Summit of the Wolf Read online

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  An Unbreakable Bond

  Morgan Carter is a claimed werewolf. Only her mate, Greyson Crawford, has the right to protect her, and to love her. But that hasn’t stopped rival packs from challenging Greyson’s claim. Morgan is the last silver wolf—the only female with the ability to produce werewolf offspring, which means there are many who would defy pack law to make her their own.

  An Unstoppable Evil

  When war comes to the Silver Wolf Clan on the eve of The Summit, Morgan and Greyson have no choice but to fight for their kind. With the arrival of an ancient enemy, the two realize that the war has only just begun, and to survive the greatest threat they have ever faced, they must learn to trust each other again…

  Visit us at www.kensingtonbooks.com

  Books by Tera Shanley

  Silver Wolf Clan Series

  Silver Wolf Clan, Book One

  Black Wolf’s Revenge, Book Two

  Brand of the Pack, Book Three

  Summit of the Wolf, Book Four

  An Unwilling Husband

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  Summit of the Wolf

  A Silver Wolf Clan Novel

  Tera Shanley

  LYRICAL PRESS

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  Copyright

  Lyrical Press books are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2015 by Tera Shanley

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

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  Lyrical Press and the L logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.

  First Electronic Edition: September 2015

  eISBN-13: 978-1-61650-580-6

  eISBN-10: 1-61650-580-X

  Printed in the United States of America

  Dedication

  For Anthony

  Acknowledgements

  A huge thank you to Corinne DeMaagd for her work on cleaning up this story. To my husband and children, who put up with my ever-shifting work hours. For my parents, Paul and Paula Muller who always support me in whatever crazy schemes I come up with. And finally, thank you to Lyrical Press and to Renee Rocco for giving this series a home.

  Chapter 1

  Morgan gasped and clung to the grab handle of Greyson’s truck for dear life. A horrible screeching sound of metal on metal wailed out as another car collided with the bed of the truck. The men chasing them pulled away, then floored it to catch up again.

  Grey’s hand clenched her thigh protectively as he hit the gas and tried to maneuver away from the four-wheeled battering ram. “If we roll, I want you to get out as fast as you can and run for the woods. Change, and when you are a wolf, run for Dean’s.”

  “I won’t leave you.” She panted, terror seizing her chest. Her dark hair whipped out of the broken window when she turned and saw the black Ford Escape catching up to them again.

  “They’ll take you, Morgan. It’ll be Montana all over again.”

  Montana. Just the word brought on the cold sweats. That’s where her kidnappers had taken her. That’s where she had been battered and abused for what she was—for being Silver Wolf.

  “What do they want?”

  “They want you, and they are determined to plow right through me to get to you. They must have been tailing us all day because they knew the minute we left the hotel.”

  Well, the honeymoon was over. Dean had called an hour ago with the message, “Get home now.” Clearly, he’d lost his mind. That old wolf knew better than to give Grey an order. Demon Wolf would happily rip his throat out and squat on the grave if he wasn’t his friend and ally.

  Dean had given the message and hung up. Never a good sign when the Dallas pack alpha didn’t offer an explanation. Trouble was coming, and it was as big and wide as a sandstorm.

  The Escape jerked away and then swerved into them again with an explosion of metal and glass. The back of the truck fishtailed, and Grey struggled to straighten it back out without slowing. They swerved across the dirt road as if it was made of ice and not Texas gravel. If they rolled here, they’d be just miles from Dean’s property, where they could find backup. Dean’s pack had made a pledge to ally themselves with Grey’s in order to offer Morgan protection—the perks of being one of a kind.

  She ripped her gaze from the dizzying road before them. Grey’s sandy blond hair thrashed around his face, and his eyebrows furrowed with unbridled focus. His jaw clenched against the beautifully masculine angles of his face, but his eyes belonged to the lupine Bringer of Death inside of him, golden yellow and seething. The other car was catching up again, but her mate just smiled as if he knew a secret.

  Wolf thrived on danger.

  She spun to find Brent’s SUV pulling up beside the Escape. Fine-grained dirt billowed in a trail behind it, and Dean’s most submissive wolf leaned forward against the steering wheel with such a look of concentration, she almost missed Jason, the pack enforcer, shouting encouragement from the passenger seat.

  The cavalry had arrived.

  Grey’s truck couldn’t take much more, and the driver of the Escape was cocky. He whipped his car into our side in a final effort to release Grey’s Chevy from the road, but at the same moment, Brent sideswiped the back end of the attacker. It was enough. The Escape spun out of control, barely missing Brent as he jerked the wheel to avoid them. Morgan screamed as the truck slid to the side and down into the steep ditch that defined the road like a mote on each side.

  Grey punched the gas, but the angle was too severe to escape the ditch. They came to a dusty stop as the truck rocked and groaned against the abuse.

