Dire Desires_A Novel of the Eternal Wolf Clan Read online

  “It’s dangerous, Gillian,” Rifter said. “You don’t understand yet—”

  “I’m staying with Jinx.” Her words were firm and for a long moment, the king pondered in silence. Finally, he nodded his consent.

  He hadn’t asked Jinx to come back and stay at the mansion, which was a relief.

  “Fine. But Jinx, you need to report in and make preparations. Come use the yard, the woods at night. Much safer,” Rifter said.

  Jinx nodded and Gillian smiled at him. “Will you get in the truck with Jez? I’ll be right there.”

  Jez motioned to her and she nodded, slipped her hand from his. He immediately missed the contact.

  “Thank you for bringing her to Gwen, instead of asking Gwen to come to you,” Rifter said. “We both know she would’ve done it.”

  Jinx nodded, didn’t know what else to say.

  “You know Rogue is awake.”

  “I saw him when I left the mansion, yes.”

  Rifter opened his mouth as if to say something else, but stopped. Jinx broke in with, “Liam’s going to fight any time now.”

  “Yes.”

  And you should be with him and your twins was the unspoken phrase. More guilt.

  “I’ll make sure her shift is smooth. I’ll try to have her at the mansion when it happens,” Jinx told his king, because he owed the man, his brother in arms, that, if not more. Rifter nodded and dismissed him. Jinx ran his hand along the deep scars on the side of his neck that Rifter had given him recently and knew that nothing between them would ever be the same.

  Chapter 8

  It was close to three in the morning, Vice’s favorite time of night and it was rapidly becoming Liam’s as well. That afternoon, Liam had captured a young Were who’d been working with the outlaw wolves. In doing so, he gained valuable intel on his biggest enemies, Tals and Walker, the wolves in charge of the outlaw werepack currently trying to oust Liam as rightful king. Now, with only the sliver of a moon for company, Liam was tense—Cyd, not much better.

  Cain, his omega, was remarkably calm, which Liam took to mean they were on the right path, hopefully both literally and figuratively. Their truck cut through the night quietly, purposefully as Cain drove them and Cyd remained in the backseat, armed and dangerous.

  The twins had permission from Jinx to fight. Cyd had proven his control a couple of months earlier when he took down a rogue Were who threatened Jinx and the entire werepack with his actions, and again during Seb’s most recent attempt to take over the town. But tonight’s fight would be different, enough to push a Were who’d suffered from moon craze over the edge.

  Cain was worried about his twin, Liam knew, and Liam wasn’t sure if he was as worried about himself. But they’d made their decision about tonight—none of them were immortal and all three had to be prepared to suffer life-threatening injuries during a kill like this.

  Was anyone really prepared? Liam wondered now. His father hadn’t been—Liam could still hear the man’s screams echoing in his ears, his death anything but peaceful.

  “What are you doing with Max?” Cain asked him as they neared their destination, ripping him from his heartbreaking reverie and throwing him into another one of almost equal pain.

  “I can’t answer that now. How the hell can you ask me that at a time like this?” Liam ran his hands through his hair and he heard Cyd’s muffled curse from the backseat. No doubt that alpha was as pissed as he was for Cain’s question, but the omega was undeterred, and undaunted.

  “You have to. You need to be decisive in every damned thing you do,” Cain said, his voice strong and sure.

  The pain of having Max, his mate—his human mate—cheat on him with an outlaw wolf was something that could rip Liam’s heart out if he thought about it too much, which was why he’d been avoiding anything to do with the subject of her unborn son.

  “You let that pup out of your sight, he’s going to come back and kill you,” Cain told him.

  “You’re a soothsayer now?” Liam demanded.

  “You know I’m telling the truth, right?”

  Liam thought about Max and the last time he’d seen her, holding her swollen belly and staring out the window. “He could kill me either way when he finds out what I did to his father and mother.”

  “I guess you’ve made the decision on what you’re doing with the human. But the baby, keep him close.” Cain spoke quietly but every word was a boom to Liam’s ears.

