mywolfprotector by Unknown Read Free Book Online

something like this off, much less the desire to do it.”
    “Shit,” Marrok spit out. “If it is that means it's much bigger then this mesa. We don't know how many have their fingers stuck in this pot of honey.... Or how many lives have been lost because of it.”
    He hit the boulder behind him, grunting in satisfaction as it cracked. It didn't ease the rage inside of him, though. Nothing could make up for the lose he'd experienced.
    “I know how you feel, my brother,” Alonzo told him, his dark eyes filled with an answering
    deep anger. “We are wolves, but we are human as well. No living being should ever be held captive and used for testing and experiments, regardless of the reasons. It's wrong, and we won't stand for this.
    Before we had no clue. Now the secret's out, and I don't believe there is a werewolf alive that will accept this. These research facilities will be stopped, one way or another.”
    “Damn straight,” Alexander growled out. The air was charged between the three alpha wolves
    as they fought down their natural desire to shift and avenge the wrongs perpetrated against them.
    Tonight they would use the powerful strength of their wolves inside the mesa, but they needed the clear thinking of their human counterparts. There was a brief battle within each man, but eventually, they were able to settle down.
    It was almost time to attack, and the other wolves were anxiously waiting for the signal to move in. They watched with curiosity when Marrok grabbed his large backpack and moved to the small creek next to them. Unzipping it, he laid it on the ground at his feet before pulling off his shirt.
    Alonzo and Alexander slowly followed him, exchanging puzzled looks. “What is he doing?”
    Alexander asked the other man, his golden eyebrow furrowed in puzzlement.
    Alonzo shrugged his massive shoulders. “Hell if I know. I've always wondered what he carried
    in that bag, though. Guess we're fixing to find out.”
    Marrok reached into his bag and pulled out a leather breechcloth. He changed into it, heedless of the men that watched him. Squatting down, he removed a tomahawk and laid it on the ground next to him. He wasn't done, yet. Rummaging further, he pulled out two small deerskin pouches and a mirror.
    “What are those?” Alexander asked, keeping his voice low.
    Alonzo watched Marrok respectfully, his mood instantly somber. “Marrok is a direct descendant
    in a long line of Apache chiefs. He's preparing himself for battle. It's a time-honored tradition among our people, but not one often used in these modern day times. This, more than anything, tells me how much this battle means to him.” He nodded toward the pouches and added as an afterthought. “That's his face paint.”
    Alexander watched in fascination as Marrok gently opened the first pouch and dumped it in his
    hand. He then mixed it with a small amount of water, stirring vigorously with his finger. “That's clay,”
    Alonzo continued softly. “He's using the white to symbolize the long years he's spent in mourning for his mate.” Carefully he applied the clay with a hand-held mirror until it completely covered his face.
    Next, he mixed the charcoal in his hand with some animal fat he took out of a small canister. He applied three, thick stripes down his face, one over each eye and one down the center of his nose.
    Alonzo waited until Marrok had applied the last one before saying, “Each stripe represents each decade he's been parted from her.”
    Parting his long, straight hair in the center, Marrok tied a cloth headband around his forehead.
    He finished off his preparations with a feather stuck on the back of his head, and a pair of moccasins on his feet. Marrok looked up at the other two men, his eyes glowing red and lethal in the darkness. There was no doubting the heritage of the powerful warrior that stood to face them. Shit was going to hit the proverbial fan when he stepped into that mesa.
    “I sure as hell hope he finds his mate