  Through the fog of grit, Brent pulled over and Jason hopped out to check on the flipped Escape.

  “We’re good,” the burly wolf said in a quiet, somber voice. Werewolf hearing didn’t require much yelling.

  “Give me a minute,” Grey said as he threw the truck into neutral. “We’re stuck.”

  Morgan slid over into the driver’s side. She gripped the steering wheel as her mate picked up the back end of the vehicle as if it was a gallon of milk.

  His phone trilled loudly, and she hunched against the sound. Dean’s name flashed across the screen. She punched accept. “Dean? I’m putting you on speaker. Grey’s getting us out of a ditch.”

  “Everyone alright?” He asked.

  She glanced at the upside-down Escape. “Mostly.”

  She lurched forward as Grey shifted the truck, then turned the steering wheel and angled the tires while he shoved them forward. Geez, her mate was strong. She’d seen just how tough he was before, but it still caught her by surprise.

  “Sorry I interrupted the honeymoon, but I have news,” Dea
n said. “Brandon and Logan were out for a run, and they smelled a bunch of unfamiliars near your property line. They crossed over to get a better look, and there are three full carloads of wolves waiting at the cabin. They ran back here to Change and fill me in. How do you want to handle this?”

  Morgan slid over to the passenger’s seat when Grey opened the door.

  There was no surprise in Grey’s voice, only grim acceptance as he crawled behind the wheel and slammed the door closed. “We’re about to turn into your drive right now.”

  “You want to try to wait them out over here?”

  “No. They’ll wise up sooner or later and head to your place. We don’t want that, and I don’t think waiting them out will deter them, anyway. I need to bring Morgan over to wait with Rachel and Marissa. I’ll try to talk them down, but I might need backup if it gets ugly.”

  “Yep, whatever you need. I’ve called the pack in. Everyone is here but Jason and Brent, and they should be here any minute.”

  Grey slid burning golden eyes to the rearview mirror. “Yeah, they are right behind me.”

  “Good. See you in a few.”

  He gripped the helpless phone and tossed it into the console with a clunk. That phone didn’t even realize how lucky it was to be spared Wolf’s violence.

  “Grey, you are still injured from the challenges. You can’t fight them right now, and I can’t wait at Dean’s place not knowing what is happening.”

  “I’ll try to keep it from going there. I’ll be all right, and Dean and the boys will back me up if I need it. You can’t be there because it will make them crazy, and we’ll lose any chance we have at keeping it civil. I need to know you are safe.” He squeezed her leg gently.

  She held her tongue. It would do no good to put her fears on him. He had enough to worry about at the moment, even if he looked calm and collected. Wolf was made for conflict.

  The pack was waiting on the front porch as he pulled the truck to an abrupt stop. Brent and Jason skidded to a halt behind them. Marissa, her young packmate, dragged her through the front door and past the murmured strategy. Rachel, Dean’s mate, sat on the couch biting her thumbnail absently. Even when she looked at Morgan, she was a hundred miles away. Morgan sat heavily beside her, and Marissa perched on the arm of the sofa. None of them spoke, and their collective worry filled the room until it was hard to breathe. This kind of conflict, with the number of wolves involved, could potentially wipe out entire packs.

  This was all her fault. She was Silver Wolf, the only breeding female werewolf in existence, and the male werewolves were in a violent frenzy to claim her. She had brought a fight to the door of the ones she loved because of what she was. It was a burning ember in her gut. Grey stood by the front windows, his silhouette stern and authoritative. He was planning the most efficient way to save her. She was completely helpless to stop what was coming. Even if she gave herself over to another pack, there would be fights for her there, as well. Not for her. For Silver Wolf. People would be hurt, people she cared about, and the consequences would be unforgiveable.

  Grey turned from the window to leave, and she rushed to say goodbye. The girls followed her.

  “Where is Dean?” Rachel asked.

  Grey turned, his lips set in a thin, somber line. “He and the boys are changing. They are going to wait in the woods to see if I can get these men on their way without a fight. If I can’t, they will already be wolves, and we will hopefully have the element of surprise on our side.” He kissed Morgan fiercely and squeezed her arm. “Stay put. We’ll come get you when it’s done.”

  He had said “we,” not “I.” He wasn’t making her any promises.

  Grey shoved Wade’s big medical box in the misshapen bed of the injured truck and drove away. The Chevy grew smaller and smaller until it faded into the woods. Her heart hammered like a death march, and the sinking feeling in her stomach became quicksand. Her wolf howled that she’d never see her mate again.

  “We have to do something,” she said as she came back into the house.

  Rachel shrugged miserably. “What can we do? They told us to stay here. And it’s not like we can fight them. We would be sitting targets.”

  “Not Morgan.” Marissa had been quiet, and when she spoke up her eyes cast an eerie light gray. “I don’t think they would hurt Morgan because she is the prize, right?”

