Forbidden Hope: A Werewolf Wars Prequel Novella Read online

  Emily shook her head. It hurt sure, but she would live. She wrapped her hands around Daniel’s arm. “You have to do something, Daniel. Dev challenged dad. You can’t let him get hurt.”

  “Em-”

  “I know you two don’t get along, but he’s your brother, Daniel. He’s our big brother, and he was defending me,” she yelled. Devon couldn’t get hurt because of her defiance.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Daniel sighed, hugging her. “Whatever happens, stay here. Do you hear me?”

  “Please don’t let anything happen to him,” she pleaded, her bottom lip quivering.

  “Stay here,” Daniel asserted.

  Emily watched as Daniel stormed off. Tears pricked her eyes and she bit her lip in a vain attempt to keep her emotions at bay. What have I done?

  Chapter Seven

  Emily paced back and forth as she chewed on her fingernails. It had been nearly an hour since the incident downstairs, and she still didn’t know Devon’s fate. The altercation had been taken outside; aside from that, the rest was a mystery. Worry consumed her as nausea rolled in her belly. Was her brother okay? What had happened? Unanswered questions raced through her mind. She needed to know Devon’s fate. Her brother had to be okay. A distraction would be nice right about now.

  Her eyes caught her reflection in the mirror as she passed by. Tiny nicks covered her face. Dried blood was plastered to her forehead and matted into her hair. Shards of glass were embedded in her ponytail. She was a mess. A mess her father had created. No, he was no longer her father. Father’s didn’t do this to their children.

  Emily closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She walked to her dresser and carefully plucked the sharp pieces out of her hair. When she finished, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. As she took inventory of her injuries, the pain started to set in. Her head throbbed, a heavy pressure building at the base of her head. A burning sensation shot through her right leg, and she limped to her bed to check if glass was stuck in her flesh too.

  Emily was halfway to her bed when footsteps clomped up the stairs. She hobbled quickly to her bedroom door and peeked outside. Two heads rounded the staircase. Emily held her breath, watching as Daniel supported Devon. Her heart leapt into her throat and she swallowed painfully. Devon would never let Daniel help him—not unless he really needed it. But he was alive. She let out a relieved breath as she let that news sink in. Devon was okay. Her father’s fate was undetermined, but at this point, she no longer cared. Her brother was her only concern.

  She peered further out into the hall, trying to get a better look. The scent of copper hit her hard and she stifled a gasp, realizing that it was mostly Devon’s blood. Devon’s shirt was torn and blood soaked.

  Another set of footsteps padded up behind them and Emily quickly ducked back into her room. She shut the door and stumbled to her bed, easing herself onto the plush mattress. A strangled sob forced its way up her throat as a glass shard dug further into her thigh. Her hands shook as she grasped onto the edges and plucked it free.

  Three crisp knocks resounded off her door. “Emily? May I come in?” her mother’s voice called.

  Emily dropped the bloodied shard into the trash bin. “I guess,” she mumbled.

  The knob twisted and the door squeaked open. Claire walked in, her hazel eyes softening as she shut the door. “Oh, Emily,” she whispered.

  “It’s not that bad,” she lied.

  The bed creaked, dipping down as her mother sat down. “Your father is a violent man,” she started. She inhaled sharply and let it out. “I never imagined he would do this to you—to any of you.”

  “Are you going to stop him?” Emily asked, blinking up to glare at her mother. “Or are you going to sit there and do nothing like you did when Fernando Juarez was here.”

  Claire flinched and looked away. “I don’t expect you to understand. All I ask is that you have trust in me.”

  “No,” Emily hissed. She shot up from the bed.

  “Devon could have died tonight,” Claire blurted, her voice cracking. “Your brother and Emmett already hate each other. If I hadn’t of been here, Devon would be dead.”

  Emily swallowed hard and balled her fists at her side. “I didn’t mean for him to get involved. But at least someone is willing to stand up against Emmett’s lunacy.”