  “And what? Lock it up?” Liam asked.

  “You could raise it as yours,” Cain agreed.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nature, nurture.” Cain paused. “You don’t know what kind of half wolf you’ll be turning away. Sometimes, it pays to keep your enemies close.”

  “The Dires took us in when our own Weres didn’t want us,” Cyd said. “I don’t think they made the wrong choice.”

  “The Dires can’t die,” Liam pointed out and the twins left him in silence for the rest of the trip, with Cain’s favorite Floyd, The Dark Side of the Moon, playing.

  Liam let him have that. Stared out the window at the dark road ahead and thought about his night to come—and the long stretch of road that lay after it.

  He was charged with getting all the Weres to follow him, without question. He wouldn’t tell the majority of the Weres about what their mission was until their loyalty was completely secured.

  Even then, it was a risk.

  Half the Manhattan pack was behind him. Another quarter was undecided and the rest were decidedly rebelling with Tals and Walker leading them after Liam had killed Teague, who’d been the real leader of the outlaws.

  Which was why those wolves needed to die.

  “I’m ready,” Liam said, not bothering to ask Cyd or Cain if they were. They had to be, if for no other reason than the man they’d decided to call their king was, and the two fell into step next to him.

  Flanked by Cyd and Cain, he prepared for his first official act as king. His first unofficial one had been killing Teague weeks ago, after which he’d announced his intentions to take over for his father—and to kill every single outlaw unless they renounced their new leaders and came back under his pack’s protection.

  Liam had already made a statement to the outlaw werepack by killing Teague in front of Max. And while he hadn’t made up his mind about her child, if he didn’t kill Max—as was his right since she was his mate and she’d betrayed him—he would lose a great deal of the ground he’d gained establishing himself as the successor to the crown as king of the alphas.

  Too young . . . not strong enough . . . not ready. Liam saw red when he heard those words. And he was willing to go balls to the wall to prove himself.

  He and Cain and Cyd planned their ambush with only a few hours notice, staked out Tals and Walker, who met only once a week under heavy guard since Teague was killed.

  The first group of wolves they encountered was twenty feet from the small house, the guards for the outlaw pack. Boys he’d grown up with. His throat tightened at their betrayal but he forced himself to remain calm. He would give them a single chance at life. They deserved only that, or maybe not even, but he would toughen with each kill, Vice promised him.

  Come to think of it, Vice hadn’t looked happy about that.

  Now, Liam stood in front of the small pack of young wolves who he knew wouldn’t back down easily. It was necessary to pull them back from outlaw-ville, or take them out completely.

  “Where’s your Dire backup?” one Were sneered at him. Able, a wolf three years younger and several inches shorter, with a big mouth and an even bigger attitude.

  Liam told him, “I’ve got my own pack. I’m the new king. Abide by my law or die by my hands.”

  The smallest one paled, but the others couldn’t let down their show of bravado. Liam watched the five Weres come toward him as the smallest
lagged behind, knew this would be a violent, frightening show for all, especially if he let himself go the way Vice had taught him.

  “I guess your decision’s made,” Liam said, and then he struck, faster than he’d ever thought possible, with a decisive energy that seemed to stun the Weres. Two went down with broken necks before Cyd jumped in, and then Liam took out Able as Cyd and Cain each made their own kills.

  “Your name,” Liam demanded of the small Were.

  “Pat,” he answered.

  “Don’t move—you’re my witness. Move and die, understand?” Liam asked and Pat nodded as Cyd and Cain moved past him to infiltrate the house and get rid of the guards.

  As king, Liam needed to allow his pack to keep him safe, to do some of the dirtier work. And so he hung back, knowing Cyd and Cain wanted to prove themselves to him as much as to themselves, watched his Weres infiltrate and kill the guards.

  Seconds later, Cyd and Cain were dragging a surprised Tals and Walker out, the young twins’ strength and fighting skills far surpassing what it should be at their age, thanks to their training from the Dires.

