Wolf Pact (The Complete Saga)

Lawson could feel the end coming, but he didn’t want to acknowledge it yet, did not want to think about what it meant. It was nothing, just a stranger at the door, nobody, no one, it didn’t mean anything, he told himself.

“Probably just the postman or something, I’ll take care of it. Go see how Mac’s doing,” Lawson said. He’d taken on the role of alpha here, was used to giving orders, even to his older brother. Edon did as he was told.

Lawson’s mind was racing in fear, but he was just nervous, he told himself. He pushed aside the metal shutter that covered the peephole window. It was dark, almost black, and he couldn’t see anything. He wiped the glass with the edge of his shirt, and when he looked through again, he saw that the darkness had coalesced into a tall, thin form. A girl.

She stood in a seductive curve, her body sinuous and snakelike, her hand on her hip, jutted out like a fashion model. Her thick dark hair moved with a life of its own, swaying like satin ribbons around her face. Like Medusa, she had a cold and dangerous beauty, the beauty of a cobra or a lioness. She was dressed for battle, her black armor glinting in the twilight.

Lawson stood motionless at the door, unable to shake her gaze. His heart dropped into his stomach; he couldn’t breathe.

No. No. Not now. No.

“Lawson!” Tala’s voice snapped him out of his daze. “What’s wrong? Who is it?”

When he didn’t answer, she pushed him aside to look through the peephole. “Oh no,” she whispered. “Lawson!” she cried. “DO SOMETHING!”

Her voice shook him into action. “THEY’RE HERE!” Lawson yelled. He could smell the hounds now. They’d be on them in an instant, coming from all directions, ducking through shadows and hiding in trees, making their way toward the house, bringing fire and ash.

“Make sure Edon doesn’t see!” he said, grabbing Tala’s arm. Lawson began to barricade the door, tossing everything he could find against it—the chairs, the kitchen table. “Get everything we need! We’re not coming back!”

Tala nodded and ran to secure the treasures of their pack.

“RAFE!” he cried. “Everyone to the middle, get ready to jump!”

“I’ve got it!” his brother yelled, hustling Malcolm toward the living room.

Hellhounds! Here!

Now!

He was so frightened he couldn’t think, but he had to concentrate if he was going to get them all out of there, if they were going to survive this.

“It’ll hold,” Lawson said to Malcolm, who was shaking. “They can’t get in the house.”

Wordlessly, Tala pointed to the windows, her eyes wide with fright and despair.

He turned to see. Outside, flames ringed the perimeter. If the hounds couldn’t enter the house, they would burn it to the ground.

The circle of flames was still far enough away that Lawson could see the snow-covered grass in between the fire and the house. But it wouldn’t be long before the fire gained energy and started moving closer. All his planning, all his nights of worry wasted. The first home they’d ever had, about to be destroyed. His biggest fear was upon them, and he hated himself for thinking they’d been safe even for a moment. He slammed a fist hard against the wall.

Tala grabbed him by the shoulder. “Don’t. We’ll find another home. We built this one together, and we’ll build another.”

He swallowed hard, kissed her forehead brusquely. Thank god for Tala.

The scent of smoke made its way into the living room.

“Where’s Edon?” Rafe asked.

Lawson knew where he was. He exchanged anguished looks with Tala. “I’ll get him,” she said.

“No—let me,” Lawson said.

He ran to the kitchen.

Edon stood transfixed at the front door, peering out through the peephole. “You didn’t tell me,” he said without moving; he must have heard Lawson’s footsteps behind him.

A low, throaty voice whispered from the doorway, “Come to me, Edon.…I’ve missed you so much.”

“It’s not her,” Lawson said. “Not really. Not anymore. You know that.” He’d seen her eyes, seen how their blue had turned a deep reddish black. “Ahri’s one of them now.” Ahramin had been turned. She was no longer a wolf; she walked upright; she carried a black sword; she was an extension of Romulus’s will. A Hound of Hell.