Daddy’s Mail Order Mate (Twilight Meadows Wolves #3)

Chapter 19 - Thorn

“Ready to mobilize?”

There’s a curt chorus from the assembled crew of five agents as we pile out of the SUV and move into position along the quiet urban warehouse district.

I’m just grateful that this whole mess isn’t too far from home. The trip was just two hours of high speed car travel and a hop with one of the council’s private jets. It would have been a massive disruption if it’d been something significantly across the country or abroad that demanded a few days away. I only had the trial window with Gwen, so each day was invaluable. That is, I had the two weeks so long as Gwen didn’t decide to just leave. Not that I could blame her for considering leaving with how complicated our history was and how muddled things had become.

The forward team of three moves in silent tandem, each of our movements tactical and precise as the modern wolf warriors we’ve been cultivated into. My thoughts rotate into a flurried sequence flitting between head counts, sightlines, risk factors, and all the other variables of violence waiting to unfurl. I take point as we narrow in on the facility we know the rogues have gotten themselves holed up in; being on the front line of danger is one of my sworn duties in life. I would either be able to protect others properly, or I would spare others from suffering in my stead. And tonight, I also have a level of impatience running through me that makes me cagey to lead and get this handled as quickly as possible.

We stage ourselves stealthily near one of the entrances and I guard my squad as they start to lockpick the door. While I was very tempted to just go in hot and break a window to slip in through, it was safer and more efficient to run it quiet if we have the option.

“Movement in the window towards your location,” one of the rearguard agents informs us over our earpieces. “One male, unidentified. Possible contact ETA in six seconds.”

All of us are dead silent. The agent at the door lifts her left hand in a swift series of wordless gestures. Can clear. Prepare to go. We all respectively brace ourselves as there’s the final click of the lock and the sound of footsteps through the door our sharp werewolf senses are able to make out. I don’t hear haste or hesitation in the movements—we might be clear.

“Rogue passing you by unalerted. Recommend you get in there ASAP and get the drop on them.”

Nods are shared between us before we breach the building. The door thankfully isn’t too loud, but it’s loud enough that I see the man who’d passed by start to turn when I step in. But he’s not quick enough to react before I sprint and tackle him to the ground.

“ Shit—”

I silence him with a headlock and my superior size keeps him easily pinned. His hands scramble at my arm as he wheezes and chokes. The choked gurgling beneath me indicates that my target’s just on the edge of incapacitation if I maintain this level of force. A few seconds longer and he'll be at risk of brain injury. We need them alive and lucid for questioning, and the council preferred apprehended individuals to be left in decent enough health in most cases. It helped prevent them from being too resentful towards the council, which promoted rates of individual reform once whatever bad actor organization they were involved with dissolved. And with how important it was to try to retain as much of our population as possible, each wolf was invaluable to leave alive so long as they weren’t too great a risk to let roam as they wished.

I drive my knee into the rogue wolf, release the headlock, and let him crash to the ground on his stomach. The split second he tries to get his breath and bearings back is my window to crouch down and lock the silver chains around his wrists to keep him bound and stuck in his human form.

“Proceeding further in,” one of my comrades murmurs as he passes by.

I bring out a cloth gag and cinch it quickly into the rogue’s mouth to keep him quiet.

“Roger. What’s our logged headcount?”

“Twelve,” chimes another over my earpiece.

“Auxiliaries. Baird, continue observation. Vasquez, move in and start bagging in one minute unless informed otherwise,” I order.

“Yes sir.”

I stand and stride over the man writhing on the ground, gaze locked in on the back of my squadmate who's already advanced a good bit down the hall. And while I am honed and locked in for the danger ahead, I am far too accustomed to battle for some of my mind to not wander back to thoughts of Gwen.

If I don’t tell her the truth, she will inevitably suffer, and I know that I’ll lose her completely. Am I really willing to forsake her again? I’ve made so many sacrifices in the name of other people, but I know that as much as I’ve been convincing myself that I’m trying to protect her, I’m…

I’m just selfish and terrified of owning my past. So I need to decide what I’m more scared of: admitting the past or losing a future with her. But then gunfire cracks off ahead and I press myself into the nearest doorway. We were anticipating that they might be armed—I sigh, knowing already that this is going to be so much paperwork.

