Lunewulf Law Read online

  She searched the pack, glancing past the couples running alongside her. If she made a show of searching the males, the couples would notice and close in around her. They all seemed to love making a show out of any single bitch who got too adventurous. And the last thing she needed or wanted was to be labeled as a bitch who would raise her tail for any male.

  Because that wasn’t how it was, no matter how she and Gertrude teased Elsa about being loose bitches. Already some of the mated bitches ran alongside Simone. Her cousin’s reputation was a mess, and for the life of her, Sophie had no clue how Simone managed to get out and fuck so much. The ripe smell of sexual pleasure often lingered on her.

  Clouds parted above and moonlight lit her world around them. Lunewulfs were gorgeous in their thick white coats. The moon made them glow, showing off what beautiful creatures they were. She gulped in the moist air, felt it soak through her fur and fill her lungs with the smells of the night. Lunewulfs around her barked, enjoying themselves, putting muscle into it while they raced up the incline and headed toward rockier ground.

  And that’s when she spotted him. Somehow Nik had managed to trail the end of the line of males, almost running alongside some of the older mated couples. His silver eyes pinned her, glowing in the night. He opened his mouth, showing off long, thick, pointed teeth. Muscles moved rhythmically under his thick white coat. Nik stood taller than many in his pack, and his chest was thick, his body slick and powerful looking.

  Sophie almost stumbled over her own paws while drooling over him. Gertrude slowed, glancing at her, and Sophie didn’t know if the heat pumping through her came from embarrassment or from the fire simmering deeper inside her. She snapped at her littermate, keeping pace with her, and managed a side glance at Nik.

  Damn. He was so fucking perfect. And he wondered if she would belly up for another werewolf. Silly male. Didn’t he know that there wasn’t another lunewulf in their pack who came close to how perfect he was?

  Something exploded ahead of her and Sophie’s heart about blew out of her chest. She skidded to a halt so fast that her claws dug into the earth and she tripped. Suddenly everyone around her seemed to be running in circles. Gertrude almost fell over her and Simone wasn’t too far behind. All of the smells around them changed too quickly for Sophie to figure out what the hell had just happened.

  Anger and panic filled the air. And then another explosion sounded.

  What the fuck?

  They had stopped running, but the barking and thick smells of emotions made it confusing to figure out what she’d just heard.

  Until she heard it again. And again.

  Gunfire.

  They were being shot at.

  Which meant one thing—humans.

  Lunewulfs were the fastest breed of werewolves on the planet. But none of them could outrun a bullet.

  Several more shots were fired and this time someone screamed. The high-pitched wail burned her ears, making it hard to think straight. All she heard were howls of confusion and outrage.

  Humans didn’t ever come onto their land.

  More shots were fired and this time one of the bitches nearby flew through the air, howling in pain while blood soaked her coat.

  Oh my God! No!

  Sophie howled in protest. Why would anyone attack them?

  They were nowhere near Prince George. She never heard any rumors of humans coming out this way. Several pack members tore away from her, racing toward the hills while others joined them.

  Shit. This wasn’t fair. Don’t chase after the damned humans and make it worse. But no one listened to her barked protests.

  Gertrude pushed against her so hard she almost fell over. And suddenly Elsa was there too, howling and barking while she jumped between her and Gertrude. The smell of blood clogged her senses. Through the confusion she spotted one of her pack mates—a bitch just a couple years older than she was—on her side, returning to her human form. Blood covered her naked body. She was dead.

  Why? What have we done to humans that they would do this? She knew the answer without anyone telling her. They hadn’t done a damned thing. Humans didn’t accept the fact that they existed, and werewolves had no problem keeping it that way. Some stupid-ass hunter, or more than likely a handful of them, were out shooting where they didn’t belong. Or at least she prayed that was the case.

  Not that knowing that helped matters. Members of her pack would die—her friends, bitches she’d run with since she was a cub. And for nothing! For no reason at all!

  There were horror stories of packs being burned out of their territory, killed and chased off by humans who didn’t understand what they were. But nothing like that happened around here.

