. They had been isolated from the sheer violence of the younger wolf’s aggression. If they knew him as Solomon did, they’d have been taking precautions for years.

  “So, your theory,” Kendrick had somehow managed to calm his brother, though Dyson still glared daggers, “Is that last night’s attack was evidence that Ephraim has taken power...and that he might start a war?” Far from alarmed, his tone was slightly amused, as if Solomon were a child he deemed to give his attention to.

  Before Solomon could defend himself, Thomas intervened. “There is a way to test this theory.”

  All gazes turned to him. Thomas, however, looked only at Solomon. “Call a Clansmeet, and see who answers.”

  A risky notion if there ever was one.

  While the elders were all in favor of the idea, Solomon was much more reluctant to call Dozier wolves back onto his land after the previous night. As he made his way towards his own cabin at the edge of the settlement, his mind buzzed with the events of the past twenty-four hours.

  The Dozier Pack under Ephraim? The very idea was enough to make his blood run cold. When he recalled Dyson’s implication that the attack had to do with his own weakness, Solomon snorted, sinking onto the front steps of his cabin with a wince of discomfort.

  The elders had been trying to get him to take a mate for years without success.