Darkest Wolf

Darkest Wolf

The Westervelt Wolves Book 7

Rebecca Royce

Published 2012

ISBN 978-1-59578-920-4

Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509

Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2012, Rebecca Royce. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Liquid Silver Books

http://LSbooks.com

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Blurb

Rex Kane has always known he was different than his brothers, down to the fact that when he shifts into his wolf form, his coat is completely black. Always in trouble, he is given one more chance by his brother Tristan, the alpha of the Westervelt pack, to bring back to their island a witch who can stop some of the magical assault that has plagued their war-torn home. Rex knows he has one last chance to set things right. Everything depends on him and he cannot fail.

Elizabeth Willow has been cursed to look so repulsive no human eyes can bear to view her. Raised in a gentle coven of witches, she is ill prepared for the realities of the harsh world she now lives in. Raised to mistrust wolf-shifters as witch-killers, she cannot seem to help being drawn to Rex. Even if she doesn't believe she is his so-called mate. He can see her as she really is and is the first person to look her in the eyes in years.

Although she is not naturally devious, she sees no choice but to use Rex to gain her own freedom and her family’s safety.

Together, Rex and Elizabeth will see just how evil the people around them can be. If they can trust their hearts, perhaps they will survive another night. If not, both of their battles will never be won.

Dedication

To the readers who have made Westervelt so fun for me to write. Thank you, thank you, thank you for the e-mails and messages. I love the wolves too!

Chapter One

The smells of human overindulgence wafted through his nose, making him want to turn on his heel and go out the way he’d gone in.

Rex Kane observed the scene before him with a strange amount of detachment, considering he was currently seeing his mate for the very first time. Two women—no,
witches
, he corrected—lay in strangely positioned forms frozen on the floor. Twins, he would guess them to be. Possibly even identical. He sniffed the air. Yep, they had matching scents. They were the very rare, but absolutely possible oddity, of identical twins. He would never be able to tell them apart, not by smell anyway.

His gaze moved slowly over the diner’s kitchen. At the moment, the twin witches offered no threat to him. They’d been frozen. He had no idea how long they’d stay immobile and, truth was, he didn’t particularly care. Witches didn’t frighten him. They annoyed the piss out of him—there was a difference.

The unconscious man, who, unless his nose was completely off, would wake up again shortly, also didn’t bother him. No, the elderly gentleman seemed to be temporarily stunned. He was also
human
. Not a threat.

But Rex did feel nervous and, considering how rarely anxiety bothered him, he was willing to acknowledge the sensation for a few brief seconds before he would deny it had ever happened completely. He raised an eyebrow and forced his attention to stay on the source of his temporary anxiety: his mate.

You’re sure she’s mine?
He had to ask his wolf again. Maybe there’d been some kind of mistake. The universe couldn’t be this cruel to him.

Ours
. His wolf bristled at the question. His canine half had never liked being questioned over anything.

She’s not even a wolf
. Rex crossed his hands over his chest.
She’s not even latent.

She possesses no wolf blood whatsoever. Wouldn’t you like to make a different choice for
us?

Fate has chosen and she is perfect
. In another second his inner-canine might start growling at him. Rex couldn’t remember the last time he and his other half had been so at odds with one another. It had been decades at least.

He sighed.
She’s a witch
.

And therein lay the problem. Rex hated witches. As far as he was concerned, witches were the bane of humanity. All witches should be put to death before they were allowed to cause any more trouble. In fact, he’d been sent out by his brother to find a witch and bring her back—willing or not—to Westervelt in order to help them with a problem they faced because of
other
witches.

Hell, this sucks
.

His wolf made a sound somewhere between a harrumph and a sigh, which seemed a little odd for a canine.
Your opinion is noted
.

“Witch.” Rex spoke to the woman who would be with him for eternity. “What exactly is going on in this room?”

The little woman glared at him. Her hair fell somewhere between the shades of brown and blonde, hanging low past her shoulders. He had no idea what to call the unusual color but he felt certain she would know how she wanted it referred. Women were particular when it came to their own presentation. She’d either think of herself as being blonde or brunette, and he better not make the mistake of calling it something else or she might turn him into a frog.

Her blue eyes flared with anger and another emotion he didn’t know how to define.

She stood up, and even then she barely reached his midsection. His mate was also small.

Wonderful. She’s also breakable. How fantastic
.

Sarcasm is beneath you, Randolph
. Only his wolf ever used his full name. He hated it.

“Wolf,” she snapped back at him. “What does it look like? They’re frozen, he’s out cold, and I’m going to be dead, dead, dead before the day is over.”

“No you will not.” He scoffed at the idea. No one would harm her. Whatever this—

situation—entailed, he would handle it like he did everything else: with just enough violence to ensure it never happened again.

“Oh yes? You’re some kind of prophet? You can read the future?” She fisted her hands, and he had to suppress the smile threatening to take charge of his face. Whoever this witch turned out to be, she had a spine of steel. Confidence seemed incredibly important as a quality for his mate. Things tended to go to hell quickly for his pack.

