Blackwing Wolf (Kane's Mountains Book 2)(23)

       
           



       

Somewhere in their history, wolves had separated themselves from other  shifters and began culling their submissives. And without people to  protect, their wolves had gone mad with bloodlust that, honestly,  werewolves didn't put much effort into controlling.

And Axton was the most dangerous of all.

Oh, Dustin had grown up with him. He'd watched him mature from a  rambunctious pup to a heartless alpha who functioned best with blood on  his hands.

It wasn't as if Dustin had been ignoring the danger. On the contrary,  he'd been watching Emma like a hawk. Stalking her like Beast had stalked  him, but not for the same reasons. He was on a mission to keep her safe  no matter the cost. Because if Emma didn't exist in this world, it was  nothing but a dark and empty place. Like Axton's soul.

Dustin was going to die tonight.

He ran his hands through his hair and rested his elbows on his knees. He  was sitting on the foot of his bed in the motel room. He'd been given  one job by his pack, one that could've saved his brother-vengeance. And  he couldn't do it. Not anymore. Somewhere along the way, he'd grown this  bond with the Blackwings and sewn his soul to Emma. Axton had called  him a grenade. His brother had told him he would destroy the Blackwings,  and therefore the Bloodrunners, from the inside out. Axton said he  would tell him when to pull the pin, but now it was his pack who would  lose out.

Dustin was nobody's grenade.

He would die before he hurt the people he'd grown to care about in  Kane's Mountains. He'd die a thousand deaths before he hurt Emma.

She was confused. He'd put on the show for the rest of the night after  he'd given her the Morning Glory seeds. He'd joked and annoyed the shit  out of the Blackwings. God, he wanted a few more days with her, and with  his new friends. Friends? Werewolves didn't have fucking friends. They  had pack. This crew shit had messed with his head so thoroughly he  didn't understand where he belonged anymore. Where he fit. Maybe he fit  nowhere. Perhaps he'd always fit nowhere.

You fit with her.

His wolf was a wise one. He'd always had a level head for a monster.  Dustin wanted to scream and trash the hotel room. He wanted to rip up  the mattress, claw at the walls, overturn the furniture, ruin this room  as his last act. But a flash of Emma's journal flickered through his  mind. It was the picture of him striding for her, desperation to hold  her written all over his face. I know you're still good.

His last few hours should be a gift for Emma. She didn't realize it yet,  but she would. Emma deserved so much better than him. What was the  point of feeding the anger and trashing the room as his last defiant  act? It wasn't fair he'd met her so close to the end or he'd gotten a  glimpse of a happy life with the Blackwing Crew before he got his throat  ripped out for real this time. But then again, life wasn't fair.

He was going to miss everything. Emma turning vamp, her coming into her  own power, the Blackwings solidifying into one badass, albeit fucked-up,  crew. He would miss holding Emma every night and being there when she  cried. He would miss hearing her sing. He would miss her big green eyes  looking up at him like he was worth a damn. Her little heart-shaped  birthmark on the inside of her elbow, the way she shifted her weight  when she was flattered by something he'd said, how cute her ears were,  even when she had the aids in. Her blushes, tits, wit, strength, curves,  happy smiles, sad smiles, hair blowing in her face when the breeze hit  her just right, her in firefly woods, her graceful hands as she signed  to cuss him out or tell him she loved him.

He was going to miss her love.

Fuck. Dustin swallowed the howl of agony that clawed up the back of his  throat and forced himself to stand. He pulled the phone from his back  pocket as it vibrated again. "What?" he snarled out.

"Pack meeting, asshole," Jace said. "Bring the girl."

There was snarling in the background, the crazy kind.

"I don't have a girl."

"Fucking lie! If your voice didn't give you away, the fact you haven't  answered our damn calls for three days does. And if both of those  failed, we saw you fuck her, Dustin. Except it wasn't fucking, was it?  You were bonding to her. You were making love, like the stupid fuck you  are."

