AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter1
Xander
My paws thundered against the earth.
In my ears, there was thunder, too.
The August sun beat down on the blacktop like the scourge of the Devil himself. Up ahead, heat rose from the highway out of Portersmith in a shimmering mirage that skirted the orange traffic cones and police car tires of a roadblock. The hot asphalt burned my calloused paw pads, but I ignored the sensation. My lungs seared with each sharp inhale, shuddered with each exhale. Every breath was an annihilation, but I couldn’t stop. Not now.
Miles ago, I’d caught the faintest trail of a scent on the wind—the miasma of burning rubber and gasoline, Melony Houghton’s sticky-sweet vanilla perfume, and the baby-powder scent of my sons’ heads when I cradled them against my chest and pressed my nose to their crowns.
Two days ago, Melony rode off on a motorcycle with my one-month-old sons in tow. With each second that ticked by, she carried them farther away.
The ache in my heart was only half from exertion. The other half was a bloody cocktail, equal parts loss and rage. My mouth was dry and tasted sour, my eyes stung with the need for sleep, but how could I rest when my boys were out there somewhere, in the hands of a madwoman? Melony had attacked Felicity’s best friend and left my brother crawling on his belly across the lawn, dragging a ruined leg behind him, the grass soaked dark with his blood.
The sound of a vehicle coming up the road behind me finally made me pause. I skidded to a stop as a rogue, gray hope took hold of me.
Could that be Melony returning to the scene of her crime? Coming back to try and convince me, yet again, that we were destined to be together? Or maybe just coming to gloat?
I listened to the sound of the engine. The hope died in my chest before it was even fully formed.
Not a bike. A truck.
As it crested a small hill, the truck came into view. From the make and model, I knew it on sight. It was a new Ford F-150, a shiny silver Raptor, fresh out of its dealership plates. Malik, one of the Portersmith sigmas, had bought it just a few weeks ago, probably to impress one of the boys’ nannies. My Uncle Clint had hired an entire fleet of them from the Beau Monde Au Pair Agency to help us care for the boys while Felicity recovered from giving birth. At the time, having so many highly trained, vetted professionals around had felt like a blessing. What more could two new parents of twins ask for?
It was damning to think how quickly that blessing had turned into a curse.
If I’d known then what I knew now, I would have traded every minute of sleep their help had bought us. I wouldn’t have ever let our babies out of my sight.
Gravel crunched as Malik slowed and pulled over on the shoulder. The driver’s side door swung open, and Malik hopped out.
“You are far from home, Xander.” Malik tossed his head, throwing his dreads off his shoulder. The silver and gold clasps at the end of each loc clinked together. His dark skin glowed beneath the searing sun.
I could have answered him with two simple words: no shit. But to actually speak with him meant I’d have to shift back to my human form. Right now, I wasn’t sure which was worse: being corralled into a heart-to-heart with someone who couldn’t possibly fathom my pain, or having to do it naked.
Malik regarded my silence, the deep brown of his gaze gentle but firm. Pitying.
“You need to come back to us, my friend.”
I growled at him, low and threatening. The fur on my shoulders prickled until it stood on end like armored spikes.
Malik had no children. He had no idea the world of hurt I lived in now that mine were gone. Moreover, he was no alpha. He had no business giving orders, especially not to me.
If I wanted to run all the way to Mexico and back, I could. I would if I thought it meant any chance in hell that I could bring my sons back.
“Enough of that.” The cadence of Malik’s Sudanese accent added a no-nonsense air of authority to his words. “Your pack needs you. Your family needs you.” He paused, pursed his lips, and bowed his head. “Your woman needs you.”
I growled again, shorter and sharper this time.
Malik didn’t know what Felicity needed. Neither did I at that point. When I told her that our sons were gone, it had broken her. Broken us, perhaps.
Whatever she needed right now, it sure as fuck wasn’t me.
“She does,” Malik insisted. “Even if she does not say so. This trail is cold. Come back with me. Rest. This is not the way.”
He turned and walked back to his truck. My legs were so weak, I was forced to sit. Only then did I realize how hard I was still panting.
Malik was right. The trail was leading me nowhere. I was spent.
