[Pack 01.0] Defying Pack Law Read online

  Defying Pack Law

  Pack #1

  Eve Langlais

  Contents

  Copyright

  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

  Epilogue

  Also by Eve Langlais

  Author Bio

  Copyright © May 2011, Eve Langlais

  Copyright © 2nd Edition April 2016

  2nd Edition Cover art © Mina Carter, March 2016

  2nd Edition Edits by Devin Govaere

  Produced in Canada

  Published by Eve Langlais

  1606 Main Street, PO Box 151, Stittsville, Ontario, Canada, K2S1A3

  http://www.EveLanglais.com

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Defying Pack Law is a work of fiction and the characters, events and dialogue found within the story are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, either living or deceased, is completely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to digital copying, file sharing, audio recording, email and printing without permission in writing from the author.

  ISBN: 978-1-988328-07-2

  Chapter One

  She ran full out. Her heart pumped wildly, and her breath came in harsh pants as adrenaline coursed through her body. The rush gave her muscles the extra oomph needed for a speed boost. She raced as if her life depended on it, her paws landing fleetly on the rocks she’d memorized. It would take only a small misstep to enter a world of pain because the area was peppered with dangerous foxholes, not all of them natural. She ghosted through the woods on paths marked only in the map of her mind, a labyrinth for the uninitiated. She practiced her escape route with single-minded intensity because, one day, her life might depend on it.

  Hours later, physically exhausted, she returned to her home, which bordered the protected forest that spanned thousands of acres in this lost and godforsaken part of the planet, and shifted back to her human form. She strode, naked and proud, to her rear porch, secure in the knowledge that the only eyes watching her belonged to the simpleminded creatures of the forest. A rumble in the sky preceded the hovering storm and the cleansing rain that would wash the traces of her mad flight, keeping her secret routes safe.

  She knew with an instinct borne of survival that the time fast approached when she would be forced to leave this haven of peace. Staying too long in one place was never a good idea, no matter the precautions she took. While currently Lycan free, the town and its location were too tempting to remain taint free forever. And when that happened, she’d move on, hopefully before she had to kill again.

  It wasn’t the life she’d dreamed of as a little girl, but at least it was hers.

  There were times, when she fought off an unwanted werewolf suitor or fled yet another temporary home, that she wondered if she might not have been better off staying and accepting what fate held in store for her. Marrying the boy she’d once loved, whom her father—the most stern of her fathers—had approved of and whom, in her foolish youth, she’d given herself to. Accepting the fact that he’d share her body with others because pack law deemed he must. If she could only have believed him when he said it wouldn’t be so bad.

  Liar.

  Immaturity didn’t equate stupidity. She’d known, even in her infatuation, that he’d made a promise he couldn’t keep. She’d seen it before in their little society, hidden amidst the human one. She had too much self-respect to want the life of chattel, passed around with her husband’s permission to other males in the pack all because theirs was a society that bred males almost six to one. She’d watched the few women she’d known enter such marriages, only to see in some the light of love fade from their eyes as they were treated little better than vessels for birthing babes and sating the lusts of multiple mates. Like my mother, her poor, sad mother. No, she couldn’t imagine a life like that.

  Better to run than live as a slave, even if her dreams of the boy she’d left behind still haunted her, waking even after all this time sweaty and aching.

  She shook her mane of hair in a bid to chase the melancholic memories and regrets that had no place in her current life—the life I chose.

  Dana dressed in the robe she kept by the back door and then locked the place up. She set the alarm and checked her laptop for perimeter breaches, even though her own scrutiny while in wolf form had detected nothing. Everything appeared quiet, which seemed at odds with her jumpy nerves.

  Paranoia at bay for the moment—but never far from her mind—she showered and went to bed.

  She ran, legs pumping madly, matching her breath coming in short pants. The crackling noise of her passage echoed through the sun-dappled branches, but she dared not slow. The one who chased her left no sound of his passage, but even though he moved as quietly as a wraith, the birds fell silent as they sensed the predator come amongst them. Her meandering flight brought her to a sun-filled clearing. Her chest heaving, she twirled, seeking him in the shadows. But as always, he snuck up on her. Arms, growing solid with brawn, wrapped around her and lifted her from the ground.

  “Caught you,” he whispered in her ear.

  She squealed. “Nathan! Put me down.”

  “I will for a kiss.”

  She pretended to think about it and squeaked as he squeezed her tight. “All right, all right.” She laughed. “You win. One kiss.”

  He turned her in his arms and looked down at her with those beautiful blue eyes. She could see mirth dancing in their depths. It went well with the crooked smile on his face, the one she wanted to kiss senseless.

  She pursed her lips and tilted her head, all the invitation he needed to touch his mouth to hers. Oh, how she loved the electric current that ran through her when he held and embraced her like this. It made her whole body thrum and ache in the most intimate of places.

  It was made even hotter by the fact that it was forbidden.

