Heart of the Wolf: A Wolfguard Protectors Novel Read online




  Heart of the Wolf

  A Wofguard Protector Novel

  Kimber White

  Nokay Press LLC

  Copyright © 2020 by Kimber White/Nokay Press LLC

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author or publisher, except where permitted by law or for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Edward’s Story - CH 1

  About the Author

  Books by Kimber White

  Chapter One

  Nova

  “Well, aren’t you something to see!” Lou Palmer looked me up and down, but there was nothing lascivious in it. I couldn’t say the same for his son Lou Jr. L.J. stood by the door of his father’s bait shop holding a case of beer.

  “Good to see you, Lou,” I said, trying to ignore L.J. and focus on the elder Powell.

  “I was starting to get worried,” Lou said. “Can almost set my watch on when you’ll come down from the mountain.”

  The “mountain” was really more of a large hill overlooking Goose Lake. My log cabin had been built just before the Civil War and I’d paid cash for it four years ago. Lou and the rest of this tiny town of Little Fork, Montana thought it was haunted. That suited me just fine.

  “The usual?” Lou asked.

  “Sure thing,” I answered. Lou shot a look at his son. L.J. put the beer down and started filling up a bag with the meager cleaning supplies I got from Lou. White vinegar, the smallest bottle of bleach Lou sold, then some jerky and a few other snacks they knew I liked.

  I deposited last month’s recycling in Lou’s blue bin by the bathroom. As far as I knew, I was the only person he let use it.

  “Everything okay up there?” he asked.

  “Everything’s quiet,” I said. “What about down here?”

  Little Fork was a sleepy, tucked away little town on the edge of Flathead National Forest. With an off-season population just over a hundred, that number tripled for a few months out of the year. In addition to the general store, Lou ran the town’s three boarding houses along with L.J. and his fourth, or maybe fifth wife Louanne. The Lous. They also had a twelve-year-old daughter named Louise roaming around somewhere. That’s how I’d been introduced to them four years ago when I’d found this place.

  “Oh,” he said, peering over the counter. He waited until L.J. disappeared into the stockroom. “Same old, same old. I was gonna send Louise up there to check on you. I don’t know where she’s got off to. That girl’s like a jackrabbit, darting in and out. Can’t sit still to save her life. Always figured she might actually turn into one one of these days.”

  Lou gave me a wink. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck bristled. Lou had been around a long time. Though I’d never asked him, I felt fairly sure he’d encountered a shifter or two. He’d never come out and told me directly, but it was little things. He’d used the phrase “people like you” more than once. I’d heard him tell L.J. he knew I could take care of myself and even once that I was special. He often gave me a hard look, focusing on my eyes. It was the easiest way to spot a shifter if you knew what you were looking for.

  I was pretty sure Lou didn’t. If he knew or even suspected, Lou Powell had likely never seen a shifter like me. Bears and wolves would be more common around here. I was something different.

  “What’s up, Lou?” I asked. My shoulder blades tensed. The jungle cat inside of me stirred.

  “Nothing,” he said. “But I know you have an arrangement with Louise. Now, don’t you worry. She didn’t rat you out. I just know her. She looks up to you. Anyway, she was in the store the other day and some folks were asking about the cabin. That’s all.”

  “The cabin?” I asked. I fished a twenty out of the back pocket of my jeans and slid it across the counter.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Seemed to know someone was living in it again or had done some work to it.”

  “What folks?” I said. A rumbling vibration went through me. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from purring.

  “Big fella,” Lou said. “Dark hair. He was...uh...well...real big. Had the eyes.”

  My pulse raced. It was the most direct thing he’d ever said about shifters to me.

  I looked over my shoulder. L.J. was still gone.

  “Just one fellow?” I asked. It was probably nothing. The log cabin wasn’t a secret. It had been part of local lore for generations. Its haunted reputation kept most people at bay, and that’s what had drawn me to it in the first place. That and its positioning at the top of that hill. There was only one way in or out and I could scent anything headed my way.

  “Just the one that I saw,” he said. “He was driving a black SUV with the windows tinted out. So, I don’t know if he had a buddy or two with him. He just didn’t look like a tourist. And, well, he had a funny way of talking.”

  “He did?”

  “Yeah,” Lou said. “Like an accent. I’m not good with those.”

  My heart raced. “Can you think of maybe an actor he sounded like?” I racked my brain trying to think of someone to reference.

  “Like Arnold?” I asked. “Liam Neeson? Antonio Banderas?”

  Lou scratched his chin. “Well, it was none of those. More subtle-like. Actually, he sounded like a hockey player.”

  A hockey player? “Um, Canadian?” That made no sense.

  Lou shook his head. “No, one of those Russians. Used to be a huge Red Wings fan in the Nineties.”