  She almost jumped out of her skin when more shots went off. There were more screams. The smell of blood made her sick to her stomach.

  Sophie hit the ground hard when a male knocked her over. Before she could stand, Nik grabbed her by the neck, pulling her with his mouth. She stumbled to her paws, barely standing when he growled orders. He shoved his massive body against hers again, making his point clear.

  Fucking run. Get the hell out of here!

  Sophie didn’t need to be told twice. Using the speed she’d been born with, she tore at the ground, racing for the safety of their den. Paws pounded the earth around her. Her eyes teared and she looked around her through blurred vision at the lunewulfs racing alongside her.

  Gertrude and Elsa. Nik on the other side of her. She didn’t see anyone else. Her heart swelled painfully. Her muscles cramped. But she didn’t slow down. None of them did. Lives were lost tonight. What had started out as fun and exciting had turned into a nightmare, and all because of fucking humans.

  Chapter Two

  Nik stared at the smoke as it twirled into the sky. Dark gray clouds hung low and the smoke faded into them, making his entire world turn to shades of black and white. He moved away from the foul smell, leaving the dens to mourn their dead and wait to gather their ashes and spread them. He hadn’t attended many lunewulf funerals. He was damned grateful for that. And no one he knew well, or cared for, had been killed. Possibly that was selfish of him. His bitch hadn’t been killed.

  Sophie was still alive.

  “Thirty-six females.” Johann Rousseau had his arms crossed over his chest and glared at the burning bodies, looking disgusted. “I can’t believe those fucking humans took out thirty-six of our single bitches.”

  “And all they got were the bitches.” Lukas Kade smelled pissed.

  “I never agreed with the bitches running on the edge of the pack.” Nik headed toward his truck, ready to be done with this morbid scene. Let the dens mourn their dead. “I’m headed back to the pack. We’re done here.”

  Grandmother Rousseau had called him and some of the other males early that morning to help build the huge ceremonial bonfire where the dead pack members would be burnt. Werewolves didn’t bury their dead. The traditional lunewulf burning site had always given him the creeps, and this was the first time he’d seen it used for one of their kind who hadn’t died honorably, fighting until his last breath. It was like he could feel the energy from the flames as their dead burned and their ashes floated around him. His skin itched as depression smelled thick around him and he craved a hard run.

  “Every single one of those bitches was mating age.” Johann headed toward the Suburban.

  “Only single bitches of mating age are allowed to attend the communal pack runs.” Lukas rubbed his hand over his face, probably trying to hide the smell of his emotions by spreading sweat over his skin and adding its salty smell to the nauseating aromas surrounding them. “We fucking herded them up and made it easy for someone to kill them.”

  “Last night’s fiasco will make it harder for those of us who want a mate to find one.”

  Nik glanced at the lunewulf. He wouldn’t waste his breath growling for the lot of them to keep their paws off Sophie. Although he planned on going to Grandmother Rousseau and officially announcing his intentions
to see her, it might be wise if he put his mark on her as well. His little bitch was willing. He’d smelled her lust on her last night. And even though she tried smelling like she could take on any of them, her true scent reached him easily. Sophie didn’t want another lunewulf. It was time to see to it that the rest of the pack knew that too.

  “There’s a pack meeting tonight to discuss that,” Lukas told them.

  This was news to Nik. “What time?” He’d planned on heading over to Sophie’s den. Maybe accompanying her to the meeting would fit into his plans.

  “Midnight.” Lukas glanced at Johann. “Any word on what it’s about?”

  Johann shrugged. “I haven’t talked to Grandmother today other than to get sent out here.”

  “What did you hear?” Nik asked.

  “My sire talked to some of the other lunewulfs who met with Grandmother Rousseau. Something about figuring out what to do with the sudden increased shortage of females who were of age to mate.”

  “Shit. It’s that serious?” Nik shook his head. Not his problem. His little bitch waited for him at her den, and he couldn’t wait to inhale her sweet scent.

  “Thirty-six bitches between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five are now dead. That could have one hell of an impact on males finding mates.” Johann kicked the ground with his boot and scowled. He was one of the males of age, ready to find a mate.

