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Authors: Marisa Chenery

Tags: #Wolves of East Anglia

Taming Her Heart

BOOK: Taming Her Heart
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Table of Contents

Title Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Author Bio

Taming Her Heart

Wolves of East Anglia: Book Five

Marisa Chenery

Published: 2011

ISBN: 978-1-936950-55-3

 
Published by Summerhouse Publishing. Copyright, Marisa Chenery. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

Summerhouse Publishing

http://summerhousepublishing.com

Email

[email protected]

Editor

Craig Kim

Cover Artist

Mina Carter

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

 

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Chapter One

 

The night closed around Dolf as he got out of his black Porsche 911 Carrera S and headed out on the hunt for the werewolves sired by Fenris the wolf. At one time, it’d been all he’d lived for. As one of the warriors that Tiw, the Anglo-Saxon god and Sky Father, had charged to protect mortals from the beasts who hunted them, Dolf was good at what he did. A sword in his hand as he struck down his enemies was when he’d been his happiest—until he’d found Maggie.

Walking down one of the streets in Norwich, it
appeared
to be like any other one found in England. Except around here, one never knew what could be lurking in the dark shadows, ready to spring. It only took a single bite from one of Fenris’ get to change a mortal into what had attacked him.

Dolf kept his senses alert to his surroundings, hoping to come across his prey. There was one in particular he wished to find each night he hunted—the bastard who was the pack leader of the enemy. It was because of Stephen, that Maggie, Dolf’s would-be mate, was absolutely terrified of werewolves. That included Dolf, since Tiw had bestowed upon all of his warriors the ability to shift into what they hunted, to give them a better chance of taking down the beasts they faced.

If Dolf ever managed to get his hands on Stephen, he’d tear the fucker apart with his sharp teeth and claws while in werewolf form, before sinking his sword that had silver mixed with steel through his black heart. After abducting Maggie and keeping her prisoner in his pack’s den, it was what Stephen deserved. Dolf wouldn’t rest until he put the bastard down. He’d watch as Stephen’s body was consumed by Tiw’s god-fire, wiping him out of existence as if he’d never been.

Thoughts of Maggie and what she meant to Dolf had his wolf throwing back its head, howling mournfully. Both it and the man longed for their mate. He ached to seek her out at her parents’ house and pull her into his arms, and never let her go. But the way things now stood, that would never happen. He’d tried to see her shortly after he and his fellow warriors had rescued her, but all he’d gotten was the door slammed in his face, though not before he’d seen the terror in Maggie’s eyes. That had felt as if someone had taken a knife to his guts.

Catching a scent on the slight breeze blowing in his direction, Dolf slowed his steps. A werewolf was nearby, not the one he sought, but still one of his prey. The area he hunted, the homes were spaced out with large back gardens and ample places to hide in the shadows.

Dolf stopped in front of a house cloaked in complete darkness, giving away the fact that no one was home. He sniffed the air, following the scent trail to the side of the property. Several tall bushes were planted there, and the werewolf’s scent seemed to be coming directly from them.

He shook his head at the beast’s stupidity. Where he hid offered no protection, nor did it stop Dolf from being able to detect him. With stealthy movements, he worked his way to where his prey was concealed and willed his sword onto his back. He reached over his shoulder and grasped the handle to unsheathe it. The blade quietly hissed as it came free of its scabbard. The silver mixed with steel shone in the moonlight.

A blur of dark brown fur shot out from the bushes and charged Dolf. He deftly stepped out of the way, and at the same time, brought up his sword, catching the werewolf across its chest. The beast howled as its skin sizzled from making contact with the silver. Dolf expected another attack, but slowly lowered his weapon when the werewolf shifted to his human form.

“What the fuck,” his prey cried out while he pressed a hand to his wound and scowled.

To say this was unlike any normal werewolf behavior he’d witnessed would be an understatement. Fenris’ get usually didn’t back down, especially when confronted by one of Tiw’s warriors. Their pack members knew all about them.

“Tell me you did not just cut me with a fucking sword,” the werewolf spat.

Dolf frowned. “Ah, yeah, I did. It’s what I do.”

“So you go around jabbing it into innocent people, whenever you feel like it?”

Now, this was getting downright weird. “I’d hardly call you innocent. You’re a werewolf.”

The other man sniffed the air. “By your scent, I’d say you are too.”

It was Dolf’s turn to scowl. “I’m nothing like you. I can shift into werewolf form, but I’m one of the Anglo-Saxon god’s warriors.”

“A god? You expect me to believe that shit?”

Dolf was really confused now. “Are you playing some kind of a game to delay the inevitable? All the members of your pack know about me and my fellow warriors. You consider us the bad guys, because we kill as many of your kind as we can. It’s our job to protect mortals from Fenris’ get. And the best way to do that is to end your existence.”