  Russian. What the actual hell?

  “Anyway,” Lou continued. “Pleasant enough guy. And it’s nothing. I just figured you’d want to know. It was a few days ago. Louanne must have put Louise on some chore or another and she forgot to clue you in.”

  “Thanks, Lou,” I said, finding a smile.

  “You want some help with that?” L.J. reappeared.

  “I’m good,” I answered. “Thanks, though.”

  I left the Lous smiling after me as I headed outside. I kept my ATV parked at an angle in front of the store. I secured my grocery bag and climbed on.

  A quick scan of the street yielded nothing amiss. There were only a handful of people milling around. Nothing piqued my senses. My cat still stirred, but stayed calm.

  I revved the engine and headed north, the hill casting a jagged shadow over the tiny downtown area.

  It was nothing. It had to be nothing. Lou said this mysterious possibly Russian “inquir
er” had blown through town several days ago. Surely, I would have sensed something by now if the man planned on messing with me.

  I drove the ATV to the base of the hill and parked it beneath a dense cluster of trees. Sliding my grocery bag off the back, I pulled a false canopy of leaves over the bike, concealing it from anyone who might have just happened by. I preferred to approach the cabin on foot.

  I lifted my nose, sniffing the air. I let my jaguar out just enough to open my senses. Closing my eyes, I picked up the trail of a rabbit to the east of me. I heard the rushing whisper of a snake as he moved through dead leaves. Further up the hill, a doe had bedded down with her fawn. My stomach growled. It had been a few days since I’d gone on a proper hunt.

  I started up the hill, taking a different trail than I normally did. I looked for anything amiss. A footprint. Broken branches. Any scents that didn’t belong.

  I pushed through to the clearing. My tiny cabin sat further up in the center of it. For almost four years now, I’d lived mostly off the grid. No phone. No internet. No electricity. The only souls who knew I lived here were the handful around town. The Powells. Jim and Stacy Proctor who ran the only diner for miles. They all only knew me by my first name.

  Even a resourceful busybody wouldn’t find out much by checking into the property records on the cabin. I’d used a family-owned holding company to buy it. A shell within a shell designed to shield us from nosy people and more dangerous people.

  Except, there was nobody else to shield anymore. There was just me. I blinked hard, driving away thoughts of those I’d lost. My parents. Uncles. Aunts. Cousins. Every single member of my branch of the Grey family was gone. Wiped out. Disappeared.

  I thought of Sena, my sister. All the promises my father had made about her safety. How everything he did was in our best interests. My blood heated and that familiar, bitter taste filled my mouth. It would be so easy to hate. But if I let it in, it would eat me up inside.

  I stopped at the stream then ran down the west side of the hill. The water was cool and clear. I pulled three plastic bottles out of my bag along with the bleach. I filled up the bottles and put just a few drops of bleach in each one. Enough to kill any harmful bacteria and make it safe to drink. I’d come back for more later.

  The wind shifted. My laundry lifted on the line at the side of the house. A shadow moved across the sheets.

  I dropped the water bottles. Crouching on all fours, I dug my fingers into the ground.

  The urge to shift coursed through me. My claws came out. But, I didn’t dare give in to it all the way. If someone was watching, I couldn’t let them see.

  “Nova!”

  I heard my name whispered on the wind. No. It was impossible. I was just jumpy from Lou’s news.

  I couldn’t stop the rhythmic purr escaping from my throat.

  There. Finally. I scented something that wasn’t supposed to be here.

  To my left, blackbirds lifted off from the trees. They cawed out a warning.

  Stupid. I shouldn’t have come back up here. I should have waited a few days, shifted, gone to ground.

  But this was my home now. I would defend it. If I didn’t do it now, whoever this was would just keep coming back.

  To my right, something moved so fast I barely saw it. Big. A flash of silver. A tuft of fur.

  Wolves.

  Lord. I could smell them everywhere now. Their heat. Their anger. Why hadn’t I scented them on the trail coming up?

  If an entire pack tried to move in, I’d never be able to fight them all off by myself.

  But why would they come here? The land around the cabin wasn't nearly big enough to satisfy their needs. Montana had always been sort of a buffer zone between the Canadian packs and those further west. It’s why I picked it.

  I heard glass breaking. Son of a bitch. The bastards were inside my house.

  Fight or flight. They hadn’t scented me yet. But it was only a matter of time.

  Two huge black wolves came around the side of the house. In the doorway, another emerged from the shadows. He shifted. The man was massive with great muscled calves and long, shaggy black hair. He made a downward gesture with his fingers, signaling to the black wolves beside him.

  An Alpha. He lifted his nose and scented the air. I shrank back. My legs trembled with the need to shift myself.