  “Guess I’ll see you all tonight then.” Nik climbed into his truck just as his cell phone rang. Curling his lip when he saw who called, he answered reluctantly. “Yes,” he mumbled, not in the mood for pack gossip.

  “Nik. It’s Frederick. Have you heard?” Frederick Gambo was a bitch in male fur.

  “Heard what?” He started his truck, throwing it into gear and heading back toward the road.

  “I just finished sending gifts to the mourning dens from Grandmother Rousseau. A lot of them are pissed because with such a huge loss of females, we could lose some males to other packs.”

  Nik wouldn’t be surprised. Even before last night’s tragedy, there hadn’t been that many single bitches. Every den seemed to have birthed males when he’d been whelped into this world.

  “The pack will remain strong. Don’t worry. I’ll talk to you later, Frederick.” None of this really mattered to him.

  “Grandmother Rousseau would frown on any male who bred with a bitch who wasn’t lunewulf. And there aren’t any other lunewulf packs in British Columbia, unless you count the Cariboo lunewulf.” Frederick chuckled as if he’d just told a good joke. “And we all know how barbaric they are.”

  “Can’t say that I’ve ever given them much of a thought.” Nik didn’t have to smell Frederick to get a strong whiff of a nark. He had no intentions of offering any information that Frederick could run and tell Grandmother Rousseau.

  “She won’t have our line washed out with mixed breeds. You wouldn’t want that either, would you Nik?”

  “What I think is really none of your fucking business,” he growled into the phone, getting a damned good visual of the piss-ass excuse for a male cowering on the other end of the line. “Talk to you later.”

  He didn’t bother saying goodbye before closing his phone and tossing it to the seat next to him. It would be smart to get a shower before going to see Sophie. He smelled like death, and after talking to Frederick, the mixture of foul emotions running through him didn’t help matters.

  The small house he parked in front of had belonged to his den since he was a cub. It had been years since their pack had endured violence like what they’d witnessed last night. That didn’t mean that challenges and fights never occurred within the pack. He’d lost both of his parents at a young age. His sire died when his neck was snapped in two during a bar fight. His mother was killed a few years later when she challenged another bitch for her mate and lost. He wouldn’t go so far as to say they were unduly violent creatures. Their ways were how it had been for centuries. And the strongest prevailed.

  He parked his truck, getting out and walking up the drive. His littermate’s car was in the driveway, still warm with the smells of antifreeze and power-steering fluid. Usually his older brother worked nights and slept days. But he’d been somewhere recently, which meant he was probably awake. Nik pushed open the front door and spotted John Alexander sprawled out on the couch, the remote aimed at the television.

  “Where have you been?” John growled, turning his head and sniffing the air. “God. You fucking smell like shit.”

  “Try death.” Nik kicked off his boots and headed toward the kitchen then pulled open the refrigerator. His littermate’s foul mood made their den smell as bad as he did. He grabbed a beer, not really in the mood for one this early in the day, but needing something to wash the stench down his throat. “Why are you awake?”

  “The entire fucking pack is going insane.” John aimed the remote at the TV and began flipping channels too quickly to tell what was on any of them. “I get called first thing this morning by some of the males down at the shop. Apparently they’re lining up challenges for some of the available bitches. Everyone is suddenly in a panic that they won’t get their dick wet ever again now that we’ve lost so many females.”

  “Fuck.” Nik sat down in the overstuffed chair across from the couch and stared at his damp socks. “What challenges are scheduled? Who’s fighting?”

  “A couple lunewulfs, but it’s not happening.” John relaxed his hand, letting the remote dangle toward the floor, and stared over at Nik. His littermate was an ugly bastard, but he had a good heart—usually. “I told you it was insane. They go to set up this challenge over some bitch and then her den denounces it—doesn’t want a thing to do with either male. The den gets Grandmother Rousseau to back them on it. So the males got their claws out for no reason and go at each other anyway. They call me down to the shop to help knock sense into the assholes.”

