Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
I get a full hour of peace, quiet, and simply getting to be with my mate. It feels like a small form of heaven.
Then, all hell breaks loose.
The sound of an engine, followed by another engine, followed by… hell, it’s a convoy of black trucks, and they’re all turning up the long white stone drive to the house.
Callie and I look at one another. She half-smiles and gives me a slight shrug. She’s wearing another white dress. They look good on her. Brings out the blonde in her hair and the blue in her eyes, along with her complete lack of concern for moments like these that make my nervous system throb with concern.
There’s not enough time to run, if I could convince her to, and I don’t think I could. Her expression is serene as the lead car pulls up in front of the house, and my father and his henchmen step out.
I knew this wouldn’t be entirely simple. I knew my father wouldn’t be able to take the insult of having had Calista break out of his facility and then talk shit to him on the phone. I knew he’d come after her. He’s come hard, too. There have to be at least a hundred wolves with him, ranged down the drive, all bristling with weapons and desire for the hunt.
Karl is standing to his left with a smirk on his face, his arms folded over his chest. They’re all dressed up like discount commandos, gun belts on their waists, thighs, and anywhere else they can fit them. It makes them look like a pack of…
“You look like a bunch of accountants heading out to a fake Marine induction weekend where you’ll get yelled at by some guy who got a dishonorable discharge from the army and gets off on pushing people into ice baths,” Callie calls out before I can so much as finish the thought.
Christ. She is not going to make this easy. She is going to make it funny. We both get up and move toward my father and his army.
“Why are you here?” I follow her comment with a question, reaching for her arm and drawing her back behind me gently. I want to look worried about her. I don’t want to give away any hint of her true nature.
“We’ve come for her,” Orion says, looking at me as if I am barely anything worth considering. “She belongs to us. Legally. We own the patent on her DNA.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“We own her DNA,” Orion repeats, as if saying something twice makes it more acceptable.
“She’s a person, you can’t own someone’s DNA.”
“Actually there is some precedent for it,” Calista mumbles. “But only a sociopath would try to make it stand up in court. A sociopath who likes losing. Like a loser.”
She seems to take particular glee in taunting my father. I don’t know where she got the hostility from, but it has been there from the beginning, though she tried to keep it quiet to begin with. Now no holds are barred.
“My son has not taught you any manners,” Orion says. “But I will. I will beat you bloody before you warm my bed.”
“I will stab you in the throat,” she says. “But that’s enough foreplay for now.”
Orion is done hearing her mouth off. He jerks his head toward her.
“Get her, boys.”
Callie laughs. It’s a sound that starts out mockingly feminine, but deepens into a terrible chuckle as wolves flow toward her, bounding on strong paws.
This is a mistake. A big one. They think they can take her down through numbers. They don’t want to kill her, but they are trying to subdue their prize.
Callie, on the other hand, has no qualms about killing. They’ve forgotten that. They’ve neglected the fact that when you come for the queen, you can’t just come in numbers, you have to come smart and tactical.
Callie shifts.
I’m surprised she has it in her. Usually a werewolf who just shifted for the first time would spend days recovering, but she slips out of her human form as if it was an inconveniently small bathing suit. There is a sudden cascade of fur, and a display of white fangs that are not close to the ground but nearly six feet off it. She lets out a roar of pure feral glee.
There is no fear in her, and like a group of attacking dogs suddenly realizing that their prey may not be prey after all, the pack panics.
The sounds of startled and shocked wolves fill the air. Some of them fall out of their wolf forms entirely and just start scrabbling around in desperation. Callie throws back her head and howls, a deep, primal sound that creates fear in some and submission in others. Belly crawling toward her, making soft whines that are designed to make her take mercy on them.