  When his hands grew bold, tracing the contour of her buttocks, she pushed away from him. With a mischievous grin, she took off running again. And, with his laughter surrounding her, he gave chase.

  Her alarm clock rang shrilly, jolting her from the dream. At least it had been one of the nicer ones, from a time when she still innocently thought things could turn out differently for her. I used to be so oblivious.

  A hot cup of coffee—extra strong and bitter enough to make her grimace—further dispelled the foolish remembrance of her youth. She gulped down a bowl of Cheerios before she dressed in well-worn jeans, a faded plaid shirt, and steel-toed boots. Practical attire for her job at the lumber mill, a dirty, muscle-straining job but one that helped her stay strong, not to mention it also paid the bills.

  It served another purpose as well. The mill, being the only place of real employment in town, meant she could easily keep track of the transients who came to work and ascertain their species—Lycan or human. When it came to the former, she took no chances. Run or die.

  So far, she’d managed to fly under the radar of any packs in the environs and live peacefully. She’d stayed here long enough to even grudgingly come to like the mill and the people she worked with there. The idea of starting all over again didn’t please her. Not only did the constant fresh starts get wearying, she was ti
red of constantly having to prove her worth. She’d worked hard to get to her current position of leader in the headsaw division. Only the best of the best could do it. Unlike the bull-chain operators, who simply pulled the logs into the mills, or the barkers, who ran the stripping machines, she needed skill. Not that she couldn’t do their jobs. She could take over any position in the place, including that of the deck workers who rolled the logs onto the platform or the block setters who placed the logs into position. But any idiot with a little muscle could do those jobs. As leader of the headsaw crew, she was the one they counted on. She made sure they got as much high-grade lumber as possible from each log. It required precision and an ability to feel the wood, something she had a knack for.

  In the beginning, she’d had to prove herself to the other workers in the male-dominated field. Many had scoffed at her when she’d shown up and applied with confidence. Used to mockery, she’d bet the doubters a round of drinks she could do it, and won, of course, to their chagrin.

  It didn’t end the pissing contests, but she’d gotten the job and grudging respect. Employed, she’d rented a house on the edge of the immense forest reserve and lived a careful life. One free of pack politics and emotional turmoil. A lonely existence empty of family and a partner. But better to live on her terms than as a sex slave to numerous men, which was what awaited her should she run across a Lycan who got past her defenses. She enjoyed a fragile freedom that required constant guarding.

  Not trusting just her animal instinct to protect her, she’d splurged and set up a simple perimeter alarm. Anything bigger than a cat and the alarm went off, sending a signal to her laptop, which was always on and which, in turn, would alert her via cell phone. How can I be lonely when paranoia is my constant companion? she thought wryly.

  She drove to work in her beat-up truck. Old, noisy, and a pig on gas, it served the purpose of getting her back and forth to work, and she wouldn’t cry if she had to leave it behind, a lesson learned in one of her previous temporary homes, where she’d had to ditch her lovingly restored Mustang. But I don’t need objects to make me happy, she told herself, even as she still regretted the loss.

  She parked in the muddy parking lot and squelched her way into the building. The stench of the mill this close to the source was almost eye-watering, but she’d had plenty of time to get used to it. She dumped her lunch in the humming fridge and mumbled some good-mornings to the crews already there sipping coffee from their travel mugs. She snagged her time card and punched in. Grabbing a Styrofoam cup, she poured some of the sludge that passed as coffee.

  “Why the hell aren’t you lazy bastards already working?” she demanded.

  “Line’s down,” Big Mike announced.

  Stupid malfunctioning equipment. A delay like this would mean they’d have to work twice as hard to make up for lost time. “Again?” She rolled her eyes. “When is fucking management gonna get its head out of its ass and fix the damned belt with something other than spit and prayers?”

  “When shit’s worth gold,” another of her crew answered.

  She laughed as she nudged Mike to move over on the picnic table management had brought indoors for their use since chairs didn’t seem to last. “Move over, fat ass,” she ordered.

  Big Mike chuckled as he slid over to make her some room. “Honey, my ass might be fat, but my cock is even wider.” Mike held his hands apart two feet, and Dana grinned as she shook her head.

  Dana didn’t take offense. Working with men, she needed to have a laxer attitude, and getting up on her high horse over companionable ribbing would shut her out quicker than tattle-telling to the boss. “Damn, Mike. You are just too much man for little ol’ me.”

  Laughter filled the room as they continued to banter back and forth.

  Cory, a deck worker, stuck his head inside the employee break room. “Hey, Dana. The boss wants to see ya.”

  “Now what?” she grumbled as she stood up and tossed her half-drunk coffee in the battered garbage bin.

  “Tell him I got a hot date tonight and we can’t work late,” Mike called after her as she left to meet with her boss.

  She walked into her foreman’s office, expecting another speech on how the owners needed them to up production—blah blah, blah. In other words, the usual spiel he gave after every quarterly accounting. But it seemed complacency was to be her enemy today because she walked in and froze at the sudden, unmistakable scent of wolf.

