Terry Spear - Heart of the Wolf

The wolves grew restless as he continued to wait. Several wolves held their tails straight out behind them, indicating their apprehension. Then, with resolve, Devlyn clamped his jaws down on Nicol’s throat, crushing the neck bone with a powerful snap, ending the fourth-generation big game hunter’s life instantly.

The one who’d been watching Bella immediately leapt for Devlyn, nearly sixteen feet through the air, the longest distance a wolf could leap. This time, Devlyn didn’t react quickly enough. Simon knocked him on his hip.

Bella lunged forward, but two of the other males blocked her from interceding. Females fought females, never males—the unwritten rule passed down from generation to generation.

She growled at them. They bowed their heads to her, showing that they had no intention of fighting her but wouldn’t move out of her path.

Again she growled, baring her teeth at one and then the other, preparing herself to attack. She couldn’t watch Simon hurt her mate. The strain of the fighting and the tension that had built up in her system keyed her higher than an active volcano built up steam, ready to explode.

When neither of the reds would move out of her path, she snarled and snapped at the one to her right, intent on having her way. Immediately, the one to her left pounced on her. He pinned her to her side against the pine needle floor. She wriggled with frustration but couldn’t free herself because of his heavier weight and bigger size.

Devlyn caught her eye and snarled. Angered that another male would force her down if he hadn’t had to fight Simon, she knew he would have taken care of the male that now dominated her. Devlyn whipped around and battled with the red, his teeth connecting with Simon’s right front leg.

Simon yelped and dodged backward.

The two tore into each other again, snarling and biting with wicked intent.

Bella squirmed to get free again and then growled low. More enraged than she’d ever been, if she could have freed herself, she would have torn to shreds the red who pinned her down.

To her horror, Devlyn tucked his tail, bowed his head, flattened his ears, and lay down on his belly. Her heart nearly quit when she saw his defeated posture. His neck and mouth bled, but he didn’t seem to have any serious injuries. If he didn’t fight and kill the red, a known murderer ...

A male, maybe in his late fifties, moved forward cautiously, baring his canines at Simon. The younger wolf turned to face the new threat.

Devlyn remained in his subservient position, watching the reds fight, avoiding looking at Bella.

It finally dawned on Bella. Devlyn couldn’t kill the last renegade red. He had to force one of the reds of the pack to do it. The one who did would become the new leader. They couldn’t have a gray best the last red and take over the pack.

Just like the gray devil wolf that had infiltrated Alfred’s red pack so long ago. The leadership had become stagnant and corrupt just as Alfred’s was. She’d never considered that Devlyn’s great-grandfather had forced change—not by taking over as he could have easily done, but by helping them rid themselves of the cancer in their pack—and then left. That another red wolf had taken over. But she bet his great-grandfather hadn’t had to fight four reds, one after another, either.

The older male charged and tackled Simon. The younger wolf seemed surprised the older one would challenge him. They bit each other, snarled, and snapped their mighty jaws. They dodged and charged and bloodied each other’s pelts. Then Simon made the fatal move. He turned the wrong way, exposing his throat at the inappropriate instant, leaving himself open to the kill.

The older wolf took him by surprise. Without hesitation, he ripped out Simon’s throat, and the younger wolf was instantly killed.

Then something drew their attention toward the woods, and everyone turned to look. Standing in the mist of the forest, a red male wolf considered Bella with unspoken longing, but his neck and leg were bleeding, his tongue hanging from his bloodied mouth, as though he’d tangled with a much bigger beast and lost. Had he come to fight for the leadership but been thwarted? And now was he too torn up to fight well?

He glanced at Devlyn and bared his bloodied teeth. The new leader bowed his head to the loner. The two stared at each for a moment and then the wolf turned and dove back into the forest, disappearing in a heartbeat.

“It’s him, Leidolf,” one of the older women said, already having turned back into her human form. “He’ll be back.” She smiled with admiration. “He has the look of leadership in his eyes, his stance. And he would’ve taken on the others if he hadn’t been injured and that delayed him. He’ll be back.”

There was no time for jubilation, or for the wolves to show their allegiance to their new pack leader. Sirens sounded from a distance, creating a panic. The wolf that pinned Bella down jumped off her. She snapped at him, missing biting his leg by inches.

Devlyn rushed to join her as the other wolves scattered, quickly changing into their human forms. Some dove into the vehicles and donned their clothes. Some grabbed the lifeless, bloodied bodies of the reds, once again turned into human form, and deposited them in the trunks of their vehicles.

Only the new red alpha male leader remained for a moment, staring at Devlyn, not challenging him, but instead giving him thanks.

Devlyn bowed his head and then raised it in acknowledgement.

The wolf dashed for one of the vehicles, but before Bella and Devlyn could return to the SUV that had brought them there, the driver tore off. She realized then they’d never have taken the gray and her back with them to the city. Only if the gray had died would they have taken her into the pack.

She touched her nose to Devlyn’s, and he licked her face. They pressed their muzzles against each other. They had only one option available to them, now—run like the wind and seek shelter in her cabin.

At short spurts, they could run as fast as twenty-eight miles per hour, but because of Devlyn’s fight, they ran at a trot. Her cabin was located only a couple of miles away. They’d make it. As long as zoo man Thompson didn’t find Rosa running with the injured gray male, or they didn’t cross paths with Volan. Involuntarily, a shiver ran through her.

With the cool breeze in her face and the two of them trotting nearly shoulder to shoulder, she suddenly realized that the gun she’d so carefully hidden in her clothes still rested under the seat in the black SUV. Her security blanket was ripped away from her. Now they had nothing but to fight Volan the way the wolf would. Even wounding Volan temporarily would have been to her advantage—until she could find another old-time smithy who could fashion silver bullets.

Then she recalled the gun in her cabin. Different smithy, and maybe real silver bullets. If they could just reach it in time.

Analyzing the rustle of the wind through the trees, birds’ sweet whistling tunes, and the sound of Devlyn’s and her pads tromping on the needled floor, she listened for Volan. Tilting her nose up, she breathed in the air, smelling a deer nearby, the scent of a raccoon, the fragrance of pine ... no Volan.

Devlyn acted as wary, his ears twitching back and forth, channeling in on the sounds, sniffing the air.

When the cabin came into view, she filled her lungs with air and wanted to shout for joy. Instead, she whimpered in her most happy wolf way. Devlyn rubbed her face with his, sharing her tentative liberation.

As soon as they reached the front steps, they changed into their human form. Standing on the porch, Devlyn pulled Bella into his arms and kissed her thoroughly.

The tension drained from her body. Devlyn had won. He’d shown his cleverness, superiority, and prowess as a born leader by allowing the older male to take down the final rogue wolf. She wondered if the mystery red wolf would give up his loner ways and take over the pack. But then she speculated again about whether she could convince Devlyn to start a new pack.