SNOWBOUND WITH THE ALPHA WOLF: Werewolves of Montana Book 11 by Bonnie Vanak

Author:Bonnie Vanak [Vanak, Bonnie]
Language: eng
Format: epub

9

Ten years ago when Adrian had formed his own pack, he’d taught them all several skills to survive. Never did he want any member helpless and forced to do another’s bidding.

As he coached them in the skills they needed to fight and defend themselves, Adrian had told them, “Self-preservation means survival of yourselves at all costs. And if it means breaking Skin laws at times of extreme danger, then do it.”

Now he made good on a promise uttered ten years ago when he’d left Lars alone, bleeding and mostly dead in the mineshaft. The former pack leader would never again harm someone Adrian loved.

“You’re not getting her, you bastard,” he muttered, flexing his fingers, watching his claws emerge. “You’ll have to get through me first.”

Ten years ago, he’d screwed up by not burning Lars’s body, ensuring he would never rise. Too much in a hurry, too worried about his terrified pack and the vulnerable elders and young, he’d dumped Lars down a deep shaft, reasoning that would suffice.

Not anymore.

The crystal in Darcy’s hands glowed pure white with power, as if recognizing the evil creeping toward them.

Power. Such power. It could save them.

No. It was Peggy’s jewel, and without it, the elder would suffer. He would fight Lars with all he had. Go down fighting if he must.

Darcy rushed forward, as Adrian groaned. He’d forgotten her propensity for engaging evil, her sheer courage. Her utter heroism when faced with danger.

Adrian tried to grab her but missed. She darted past.

“Lars!” he roared. “It’s me you want—Adrian!”

Skidding to a halt a bare twenty feet before Lars, Darcy withdrew the knife hanging from her belt. She held it out and danced around him.

“Come and get it,” she taunted.

The thing staggering toward them scarcely resembled his former alpha. Wisps of gray-black hair covered the thin skull, and the eyes were pits of black. Rotting clothing hung on his spare frame. His clavicle jutted out. More bones than flesh.

But somehow touching the jewel had triggered its power, and magick had sifted through the mine, serving to empower Lars.

Fear clogged his throat as Lars turned to Darcy. Darcy was a good fighter, but weakened by the shifting into a bat, she didn’t stand a chance against a powerful male who outweighed her by more than a hundred pounds. A male who’d descended into hell and then emerged, tainted with evil and power.

Adrian shifted into a wolf as Lars pounced on Darcy.

A long howl echoed through the mineshaft. Then they shifted into wolves.

Darcy’s gray wolf snarled at a black wolf, but it wasn’t a wolf. Not Lars. This was the conjuring of some nightmare. Red eyes, fangs dripping with acid, it was misshapen and hunched over, patchy fur covering its body, as if someone had tried to make a wolf and failed.

Adrian snarled as he ran forward. He sprang at the hideous creature, sinking sharp fangs into its hindquarters. Lars howled and turned toward Adrian, who released him and stepped back, ready to attack again.

Lars raced forward and sank his fangs into Darcy’s shoulder.

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