Betraying the Pack (13 page)

“Jeez, man, what are you, part
leprechaun?” said Wyatt with clear disdain.

Grabbing his crotch, Jaxon
leered. “What’s wrong? Jealous of my lucky charms?”

Bailey giggled, a laughter cut
short as she noticed the bulge in the tight briefs growing. Startled, her eyes
rose to meet Jaxon’s, who of course smiled.

“Enough,” Gavin barked. “Can we
get on with this?”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Jaxon’s
tone emerged mockingly. However, the look in his eyes appeared anything but as
he skimmed his briefs down. Bailey didn’t let her gaze stray from his, despite
her curiosity at what he’d uncovered. Then it was all she could do not to
scream as he
changed.

The usual jovial expression on
his face turned into a grimace of pain as his body contorted, his shape and
skin rippling and reforming into something squatter and thicker. Thick black
hair sprouted along every inch of his skin. The whole process took only
moments, and when done, a black wolf with intense green eyes stared at her.

Bailey released the breath she
held. “That looks like it hurt.”

“It does,” replied Gavin
starkly. “But you get used to it.”

For some reason that made her
sad. She didn’t think she could handle what seemed like excruciating pain on a
regular basis. “He looks like the wolf from the woods. The one who saved me.”

A bob of the wolf’s head
acknowledged her statement. Then he lolled his tongue at her and yipped.

“What did he say?” she asked,
craning to look at Gavin.

“Something to the effect of you
can thank him by rubbing his belly.”

Putting actions to words,
Jaxon, threw himself on his back with his four legs in the air.

Laughter bubbled from her. “Oh
my God, he’s like a giant puppy.”

“Hence his nickname,” Parker
rumbled.

“Can I touch him?” Before she’d
even finished asking, a wet nose nudged her palm. She gasped, but didn’t
withdraw, instead letting her fingers stroke over the soft fur of his pelt. “You’re
beautiful.”

“And I’m jealous,” Gavin said
wryly. “If I’d known you’d take it so well, I’d have changed first and let you
pet me.”

“You’ll get your turn,” she
sassed, throwing him a wink. “And more . . .”

Sensing the attention had
drifted from him, Jaxon sat on his haunches and let out a short howl.

“Not in camp, you idiot. Get
your ass out into the woods if you’re going to make noise.” Permission granted,
Jaxon bounded off into the trees.

“I want you to go with him,”
Gavin told Parker.

“No problem. I’ve been itching
to go for a run.”

Parker seemed more self-conscious
than Jaxon at stripping in front of her, his fingers fumbling with the closures
for his clothing. Once she saw him nude, she couldn’t understand why. The man
surely descended from the titans. Broad-chested, with a smattering of hair on
his upper body, the man was a Goliath all over—or so she assumed. She didn’t
quite have the nerve to peek below.

His metamorphosis to beast
seemed less painful than Jaxon’s transition, and damn, did he appear huge. He
sported a brown pelt and the same calm eyes she’d grown to know. This time, she
went to the wolf and let her fingers stroke the silky fur between his ears. He
seemed to like that, because he leaned his big head against her and nearly
toppled her over. With a chuckle, she kept her balance.

“I think you’re even bigger
than those wolves in
Twilight
,” she
complimented, although judging by his chuff and the head-shaking disbelief on
Wyatt’s face, that wasn’t perhaps the right thing to say.

“Off with you now, before Jaxon
gets in trouble,” Gavin ordered.

Parker bounded off into the
forest, leaving her alone with Gavin and Wyatt.

“So now what?” she asked
perhaps a tad too brightly, much too aware of both men and the fact she now
found herself alone with them. Gavin’s slow smile left nothing to the
imagination. He caught her up in his arms and kissed her, making his intentions
even clearer.

“Shall we?” he asked, inclining
his head toward the tent.

“But what about Wyatt?” she
whispered.

“He’s more than welcome to join
us if you’d like.”

The shocking suggestion made
her flush with heat, and not just in the cheeks. She darted a glance over to
see Wyatt staring at her, his head tilted in question.

