Terry Spear - Destiny of the Wolf

Destiny of the Wolf

by Terry Spear

Destiny of the Wolf

DESTINY of the WOLF

TERRY SPEAR

Copyright (c) 2009 by Terry Spear

Cover and internal design (c) 2009 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

Cover photos (c) Jupiter Images; Tashka, dreamstime.com; valuavitality, dreamstime.com; Corbis

Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois60567-4410

(630) 961-3900

FAX: (630) 961-2168

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Spear, Terry.

Destiny of the wolf / Terry Spear.

p. cm.

1. Werewolves--Fiction. I. Title.

PS3619.P373D66 2009

813'.6--dc22

2008037086

Printed and bound in the United States of America

QW 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

I dedicate Destiny of the Wolf to the memory of my father, who believed with all his heart I'd be published, but died of a fast-spreading cancer before that day came. He was a true hero, who survived numerous near-death catastrophes--from a dwindling sandbar in the incoming rush of tidal waters of the Duwamish River when he was four, to a typhoon in the Persian Gulf, to a sunken sailboat in the shark-infested Sea of Japan, and many, many more such adventures--yet always maintained a wonderful sense of humor and lived life to its fullest.

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 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Prologue

About the Author

WHY HAD LARISSA, HER LOVING SISTER, ENDED UP DEAD--here,

of al the godforsaken places in the States? Maybe that was the reason--off the beaten path, surrounded by wilderness, a place to hide from the harsh realities of the forced marriage, safe from Bruin's retaliation should he ever have located her. But she hadn't been safe. And now she was dead.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lelandi Wildhaven thought she saw her cousin, Ural, slink into the woods in his wolf form, but she had to be mistaken. He wouldn't be angry enough with her to shapeshift this close to Silver Town and risk alerting the gray lupus garou pack that a couple of reds had slipped into their territory.

Ignoring her gut instinct telling her this was a very bad idea, she pushed open the Silver Town Tavern's heavy door, the squealing of the rusty hinges jarring her taut nerves.

Five bearded men sitting at a table turned to stare at her, and at once she feared the worst--they saw straight through her disguise.

She shoved the faux eyeglasses back into place, hating the way they kept sliding down the bridge of her nose. The weather-beaten cowboy hat she'd picked up at a resale shop half swallowed her head, making her look like a little kid wearing her dad's Stetson.

Amber glass lights hanging from brass rods high above softly illuminated dark oak tables and a long, polished bar. Slow-spinning wooden fan blades circulated the air, impregnated with the smell of gray lupus garou. Her nerve endings prickled with fresh awareness. Dingy antique mirrors covering the back wall behind the bar bore mute witness to the goings-on in the place, as she suspected they had for decades. If they had captured all the images of the bar's existence what a story those mirrors could tell.

Another bearded man crouching beneath the lip of the bar suddenly stood to his ful six-foot-four height. The glass and dish towel he held nearly slipped from his grasp as his appraising glance took in every inch of her. His lips turned up at the corners slightly. Deep laugh lines were etched in his tanned skin and shaggy black hair extended to his shoulders, giving him the appearance of a rugged mountain man, unused to civilized trappings. What disturbed her most was that he was a gray, like the men drinking at the table. She'd anticipated it would be a human-run establishment frequented by lupus garous, like the bar back home.

What'll you have, miss? he asked, his voice warm and welcoming.

Expecting a chil y greeting--their kind didn't welcome strangers venturing into their midst, especially if she were human and this was an exclusively gray lupus garou tavern--she hesitated.

Miss?

Bottled water, please. She'd meant to sound tough, to match the look of the place. She'd intended to be someone different, with her red hair dyed black and the high-heeled boots giving the impression she stood taller, more like them. The blue contacts she wore hid her green eyes sufficiently, but she stil felt like Lelandi, triplet to Larissa, with barely any visible difference in appearance, except her eyes were greener and her hair more red and less golden than her sister's had been. Had her voice betrayed her?

The small smile on the bartender's face was more likely because she was a stranger who'd walked into a wolves' den without protection than because she'd given herself away. She cursed herself for not disguising her voice better, but the barkeep's warm demeanor gave her a false sense of security, which could be the death of her if she wasn't careful.

The bartender handed her a chilled bottle of water and tal green glass. New in town?

Just passing through, she said, paying for the water.

Sam's the name, miss. If you need anything, just holler.

Thanks. Hollering for a drink was definitely not her style.

She chose a table in the farthermost corner of the room, half-hidden in shadows. Although any of them could see in the dark as well as she could, this location would keep her out of the main flow of traffic. She hoped she'd seem inconspicuous, not worthy of anyone's scrutiny, and most of al , human.

Lelandi glanced at the door. According to her information, Darien Silver-

Larissa's widowed mate--should be here soon.

One of the men got up from his seat and gave Sam some cash. The man cast Lelandi a hint of a smile, then returned to his chair. Small for a gray, stocky, hair a bland brown, eyes amber, his clothes carrying a coating of dust, he had a soft, round baby face.

Looked sweet, a beta-wolf type. Smudges of dirt colored his cheeks, and he wiped them off with the back of his denim shirtsleeve. His eyes never straying from her, he smoothed out his raggedy hair and took another swig of his beer.

Sam joined Lelandi and handed her the cash. Joe Kelly paid for your drink, miss. He works at the silver mine, which explains his slightly rough appearance. But he cleans up good. Sam gave her a wink, and returned to the bar.

Should she turn down Joe's offer? On the other hand, if he was interested in her, maybe she could discover the truth quicker.

Thank you, she mouthed to Joe Kelly and his chest swelled.

The other guys started ribbing him in low voices. The tips of Joe's ears turned crimson.

Her stomach clenched with the notion that Larissa had had the audacity to mate with a gray, especially when she had a mate already. She'd said she wanted to find herself, and she did. Six feet under. Yet, Lelandi couldn't help feeling it was her own fault, that if she'd taken Larissa's place back home, or even run away with her, she might have kept her safe. But what about their parents? She couldn't have left them behind--not with her dad so incapacitated--but hell, she hadn't been able to protect them either. They had been murdered anyway.