  But, the second I did that, he would be able to track me for sure. A lone jaguar among a thirsty pack of wolves. Only, I knew the territory better than they did. I just didn’t know how many there were.

  The leader’s eyes flashed cold blue, then, the eyes of the wolves beside him flashed red. My heart stuck in my throat. Red. Their eyes were red. It meant he was probably a Tyrannous Alpha. He exerted total power over his betas. In my experience, that only meant one thing. They were here to kill.

  The Alpha shifted back into his wolf. He was one of the biggest I’d ever seen. And he was staring straight at me.

  I staggered backward, nearly tumbling into the stream.

  I couldn’t breathe. A hand clamped over my mouth. Lips brushed against my ear. His voice was deep, strong, the hint of a Russian accent, unmistakable.

  “Shhh,” he said. “Don’t move. Don’t scream. Don’t shift. That is, if you want to get out of here alive.”

  Chapter Two

  Erik

  The job was supposed to be a cakewalk. Find the girl. Make sure she’s safe. Report back to the client.

  I didn’t even really know who the client was. It wasn’t my job to know. I left all that to Payne Fallon, my boss. Head of the Wolfguard Security firm and one of the finest Alpha wolves I knew. He’d become like family, which was saying something. I came from a family of wolf shifters with a big reputation of our own.

  My uncle Andre headed the largest, most powerful pack in Russia. He’d sacrificed so much over the years to keep me, my twin brother, and the rest of our family safe and prosperous. I loved the work I did for Wolfguard. I thrived on it. But I always knew I had a place in Moscow if I ever wanted it.

  So, here I was, in the middle of the Montana wild looking for some wildcat who managed to piss off someone rich enough to hire Wolfguard.

  She was too damn easy to find for someone like me. I’d been given just one item to track her with. A scarf she’d worn in her hair. The second I brought it to my nose, something strange happened to me. I’d been sitting in Payne’s office and damn near shifted right then and there.

  Payne had given me some serious side-eye as he watched me try to cover.

  “It’s enough,” I’d told him. “Am I bringing this one in or just sitting on her?”

  “I’d prefer it if you didn’t get too close,” he said. “For now just give me proof of life, if you will. She’s been AWOL from her clan for a really long time. You and I both know how dangerous that can be for female shifters these days. This girl’s resisted every offer of help.”

  I only knew of a handful of female wolf shifters. I’d never come across one of a different species. To be honest, I didn’t even think there were any until recently. Hundreds of years ago, shifters suffered from a witch’s curse aimed at wiping us out. It hadn’t worked as fast as those ancient witches wanted. Instead, it just made female shifters all but extinct.

  “Anything else I should know about?” I asked. “Am I the only one looking for this girl?”

  I picked up the file Payne handed me on her. It contained just one grainy photo of the girl. It was taken from a high-powered lens through a window. She stood staring out at the trees.

  Damn pretty. Sleek, long, midnight-black hair that I knew would feel like velvet. It probably matched her jaguar fur.

  Payne raised a brow. “You know it’s never that easy. Nova Grey is a rare commodity. It’s only a matter of time before the Ring figures out she’s on her own.”

  The Ring. A shudder went through me. We were still learning about their organization. What we knew so far was sobering. The Ring had been trying to accumulate power over shifters for a
while now. Lately, their M.O. was nabbing human women, shifter’s mates, and trafficking them to some less than savory shifter groups. As far as we knew, they had no loyalty, aligning themselves with shifters and witches indiscriminately.

  “They get their hands on a full-blooded jaguar female…” I couldn’t even finish the sentence. Rage bubbled through me as I started at this Nova Grey’s picture. Even her faint, year-old scent on that scarf stirred something dark in me.

  “She’s been taking care of herself all right,” Payne said. “We think, anyway. But that’s your job. Confirm it. Our client doesn’t want to wreck whatever life she’s built. They just want to make sure she’s aware of the new dangers the Ring might pose to her. So don’t make contact with her when you find her. Not at first. Just call it in when you’ve got eyes on her, and I’ll figure out what's next.”

  “Good enough,” I said. Eyeballs and a phone call. I could do that.

  That was the plan, anyway. Only it didn’t work out that way at all.

  Wolf scent was all around. They’d overrun the hillside, zigzagging through her property, up and down the stream. But, it wasn’t like any shifter scent I’d ever encountered. These bastards were using something powerful to try and cloak it. Magic. Friggin’ witches.

  It might have worked if I hadn’t found Nova Grey’s little cabin hideaway when I did. They were masking themselves from a jaguar. They hadn’t planned on me.

  Neither had Nova Grey. She stood at the bank of the stream, her nose twitching as she finally caught the scent of something she knew shouldn’t be there. She started to shift.