“I—I—” A part of her wanted to
say yes, but she couldn’t do it. Not yet. Titillating as it sounded, a part of
her still balked at the idea of being intimate with two men at once.

As if reading her chagrin,
Wyatt sent her a slow smile. “When you’re ready, sunshine, I’ll be here. I can
wait as long as you need.”

Feeling bad, she tucked her
face into the curve of Gavin’s neck and felt him move away. Ducking into the
tent, he’d no sooner tossed her on the air mattress than his body covered hers,
his mouth hot and hard against her own.

Arousal immediately flooded her,
and she clung to him tightly as she returned his embrace.

The kiss ended up short-lived,
as barking suddenly erupted outside the tent.

“Gavin!” Wyatt yelled. “Parker’s
holding off some rogues.”

“Shit!” Rolling off her, Gavin
exited the tent, Bailey only seconds behind. She found Jaxon, wearing his man
shape, in the clearing, bleeding from a deep gash in his shoulder while Wyatt
and Gavin both stripped.

“They caught me unawares,”
Jaxon explained, holding a hand to his wound. “I was fighting them off when
Parker arrived. He told me to get you.”

“You did the right thing,”
Gavin said, removing his underwear and standing in the nude.

“What are you doing?” she asked
in a quavering voice as it suddenly came to her that he was leaving.

“What the council’s assigned us
to do. Eliminate rogues.”

“Eliminate . . .” Her eyes
widened in horror. “You mean kill them?”

“I don’t have time to go into
the whys or specifics right now,” Gavin replied. “I’ll explain it later. For
now, go in the tent and into my knapsack. There’s a revolver loaded with silver
in there. Take it. If anything furry comes out of those woods, shoot it.”

“But—”

He planted a hard kiss on her
lips. “Please, darling. Just do as I say. I’m leaving Jaxon here to protect you,
but we won’t be far, so scream if you need us.”

Any more words of protest she
might have spewed died in her throat as Gavin stepped away and shifted, more
quickly than his friends, into a beautiful golden wolf. A black wolf with a
familiar cynical gaze came to stand beside him, and they bounded off into the
encroaching gloom. Disbelief and fear rooted her to the spot.

“Don’t just stand there,” Jaxon
croaked. “Get the gun.”

“Where’s the first aid kit?”
she asked instead of obeying.

“In the knapsack. Now move.”

She dove into the tent and
found Gavin’s bag. Dragging it out, she plopped it beside Jaxon before
rummaging in it. The fast approaching darkness, though, impeded her search.
With a sigh of annoyance, she upended the bag and found the pistol, but nothing
resembling a first aid kit.

“I can’t find it,” she wailed
in frustration.

“Because we don’t have one in
camp,” he admitted.

Gritting her teeth, she tried
not to lose her temper. “Then why did you say there was?”

Instead of an answer, he handed
her the gun by the butt, and her eyes widened. “That was a naughty trick,
Jaxon. You need medical care more than I need to shoot myself in the foot.”

“I’ll be fine. A little bit of
moonlight, and maybe a kiss, will make it better.”

She stuck her tongue out at him
and laid the gun on the ground as she bent to find a clean T-shirt that she
could at least use to wipe his wound, anything to distract her from what might
be going on in the woods.

The moon came out, easing her
task as its luminous glow lit up the clearing and bathed her in its cool
radiance. An itch made her twitch her nose, then scrunch her face up, as the
skin of her visage erupted in the most unpleasant sensation, as if bugs crawled
across her skin. With a soft cry, she dropped her makeshift cloth and rubbed at
her face.

“Bailey?”

A cry left her lips, and she
fell to her knees as pain rippled through her, a burning agony that ignited all
of her nerve endings at once. She screamed, unable to help herself, and then
thrashed as constricting hands tried to hold her. Another scream escaped her,
then another.

“Noooo!” An alien presence
pushed forth in her mind, striving to take over, and for a moment, vivid red
eyes flashed before her. And then she felt her whole world twist. Her panting
cries of pain transitioned into a . . . howl.

