Alpha's Revenge (Shifter Ops 3)

WIth the cartel gone, only one obstacle remained in his way-–the wolf pack. And they would be distracted by this sudden move by a hither-to-unseen player. While they were scurrying around on the ground like ants around a ruined hill, he would fly to Utah. With Rafe gone, the way would be clear to meet Adele.

The destruction of the cartel served two purposes: to remove the threat to Adele and remove her pesky Alpha wolf bodyguard from her vicinity. One move: two satisfying outcomes. That was how he played the game.

The taste of smoke lingered in his mouth as he turned for the final leg of his flight.

It was time to meet and claim his mate.

Adele

After breakfast and another mind-blowing round in the sheets with Rafe, his phone rings. His brow furrows as he lunges for it on the nightstand.

“You fucker,” he says when he picks it up. “You hang up on me again and–what?” Rafe flies out of the bed. I hear the loud, brusque tones of someone on the other line–Lance, I think.

“Who killed them? What? I can’t hear y–fuck!” Rafe keeps his back to me as he hunches over his phone. “Lance? You’re breaking up. What is it?” He curses again and brings the phone in front of his face. I hear a ringtone on speaker that goes straight to voicemail. “Fuck, fuck fuck!” he chants.

“What is it?” I ask.

When he turns his eyes have that weird glow to them. “I have to go.” He yanks on a pair of jeans that he grabs from a drawer.

“What? Okay, but what’s happening?”

“It’s the cartel. Lance and the guys located them and moved in this morning against my direct orders.” Rafe scrubs a hand across his roughened jaw as he paces to the dresser to yank out a shirt. “The connection cut out. He said something about the cartel having been killed but that I had to get there right away. He was shouting something urgent, but I couldn’t make it out.”

I launch myself out of bed, too. “Okay, I can be ready in two minutes.”

“Oh no.” Rafe stops and points at me. “You’re not going anywhere.” His eyes flash with dangerous warning. “It’s not safe.”

I’m sure he’s right, but his tone rankles. I lift my chin. “So what? I’m supposed to stay here while you–”

“That’s exactly what you’re going to do. You sit tight. You’re safe here. No one knows about this lair. I can’t be worried about you and my pack–I mean, my team–at the same time. Understand?”

I seriously want to rip his head off.

This bossy thing is beyond old.

But Rafe is half out of his mind with worry. Tense lines bracket his mouth, and the muscles of his neck and back stand out in stark relief as he pulls his t-shirt over his head. “This was a mistake,” he’s muttering. His eyes flash green as he looks right at me. “I can’t deal with distractions.”

Well, excuse me. I didn’t realize I was a distraction. I cross my arms over my chest. If I hug myself tight enough, I can hold my cracked heart together.

He finishes dressing and steps close. His shadow falls over me, and my arms quiver, wanting to wrap around his waist. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’ll call you when I know more. Keep the doors locked. Do not leave this lodge–not even to go in the soaking pool.”

I glare at him.

His lips thin. “Promise me.”

“Fine.”

“Thank you.” The relief in his voice is evident and makes me feel better about giving into him when he’s being such a jerk. He gives me a hard kiss then whirls and marches out.

Rafe

Teddy flies me to an airport in Santa Fe, and we drive out to the last address I have on my packmates’ phones. I still haven’t been able to reach any of them. Teddy takes the wheel while I stay on my phone, trying to call them, and grip the oh-shit handle so hard I leave a palm print on it.

Lance had yelled something about the cartel having been brutally savaged and then, “Oh my fucking God, you won’t believe this,” but that was all I could get other than “Rafe—come here.” The fact that he still hasn’t been in communication scares the crap out of me.

“How you doin’, man?” Teddy glances over at me. My jaw tightens, and I scroll through my phone one more time, refreshing to check for messages. Nothing.

There’s a crack, and I’m holding the pieces of the oh-shit handle in my hand. I roll down the window and hurl them out.

If anything happened to Lance, I’ll never forgive myself. Adele is a fucking distraction–I lost all focus with her, and this time it may have cost me my team. This is my punishment for thinking I could have a mate. I can’t have a mate.