Collared by Wolves [The Haunt of the Wolves 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (10 page)

“It’s Lance’s pack who has her.”

That wasn’t something he was expecting, and Griff swore volubly, running a hand through his hair. He was familiar with this particular wolf and knew he was trouble. Big trouble.

“Why would he take Natasha?” But as soon as that left his mouth, he knew why, and groaned inwardly. Lance had a reputation of taking things further outside the club even more than he did within. Griff had seen, in the past, Lance and several of this pack take part in a group sex with one of the submissives. In fact it had been close to a gang bang—of the violent kind—before they had been stopped by the owner of The Haunt.

Although he, himself, enjoyed rough sex, this had sickened him. He always made sure that the submissive he was with was enjoying herself. What Lance did was depraved and often involved sharp implements intended to mark permanently. He had tried to get Griff to join his pack, or take part in their group sessions, but there was no way Griff was bowing down to another alpha, apart from the fact that he just didn’t like him and his methods. Unfortunately his rejection of Lance’s offer hadn’t gone down well, and the two spat insults at each other every time they met.

“Callum!” Max sat back on his heels, startled by the latest scent he had smelled.

Ford urgently gripped the arms of the tracker. “What? What’s wrong?”

Griff gritted his teeth. If Callum had joined Lance’s pack, he would personally rend him limb from limb, the stupid boy.

But the look on Max’s face worried him. It was more than his friend being involved in the abduction of the girl.

“He’s hurt. I can smell his blood.”

Ford started to howl, and Griff felt like joining him.

He heard their voices as he was coming to. He was lying on the ground and could feel stones digging into his back. He tried to move and groaned at the pain that shot through his body.

His head pounded as his body juddered, and he closed his eyes, unable to stand the blurry distortion and the sickness that ensued.

“Cal. Callum!”

Fingers gripped his shoulders and shook him. He gritted his teeth at the agony this caused. His voice was croaky when he cried out, “Stop shaking me, for crying out loud!”

The movement stilled, but the hands still held him tightly. “Thank God. We were worried about you.”

Opening his eyes again, Callum found his vision was clearer this time. He looked up and saw Ford leaning over him, the concern evident in his eyes and his words.

Max crouched down on the other side and braced an arm around his back to help him sit up. Callum took advantage of the assistance, but soon regretted it immediately.

“Oh Christ. That hurts!” He panted as pain shot through his head—and his hands and his legs and his body.

Callum had gone out of the building via an emergency back entrance a little while ago, not wanting to stay in the same room as Griff. He had been fuming and needed somewhere to cool off before he did something he regretted.

His intention had been to get in his car and drive to the nearest human bar for a drink, needing to get away from all sight of his fellow werewolves, but as he had rounded the side of the building, his plans were forgotten instantly when he saw another pack grab hold of Tasha. Without a lucid thought, Callum had raced into the thick of them.

No, it hadn’t been sensible, just him against a whole pack, but that was him all over. He was always a react-first type of guy.

Of course, it would have made more sense to go inside and alert everyone there to what was happening outside. That was his problem. He never thought, and for his efforts, they had rounded on him. He had fought to get through to Tasha as she thrashed in their hold, clearly wanting to get away from them. His anxiety for her had given him strength, and he clawed several of the men, but there were just too many. As they pummeled him with blows beating him to the ground, he was forced to wrap his arms around his head to protect himself.

Callum had been in many fights in his life. He was one of those people who were always in the thick of things. But never before had he tried to fight so many by himself. And neither had he underestimated the strength of his opposition. It was over in a few moments, although at the time it had felt like hours.

As he lay there panting and moaning in pain, the echo of Tasha’s whimpers as they threw her into their van shook him deeply. He had never been so helpless in his life, not even when an alpha like Griff came in and took away the woman they wanted. At least then he hadn’t started to feel a connection to Tasha, but something had happened to him tonight. Something he felt when he had stroked her body, watching her suck Max, something akin to touching his mate.

Recollections flooded back into him as his mind began to clear. Bile came into his throat, and he choked on the hot fluid.

“Easy, man. Turn him on his side.”

Callum frowned as he was moved, not placing the third voice at first, and then he tensed when he realized it was Griff. A confusion came over him. If Griff was here, then he wasn’t involved with those who had taken her.

He then became conscious that he had seen Lance with the pack and swore to himself. No, Griff wouldn’t be involved with that one. But that made it even worse, the thought of Tasha in the hands of that particular group who were known for their violence and cruelty.

“I’m all right.” He slapped the hands away, angry at himself for letting others get hold of his mate, but Griff couldn’t be pushed that easily, and Callum was gripped firmly.

“Stop it. I’m trying to assess your injuries. It’s a good thing werewolves heal quickly. I don’t think you have any broken bones, just some nasty bruises and gashes, particularly that one on your leg, and you’ll have a hell of a headache, I’m guessing. Of course if I were an omega bitch, I’d lick the wounds clean as there is nothing better than saliva to heal a wound.”

Callum glared up at the alpha who was grinning down at him. “You do that and you’re a dead wolf.”

The other man chuckled as he stood up, having finished his assessment. Callum followed suit with the help of Ford and Max, albeit with some groaning. He trembled a moment as he rose, but soon managed to stand unaided, even though it took a lot of effort.

Then the three betas stood facing the one alpha in what can only be called a standoff until Callum suddenly remembered what had happened, and he grabbed Ford’s arm urgently.

“Tasha. They’ve taken her. We must do something.”

Griff stepped forward then and grabbed him by the shoulders. “We know that already, but did you see where they took her?”

