The Pack: Rule Number 1 - No Mates

he Pack: Rule Number 1 – No Mates.

Chapter Sixty–Seven

DOMONIC

Lam already down the ther from the ocean’s spillway when daun rises. The orange and pink tangerine sky pressing against the long dark of the night. We hunted for hos. Catching the scent of a wolf here and the scent of a human there. Neither with any concrete ties to the other. The tang of the killer still ripe on my senses, called the search to a halt just beyond the beach, Just like that night five years ago, failed. Put at least now, our eyes were open. Now, we had concrete proof that the killer was still watching us. That alone was at least a leg up. Because it was clear to me that whomever was breaking into the bar was not the same guy

The scents didn’t match up. The bar had been broken into by a shafter every time. A cat most likely. Which was the reason behind our broken ties with the Blackjack Pride up until recently, However, I was starting to believe Gryffin had at least some idea who might be beraking into the bar and no idea who the killer was. Pressing me forward as the sky lit to a supreme blue, was the urge, I was having to make it back home before Draven did, because something was telling me she was already

on het was.

She didn’t get even a wink of sleep and I know this because I felt her stress through the band the entire night. She would be headed back to Port Orchard the

moment the rest of the ladies were ready.

I need to be back at my place where Margo is waiting.

Once I reach the station 1 shift at the backside of the building, grabbing my extra clothes and my phone from behind the trees as I head out front. Without saying word to any of my brothers, I dress and hop inside my Hummer to race toward my house, Passing the docks on the way, I see the yacht still hasht pulled into harbor yet and lionesses motorbikes are still parked in the lot.

Good. This gives me just enough time to steel myself against what comes next, hast with the thought, an image of Draven’s smiling face flashes through my mind. I see her as she was the day she arrived, sassy and defiant. I smell her the way I did when she opened the door to the bar that day. All lavender and sweet honey Her essence carried on the ends of her long black locks like sugar on silk. My hist curls over my steering wheel when I imagine the look on her face when I kissed her ch my yacht. The memory of her lips on mine heating flesh to near buming

I am going to miss her so goddamn much.

But this has to be done. Especially now that the killer has stepped back into the gate. Because I’d rather lose Margo to his shit than Draven and that is the ugly, fucked up truth. Homible karma, here I come. I’m swapping Draven out with a bitch could care less about losing.

Yes. That is correct. I’m a piece if shit,

Pulling into my driveway, I waste no time bolting into the house to hit the showers. Stepping into my bedroom, my stomach coll. Margo lay asleep in my bed. Her long hairsprayed tangles fucking up my pillow cases. I sneer, not being able to help myself as I’m hit with the pungent aroma of her cheap ass perfume and the wolf in me growds in revution

Just because she’s gross and a bit of a bitch doesn’t mean she deserves to die Danc

And no, it doesn’t. But at this point in time I really don’t care. The truth is, yes, I would feel bad if Margo was killed because of what I’m about to do. Of course I would, but I doubt I would cry over it. And yeah, I’d probably get put on some universal lat for the forever fucked – but it would be worth it if it meant Draven were alive and well somewhere sale.

So without another thought, I take a deep drink of whiskey, jump in the shower, get dressed, then march my sorry ass downstain to wait in the living room.

us are. All she knows is that I need Draven on the first plane cut of

up with her

probably going to hell.

DRAVEN

the four of us pull into the docks. The entire ride over Coyle and Tadora kept silent as the dead. Emily was the only one bouncing with the excitement of her new

grew up in Miami. Yachts and all manner of boats were a contant sight with different marinas scattered up and down the coast. Sure, it was beautiful there.

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Chapter Sixty–Seven

it’s like here in the summertime.

the boat and immediately beaded for the parking

here,” I say. “The house is just a

motorbikes and both women unlock helmets from beneath the seals. Not

me

• eyes trail across her bike searching for another. “What about

a damn shifter,” she

us are ripping up the street toward Dumonic’s house. The wind and the power of the ride between my legs sends a wave of pure glory through me for a long moment and I suddenly wonder why

of freedom and rising

behind Domonic’s Hummer, something inside of me dies. A curl of despair, rots deep within my chest and I can’t shake my unease no matter how

in front of me. The shades are open and I can see Domenic sitting inside. He awaits me with a cold indifference

placing it over her head. “You have my number. Call me whenever you need me and I’ll be

bad is abo

knows something bad is about to take place.

me,” she prompts

as the two lionesses roar away, I whisper, “Wait here,

1 free. My backpack and a small suitcase lay against the wall

is this, Domonic?” I growl, turning cold eyes his way. “Is that

shoulder have told him I love re

he is looking at me – no, glaring at me – makes me feel like old news. Like some he tasted already, someone he has finished with already. He killed the Doc and he killed Len. Marcus is dead. All open threats vanquished, he thinks

Well fuck that

bar is ready for you now.” He stands, walking toward me with a slow tortured gait. “I can’t have

my eyes despite that I will die before releasing them. “When I’m not going to play this game of his. I’m not going to let him push me away so that