  While Tals and Walker looked cocky when the twins let them go in front of Liam, he knew they didn’t have the fire, the need to prove themselves. There was so much pent-up anger inside Liam, he could take them on one by one and it wouldn’t be enough.

  He’d planned a brutal assault. There wasn’t a chance of a fair fight. This was a message—and if it turned into a bloodbath, so be it. “You’ll die tonight—and it will be a lesson to other Weres to not disobey their king.”

  Tals snorted. “We don’t recognize you as our king, little boy.”

  “You were just dragged out here like a sack of beans, so I’d watch who you’re calling little.” Liam cocked his head and stared down the two men, knew his eyes had turned lupine.

  Knew there was no turning back as a newfound strength roared through his body like a freight train—heavy, well greased and unstoppable forward motion. The rage was a focused one, a steadily mounting sense of what he needed to do to avenge his father’s death and take back his role.

  He would take Tals, because Tals killed his father. “Walker’s yours, Cyd,” he told the alpha Were, and Cyd didn’t hesitate.

  Cain stood guard and kept an eye on Pat as Liam circled Tals.

  “Just because you took down Teague doesn’t mean I’m as weak.”

  “Prove it,” Liam urged, and when Tals lunged, Liam faked left and took him down with a hard elbow to the back. Then he threw his body on the prone wolf and all hell broke loose.

  Tals fought. He was excellent—Liam had sparred with him before. But this time, Liam took no prisoners. As his hands tightened to fists, he grabbed Tals and began slamming his face until his human form was a bloody, bleeding pulp with no doubt every bone broken and then he hit him some more.

  We tortured your father until he begged to die.

  Liam knew—he’d heard all of it, allowed himself to crawl away only when his father’s screams stopped.

  Jinx assured him that Linus had passed, crossed over successfully. At least he knew his father was in that place of peace he deserved.

  Tals was headed where he deserved, too. Liam was sure of it. He’d taken Liam’s family, no doubt encouraged and laughed when Teague had taken his mate.

  Liam had the wolf by the neck and squeezed until Tals bucked frantically under him. “You didn’t give my father the chance to fight. I’m returning the favor.”

  “Liam . . . we were friends,” Tals managed through his mangled mouth.

  Technically, that was true—Liam had been closest with the man currently bleeding underneath him. “We were never friends,” he spat back as his canines elongated and he ripped the man’s throat out, felt the life slip away from Tals even as the alpha leader inside of him stood up and finally reared his head.

  You were meant for this, his father’s voice echoed in his head. He’d heard it a million times growing up, but it was hard to believe it when you really didn’t feel it.

  There was no mistaking it now. Taking this action had not only been right, but just.

  He didn’t stop there, ripped the wolf limb from limb. Before he tore Tals’s head off, he turned to see Cain holding the mounting spike at the ready, an old Were tradition.

  In his haze, Liam could see the light Cain was bathed in, a thin shadow that glowed like a protective skin.

  Tradition said only the true pack alpha could see the omega’s glow. Cyd and the Dires swore it was there and Liam had been ashamed to admit he couldn’t see it.

  But now that he could, he was even more determined that he was doing the right thing. Blood and sweat mixed with tears of rage and revenge, ran in rivulets down his face and neck. He tasted the metallic tang and his wolf wanted out.

  Vice told him that Weres had no control, not like the Dires, but that Liam could learn some measures of control. He didn’t want the out-of-control wolf to take him over. No, he wanted to be in control, to take the wheel, to be present for every brutal punch he threw.

  He wanted to never forget.

  Liam twisted Tals’s head with a roar, ripped it from the man’s body. As the blood covered him, his eyes turned, his chest coated and he and Cyd both looked like primitive gladiators. There was enough gore on the field for a horror movie.

  Now, Cain held two spikes steady and Liam and Cyd mounted their enemies’ heads, prepared to wrap and drag the pieces of the bodies behind them on tarps to the meeting with the outlaws that Liam had called before this fight.