***

The road ahead is a streak of gray framed by flickering trees as I drive my SUV down the open highway. It's still early in the morning and this stretch is quiet enough that I can be a bit excessive with the gas pedal. My training for serving the council wound up including a rigorous tactical driving course as I expanded my duties over the years, so I feel competency and control even as the engine whines and the speedometer hovers on some questionably legal numbers. I flex my hand on wheel and feel the freshly regenerated skin over my knuckles go tenderly taut. They're still a bit pink on a few knuckles but it should fade out over the next hour or two. It's still a tad surreal for me to think about how long injuries last for humans compared to my kind.

A thought broaches my mind: I wonder if Rowan is going to have to deal with that when he's older.

I shake my head to focus back in—this is not the time to get lost in my long-term worries as a father. My priority right now is getting back to the house as soon as I can to stabilize things with Gwen. She hasn't contacted my phone as of yet, and in worry that I might wake her, I haven't called. But the not knowing has me mentally pacing, fretting over how things could be going wrong without me being there to prevent it.

What if I get back and she's all packed up and gone?

I grunt under my breath in self-directed anger to snap out of it, though I do spare a glance towards my phone. Perhaps serendipity decided to make another appearance in my life because at that very same moment, the screen brightens up with a notification.

Remus Security Systems Alert: Possible trespassing identified at 07:38. Silent house alarm activated.

Everything goes cold. It's only by sheer discipline that I keep the car navigating steadily down the highway despite the wave of shock trying to wash over me. There is the possibility that it’s a false alarm and that everything is fine… But I have never lived a life where things were innocent or easy. I know to anticipate the worst because I have seen it.

I jerk the clutch and grit my teeth. The SUV gets louder as I shift gears to push my car from skirting the legal limit to pushing its practical limit.

“Voice command.”

The digital dashboard chirps obediently.

“Call Gwen.”

I can't spare my eyes from driving much at these speeds even with the straightaway, so I stare deadlocked outside as the phone rings out over the car speakers. It almost immediately goes to voicemail.

“ Goddamn it. ”

Either her phone is dead or it's been turned off. Regardless of the exact circumstances, the ultimate result is that I can't reach her remotely. All the more reason for me to do whatever it takes to get home as swiftly as I can.

“End call.”

I lift my hand to my phone in its mounted holster on the dash and navigate to the security app as safely as I can to get the camera feeds up. And what I see floods the chill of dread away with molten fury. There are strangers pacing through my house, and both my son and Gwen are sleeping, entirely unaware.

“Call Eli.”

Thankfully I get an answer after a few rings.

“Morning Thorn.”

“Eli. I'm a few minutes out from my house and there are several men that have broken in. Will update you once I arrive but I may need backup.”

The Alpha's voice is sharp and serious when he replies, a fair contrast from the more relaxed tone he'd started the call with.

“I'll get some warriors on their way ASAP.”

I grunt affirmatively.

“Thorn, do you know who they are?”

“Can't identify them safely. I'm currently driving.”

“Makes sense—but no matter who they are, they certainly made a mistake. Not only are they trying their luck with you, they're going to get Elm Wood cracking down on them right after. They're going to regret it, Thorn. I promise.”

“They will.”

The remainder of the drive is torture on my nerves and sets my jaw aching with how fiercely I'm gritting my teeth. I sneak glances at the phone’s screen and try to parse the little glimpses of the camera feeds, and have to endure a slideshow of violence against my family while I'm too far away to help.

My wolf howls through me, rabid and cruel in its territorial spark. I know that I am going to kill today, and I will relish every drop of blood I spill in the defense of Gwen and my son. There's no effort to negotiate with myself on this front: both the man and the wolf agree on this point.

