LOGAN’S ACADIAN WOLVES
IMMORTALS OF NEW ORLEANS - 4
BY
KYM GROSSO
The characters, locations and events portrayed in this book are a work of fiction or are used fictitiously.Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
This is an adult erotic paranormal romance book with love scenes and mature situations. It is only intended for adult readers over the age of 18.
I am very thankful to everyone who helped me create this book:
~My husband, for being my biggest supporter. I love talking with you about the hot love scenes I write. You give me great feedback and ideas. You are my inspiration.
~My children, for being so patient with me, while I spend time working on the book. You are the best kids ever!
~Julie Roberts, editor, who spent hours reading, editing and proofreading Logan’s Acadian Wolves. I really could not have done this without you!
~PickyMe Artist, who helped me to create Logan’s sexy cover.
~My beta readers, Cat, Denise, Elizabeth, Gayle, Julia, Julie, Leah, Liz, Nadine, Sharon, Stephanie, Sunny, for volunteering to beta read the novel and provide me with valuable feedback. You are incredible!
~My street team, for all your kind words and for helping spread the word about the Immortals of New Orleans series.
Logan clamped his canines deep into the gritty fur until his opponent whimpered in defeat. The iron-tinged blood only served to further spur his anger. For months, he’d fought challenges to his claim as Alpha. Like the increasing winds of a hurricane, his power grew with every battle. Yet he’d been merciful, never killing another wolf. But tonight, he’d had enough. It was time to put an end to the challenges and force acceptance. As the sanguine droplets coated his tongue, Logan growled. The cowering brown wolf held still, cognizant that a struggle would surely bring his demise.
Sufficiently satisfied with the submission, the Alpha seamlessly transformed. His naked muscular body stood statuesque, rippled in unadulterated strength. Dripping in sweat and blood, Logan’s dark eyes narrowed on the shaking form at his feet then rose to scan the sea of eyes watching him, waiting for his next word.
“This ends tonight,” he growled, addressing the pack. “The next challenge set forth to me will end in death. There’ll be no mercy. I am Alpha. Who here challenges me next?”
Power surged through his veins. Logan sent a small threatening tendril toward his wolves, both a warning and an ultimatum. A faint murmur from the crowd ended as quickly as it started. The tension was palpable, yet the hum of acquiescence danced in the silence of the night. A binding calm blanketed the pack as one by one each wolf crouched down in submission, tails wagging, acknowledging their new leader.
Logan felt it as sure as he knew he was wolf; he was Alpha . He closed his eyes, allowing the energy to flow through him, amplifying throughout every molecule in his body. Every wolf accepting, loving, giving all of themselves over to his reign. The seed of dominance had finally germinated into a fully grown tree of command, providing the protection and guidance the pack needed for survival. Thrumming in control, Logan’s muscles tensed as he threw back his head, sucking in the chilled evening breeze. A victorious howl emanated from deep within his chest as he claimed his pack, his rule, his dominion. Rising to the call of their Alpha, the wolves joined in his song, celebrating their leader.
Logan stopped his call for only a second to nod in affirmation at his chosen beta, Dimitri. The confident but subservient brown wolf padded toward Logan, eyes darting to his pack mates in recognition of his status.
“Tonight, we celebrate,” Logan ordered, shifting back into his large silky gray wolf. He gazed upon his wolves, raising his snout in a cool display of affection.
As they ran through the night, Logan contemplated how he’d gotten to this point. Long ago, he’d been born a pup in the Acadian wolf pack, chasing to keep up with Marcel and his friend, Tristan. It had been mere months since he’d helped Tristan save his mate, taking out the destructive Wallace pack in South Carolina. Then, he’d come to New Orleans to help relocate the abused women and pups they’d found. That fateful night when he’d gone to Marcel, he’d found him shot and dying. Given no choice, Logan had killed the perpetrator, who’d been Marcel’s beta. Crying out into the darkness was of no use to stop the inevitable. As Marcel lay dying in his arms, bleeding out onto the floor, Logan had agreed to become Alpha of Acadian Wolves. Marcel was like a brother; he’d do whatever he asked. And Tristan, Marcel’s true brother, was Logan’s Alpha and best friend in Pennsylvania. But no more. He’d wanted to deny Marcel his dying wish. At first, he’d refused to say it. But as the life faded from Marcel’s eyes, Logan accepted his fate, speaking the words that would forever change his life; “I am Alpha”.
If it was only that easy. After one hundred and forty-two years of being wolf, he knew full well that his pack wouldn’t simply accept the situation, relinquishing the role of Alpha to him, especially since he hadn’t been home for so long. Rather than reneging on his promise, he’d fought week after week, sealing his commitment to Marcel. And tonight, threatening death to all who opposed him had been the final chapter in his ascension.
Logan had not truly believed he was Alpha until tonight. He’d been a second away from killing the wolf beneath him. Feral. Savage. Unyielding. This was who he was, who he was meant to be. He ran hard through the bayou refuge, leading the others. Acadian Wolves, his new pack, was his to rule.
* * *
As the hot spray sluiced over Logan’s tanned corded muscles, a million thoughts raced through his mind. Jacked up from the fight and final acceptance from his pack, he willed the adrenaline rush to subside. But even the high of the night hadn’t diminished the pain of losing Marcel. Nor did it ease the sense of loss that remained over being separated from Tristan. When Logan had agreed to take over Acadian Wolves, Tristan had encouraged him to take his rightful place, unwilling to hear any arguments to the contrary. At first, he felt betrayed that his friend would so easily capitulate to losing his beta. But as he’d heard Tristan say many a time, Alphas needed to make difficult decisions, put their own feelings aside for the greater good of the pack.
So in this vein, he’d made a conscious decision to do the same. Regardless of how he felt, his position and responsibility for each and every wolf superseded his own needs. He silently conceded that perhaps he hadn’t fully understood what that meant until tonight. Bloodied and bruised, he stood firm, claiming his earned position.
Logan reflected on his former life as Tristan’s beta. Nearly a half century ago, he’d followed him to Philadelphia. As the years passed, he remained close to Marcel and their sister, Katrina, who also relocated. His years with Tristan had been prosperous and for the most part, peaceful. He’d been happy. Content. Life was good. No, life was great. Then a single bullet had turned his entire world upside down.
As Logan floated into a quiet contemplation, the blinding, recurring vision launched uncontrollably into his thoughts. Instead of fighting the inevitable, he allowed the colors and movement to appear clearly, hoping he’d see her again. He’d been dreaming of her for weeks, yet with every vision, all he could see was her face. Angelic, sad hazel eyes begged him to help. Paralyzed, he could only watch her, wondering who she was and why she was in danger. Her full, pink lips called into the night, but he couldn’t hear her plea.
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