  “This is what we’ll do to any and all who betray our kind,” Liam growled at Pat now. “Pass it along. It’s the only reason I’m letting you live.”

  The Were who’d witnessed the brutal battle scampered off and Liam had no doubt the tales he’d tell. Liam’s legend was just beginning. The bodies in the middle of the outlaws’ clubhouse to be discovered soon would tell the rest of the story.

  He fully expected there would be noncompliant wolves—he would do this, killing one by one until he reigned with an iron fist. This wasn’t the time for forgiveness—it was a time for war.

  Liam and his new pack would win it, battle by battle, not caring if he was soaked in the blood of his enemies. This was a message to any other Were who was thinking of rebelling, and it was also a risk, but one Liam needed to take.

  “Fine job, king,” Cain told him. “Fine damned job.”

  • • •

  The packs would talk about this forever. Vice knew that as surely as he did his vices.

  His canines elongated with the violence, the smell of shed blood. The scene in front of him had been so fucking brutal that he was both hard as hell and sick to his stomach, his emotions swinging on a violent pendulum of their own.

  It had taken every ounce of self-control he had, which wasn’t much, to not join in the fray. Brother Wolf was mainly responsible for holding him back this time, because his wolf trained with Liam’s.

  There are some things a pup has to do alone, Brother Wolf said, and besides, Liam wasn’t alone. He had an alpha and his omega and he had to come into his own at some point.

  Doesn’t mean you’re not needed—now, more than ever, Brother Wolf said and Vice sighed as his wolf saw right through him. As much as Vice had fought the pairing at first, spending time with the wolf pup who would be king was good for him. Spending any amount of time with someone balanced was always a plus, and although those effects were only in the short term, Vice still liked how it felt.

  But his emotional pendulum swung the other way more quickly than he thought and sorrow washed over him as he watched his charge—and Jinx’s—covered with blood, eyes still lupine and fierce, howling with all the frenzied power and lust that came with victory.

  Cyd looked . . . stronger. The kill he’d made had brought out more of his inner alpha. Vice wondered how long he’d sta
y with Liam’s pack before breaking off into his own. The omega was gaining power too, and it should’ve been the signal of good things to come.

  But Vice was so fucking sad. The loss of a certain kind of innocence that these young Weres would never get back.

  Vice never had it, but to watch the young ones doing what the Dires had trained them for made him so proud and sick at the same time.

  “Hey.” Liam stood in front of him now, uncertain for only a moment before Vice grabbed the back of the young wolf’s neck and pulled him in for a backslapping embrace, a warrior’s congratulations. A charge’s comfort, as Liam buried his head against Vice’s shoulder for a little longer than he should have, as if trying to gain back what he’d just lost.

  There was no going back now. There couldn’t be. And humans would be the better for it.

  Vice pulled Liam’s head back up, looked the young king in the eye and made sure he knew it too.

  Chapter 9

  Instead of going straight to the penthouse, Jez pulled into the parking lot of Mo’s Diner.

  “I thought we decided home was the best option,” Jinx said, wondered when and how he’d begun to think of the place as home in such a short period of time.

  “She’s got to eat, right?” Jez asked and Gillian’s stomach rumbled. She blushed and laughed a little and Jinx felt himself grow lighter every time he heard the sound.

  Fucking pansy ass. “You know who owns this, right?”

  Jez smiled. “Of course.”

  Jinx kept Gillian close when they went inside. Most Weres wouldn’t be able to sense what she was—they just didn’t have that kind of nose when a Dire was preshift, and Dires were good at that kind of camouflage for good reason. But still, that didn’t always stop stupid things from coming out of wolves’ mouths.

  “Grab a seat in the back,” the owner called. He was a big Were, head of this family-run business. The Were family considered themselves their own pack, owing loyalty to no one. And yet, Jinx heard they pledged theirs to Liam, if push came to shove.