Oh my God. Oh my God.
The
mantra kept repeating itself in almost incoherent gibberish in her mind.
Something touched her still-throbbing sides, and without thinking, she turned
her head and snapped. She caught something fleshy in her teeth, and she bit
down hard, a warm spurt of fluid coating her tongue. Enjoying the taste, she
chomped down harder, but something pried her jaw open, and the meat pulled
free. Enraged at having her meal taken away, she attacked, her claws striking
the animal before her, gouging its thin skin. The scent of blood, a smell she
finally recognized, filled her senses and made her slaver in hunger.

A harsh noise beat at her ears,
though, the sound familiar, and . . .

Regaining control of her mind,
Bailey recoiled in horror from Jaxon, the severely injured Jaxon, who yelled at
her to stop.

What have I done?
Or
the even better question, what had she become?

Releasing a scream that emerged
as a mournful howl, she turned and ran into the woods, ignoring Jaxon’s cries for
her to return.

She could never go back.
I am a monster.

Coasting through the woods,
following the trail Jaxon left in drops of blood, Wyatt let his fury against rogues
build.
Why won’t they leave her alone?
Why are they still brazenly chasing her?
It baffled him. Rogues weren’t
known to go after complicated targets. So what was it about Bailey that made
them keep coming? What did Roderick want from her?

The time to ponder those
questions would have to wait, as he came across the snarls of animals sparring.

Springing into the fray, he
took in the scene, from Parker grappling viciously with a mottled-coated foe,
to the others circling, preparing to launch their own cowardly attack.
Assessing the imminent danger to his friend, Wyatt landed on the back of a wolf
who thought to attack Parker from behind, while Gavin, with a snarl to frighten
all but the most foolhardy, dove at the rest to keep them at bay.

A bestial part of himself
rejoiced in the yelp of pain of his enemy as his teeth sank into flesh. Bloodlust
and the exhilaration of battle suffused him, and he gleefully tore into the
attacking wolves, whose paltry number of eight were no match for the three of
them. The one he’d attacked went still as he snapped its neck finally with his
powerful jaw, and he went on to the next. As the fifth and sixth miscreants fell
to the ground, leaking their life’s blood into the earth, the last two took off
running, probably sensing their imminent defeat.
Run, you little bastards, all you want. You’ll never escape us.

Parker and Gavin took off after
them, but Wyatt took an extra moment to check the still bodies to make sure
none played possum. His father taught him at a young age to always make sure he
never left any of the enemy alive lest they sneak up when least expected. Their
glazed-eyed death real and not faked, Wyatt made to follow his pack brothers
when a shrill scream rang through the forests, followed by another.

Wyatt stumbled.
Bailey!
Torn in his duty to his group
alpha and the escaping rogues, and Bailey, it took him only a moment to decide
before tearing back through the woods toward camp, a howl rolling out of his
throat, announcing his intention. Gavin and Parker didn’t answer or follow, the
renewed sounds of battle rising behind him. Seesawing in his mind, a part of him
wondered if he should return to give them aid, but he already knew what Gavin
would tell him.
Protect Bailey.
It’s
what any mate would order.
And what I
need to do.

The shrieking, a chilling sound
filled with agony, continued, only to abruptly cut off, replaced by a mournful
howl that raised his hackles.
What the
fuck? Did some rogues circle around us to attack the camp?

Bursting through the
underbrush, Wyatt charged into clearing with the tents and skidded to a halt. Switching
forms quicker than he ever recalled doing before, he scanned the immediate area,
and he inhaled deep, scenting blood. The owner of the fluid appeared to be
Jaxon, sprawled and bleeding from numerous wounds.

“What happened? Where’s
Bailey?” Wyatt barked. He recognized the signs of a wolf attack, the long
scratches on Jaxon’s torso, along with dentition marks on his arm. The pup
would heal, but only if Wyatt let him live after he found Bailey unharmed.
“Which way did they go?”

“No one else,” mumbled Jaxon as
he pulled himself upright, his face grimacing in pain. “She changed.”

“What do you mean changed?”
Wyatt sniffed the air and caught a wolf scent, a she-wolf one that seemed
vaguely familiar.

“Bailey’s a fucking wolf. As
soon as the moonlight hit her, she started screaming, and then . . .”