  Her mother stood and placed her hands on Emily’s shoulders lightly. “The situation is far more grave than you could even imagine. The Gulf Packs aren’t understanding. When they approach you, you either join them or die. Playing along with their rules isn’t an option for the moment. We don’t have the resources. I’ve seen what they are capable of.”

  Emily blinked as she processed her mother’s words. How had she seen what they are capable of, she wondered. She gasped as a horrifying realization dawned on her.

  “Marcus’ pack?” Emily whispered. Her heart clenched at the thought of having to live with the man who had murdered Marcus’ family.

  “I’m not sure about his pack. But the Frasers in Montana and the Smith’s in Idaho didn’t have any female wolves, and their packs are gone.”

  “Oh,” Emily whispered. “Did dad even try to negotiate with them?” she wondered.

  Claire shook her head. “That’s not why I’m telling you this, Emily. I think your father is actually enjoying this. He’s certainly twisted enough to.”

  Emily frowned, a shiver coursing through her at the somber tone her mother’s voice had taken.

  “Then why are you telling me this?” she asked, holding her breath.

  “Because you need to know the severity of the situation. One wrong move, Emily, and a war will be started. People will die.”

  “What am I supposed to do? How can I live like that?” She knew Marcus had a plan in place. But after the events of tonight, would they still be able to see it through? She couldn’t live like that—wouldn’t live like that. The thought of going to New Mexico made her skin crawl. It wasn’t an option. There had to be some other way. Please let there be another way.

  Claire shushed her, pulling her into a hug. “Have trust in me. Can you do that?”

  Emily gritted her teeth, her eyes staring vacantly at the light purple wall opposite her. She nodded. A lump formed in her throat at the lie, but she didn’t trust her mother—not anymore. The thought devastated her. At one time, she would have trusted anything her mother said. Parents were supposed to protect their children and her mother was letting her down. Maybe her intentions were in the right place but it was too little too late.

  “Good.” Claire pulled back and placed a gentle kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “Everything is going to be okay.” She patted her cheek and smoothed her hand over Emily’s cheek. Their eyes met, and gazes held for a long moment. Tears shone in Claire’s eyes and she sniffled. Her mother placed another kiss to her temple and stood up, leaving the room.

  Emily closed her eyes and took in a deep breath as angry tears burned her eyes and slid down her cheeks. How can she do this to me? I need to get out of here.

  She jumped as her door swung open and in walked Devon, locking the door behind him. He had a few medical supplies in his hand.

  “God, Em. Look at you,” he growled. He dropped the gauze and bandages on her dresser and rushed toward her. His callused hands gently grabbed her cheeks as he assessed the damage. He ground his teeth together as he frowned at her injuries.

  “Me?” she squeaked. “What about you.” Blood covered his shirt and jeans, while bruises and gashes littered his face. He looked like something out of a horror movie.

  “I’m okay. Not the first time I’ve taken a beating. But you...”

  Her bottom lip quivered. “It's not my first time either. I’ll be okay.”

  Devon’s face crumpled at her admission and he pulled her into a hug.

  “I’m not going to let him hurt you again, Em.”

  “When do we—”

  Devon pulled back and placed a hand over her mouth. “Wait,” he mouth
ed, tapping a finger on his ear. He walked to her black radio and turned it on, upping the volume with a twist of the dial. He picked up some wipes and returned to the bed.

  “Why didn’t you tell me what Emmett was really planning?” Devon asked as he gently wiped at one of the gashes on her forehead. “It’s true isn’t it, about passing you from grandson to grandson.”

  Emily nodded and looked down at the floor. “I knew it would make things worse. I was scared—I’m still terrified someone is going to get killed. He threatened Marcus’ life.”

  “No one is going to get hurt. We’re leaving tonight.”

  “We are?” she asked, her heart lurching in her chest. “You’re hurt.”

  “I’ll be fine. I need to shift and get cleaned up. Emmett’s injured. Security is light. We leave tonight while we still can.” Devon walked to her bedroom window and peered out of the purple curtains. “Do you think you can manage climbing down the tree?”

  She wrung her fingers together as she joined him at the window. “Yes,” she said with more gusto than she thought possible.

