Wolves' Bane (The Order of the Wolf, #3)

Lance lay sprawled on the floor, panting as he regained the air that Cal had punched out of him. He made no attempt to rise and comfort me again.

Cal was gone. Deep down in my new Huntress consciousness, I knew that if he did what he said, if he broke the bond, a part of me would die inside. Would I lose my will to live? No, no man was worth that. But the thumping of my heart would change because there’d be a hole and nothing would ever fill it again. The idea of it brought fresh tears to my eyes, mourning the loss of something I’d just discovered in that moment. I cared for him, with all of his flaws and despite the fact that he was acting like a total asshole. A fa?ade that didn’t hide the fact that there was a man in there who was honorable, courageous and who cared about me. It also didn’t hide the fact that I knew he wasn’t being truthful. My instincts screamed every time he rejected me, not only because it worked against our bond but also because I just didn’t believe it was true. When he said hateful or hurtful things, he was lying, maybe to himself, definitely to me. But none of that mattered now. What could have been, I would never know because I’d lost him.

“What have I done?” I cried as I slumped to the side.

What have I done?





Chapter Twenty-Eight





The Right Girl


He’d been away for a week and it had been the most miserable week of his life. He’d been determined to end his torment the second he got into the shitty little town of Redwood, known for its loose women and ample booze. Both of which he needed, only one of which he’d so far partaken in.

For the last three nights Cal had trolled the bar for a willing partner, and each night he’d found one. Eager women who all but jumped into his lap the moment he showed the least bit of interest. None of them had bothered him about getting to know them or making a commitment. None of them wanted anything more than his dick. Every night he’d taken one of them home, determined to get it over with, to break the bond that gnawed at him constantly. The bond that was actually screaming at him to go back to Morgan and fix things. The bond that tormented him with such a feeling of overwhelming sadness that he had to wonder what state he’d left Morgan in. But he was resolved to do this so that she could be free, just as she wanted.

Besides, what could he offer her anyway? So far, all he’d managed to do was drive her away, reject her repeatedly. No, the bond needed to be broken so that Morgan wouldn’t be condemned to any emotional binding to him. Maybe, if she survived the battle with Lazarus, she would go on to find someone who deserved her. Unlike Cal, who didn’t deserve shit.

Depressing thoughts of loss threatened to drown him and once again derail his mission. What he needed was to shove that gnawing ache aside and do what he came here to do, what he’d attempted to do many times over already. The town had plenty to offer.

Although each woman he’d taken home was beautiful in her own way—and very, very ready for him—Cal simply could not do it. His body would not react to the thought of another woman’s hands or mouth on his skin, even the thought had him wanting to vomit.

He clenched his jaw as he swirled the beer in his glass, his resolve to break the bond ebbing away with every moment. He couldn’t understand how his father had done it. How could he have betrayed Cal’s mother so easily when he was having such a bloody hard time? Sadly, it made Cal feel inadequate in some way, like his father had set a macabre kind of standard for him to meet and he was failing.

“You ready for another one, cowboy, or are you just going to nurse that one for another hour?”

He glanced up from his brooding. A new bartender had taken over, and this one was tall, curvy and definitely more appealing than the last.

“I’ve seen you here for the past few nights,” she said. “You’ve got the girls in a tizzy.”

She was smiling at him, her green eyes sparkling with mirth as she set a new beer down on the coaster in front of him. Her brown hair was pulled into a ponytail that bounced with her movements. His eyes were riveted to her as he swept her body—or what he could see of her body. Large breasts, small waist, nice ass. For the first time since he left Morgan, his cock stirred to life.

He shoved away the sudden stab of betrayal and smiled back. “Thanks for the beer,” Cal said as he downed the last of his old beer then set the glass on the bar. He wrapped his hand around the fresh brew, determined to numb any lingering doubts.

After filling a few more drinks for the other men at the bar, she returned. “No problem. You looked lost in some serious thoughts. Figured you needed something cool and fresh.”

“My name is Cal.” He extended his hand.