By the time I careen up to the front of the house, my engine is screaming hot in protest to being pushed this much. Several figures are in the middle of hustling down the front steps: one is carrying Rowan, two are carrying a limp red wolf, and several more are getting loaded into the white van loitering in my driveway.

Gravel drags noisily beneath my tires as I brake the car, and it's barely stopped by the time I launch out of it.

“Shit! It's him!”

“What?! He’s supposed to be gone for days!”

“Apparently not—MOVE!”

I do not have a human voice to threaten or reply to their panicked outbursts. I've already shifted the moment I leave the vehicle and barrel towards them with my fangs bared and a brutal growl ripping through the air. None of my senses are spared for recognizing who these men are, nor in this moment do I care. All that matters is that they harmed my people and invaded my territory, and I will deal with them in the way a wolf is meant to.

It has been so many years since I went properly berserk. There are times when I've grazed the feeling during dire circumstances. But not even when Paige was in danger a year ago did I dive back into this primal madness. Their screams rise over my pup’s cries and their blood joins the scent of my mate’s. I feel flesh and bone give way beneath my teeth and smell death like a heavy perfume in the air. I am nothing but the cruelty of the wild and nothing will stand in my way. The pains of my own injuries may as well be non-existent, just faint marks of sensation that my biology blocks out as white noise and nothing more. Because I do get hurt in the course of things, as wolves attempt to circle and pounce me, but even outnumbered and surrounded, they are nothing but meat that's yet to realize it’s dead.

The only opponent that stands out in the fog is the biggest; some pale, blue eyed creature that might have been daunting to a lesser specimen. He attempts to catch my vitals several times in the fray as his lackeys try to take me down, and each time I fend him off with unhinged ferocity. He is the last left standing, his maw and body stained with both of our blood, droplets of it sprinkling off his panting tongue as we circle one another.

He lurches towards my pup left writhing on the ground, clearly hoping to take him hostage. But that merely drives my instincts to the edge and just as his teeth might threaten over my young, my own latch around his neck and I rip and tear with lunatic zeal until every strand of that once immaculate white coat is stained scarlet.

The insanity only begins to recede once my adversary has been mutilated beyond recognition, and perhaps it would last longer if not for my son’s wailing. I lift my head, squinting through one eye, as the other is wedged shut and swollen from my exchanges with the white wolf. When I pad silently towards my boy, the haggard trace of a limp marks my stride—with the cocktail of adrenaline starting to fade out, my body forces me to feel its strain.

I shift to my human self when I get to him, and my bloodied hands take up the wiggling baby to cradle him to my bare chest.

“Shhshhshsh. It's okay. Daddy's here.”

The cries continue, but they at least start to subside a bit from that painfully sharp pitch when Rowan seems to realize he is being held and comforted by his father. My one-eyed stare moves out towards the slumped red wolf nearby.

Yellow-green eyes stare back at me from her bloodied face, and her jaw lulls open to whimper.

“ Gwen .”

Those eyes glaze and shut, and I scramble towards her.

“No, no no no no—”

I hold Rowan with one hand and use the other to feel for a pulse through Gwen's thick coat. And beneath my fingers I find one, weak and uncertain, but there. The relief that staggers through me is immense, and a wet sob leaves me, tears streaking down my bloodied face.

“Don't go, you can't go,” I urge her unconscious body in a teary whisper. My hand shakily pets her head, hoping that maybe her eyes will open to look at me again. “Hold on for me, doe. Please.”

I don't have time to be in these emotions. I can't sit in the terror, or let the sorrow and guilt slow me. Both of them are depending on me to take care of them. My first concern is their health at this moment, now that the immediate danger's subsided. I sway unsteadily when I stand at first, but then I force myself rigid and grit through every step to get my son carried inside first. What ordered thought I can muster right now focuses on the linear path of what needs to be handled to get things stabilized efficiently.

The time for the rest will have to come after the work is done; emotions are a luxury in this world. And for their sake, I hope that this was all of the poor souls involved in whatever harebrained scheme this was. If not, the rampage in store is going to make it very clear why I am to be feared.