  “Good. We’ll be leaving at two a.m. Most everyone should be sleeping. Climb down the tree and go to the large oak in the middle of the yard—the one by the drive. I’ll let Marcus and Vincent know. We should have no problems getting out unnoticed. It’s you I’m worried about.”

  “I can do it,” she answered confidently. “Are you ready, though?”

  Emily knew Devon was tough, but he looked like he was hurting. She had no idea how bad the fight had been, but she smelled his blood on the air—a lot of blood.

  Devon ran a hand through his hair, grimacing slightly with the movement. “I would have liked to finalize things and leave tomorrow, but we have a window and we need to take it,” he said with certainty.

  “And you’re sure you’re alright?” she asked worriedly, appraising him. The last thing she wanted was for him to have permanent damage because he pushed himself too hard while severely injured.

  “I’ll be good as new next time you see me. Let’s keep this between ourselves, please. I don’t need Marcus or Vincent worrying over me too.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, taking in the way his tattered and soiled clothes barely covered his body.

  “Don’t be. This isn’t your fault.” Devon placed his hands on her shoulders. “We are leaving tonight and starting a new life. The world out there is different than how it is here. We are going to do this my way, which means you need to follow my lead. We might have to play it safe for a while, but once things are safe, I promise you your freedom.”

  “I trust you.”

  “I need to go get ready. Be careful. I’ll see you in a few hours.” Devon patted her shoulder before gathering his medical supplies and seeing himself out.

  Emily glanced at the clock on her wall. A little less than two hours and they would be making a run for it. Everything is going to be okay. It has to be. If they got caught, Marcus and Dev were dead for sure, while she and Vincent would be punished severely. What am I getting into? Can I really put their lives in danger? She sat down on her bed and let out a long sigh. I don’t have any other choice.

  ***

  Emily stared absently into the mirror. The gashes were gone—she’d wiped away the blood and grime—but she would never forget.

  She balled her fists at her sides and inhaled deeply. You can do this, Em. Blinking at her reflection, she swallowed the lump in her throat. Emily padded out to her room and picked up her small messenger bag.

  Her eyes drifted around her room as she contemplated what she wanted to take with her. It wouldn’t be much. Absently, she picked up a picture of her and her three brothers. It was several years old, but one of the only pictures of all four of them together. She picked up another photo of her and Marcus. It was more recent—only a few months old. Clutching the pictures, she went to the dresser and pulled out two of her favorite tee shirts. Carefully, she wrapped each photo in a shirt and stuffed them into the bag. Next, she grabbed a few pairs of shorts and a few more tops. A wolf charm with her birthstone that her mother gave her went into the bag, and a few pieces of jewelry Marcus had given her over the past few years. She zipped up the bag and looked around the room.

  The thought of leaving the house behind was both terrifying and exhilarating. She hadn’t been outside the perimeter in years. Emily sat down on the bed and pulled her sneakers on. Her fingers shook as she tied the grey laces. This is going to work. No one is going to get hurt—please don’t let anyone get hurt.

  She stood up and tiptoed to the window, cautiously raising the glass. Emily peered out, relishing in the sweet, grassy air. She surveyed her surroundings before slowly stepping onto the ledge. The closest tree branch was a foot away, but she easily grasped it. Her fingers squeezed the rough bark as she jumped, letting her feet dangle. With a grunt, she swung forward so she could gain momentum. She reached out with her hand and, as if on monkey bars, she grasped onto the next branch and settled her foot onto a lower limb.

  The limb swayed beneath her weight as she guided herself to the tree trunk. Emily gasped, the branch above her snapping, sending a few twigs flying to the ground. Panic rushed in and she prayed no one had heard. She stumbled and reached out, wrapping her arms around the thick trunk. “Easy my ass,” she muttered, both relieved and terrified at the same time.

  Emily anxiously glanced along the yard before slowly lowering herself to the next branch. She continued her steady pace until her feet finally touched the soft grass. Closing her eyes, she let out a relieved breath before dashing the few feet to the side of the house.

  Emily pressed her back against the vinyl siding, her eyes wide, searching for guards. Seeing no movement, she crept along the house until she reached the edge.