  “Seems to me they should have just let them fight it out. Who were they?” Nik scratched his head, feeling the need for that shower grow stronger the longer he sat there.

  “Jordan Rousseau and Armand Gaston. Gaston beat the crap out of Rousseau.” His brother grinned broadly, showing off his crooked teeth. “I didn’t have the heart to break it up.”

  Nik laughed at the mental picture. “Gaston is twice the size of Rousseau. Wouldn’t hurt the pack any right now to lose some of the wasted flesh we have. The fewer males around, the easier it will be on the rest of us.”

  “Like you have anything to worry about.” John resumed his pose and aimed at the TV, flipping to an old western. “I saw you just about mount that little Rousseau bitch last night. She’s fucking hot as hell. She put out for you yet?”

  “Not yet. But she will.” Which reminded him he needed that shower. He guzzled down a fair bit of his beer and then stood and stretched. “I’m headed over to her den here in a few. Want to come along?”

  “She’s got some hot littermates.” John wagged his eyebrows and then grabbed his crotch, making a show of humping his hand. “Think I could get a piece of tail out of one of them?”

  “You never know.” Nik shook his head in disgust, pretty damned sure that his older littermate would die a virgin as long as he acted like that.

  A car pulled up outside and the two of them stopped talking, turning their attention to the door while Nik sniffed the air. He opened the door to their den as Matthew Jordeaux strolled up the walk, running his fingers through his thick blond hair and grinning that sickening, charming smile he always had on his face.

  Nik scowled at him. “I knew my littermate was sick in the head, but I didn’t know it was bad enough to call out the pack doctor.”

  Matthew had inherited the title of doctor after his sire retired. Lunewulfs didn’t take their kind to hospitals. And a pack their size, although their numbers were dwindling, had to have someone on hand with training in case of emergencies. Although most werewolves, no matter their breed, healed quickly unless the wound proved life threatening.

  “I hear yo
ur whole damned den is beyond help.” Matthew held out his hand, shaking Nik’s briskly. “Not a thing I can do to help either of you.” His scent turned serious. “But I’m not here as pack doctor.”

  Nik stepped out of the doorway, allowing the male to enter. Matthew was a tall lunewulf, not overly muscular but thick in build. His scent had never set right with Nik. There was something about the male that always seemed to border on sinister. Matthew had never done anything to cause Nik to bare his teeth. But for some reason, Nik had never been comfortable turning his tail on the lunewulf.

  “What can we do for you?” Nik shut the door and then returned to his seat.

  The male could stand and address his den. Nik wasn’t in the mood to be overly sociable.

  “I thought I’d come over and talk to you. I know you have an interest in that Rousseau bitch.”

  Nik stiffened. “What if I do?”

  “Well last night’s run stirred up quite a bit of energy,” Matthew began, and scratched his hair until several strands fell the wrong way over his head. “And now we have a handful of males who seem to be in a panic over claiming bitches before there aren’t any to claim. Obviously the good ones will go quickly.”

  “Yeah?” John sat up on the couch, putting the remote on the coffee table. “Sounds like the whole fucking pack suddenly has a hard-on.”

  “You’re a good lunewulf, Nik.” Matthew ignored John’s comment. “Otherwise I wouldn’t come to your den first. I’ll give you tonight to speak up for Sophie. If you don’t, I plan to approach Grandmother Rousseau and ask to mate with her.”

  Nik leapt out of his chair and pounced on the pack doctor, wrapping his fingers around the asshole’s neck until the lunewulf’s eyes almost popped out of his head. He ignored John when he jumped off the couch.

  “You lay one claw on that bitch and there won’t be a pack doctor in all of Canada who will be able to help you,” he growled, getting little satisfaction when he threw Matthew at the closed door. “Get the fuck out of my den.”

  “You think any other male in this pack would do you the courtesy of offering you right of first refusal?” Matthew rubbed his neck, his speech slightly garbled from his teeth, which were suddenly longer. “You should thank me for honoring you like this. That little bitch is the pick of the pack, right along with her littermates. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if the line is already forming at their door.”