Alpha Queen (Claimed by Wolves #4) - Callie Rose Page 0,2

I imagine it wasn’t pretty.

I’m bracing myself for the idea that she’s going to do it again. How many more tries will it take before she succeeds in killing me?

Ridge must be able to read my thoughts by my expression, because he cups my face and swoops back down for another kiss. This one is fiercer, like he’s going to try to chase all my bad feelings away with just his lips.

To be fair, if it wasn’t a life or death kind of thing, he’d probably be able to do it.

I lose myself in the sensation of his silken mouth and the rasp of his calloused fingers against the bare skin of my back under my shirt. His lips make me forget, if only for a minute, but they can’t make me release my threadbare control over the barrier in my mind.

Even when being treated to a scorching kiss, I can’t let go.

We’re both breathing hard when he pulls away. He presses his forehead to mine, his voice rough and low. “We’ve only just found you, Sable. There’s no way in hell we’ll let Cleo take you from us. She’ll die trying.”

For a long, long moment, we stand there, foreheads together, catching our breath as a mountain breeze swirls around us and makes music in the trees. I wish we could stay here forever, but we have three packs, an entire village of grieving wolves, and an uncertain future to face. So eventually, Ridge offers me his hand, and I let him wrap his strong fingers around mine and lead me back into the heart of the village.

“What’s on the agenda today?” I ask when we get close to the first row of cabins. Shifters are everywhere, spilling out of doorways, sitting on lawn chairs, sweeping up the roads. The East Pack is the smallest by far, and now that all three packs are occupying this same space, the village runneth over.

“Pack meeting tonight,” Ridge says grimly, “so brace yourself for that chaos.”

“Oh, yay.” I let out a sigh that blows my hair from my face. “And what’s going on until then? Can I help with clean up somewhere?”

“Actually, I think you have a stronger need somewhere else.” He glances over at me, honey burning with sympathy and sorrow. “Archer is at his father’s house.”

My heart aches at the mere mention of Malcolm. The East Pack alpha was already at death’s door from a terminal illness when he gave his life protecting me during the battle. But that did little to ease the pain of his passing. His entire pack is hurting—his son most of all.

“What’s he doing?” I ask, glancing in the direction of Malcolm’s house.

“Getting up to speed on some of the things Malcolm took care of as alpha,” Ridge says, and I nod because that sounds about right. Archer would need to know all aspects of the job, not just the things he stood in for while his father was ill. “But also going through his possessions.”

“Oh, no. So soon?” Even I can hear the dismay in my voice. My heart squeezes painfully as I think of Archer sitting in the dusty living room, going through old photo albums and the accumulated belongings of a long, happy life. He’s hardly had time to deal with Malcolm’s death, and I know the grief is still raw. He shouldn’t be sorting out his father’s things already.

Ridge makes a noise of agreement. “I think you should go be with him. He’s going to need you.”

I nod, then rise up on my tiptoes to kiss his scruffy cheek. “Thank you for coming to find me.”

He catches my chin with his fingers, turning his head to kiss me on the lips. “Always, little wolf.”

Our lips linger for one second longer before we break apart. Then, gathering the meager threads of my strength, I change direction and head across town toward Malcolm’s house, hoping I’m not too late to keep Archer from falling apart.

2

Archer

My dad’s entire house is as orderly as his life leading the pack was, and it stings like holy hell, because it reminds me how short I’m going to fall against his legacy.

I came into Dad’s house thinking I’d have to split things up and organize. Pack documents here, personal documents there, knick-knacks and old clothes, all the little things that make up a person’s life. But as it turns out, my father must have been preparing for his absence a helluva lot longer than I did. An entire filing