Wolf Bite (15 page)

At the edge of Toman’s personal property, Mason parked his truck. He picked up his cell phone and sent a single message to Ryan’s burner phone.
I’m here.
If the man didn’t hear from him again, he would know what happened. Only one regret pulled at him, so he added,
Take care of her.
 

Two words came in response.
I will.

Shutting off the vehicle, he climbed out and tossed his keys back inside. If he lost, it didn’t matter what happened to the car. And if he won? No one would touch it. He stripped the battery out of his phone just in case. No sense in threatening Ryan’s safety. Her father would take his mate, and his children, and go if he didn’t hear from Mason. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the best he could do. He would protect them.

Wolves padded through the woods. He caught a dozen scents on the wind—some familiar and some new. More filtered into the area. Word spread quickly of the Alpha challenge. No one called out to greet him, nor did any try to stop him. Stripping away his shirt, he kicked off his shoes and left his clothes in the bed of the truck.

Naked as the day he was born, he strode up the drive toward the house. Lights blazed from every window. Faces appeared in the windows and more wolves gathered at the corners of the structure. None ventured into the yard, none would interfere.

Toman waited for him, as naked as Mason was. No weapons were allowed in an Alpha challenge. It was a battle of tooth and claw. They
were
the weapons.

“Mason.” The Alpha greeted him, his eyes had already gone wolf, but the loud, booming man Mason remembered didn’t seem so large—or so dangerous. He’d expected to feel hate when he saw the Alpha again. At the very least, the rage that had fueled his entire journey north.

But all he saw in the other man was age—and defeat. Toman didn’t expect to win this fight. Pity filled Mason, but the wolf immediately dismissed the feeling. Their adversary did not rely on physical strength to win, he’d used deception, trickery, and preyed on those weaker than he to achieve his goals. He didn’t deserve pity. Even now, his posture, his attitude—it all spoke to earning sympathy. He didn’t want the straight fight, he wanted the opportunity to surrender or to have Mason ask to return.

He was about to be sorely disappointed.

“Alpha challenge.” Mason spoke loud enough that his voice would carry and even those furthest away in the woods would hear him clearly. It gave no quarter, allowed Toman no opportunity to sway Mason. If he even attempted to do so, he would appear weak to the pack. Toman’s expression hardened and his gaze went cold.

See,
whispered his wolf. They had their quarry.

“Accepted,” Toman said and began his shift. He was fast. The cagey old bastard had the whole of the pack to call upon for strength and he used those bonds now.

Mason, however, was faster. He and his wolf blended together, and his body reshaped itself. Muscles slid and his bones snapped. The ecstasy of pain sucked away all other thoughts then he was on four feet before the Alpha rushed him. Charging, he met him halfway across the field in a crash.

Toman’s teeth sank into his flank and tore fur and skin. This battle wasn’t about testing defenses, it was violent and bloody. Mason paid him a similar favor. He was larger and used his weight to his advantage. One minute into the fight, he had Toman’s back leg in his teeth and he jerked the older wolf off his feet, snapping the bone at the same time.

Though he released a cry of pain, Toman was relentless. He swiped at Mason’s face, his claws nearly taking out one of Mason’s eyes. Tangling together, Mason took him down again. This time, he got his back feet into the soft underside and scored across his belly. Blood sprayed.

Toman went for his throat and Mason avoided his teeth. Feinting as though he were running, he twisted and lunged. The maneuver landed him on Toman’s back. The beast couldn’t hold them both up with one mangled leg and they went down. Snapping, Toman tried to dislodge him, but Mason grabbed the back of his neck and held on. His teeth sank in, penetrating fur, and muscle. The more Toman struggled, the harder Mason held on.

The other wolf collapsed and still Mason bit down. He didn’t trust him. The wolf’s eyes rolled and a howl went up from a single throat.
Toman’s mate.

Her pain stabbed through the battle fury and Mason considered giving Toman the opportunity to surrender. He loosened his hold and the old wolf jerked free, tearing a wide strip of his own hide off in the process.

He bled heavily, but no sign of surrender shimmered in his wild eyes. No, he charged again and Mason let go of his regrets. When they collided this time, Mason tore Toman’s throat out and the old Alpha collapsed one final time.