She morphed. And judging by the tenor of her screams, not only was it
excruciating, but she was probably terrified because she didn’t understand what
was happening.
Horror made
Wyatt speechless. It was one thing to grow up knowing and expecting the
transition, another to go through it without knowledge or preparation.

He needed to find her, help her
through this unexpected event. “Where is she now?”

“How the fuck should I know? Or
did you not notice my injuries?” Jaxon snarled. “I tried to hold her back, talk
to her, you know? But she attacked me, and I was so shocked, I didn’t fight
back. I didn’t want to hurt her.” Frustration colored his words

“She didn’t mean to injure you.
She was scared.”

“Well duh, man. I know that, but
she got me good enough that I couldn’t follow. And besides, I thought someone
needed to know what happened. What I don’t understand is how it happened. I
thought she wasn’t wolf.”

“She wasn’t. She must have been
a dormant.” A sleeping wolf triggered by her proximity to her mates? He’d never
heard of it happening before, but then again, he’d never heard of a wolf being
born to humans.

“A dormant raised among
humans?” Jaxon raised the very question he’d just asked himself.

“I don’t have time to figure
this out. I need to go after her.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Wyatt shot him a wry look. “Injured
as you are? I don’t think so. You stay here and wait for the others. Let them
know what’s happened. Gavin will be able to follow my trail, and I’ll signal
when I’ve found her.”

For a moment, Wyatt expected
the pup to argue, but he must have hurt more than he let on, because he nodded
with his lips drawn tight. “Watch yourself, Wyatt. Her wolf’s quite the bitch.”

Wyatt bared some teeth in a
feral grin. “Perfect.” Shifting back into his beast, the moon’s glow aiding him
in what would have taxed him on a regular day, he let his wolf take over,
trusting its instincts to track their woman.

The path he followed meandered
through the woods, the mad dash of an animal confused and maddened by pain.
Wyatt’s heart ached as he saw the signs of her agitation.
If only we’d known this was possible, we would have never left her
alone.

Her transformation did answer a
few questions, though, such as why the rogues wanted her—females were always
prime prey for any Lycan. It also explained why the four of them found
themselves inexplicably drawn to her.
She
was never human to start with.

It did raise an interesting
concern about her, though, such as how did a dormant come to live with humans
in the first place? The mother’s missing information, he’d bet, was a clue that
he’d have to look into, once he found Bailey, that was.

It took him an hour of running
and hunting before he caught sight of her, her steps slowing as she bounded on
four legs through the forest. He yipped to catch her attention, but it didn’t
have the effect wanted. Instead of stopping and facing him, she renewed her
speed, bolting heedlessly. Wyatt followed. It was all he could do.

He just hoped in their mad
flight they didn’t accidentally run across any more rogues—or something worse.

Wolves might have natural
predator tendencies, but some things were bigger on the food chain, like bears,
for one, and he definitely never wanted to tangle with any wildcats again. They
had some nasty razor-sharp claws.

On and on they ran, Bailey’s
steps growing more and more sluggish until they stopped altogether as she
reached a riverbank with a swift-flowing current. She stopped and whirled, her
eyes peering frantically from side to side, the gaze of a trapped animal. Advancing
on her slowly, he noted when she realized she’d lost her chance to escape. Her
lips peeled back from her gums, and she growled, the hackles on her back
rising.

Not wanting to get into a fight
with her, and possibly injure her, he slowed his pace and halted a few feet
from her. He lay down in front of her, resting his head on his paws, and just
looked at her, trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible.

Bit by bit, her aggressive
stance receded, until, with a whine, she collapsed, burying her muzzle between
her paws. Easing forward carefully, he slunk across the ground until he
crouched before her. He rubbed his nose against her, and she whimpered, her
whole frame shaking. Encouraged, he licked her fur with his raspy tongue,
soothing her in the only way he could in this form. He didn’t dare change back
yet, not when she could decide to bolt at any moment—or snap.

He crawled as carefully as
possible to prevent startling her and then pivoted until he lay alongside her.
She leaned into him, still shivering, and he breathed a sigh of relief in his
mind when she fell asleep.

