Imprints (Dominant Wolves, Submissive Mates 1)

A bright, orange flickering light up ahead suggested Grant had lit a recent fire. The smoke and fumes began to funnel through the den and Jock waved his hand in front of his face.

Suppressing a cough, Frank covered his mouth and took a deep breath before continuing. He followed Jock at a close distance, but he qu

ickly realized keeping an equivalent pace was a detrimental and quite terrible decision.

A net fell over them as they rounded the last of the rock. They were trapped. They were Grant’s prisoners.

* * * *

“Yes, siree! I caught me two Alphas. Wonder what the packs would think about the two of you now. Hmm?” Grant staggered as he approached them.

Crouched in their human form, Jock glared at the man he’d once thought of as his best friend, practically his brother. “You don’t want to do this.”

Grant scrubbed the side of his face. “Actually I do. I did. I have.”

“You’re making a mistake,” Frank said, dangerously calm.

“Lookie here,” Grant said, circling them. “I guess you’re not these big, bad wolves after all. Are ye?”

“Grant, we came to make peace. We want to explain our positions.”

“That offer fell off the table as soon as this net fell over our heads,” Frank said.

“We can work out a deal,” Jock snapped, wondering why Frank would choose this moment to further provoke Grant.

“What sort of deal do you wanna make? Hmm, Jock?” Grant turned up a flask and took a hearty drink. “Ahh. Ain’t nothing like bug juice to set a man right.”

Frank eyed the container then studied Jock with an intense glare, transmitting messages in an effort to warn him of what he suspected. He believed Grant had full intentions of dousing the rope confining them and setting them afire.

“You’ll remain at my flank in all territorial battles,” Jock assured him. “You’ll have the same position as Heck has for Frank. You’ll still be the pack’s beta.”

“Ah, I see. Two Alphas. Two betas. And one Alpha female.” He took another swig. “Let me ask you somethin’, boys. Do you plan on sharin’ that sweet pussy with me and Heck, or is she reserved for the two wolves sittin’ at the top of the pack?”

“You know the answer to that.” Frank struggled to break free. He clenched his fists around the rope and pulled with all his might.

Grant took a deep breath. “I figured on a lie. Gotta admire ya for the truth there, Frank. You coulda promised me a poke and I might’ve let you go.”

About that time a rifle was cocked in the distance. “Hello, Grant.”

Jock jolted forward, squinting his eyes and making out Carla’s small form.

A hearty laugh fell from Grant’s lips. He dropped his flask and pulled something free of his pocket. Jock was betting on a book of matches.

“I started to make a mention about you,” Grant said.

“If my hearing isn’t failing me, you already did. I’m the pussy you want to poke.”

Grant sneered. “What the hell ya wanna talk like a man for, woman? Ain’t it enough that two of ’em are treatin’ you like a soiled dove? You ain’t gotta go and act like one, too.”

“We were friends, Grant,” she said, glancing over her shoulder when three wolves entered the cave behind her.

“We were,” Grant agreed. “But friends sometimes make the most damnin’ enemies.” He shot Jock a scornful glare. “Ask him. He’ll tell ya.”

“I’ll agree, if that’s what you want,” Jock said.

“We coulda shut ’em out, Jock. We coulda owned this territory. Jest me and you. We didn’t need her. We didn’t need no likes of Frank Smith. Jest me and you. That was the way it was supposed to be.”

“Things change, Grant. People can’t help who they love or even explain why their heart was drawn to one woman over another. You ought to know that. You yourself have had feelings for Carla and now look at you. The way you talk about her is a disgrace. She was your friend.”