“Who are you anyway, and what are you doing here? I’ve had enough wolves today to last me a lifetime.”

“Oh yes? Been consorting with a lot of wolves lately?” He sniffed the air. Yes, the witch was correct. There had been wolves here. A female, if he wasn’t mistaken. He didn’t know her but she had a familiar scent to her like a distant memory he couldn’t make surface. The other wolf—male—he knew, and he almost gasped at the familiarity.

Parker Lewis. He hadn’t seen or heard from him in almost forty years. He’d vanished right after the world had nearly ended for his pack. They’d thought he’d died with his parents.

What the hell had he been doing in this truck stop diner in New Jersey?

No matter. Both Parker and the she-wolf were gone now. He’d have to inform Tristan and move on. He had an agenda and it didn’t include finding Parker and the mysterious female wolf, at least, not yet.

The unknown human man on the floor groaned. Rex watched him silently for a second before growing bored. He extended his hand to the witch. “Come on. We need to leave.”

She looked at his outstretched offering as if he’d handed her the sharp end of a sword to hold. “You need to leave. I need to decide how the hell I’m getting out of trouble and I need to decide fast. Skedaddle. I can’t deal with you now. Go do whatever wolves do, whoever you are.”

“My name is Rex Kane.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Oh great. A Kane. Today just became more complete for me. Out on one of your witch-killing expeditions?”

“It is polite when someone gives you their name to give them one back.” He didn’t want to tell her his true mission wasn’t to kill a witch but to kidnap one. His stop at the diner had been fateful. He’d been filling his car up with gas when he’d scented them inside.

“You want to talk to me about manners?” She stomped forward. “I don’t deal with murderers. I certainly don’t give them my name.”

Nodding, he looked around the room. “As far as I can tell, you have two choices.

You can stay here with this motley crew.” He pointed to the still frozen witch-sisters. “Or you can come with me and let me fix whatever problem you are having.” Why did no one ever see the simple solutions he did? Why did everyone have to make life so complicated? Things were never nearly as difficult as they first seemed to be.

“Simple, huh?” She shook her head. “Seems like it’s out of the frying pan and into the flame.”

He shook his head. “Are your words some kind of expression I should be familiar with?” Humans and their idiocy…

“You might know it if you ever left your strange island but you wolves don’t travel much, do you? You prefer to stay there and fester in between killing witches everywhere you go.”

Seems like she doesn’t like wolves
.

Was his wolf just now paying attention? “Let me be clear.” He stepped toward her.

Over the stink of grease and fatty foods he could smell her personal aroma. He’d always loved citrus. It made everything seem clean and pure. His mate—whoever she was—

smelled like oranges right off the tree. His mouth watered. For the first time ever he had the inclination to grab another being and kiss them—hard—with or without their consent.

I crave her
.

His wolf sighed.
I know
.
Restrain yourself, won’t you?

“You can come with me willingly or I will take you without your consent. Your choice. Make it, nameless-one.”

She threw her hands in the air. “Why are you even concerning yourself with this?

I’m no one to you. Move on.”

“I’m afraid I can’t.” Since he’d found her, he’d have to deal with her regardless of predilection for the dark arts. Was it possible to stop being a witch or was it something where once you started you could never stop?

“Why, by the goddess, can you not?” She covered her mouth. “Now I’m sounding like you. Did anyone ever teach you how to speak so you’d sound more normal?”

“Yes.” He extended his hand again. “I would prefer to have this conversation elsewhere.”

“Why? What conversation are we having?”

He growled at her defiance. His mate defined stubbornness with her pert chin she held high in the air. “You are my mate, witch, and you will come with me wherever I go from now on.”

Silence filled the room. The sound of diners’ complaints from the main restaurant travelled through the double doors to make up the only sound in the area except for the occasional hiss of the fry grill, which he suspected needed to be fiddled with or turned off. The witch had yet to react to his announcement. She stared at him, openmouthed like a landed fish.

“Rex Kane.” Her voice sounded hoarse. “I am not your mate. I could never, would never be a
mate
to a creature like you. Go find one of your own abominations to play with.”

He’d had enough. With a growl he hadn’t planned and couldn’t control, he picked the tiny woman up over his shoulder. She shrieked and kicked her feet. “Put me down this very instant or I will make you sorry you ever touched me.”

“Try it and I will make you repent.” His sisters-in-law had temporarily warded him from witches. It wouldn’t last forever. Hence the reason why they needed a witch—they could never permanently protect themselves from the evil ministrations of his father’s pet coven.

He couldn’t take her out through the diner. In this day and age, humans had rules about abduction and, if she wanted to, the witch could make his life miserably harder than it need be. He would still get her out of there but he could do without the scene she would cause.

Instead, he carted her out the back door of the kitchen. The smell of restaurant garbage made him want to gag as he hurried with the screaming woman still perched over his shoulder toward his van. “Witch, you will listen.” She snarled, an impressive sound considering she was not a canine. “Wolf, you will put me down.”

“I will.” He nodded. “Inside my van. I can either tie you up and stick you in the back, or you can behave like a well brought up woman and sit up front with me.”