Slumber eluded him, though, as
he watched and waited. He realized he’d never given an audible signal for Gavin
to follow, but he couldn’t let that worry him. Keeping Bailey calm and safe was
all that mattered for the moment. His friend possessed a keen nose. He’d find
them.

Lying beside the she-wolf he
longed to call his own, now more than ever, he wondered if this drastic change
would make her more likely, or less, to bond with them. Previously, when he’d
thought her human, he’d enjoyed knowing that if she chose him, the reason would
center around a mutual affection between them.

Now that she’d turned Lycan,
would emotions still factor into her decision, or would her bestial side make
the choice for her?

Did it matter?

I discovered my feelings for her before I ever knew she was pack.
Judging by her responses to me, I think she felt the same things I did.
Sure, those feelings would probably now seem
more exaggerated with her beast now making its own demands, but he could
content himself with knowing, change or not, she’d have eventually come to him
and learned to care for him the same way he had for her.

It must be love if it can have me being so sappy even in my own mind. I
sound like Gavin.
And he
didn’t care. As she snuggled deeper against him, her trust in him warmed his
heart and reaffirmed his decision to bond with her.

Lycan or human, short
acquaintance, and crazy or not, he would become a part of Bailey’s life, as her
mate and lover.

Excruciating pain woke her, a
familiar agony that made her think of evil red eyes and the cell she’d been
shackled in.

What the hell?

The image of a cadaverous,
grinning facsimile of a man faded in her mind, replaced by the blazing light of
agony as her body melted back into her human self. Sobbing, and shaking, it
took her a few moments to realize arms held her, rocking her. She clutched the
body that offered her comfort, anything to help dispel the nightmare, Unfortunately,
her mind would give her no respite and kept replaying over and over her
horrible change and then . . . the blood.
Oh
God, the blood.

“Jaxon!” she wailed, the
realization of what she’d done making her sob anew.

“Hush, Bailey. He’s going to be
fine. He’s a tough bugger. But what about you? Are you okay?”

Hysterical laughter threatened
to burst forth, and her eyes filled with tears. “N-N-No, I’m n-n-not all right,”
she stuttered. “Oh my God, Wyatt. It hurt so bad. Still hurts.” An ache that
went deep into her bones, muscles, and even stranger, her mind, where an alien
presence now hovered, whimpering.

“I know the pain, sunshine. The
first few times are the worst.”

“First?” Panic made her lift
her head and regard him with wild eyes. “No. No. No.” She shook her head,
sending her hair flying in all directions. “I can’t do that again. I refuse.”

“I don’t think you’ll have a
choice. It would seem you hid a wolf inside you all this time. And now that
she’s been released, you’ll never be without her again.”

As if sensing he spoke about
her, the foreign presence in her mind perked up and rumbled softly. It didn’t
reassure her. “But I don’t want a wolf!” Bailey cried. “I want to be me, Bailey
Donovan, chubby girl with a boring job. Not a werewolf. I can’t be a monster.”

“Well, you know what they say,
you can’t always get what you want,” he replied wryly. “And you’re not a
monster.”

“Says the man who thinks
turning into some murdering animal is okay.”

He tightened his arms around
her, and his voice came out low with a repressed fury she could almost taste
and that made her new wolf growl. “We. Are. Not. Monsters. Do you understand
me?” He shook her lightly.

“What happened last night
between you and Jaxon was an accident because you panicked. It won’t happen
again, because next time, you’ll be prepared.”

“Prepared?” she scoffed.
“Nothing will ever prepare me for a pain so intense I want to kill myself.”

“It will get easier.”

“Says you. And how am I
supposed to deal with the dog in my mind?”

“First off, she’s not a dog, or
a monster. She’s your wolf, an intrinsic part of you, and calling her names
will hurt her feelings.”

The wolf in her mind paced and
seemed to nod in agreement, soundly chastising Bailey for her rude outburst.

“I’m sorry. But this is all so
strange. I-I don’t feel like me anymore.”

“But you are,” he whispered in
her ear. “You are a very special woman, Bailey Donovan. Never forget that.”