  “Okay, but what could she do to change the outcome?”

  Morgan’s throat filled with a long stifled admission. “I can fight.”

  “It’s too dangerous,” Rachel said. “Think about Lana.”

  “I am! What kind of mother would I be if I show her it is okay to let everyone else fight my battles? If I just sit back and never defend myself while others get hurt or killed because of me. Rachel, Dean is out there, and you know Grey won’t be able to talk them down. There are at least twelve wolves at the cabin waiting for a fight while there are only seven of our wolves. This can’t be the last time I see him. There has to be more than a couple of days of happiness for us. We have to do something!”

  Rachel stared at the wall, rubbing her cheek absently against her shoulder. She jerked her head back to Morgan. “Follow me.” She ran up the stairs to her and Dean’s bedroom. In her closet, she tore a bunch of clothes off the rack and tossed them carelessly to the carpet. In the back, she hit a latch hidden behind a shelf, and the panel clicked open. Once she moved it out of the way, an entire wall of weapons, mainly silver in nature, gleamed in a secret armory.

  “Whoa,” Marissa said on an exhale. “I didn’t know you guys had all of this stuff up here.”

  “Nobody does except for Wade. This is mine.” Rachel grabbed a crossbow and a quiver of silver tipped arrows. “If I can get up a tree I can pick them off and they won’t be able to climb up after me. It will take me time so someone will have to cover me and make sure no one sees us.”

  “I’ll do that,” Marissa said, picking up a pair of silver swords. “I’m not going to be much good in a fight, but I used to play baseball. I could at least swing a sword I think.”

  “I’ve been fighting and training since I was little,” Morgan admitted quietly.

  Two sets of lightened eyes stared at her as if she had sprouted green beans out of her face. Why did she feel embarrassed? Her resurrected childhood insecurities were probably to blame.

  “Look, when all of the little girls in my class wanted to be in ballet together, I wanted to take karate. I was doing weapons training by the time I was in junior high, but this past year I wanted to forget form and do some boxing instead.” She picked up a knife set. “These are mine.” One was small and easy to maneuver, while the other was larger and heavier with a curved blade for slicing. It was as if they were made for her hands. She touched the blade lightly and pulled a sizzling finger back. Silver did that to werewolves. Satisfied, she turned back to Rachel. “Okay, how do we get there? Truck is too obvious, and we can’t Change to run there and still carry the weapons.”

  “We have four-wheelers in the barn,” Rachel said, frowning at the weapons cache. “We can stop them a ways off and run the rest of the way to stay quiet.”

  Now that was a plan she could get on board with. No more waiting around for the boys to come back, or not. “Let’s go. We don’t have time to waste.”

  The wind whipped Morgan’s hair as she ran for the barn. Thank God, Lana was still with Mom and didn’t have to witness what was about to happen. She threw the door open, and Rachel turned on the first four-wheeler. Marissa hopped on while Rachel started the other. Morgan secured the weapons on the front storage rack with ready bungee cords and hopped on behind Marissa. No sooner was she in place than Marissa floored it and skidded out of the barn, throwing gravel and mulch out beside them. The little engines were loud, but Morgan could still hear fighting and snarling in the distance. The pack war had already started.

  Three hundred yards from the cabin, they skidded to a stop. Marissa and Rachel parked the ATVs
and unfastened the weapons.

  Times like this, she wished she was a better werewolf. Her shifts were slow and painful, and they were so much worse when she was stressed out. If she tried to turn now, she’d miss the fight completely. With a frustrated growl, she dismounted and grabbed her blades.

  Though they were quiet as wolves, she was listening for them to follow. Rachel and Marissa’s soft footfall sounded against the dry leaves behind her. The smell of adrenaline only spurred her forward.

  They were close. “How many yards do you need?” she asked Rachel.

  “I’m accurate at forty,” Rachel whispered back.

  “Good.”

  They would have to find a tree right near the edge of the clearing. When she crept around to the front of the house, the sheer noise and chaos from the fighting stopped her in her tracks. Pack wars were bloody and brutal events.

  Morgan pointed to a good tree with a low branch that Rachel and Marissa could take a handhold on. She was panicked and ready to join the fray, but she stayed to hand Rachel the crossbow when she was a few branches up while Marissa stood as lookout. Rachel was finally in position.

  Marissa gasped. “Uh, guys,” she said in a tiny frightened voice.

  An unfamiliar, gray-colored wolf was running straight for them with his teeth bared. Marissa was a frozen statue with swords hanging limply at her sides. As the wolf launched himself at Marissa, Morgan bolted in front of her and held up the larger knife. Her muscles tensed as she thrust it against the wolf’s momentum. His throat propelled down the blade. Warm blood sprayed across her face, and Marissa squeaked as the weight of the animal pushed Morgan back into her. They hit the tree with an unforgiving thud.