The Pack (The Pack 1)

“It already feels better,” I replied, burying my other hand in the soft fur of his neck. “I was afraid,” I stopped, unable to verbalize the fear. I was afraid it would be you on the ground. Is it wrong that I’m glad it wasn’t?

No, he answered, and for a heartbeat I felt his relief that I was alive, the joy that came with the knowledge I was safe. I feel the same. I was coming to you when he was…killed. I heard the hesitation when he said killed and knew he hadn’t come to terms with that fact they’d shot the alpha. It was a coward’s trick, one Dominic couldn’t accept. I left my alpha undefended.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I told him fiercely, gripping the fur behind his ear. “It wasn’t.”

I knew their plan was to take out the alpha. Sam told me in her letter.

I paused, letting the words sink in.

“Why did he come?” I asked, bewildered why the alpha would risk his life when he knew he was the target.

An alpha fights with his pack, Dominic answered quietly. I failed him though.

I shook my head in immediate denial and his head turned away. I tugged it back toward me, my fingers fisted in his fur.

“Explain.”

We knew they would attack him. Trent and I were supposed to protect him along with my dad. He paused and I waited, sensing his guilt. I felt your pain, and instead of guarding my alpha, I fought my way to you.

My forehead wrinkled at his words, not understanding.

I left my position to go to you. I was too late though. Your father killed the sheriff; a low growl accompanied the thought, his unhappiness at not being the one to kill the sheriff apparent. I was too late to save my alpha as well.

“He was shot. You couldn’t have saved him,” I reminded him, lowering my head to his, my forehead resting in the curve of bone above his now dark golden eyes.

I could have taken the bullet meant for him.

I couldn’t stop the sharp flare of agony that went through me at the thought and Dominic whimpered. I tightened my arms around his neck, my tears soaking into his fur.

“No,” I whispered brokenly. “No.”

I’m okay, he attempted to reassure me, but all my mind could see was Dominic lying on the ground, his black fur soaked in blood. “Jess,” he said, the sound of his voice snapping me out of the image my mind had created. Dominic crouched at my feet, my hands no longer buried in his thick fur but braced against wide, bare shoulders as he rubbed the tears from my face.

“We’re alright,” he promised, dragging my hand to the spot where I’d bitten him, right above his beating heart. “Feel this and know we’re okay.” I nodded, calming as I felt the reassuring thud of his heart.

“Jesus, son. If you want to spend any time at all around my daughter, you better put some pants on.” A hand came over my eyes and I hiccupped which turned into a giggle as I heard Dominic mutter, “Yes, sir.”

“Don’t think we won’t be having a chat, son,” Dad warned him. “You’re lucky I like your dad or this would be an entirely different conversation.”

“Do you think we could have the chat without the rifle in your hand?” Dominic inquired and I reached for the hand covering my eyes.

“Dad!” I shouted when he wouldn’t budge.

“We’ll see,” Dad answered Dominic and he gave me a light shake. “You will remain like this until he puts pants on.”

I bit back my protest that it wasn’t anything I hadn’t already seen, since that knowledge wouldn’t endear Dominic any further to my father. A rush of gratitude at my silence came to me and I smiled. I’ll be right back, Dominic promised and suddenly his heat was gone and I felt Dad relax next to me.

“He’s not so bad,” I said, my eyes still covered.

“He put you in danger,” Dad replied, his voice gruff.

“No, he protected me from danger,” I responded, squeezing his wrist with the hand I had used to try and dislodge him with. “He had nothing to do with me being in danger. That was nothing more than genetics.”

Dad groaned and I felt him settle more heavily against the bench. “Bunny, you got some serious explaining to do.”

“And I will, but, Dad, you have to keep an open mind. I mean, you’re the reason we’re here after all.”

“Don’t remind me. I might never forgive myself,” he answered, his arm tightening over my eyes.

“It’s a good thing,” I reassured him and he snorted. “It is. We belong here. You’ll see.”

“Sir,” Dominic said politely, and I smiled at the image my mind formed of my giant Dominic paying his respects to my dad.

“Son,” Dad said grudgingly. I tapped the hand still covering my eyes and he reluctantly lowered it. I frowned when I saw Dominic had pulled on pants and a shirt, but when Dominic reached for my hand, Dad didn’t protest.