The Pack: Rule Number 1 - No Mates

Chapter Two Hundred Twenty–Eight

GAYLE

“Cane? What the hell do you mean, Cene – Gayle?” Delilah shouts in a pic. Her eyes are glued to mine in the rear–view mirror, and for moment I can’t even speak as I watch the colors of her irises spiral and curl into each other. Colors of gold, turquoise, and green, warring with one another. Battling for dominance. Hope and fear are equally present in her gaze.

I vaguely remember Cane mentioning something about Delilah not being able to hitle the truth of what she was feeling because of her eves. Strangely enough, I hadn’t noticed it until now, and I’m honestly a little surprised that Cane was able to see it. Because for one thing, humans don’t possess even half of the capacity for sight that we, as shifters, have. It’s not their fault, they simply do not retain the ability to distinguish as many colors as we can. They are born less equipped than shifters can and I’m willing to bet thatmost people r even tell that Delilah’s eyes change color at all.

But Cane could, Cane did

possibility of Cane being born with advanced instincts, or heightened senses. It certainly doesn’t seem too for

Suddenly I wonder at the p

fetched.

He was a hell of a hunter… and that wasn’t even the sexiest thing about him. No… ironically enough, what turned me Cane, was what was hiding in his head.

His brain….

on the most about

That thing was more than lethal. His dick fell in at a close second and even now, I can’t help but bite my lip when I think of how much heat he was packing. Some of the Blackjack Boys were in for a humbling surprise for sure. But his mind… It was the single most beautiful piece of him, and it was the one feature that I could honestly say was tops all. Bigger and badder than anyone else around. He was-

What the hell? Not w

was Gayle! Is! Is! Is!

“Gayyyylillece!!! What the fuck?! Stop spacing out!” Delilah screams and I shake myself, my eyes catching on the road and the semi–truck heading straight for us.

“Lilah!” I shout, my hand lifting in what feels like slow motion.

The blare of Quinn’s horn behind us, coupled with the dozen or so others that are also misfortunate enough to be on the road when we are the evening – must frighten Delilah into jerking the wheel just hard enough, and to the right enough, to save us from calamity. At least… that seems to be the only explanation. I can’t seem to dredge up another. Because I know it wasn’t my drunken humanoid reflexes that I’ve suddenly fallen prey to, nor was it Delilah’s extraordinarily delayed response time, having become even more stunted given recent events. However, that can’t be it either, because when I finally work up the good sense to check, I see that her hands aren’t even on the steering wheel at all. Nope. They’re covering her face as she screams.

who in the hell ever taught you to

Eyes on

wheeler must miss us by mere inches. I mean, shit, you might think a few inches don’t matter, but trust me… When those inches are traveling as fast as that descending truck is, with forty tons of God knows what, packed like a fist at the end of a punch, you had better hope you don’t even get clipped by a finger! We’re lucky our wobbly ass jeep didn’t

rig trucks on the highway are not to be fucked with- and should you happen to decide to test out my theory, you

know? Meh… don’t ask. It’s not like I speak from experience

1/3

Two Hundred

the when he put this dream team of ours together and decided to step in to play fed

Mountain. And while I will most definitely heal from it unless

a pestimaist if you must, but I’m thinking a two hundred

soon to be

around me and every possibility and every outcome. Somehow I end up leaping forward and into the front seat. yanking up the emergency brake, and turning the steering wheel word the

Jack? Why? How did

flying over the edge and hit hard enough in

I pull up on the brake harder, closing my

don’t

spent with both Delilah and myself, clutching our arms around each

if somehow we missed the Eary explosion welcoming us to Hell, a

is wrong with you two? Why are you still

that God?”

think it is,” I whisper back. “That sounded a whole hell of a

think we’re alive? Delilah asks.

closer in my arms. “Because… Cane

pop open and her tiny hand claws into my sides. “What? Really?”

tears clouding

fucking God!!!! Delilah shouts and

the both of you in the Escalade. Neither of you is

thrilled that we get to ride in the car with Cane. “Has he started stirring yet?” I Task my brother, jumping out of the jeep without even the tiniest bit of hesitation. “I mean, he probably won’t wake up

and be-”