Dead.
 

Retreating a step, Mason eyed the dead body. A shift in the air was his only warning as the bonds of pack snapped to him. One moment he was alone, and the next awareness of every wolf in range filled him. Their pain, their exultation, their confusion, and their salutations for victory—all of it filled him and he threw his head back and howled.

As one, their voices joined him.

Alpha.
Mason Clayborne was Alpha. In some distant part of his mind, he felt the jerk of distant bonds—the Hustons, the Buckley boy in prison, and many others. Those who ranged away from the pack—the further they were, the longer it took for the links to come, but soon he sensed them all and as suddenly as they burned into his mind, they began to recede.

He would always know where his pack was, but they wouldn’t overwhelm him again. With time, and loyalty, some of the bonds would deepen, while others faded. It was the way of things.

A woman’s sobbing penetrated his wonder and he reached out to Toman’s mate. Unlike the old Alpha, he would not let the widowed mate flee into her grief if he could prevent it. Gathering the new pack bonds, he called to the pack to come and they did. She needed pack to hold her to them and she would have it.

Only when he was certain she was in good hands did he turn away from those clamoring for his attention. He found a phone and he called Ryan. The wolf answered on the first ring.

“Bring me my mate.” It wasn’t a request.

Alexis stared out the window of Ryan’s car as they took the long drive back to Willow Bend. He must have booked plane tickets before he’d arrived at her apartment. No way he’d gotten them first class seats at the last minute. Then again, knowing Ryan, maybe he had. Her father arrived without warning and he’d known before she’d said a word that she was pregnant.

To her horror, her tears started all over again. He’d swooped her up as if she were still a little girl and held her while she cried all over him. Despite the hiccupping sobs, she refused to name Mason as the father or admit she’d seen him. All she’d said was the father couldn’t know and she wanted to move to Europe.

By the time she’d fallen asleep, Ryan had stopped asking her questions. The next morning, he’d returned to her apartment bruised and bloodied. Wolves healed fast, but not fast enough that she couldn’t see the signs of his fight. Terror pitted her stomach—had he killed Mason? He didn’t answer any of her questions, and spent most of the day in silence, staring out the window at the city. She hadn’t missed his tension, tension that only increased when he received a text message. One  he’d refused to share.

Two hours later, his phone rang. Afterward, Ryan informed her they were going home. He didn’t listen to a single one of her arguments. Typical dominant male, once he had an idea in his head, no protest she uttered moved him. She couldn’t even sneak out to run away. He never left her.

The closer to home they traveled, the heavier her heart grew. The woods where she’d first learned about the wolves. The street where Mason held her hand as he’d walked her to get ice cream. Another street where she’d skinned her knees racing on big wheels and he’d had to pick her up and rush her to a healer. Too many memories in the town, which was why she’d had to leave.

For years she’d said it was to escape the wolves and all their rules, but the truth eluded her. Alexis didn’t want to be in Willow Bend without Mason. Not when everywhere she looked, she remembered him. Missed him.

Ached for him.

Her stomach flip-flopped as Ryan took a route that would take her right past Mason’s house. God, she’d never pictured her father as cruel. He was trying to protect her, which she understood. But if her pregnancy began to show in Willow Bend, the wolves would notice.

They would question.

How long before they found out about Mason?

No, she couldn’t let that happen. Ryan would look away from her sooner or later. When he did, she would—“Why are we stopping here?” Dread curdled in her blood. Ryan parked on the street in front of the Clayborne house.

“Because this is where you’re going to stay, sweetheart.” Ryan gave her a small smile.

“No,” she said, and shook her head. “I don’t—I don’t want this house. I thought you were going to make me stay with you and Mom…” She could barely stand to look at the house, it was why she missed him at first. But movement beyond the window jerked her attention. Mason strode down the front walk. He leapt over the fence surrounding the front yard.

The wind brushed his dark hair and his face was marred by a long bloody scratch that nearly bisected his right eye.
Fierce.
No other word fit the look on Mason’s face.