Pushing Griff away, Callum turned to Ford as was his normal practice. He would never report to
that
man. “It was Lance and his brood. They put her in a van. It was black, I think. I believe it belongs to one of Lance’s betas, Darren.” His anxiety was clear in his voice.

Ford ran a calming hand over his shoulder. “Okay. But do you know where they’ve gone? Did they say anything that could help us find her?”

Callum bent his head as he tried to think. He slapped his forehead. All he could remember were Tasha’s cries and the sounds of an engine roaring to life taking her away. He shook his head desperately. “No, nothing. Oh, God. What are they going to do to her?”

“Guess.”

He rounded on Griff as that comment was vehemently spat out, but Max hauled him back, not particularly caring about his wounds, and Callum yelped. Max eased his grip and declared, “Not Griff. He didn’t do it. He’s with us. He wants her safe, too.”

Snarling at the man who had thwarted them earlier, Callum questioned the alpha. “How do you know what they’re going to do to her?”

Griff placed his hands on his hips and gave him a look of disgust. “If I was involved with those lunatics, would I be here now?”

Callum felt his face turn slightly red. He clearly wasn’t thinking quickly. The blow to his head was affecting him, but he wasn’t prepared to apologize. Not to
him
of all people. He couldn’t help the retort that then came out of his mouth. “Oh, and haven’t you done similar things to girls in the past?”

The alpha moved so quickly that he had hold of his shirt in his fists before Callum knew he had even moved.
Christ!
Their faces were inches apart, and he could taste the vodka on Griff’s breath that he had obviously been drinking earlier.

Griff’s fangs dropped as he snarled at Callum. His voice had dropped a pitch. “Listen carefully, little wolf. I might have given some rough sex to some girls in the past, but only to those that wanted it. I have never taken anyone who was reluctant or forced anyone to do something they didn’t want to do. Nor will I ever. The only thing I am guilty of is being an alpha wolf who likes his wolf side too much, and that sometimes frightens the women, even those that profess to liking some clawing.”

He shook Callum as if to make the point, and he had to clutch at the thick wrists of the other man to stop him choking. “Understand me, beta?”

“Yessss.” At least, Callum tried to say yes, but it came out as a gurgle until the alpha loosened his grip slightly. “I hear you.” He growled angrily, still unsure how Griff had got him in this hold so easily. “Now let me go.”

Griff held him a moment longer, his amber eyes tightening as he growled a final warning before flinging him away disdainfully. He moved back to stand on his own again away from their group, as if by consorting with them he might become tainted.

Ford staggered back a pace as Callum barreled into him, but he managed to hold the two of them upright. Pushing himself off his friend, Callum watched as Griff turned his back and started walking away with the arrogance of an alpha. Only one of that status would dare do that. It was inherent in a wolf to watch for potential enemies. Callum had learned at a young age to back off when a wolf tensed, his hackles rose, or his fangs or claws appeared. Sometimes it was in the eyes.

But this time he wasn’t going to back down, and snarling, he bent ready to pounce. Injuries or no injuries, he would kill the bastard before he let him touch him again. A red haze came over his vision as he let his fangs release.

“Guys, will you stop it. There’s something else.”

The urgency in Max’s voice made them all turn instantly toward him, arrested in their movement. If it hadn’t been so vital, he would have laughed at Callum’s flinch as his friend straightened up reluctantly. He knew what Cal had been about to do.

“What is it?” Max expected Ford to be the one to ask him to explain himself, but he’d forgotten Griff’s alpha status.

He acceded to Griff’s superiority, but was disinclined to impart this information to him. Despite his superior rank, he was still not one of their pack, so Max looked at Ford instead as he admitted, “There’s another scent I detected back there. Something I don’t like.” He stopped, wondering exactly how to tell them his innermost fears.

Griff let out a growl of warning. Max knew he had to spit it out.

Even so he still hesitated for a moment. “It was the smell of male arousal. Lance wants to have sex with her, not just play rough.”

A look of fear came over the faces of all three in front of him, even the alpha. There had been a few instances lately of packs taking omegas for gang bangs, although no one knew who the culprits were. In other words, forced sex. And those girls, omegas or not, had been badly traumatized. It was one thing to take part in group sex, but this was something entirely different.

Without submission to a particular alpha or pack giving her some protection, Natasha would be regarded as fair game. In fact, the perpetrators would probably think she was lower than an omega, and they may even kill her in the process, not worried about retribution. A shiver of dread went through Max.

Griff stormed around the car park swearing angrily, finally stopping near the porch that surrounded the building. The violent punch he gave the wooden beam made Max wince.

“Hell and damnation. But where will they have taken her? Do any of you know?” He turned to look directly at Max. “Can you track them even though they are in a vehicle?” The immediate hope that was in Griff’s eyes died as Max shook his head, knowing it was impossible.

“Actually he can.”

Max started as Griff swiveled his head in astonishment to stare at Callum, who was grinning, clearly pleased to have one up on the alpha.

Ford stepped forward between the two to stop any further confrontation, gripping Callum’s shoulder roughly. “Max has an extraordinary sense of smell, but, Cal, even that is beyond anything he’s done before, and you know it.”

Callum stared over at Max, urging him not to prove him wrong, and Max groaned. He really didn’t need this now. He was having enough problems coping with the fact that the woman who he was beginning to have strong feelings for was in the hands of other werewolves. He amended that, the woman for whom all of them, even Griff, was experiencing deep emotions.

He then closed his eyes, and taking a deep breath, he delved deep inside himself to find the “place,” the part of him that gave him this ability. Ignoring the others, he worked to shut out all the noise. The sounds of Callum quietly grimacing as his wounds bothered him, Ford’s heavy breathing as his anxiety mounted, even Griff’s shuffle as he impatiently shifted on his feet.