The werewolf shook his head. “I haven’t a fucking clue what you’re talking about. I don’t know about any pack. I’ve been on my own.”

“How can you be? When was your first shift?”

“Two nights ago.”

Dolf gave the werewolf a direct look. “You should’ve been drawn to the pack’s den by instinct, after you were bitten. Then, on the night of the first full moon, you shift, while another pack member takes you out and watches over you as you claim your first victim.”

“You mean, kill someone?”

He nodded. “Yes. That’s what your kind live and breathe for—bloodlust and death.”

“No, man,” the werewolf said as he shook his head in denial. “No fucking way. I don’t want to kill anyone, though the idea of hunting down a rabbit, or even a deer, doesn’t sound too bad. But not people. Never that.”

Dolf felt as if everything he’d ever known about werewolves sired by Fenris went straight out the window. This newly turned didn’t match what one should be like. And the fact he hadn’t found the pack had Dolf wondering if it were no longer together. The night he and his fellow warriors had rescued Maggie, they’d learned the werewolves had become divided. Not all of them had liked Stephen being the leader.

He scratched his head. Dolf believed him. The werewolf didn’t show the typical aggression associated with his kind. Looking into his eyes, Dolf didn’t see the soul of a killer, either. “If that’s the case, I have to admit I haven’t a clue what to do with you. My gut is telling me you aren’t like the others.”

“Then let me just walk away.”

Dolf shook his head. “I can’t do that. You’re still a threat to mortals. You might not go around killing them, but one bite from you will turn them.”

The werewolf held up his hands as if to hold Dolf off. “I’m not going to do that. You have my word.”

“Shit,” Dolf said under his breath. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t take the werewolf’s life just because of what he was. If Dolf did, it would make him no better than the beasts he hunted each night. He trusted his gut, and it usually wasn’t wrong. He couldn’t believe he was going to do this, but he didn’t see any alternative. “What’s your name?”

“Chris.”

“I’m Dolf. Well, Chris, I think you need to come with me. I can’t leave you running around loose, especially if you’re going around lurking in bushes.”

“I wasn’t doing that.” Chris gave him a sheepish look. “I-I was hiding.”

“From what?”

“You. You smell like a werewolf. I don’t know how the hell I know that, I just do. The encounter I had with the one who attacked me was more than enough.”

Dolf shook his head in disbelief. “It’s called instinct, Chris. And it goes to show you can’t be left to your own devices. Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Nowhere bad. I have to bring you to someone who’ll have the final decision about your fate.”

Chris backed up a few steps. “Ah, I really don’t like the sound of that—deciding my fate. I’m not going anywhere with you if it means I’ll end up on the tip of your wickedly sharp sword.”

“What would you rather do? Wait around until you finally run into another of your kind? I can tell you right now, you’ll be considered weak and fair game. You’d come out the loser in a fight. And I know for a fact you wouldn’t survive it.”

A look of uncertainty flashed across Chris’ face before he blew out a deep breath. “All right, I’ll go with you, but you have to promise me you won’t just up and kill me without giving me a chance to defend myself. My life has gone to the loo enough already.”

Dolf held out his hand. “You have my word.”

Chris hesitated for a second before he closed his around Dolf’s and they shook. “I’m going to hold you to it.”

“It goes against my honor to do anything less. Come on, I have to stop somewhere first.” He sheathed his sword at his back and then willed it away.

He led Chris to his car. The other man whistled. “You have a sweet ride, Dolf. Any chance I can take it for a spin?”

“Not in this lifetime,” Dolf said with a snort. He aimed the remote on his keychain at the Porsche and pushed the button to unlock the doors. “Get in.”

Once they were both buckled in, Dolf started the car and drove away from the curb. He had no idea what Raed would say about him bringing a werewolf to the mansion, but Dolf still didn’t know what else to do. As their leader, and onetime king, Raed would have the final decision. But he had to make a stop before returning home.

Having driven this same route every night for the past couple of months, Dolf could do it with his eyes closed. It didn’t take too long to arrive at his destination. He pulled over to the side of the road and looked at the house across from where he was parked.

It was torture, but he couldn’t
not
go to Maggie’s house and check to make sure she was safe. She was his mate, and it was his right to protect her. Each time he came, he hoped like hell he’d be able to catch a glimpse of Maggie. Something just to tide him over for another day. So far, he’d driven away disappointed each time, and feeling as if he were no closer to making Maggie his.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dolf caught a shadowed figure walking down the sidewalk toward the house. His whole body seemed to come alive when he turned his head and saw it was Maggie. Alone. That had him growling softly as he shot out of the car and headed to intercept her before he could think about what he was doing.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing walking around outside at night by yourself?” he asked gruffly. “It’s not safe for you.”

Maggie came to a sudden stop, her eyes widening. “Stay away, Dolf. Leave me alone.”

BOOK: Taming Her Heart
5.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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