  Her pulse roared in her ears as she peered around the corner. She let out a relieved breath when she saw Marcus standing at the tree they agreed to meet at, a bag slung over his shoulder. A smile slid across her face as he motioned her to him.

  She wiped her clammy hands on her jean shorts, took one last look around, and then darted to Marcus. The space between them stretched indefinitely. Marcus’ arms opened and she ran into his warm embrace, suppressing a giggle as he lifted her up off the ground.

  “Are you okay?” he asked

  “I am now,” she breathed, inhaling his mossy scent. Her eyes closed and she burrowed further into the safety of his embrace. Relief washed over her as she clung to him. This felt right—this is where she wanted to be. As long as she had Marcus, she didn’t care where they went. Her heart swelled with love as she burrowed impossibly closer to him.

  They stayed that way for several moments before Marcus pulled back and set her down. He cupped her chin, his eyes grazing over her.

  “I’m fine,” she reiterated. Technically, she wasn’t fine, but she would be. Everything she needed was right here with her.

  “Hey,” Vincent hissed. “No smooching, we are planning an escape.”

  Emily pulled Vincent into a tight hug. She was certain there was nothing she could ever do to let her brothers know how much their help meant to her. Regardless, she was going to show them every chance she got.

  “Is Devon okay?” Emily asked, concerned. She’d never seen him so ragged before. What if he couldn’t make it out of the house?

  “Why wouldn’t he be?” Vincent frowned.

  Emily opened her mouth to respond, but paused when she saw the guesthouse door open and close. Devon! He trotted toward them a bag slung over his shoulder.

  “Are we ready?” Devon asked, his voice barely audible.

  They all nodded. Devon flicked his wrist, motioning for them to follow him. He led them through the grassy front yard to the back of the property. Footsteps approached to their right and Marcus pulled Emily behind a small building, following Devon’s example.

  They pressed their backs against the cool, steel frame. A radio crackled in the distance as one of Emmett’s men drew closer to them.

&nb
sp; Emily panted, her heart hammered against her ribs. Her arms shook and tears pricked her eyes. “Dev,” she mouthed to him panicked.

  Devon held a finger to his lips and placed a hand over her pale, shaking hand. His eyes drifted to the others, leaning on the cool, hard metal beside them.

  Vincent crouched down; pumping his hands as they slowly transitioned into claws. His golden eyes were alert and he was ready to lunge.

  Emily closed her eyes. Please don’t let them catch us. Devon seemed okay, but she knew he was probably hiding the severity of his injuries. They had accelerating healing, but it wasn’t that fast.

  Marcus rested a hand on her arm, rubbing small circles around her elbow in an effort to soothe her.

  The shortwave radio cackled again. Emily flinched. He was so close. She buried her face in her hands. Someone gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. Her body trembled. The only cover they had was the small shed. If the guard took a few more steps, they would be found. There was no way they could take on all of Emmett’s men. And she already knew what he was capable of. If he could beat her with no remorse, then he would kill them just as easily.

  The man laughed a few feet from them and jabbered into his walkie-talkie.

  “We should go back,” Emily whispered as hot tears streamed down her cheeks. “If they catch us, they’ll kill you.” Her freedom wasn’t worth their lives.

  “Shhh,” Marcus soothed, pulling her closer. He placed a kiss to her forehead and cupped her chin with his hands. “We know what we’re getting into, come on.” He slid his hand down her arm and grasped her hand.

  Emily nodded, wiping tears away with the back of her hand. Pull yourself together! The longer they stood here, the more likely they were to be caught. She wasn’t going to let that happen. Inhaling sharply she took a steadying breath. They sprinted to the tree line. She took the lead, setting a grueling pace. Within a few moments, the tree line enveloped them. Her chest heaved from their run and her limbs shook with fear. They were so close to freedom.

  She slung her bag to the ground and yanked her top over her head. Once nude, she neatly stuffed her clothing into her bag for the shift back. Nudity was nothing new to them. It was a part of the transition process. While they could shift clothed, the transformation would destroy their garments.