Silver Wolf Clan, Tome 4: Summit of the Wolf

Chapter 1

Morgan gasped and clung to the grab handle of Greyson’s truck for dear life. A horrible screeching sound of metal on metal wailed out as another car collided with the bed of the truck. The men chasing them pulled away, then floored it to catch up again.

Grey’s hand clenched her thigh protectively as he hit the gas and tried to maneuver away from the four-wheeled battering ram. “If we roll, I want you to get out as fast as you can and run for the woods. Change, and when you are a wolf, run for Dean’s.”

“I won’t leave you.” She panted, terror seizing her chest. Her dark hair whipped out of the broken window when she turned and saw the black Ford Escape catching up to them again.

“They’ll take you, Morgan. It’ll be Montana all over again.”

Montana. Just the word brought on the cold sweats. That’s where her kidnappers had taken her. That’s where she had been battered and abused for what she was—for being Silver Wolf.

“What do they want?”

“They want you, and they are determined to plow right through me to get to you. They must have been tailing us all day because they knew the minute we left the hotel.”

Well, the honeymoon was over. Dean had called an hour ago with the message, “Get home now.” Clearly, he’d lost his mind. That old wolf knew better than to give Grey an order. Demon Wolf would happily rip his throat out and squat on the grave if he wasn’t his friend and ally.

Dean had given the message and hung up. Never a good sign when the Dallas pack alpha didn’t offer an explanation. Trouble was coming, and it was as big and wide as a sandstorm.

The Escape jerked away and then swerved into them again with an explosion of metal and glass. The back of the truck fishtailed, and Grey struggled to straighten it back out without slowing. They swerved across the dirt road as if it was made of ice and not Texas gravel. If they rolled here, they’d be just miles from Dean’s property, where they could find backup. Dean’s pack had made a pledge to ally themselves with Grey’s in order to offer Morgan protection—the perks of being one of a kind.

She ripped her gaze from the dizzying road before them. Grey’s sandy blond hair thrashed around his face, and his eyebrows furrowed with unbridled focus. His jaw clenched against the beautifully masculine angles of his face, but his eyes belonged to the lupine Bringer of Death inside of him, golden yellow and seething. The other car was catching up again, but her mate just smiled as if he knew a secret.

Wolf thrived on danger.

She spun to find Brent’s SUV pulling up beside the Escape. Fine-grained dirt billowed in a trail behind it, and Dean’s most submissive wolf leaned forward against the steering wheel with such a look of concentration, she almost missed Jason, the pack enforcer, shouting encouragement from the passenger seat.