“Daddy, he can’t be here. Don’t make me…”

“It will be okay, Alexis.” Ryan’s soothing voice didn’t match the thundering of her heart. She flushed hot, then cold. Then Mason was there, he had the door open, her seatbelt unsnapped, and her out of the car and into his arms before she could form the words to deny him.

“Thank you,” Mason said to Ryan and not to her. To her shock, her father nodded.

“I will be back later with Tiffany.” He gave her an encouraging smile. Mason closed the car door, still holding her in his arms, and her father pulled away—drove off—leaving her with Mason.

Squirming, she beat on his shoulders. “Put me down.”

“In a moment,” he said, unperturbed by her movement. He gave her a light squeeze. “Let me hold you. I’ve missed you.”

Missed me?
Shock withered under savage fury and she curled her fingers into a fist and hit him. The blow barely staggered him, but it definitely got his attention. “Put. Me. Down.”

Nonplussed, he set her on her feet. “Lexi…I need you to listen to me.”

“Oh, hell to the fuck no. You shouldn’t be
here
.” When he opened his mouth, she held up her hand and glared at him. “I shouldn’t be
here.
You
left
me.” God, he looked so good. Even wounded. Was he hurt anywhere else? She tried not to look, but his left arm sported three deep gouges—claw marks.

“I know I did.” He closed the distance between them and cupped her chin. Trapping her with an arm around her when she tried to evade him. “Stop fighting me,” he ordered and she hit him again. This time, she felt the shock ripple up her arm and her knuckles split. Blood spotted the corner of his mouth, but instead of anger, he grinned and caught her injured hand. “You always did have a temper.”

“You deserved it.” She would not apologize. The scent of him surrounded her and it took everything she had not bury her face against his shirt.

“Yes I did.” His quick acceptance of the blame did not mollify her. “I shouldn’t have left you. I never wanted to. But if you will grant me a few minutes, Lexi my darling, I will explain everything.”

Though he didn’t release her, he wasn’t merely dragging her inside and forcing her to listen. In fact, he was being exceptionally gentle…even more than he normally was with her. Everything in her bottomed out, and the fight in her soul sputtered. “You know.”

“That you’re pregnant?” The corners of his mouth lifted, but sadness not joy filled his eyes. “Yes. I do.”

“They’ll kill you, Mason.” Misery rent her heart and she fisted his shirt, uncaring of how fickle it made her look. She hugged him and tried to hold off her tears. “You broke the law, they’ll kill you.”

“No, darling. They won’t.”

The sounds of others on the street reached her ears and mortification joined her misery. Fantastic, now everyone would know. Mason adjusted his hold on her and she felt, more than saw, him look around. The street emptied. Tears slipped down her cheeks. Mason picked her up. She didn’t fight him this time—it was already too late.

He knew. They were back in Willow Bend. God, it felt worse than the first time she’d discovered him gone. Then, she’d only missed her friend.

The house was quiet and seemed unchanged save for a layer of dust. Mason carried her into the living room and sat on the sofa, cradling her in his lap. “Can I hold you for a minute?”

That he asked made her heart twist and she nodded, burying her face to his shirt. He smelled even better than she remembered—woods, sun, and earth—and beneath all of it, Mason. She could pick out each nuance and while they were lovely, it was their combination she craved.

Stroking her hair, he sighed. “I did miss you. I never would have left—but Margo—Margo was there and I wasn’t supposed to fall in love or to take a mate. But you were in my soul.”

Had he bowed to Toman for her? Grief choked her. He hated Toman—the Alpha had killed his father. She hated Toman for him. “Mason…”

“Shh,” he soothed her, stroking her hair. “This is the part where you have to be quiet and listen. Three things you have to know.” He waited for her nod, then continued. “The first is that Toman is dead.”

Dead?
She jerked and lifted her head to stare at him.

“The second is I killed him.” He met her gaze and held it. No ounce of humor betrayed his statement for anything other than honesty. “I am Alpha of Willow Bend now.”

The world spun and flipped completely upside down.
Mason was Alpha?
He’d returned home, he’d killed Toman. She tried to form the words, but no sound came out. Mason studied her, his regard so intense she felt like he examined her soul.