The snarling got louder. Axton was bad off. Jace was lucky to still be  breathing. Axton was the grenade, and his pin had been pulled the day  the Bloodrunner Dragon had destroyed the pack. Dustin used to hate  Harper Keller for what she'd done, but now he could see it clearly.  She'd defended that girl, Lexi. She'd avenged Axton and the pack's  attempted murder on her. Dustin would've done the same thing if the pack  hunted Emma, and he wasn't even her damn alpha. He'd wanted to save his  brother, but now he could see Axton had brought all of these  consequences on himself. He was the one who had gotten his pack burned  and eaten by the Bloodrunner Dragon. It wasn't Harper's fault. It was  Axton's.                       
       
           



       

"Dustin! I swear to God if you don't answer me now, we are coming to  that shitty motel and dragging your bitch out by her hair. Fucking meet  us. Two hours. Same spot we always meet. Just you and the girl, do you  understand me?"

Dustin stared at a framed watercolor of a man in a boat fishing all  alone on a pond. "Two hours, I'll be there." He ended the call.

There was no way in hell he would bring Emma to Axton. She was human and  fragile, his to protect. He didn't want her anywhere near when he went  to battle to earn his freedom from the Valdoro pack. He wanted her to  live. No, he needed it. She had to exist. He could go to hell easier if  he took the rest of the pack with him into the flames. If he died for a  reason-protecting Emma, the Blackwings, and the Bloodrunners-he could  stomach leaving that sliver of happiness that had settled into his life  over the last weeks.

Two hours.

Two hours to say goodbye.

When the alarm dinged on his phone, he looked down. 10:10. Time to make a wish, and he better make this one count.

I wish Emma happiness when I'm gone.





Chapter Fourteen




Emma dumped her pile of laundry onto the bed and began sorting through  it in search of T-shirts. She was weird and liked to fold one category  of clothes at a time. John at the front desk had been nice enough to  give her the keys to the laundry room, even though it was supposed to  close at eight. When she got into the trailer, she was going to make  John a big batch of brownies for always being so nice to her and the  other D-Teamers.

Outside, Beast, Logan, and Winter were sitting on the curb talking about  something way too low for her to hear. But she could hear Winter's  laughter every once in a while, which always brought a smile to Emma's  face. Right after folding her clothes, she was going to go out and join  them and hope Dustin was over whatever had been bothering him earlier.  She missed him. Sure, she'd just spent the evening with him, but he'd  worn his fake smile too much. Something was going on in that head of  his, something he didn't want her to see, and she hated it.

Any distance between them now hurt in really surprising ways.

Her eyes flashed to the pack of flower seeds on the nightstand. Had he  realized he'd bought her flowers she would never see bloom? As soon as  she turned vamp, the only thing she could hope to see was the closed  flower buds at night, in the darkness, where she would dwell. A part of  her wished she could be a shifter instead. Stupid ears and stupid  hearing impairment. Without it, the choice would've been easy. Her whole  life she'd prepared to be a vampire, but now she wanted to be like  Dustin. She wanted his bite, wanted to run the woods with him, wanted to  fit into the crew better, wanted to be Dustin's tiny pack within the  Blackwings.

She wanted to be like him so neither of them would ever feel different or alone again.

A knock sounded on the door, but before she could tell them to, "Hang  on, I'm coming," the door lock clicked and Dustin sauntered in,  pocketing the key card. He looked like sex on a stick in a tight black  sweater, dark jeans, and his hair flipped to the side. He'd probably  done that out of habit, but it looked mussed and sexy as hell. His blue  and green eyes collided with hers, and a smile stretched his face. It  was slight, but a real one this time. Relief.

She squeaked and ran to him, jumped up in his arms, and wrapped her legs around him. "I like you having a key."

He chuckled too low for her to hear, but she could feel the vibration  against her cheek. Easing back and giving her a view of his lips, he  asked, "You want some help?"

"With folding laundry?"

"Any chance for me to touch your panties, I'll take it. Even chores."

She laughed and rubbed her nose against his. God, that was so dorky, but his smile got a little bigger.