  Fuck. The kid in the office, the only name she had for the fresh-faced youth standing there, turned to face her, and his eyes widened. He opened his mouth, probably to say something stupid, and she gave him a cold glare to shut him up. He obeyed, but she didn’t miss the interest lighting his expression.

  A pity she’d have to douse that spark of life.

  She only half listened to her boss as he asked her to show the kid around and find a spot for him to work. His regular training lackey was out sick, and given the log crews were behind due to machinery malfunctions, the annoying task of training fell to her.

  The pup barely waited until they’d left the office to announce his intention. “I claim you.”

  “Not likely,” she snorted.

  “You can’t do that. You’re unmarked, making you free game to the first male who claims you. Pack law says so.”

  Dana whirled and, in a flash, pinned the annoying pup against the wall with a forearm across his throat. “Listen here, little boy. I don’t want to be claimed and really don’t give a shit what pack law says. In case you hadn’t noticed, I chose to live outside of one. If you want to live, I’d suggest you forget about trying to claim me. I’ve taken down much bigger wolves than you.”

  The pup’s face went slack with astonishment—only for a moment. Then male arrogance—also known as the dumbass syndrome—once again took over. “You can’t threaten me like that, and you don’t get to decide what you want. Pack law says I can claim any unmarked female.”

  Dana’s patience snapped, and any squeamish feelings over what she had to do evaporated with his stance. “Really? Is that your final answer? Because, just so you know, my law says any prick who tries to claim me against my will either loses his dick or dies. So, what’s your choice, puppy, because I’m losing patience really fucking fast.”

  When he would have opened his annoying mouth again to spout some more nonsense, she kneed him. Where words tended to not work when a male was thinking with his cock, a dirty shot tended to wake them up real quick—that and she got sadistic pleasure out of seeing them gasp for air and turn all kinds of shades of purple.

  She sauntered away, noting with her keen senses that he followed, if unhappily. He said not one more word to her as she went through the motions of showing him around. She didn’t care if he retained anything or not. He wouldn’t live to see the morning.

  Her decision to take him out didn’t please her, but she knew his type. She’d dealt with them before. Only one thing stopped them once they scented her—death.

  Something alerted her coworkers to her simmering anger, probably her tight jaw and flashing eyes, because the regular crews refrained from saying anything to her face about her little shadow. It didn’t stop them, though, from snickering behind her back when they thought she couldn’t hear—wolves, even in human form, had much keener senses, including enhanced auditory ones. The mill workers joked about how she’d whip the new boy into shape. If they only knew.

  She clocked out at five o’clock but got hung up by one of the guys, who grabbed her by the arm and teased her about her unwilling trainee. By the time she managed to extricate herself, the young wolf was gone.

  “Fuck, fuck, and fuck again.” She muttered expletives under her breath as she stalked to her beaten-up truck. She scanned the parking lot, more a mud pit with various pieces of rusted crap sitting on tires. She didn’t find the pup. Hell, he could have been sitting right under her nose, but given she didn’t even know what he drove, and the overpowering stench from the mill, she couldn’t even track hi
m. However, there were only two places in town to rent rooms, the majority of which were held by mill workers. She didn’t figure he’d be hard to find. Unless he’d smartly left town.

  Two hours later, after scouring the small town several times over, including the diner, bar, and pharmacy, she gave up. The pup seemed to have disappeared, taking the news of her existence with him. She drove home in simmering silence. She wanted to believe he’d left, moved on to greener and easier pastures. Her gut, however, said he’d be back, and she’d bet he was the type to bring friends.

  Pulling into her drive, she hit the gas too hard and spit up gravel with her spinning tires. Not that she cared if she left a rut. The next owner could take care of it. It was time to move on. Dana slammed out of her truck and stalked into her house.

  Un-fucking-believable. Forced to leave because of a wet-behind-the-ears pup. Cursing and rigid with alert tension, she first checked her laptop for any signs of a perimeter breach. None of the alarms had been tripped—yet. She began throwing clothes into a duffel bag, a plan abandoned as the rumble of engines approached. She took a quick peek out her window and saw them coming up her drive. One vehicle, two . . .

  Dana dropped her duffel bag and ran for the back door. She flew outside, tearing at her clothes as she sprinted across her back lawn.

  She smelled the wolves before she saw them. Her eyes flicked from side to side, scanning her yard. She discovered a pair of them flanking the rear of the house. She vaguely wondered how they’d evaded setting off her sensors but didn’t ponder it for long. One thought took precedence at this point—survival. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that they’d planned to either flush her out into their waiting, furry net or, at the very least, corral her in a noose of werewolves, hoping numbers would take her down.

  Like hell. She shifted while running, a feat that had taken practice, given the pain and distraction of exchanging one body for another. But her self-inflicted lessons served her well, as the approaching wolves faltered in surprise. She didn’t waste the moment. She took off like a bat out of hell, following the escape route that existed purely in her mind, one ripe with pitfalls for the unwary.