Starr, Ellen - Wolf's Passion [The Joined] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) by Ellen Starr Read Free Book Online

Doc again.
    Jean-Paul thought about the last time he saw Doc. He could almost taste the dust and gun smoke of that day. Jean-Paul lifted the gun and aimed into the darkness. Gazing down the barrel, the scene unfolded before him. Unconsciously he adjusted his stance. Doc had stood to his right and Wyatt and his brothers a little farther on. After months of ambushes and insults, they faced the Clantons and part of their Pack that day in the lot across the street from the OK Corral.
    History had forgotten his role, but Jean-Paul didn't mind. He preferred to remain anonymous. Other memories of events long past threatened to overwhelm him. With difficulty, he pushed them back and focused on controlling his breathing until he relaxed.
    He allowed himself a soft, private chuckle. Who knows, I might just get into a little trouble while I’m there. Doc always did love a good fight .

Chapter Nine:
    Sheep

    Rafe stepped out into the moonlight. He looked up at the stars. For several minutes, he enjoyed the simple pleasure of gazing at the glittering points of light. He heard Wolf inside, fucking Cora. From the sound of her moans, things were going well. Time to go find Dale before the sounds of his Alpha mating Cora worked Dale up too much to be handled. Rafe did not fancy being bitten. He adjusted his cock and thought about distracting his feral friend.
    Rafe walked down to the barn, looking for Dale. The young man was nowhere to be seen, and the corral was empty. Rafe frowned at the unusual circumstances. Normally there would be several horses there. He couldn’t see the few cows they had not sold in the small pasture nearby. He realized with a sinking feeling he couldn’t hear any sheep either. None at all. Cold washed over Rafe, taking away any arousal he’d felt. He picked up his pace, walking faster toward the barn. If Dolores ordered her Pack to do anything to their livestock, Wolf would tear out their throats no matter what the council rules said about attacking a fellow Werewolf.
    He broke into a run as he got closer to the barn. Dale loved those sheep. Sometimes Rafe thought Dale was part sheepdog, the way he worked with those animals. If anything happened to them, Dale would be devastated. He was closer to the animals on the small ranch than he was to his Pack. Rafe burst through the side door of the barn. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw Dale standing by the ladder to the loft. His relief did not last. Dale looked up at him. The young man’s face was pale under his tan. Something on his face glittered in the moonlight. Rafe’s heart lurched when he recognized tears. Dale never cried.
    “What? What’s happened?” Rafe reached out to pull Dale close, wrapping his arms around him. It was more than an urge to comfort someone he cared deeply about. If Dale lost it, Rafe wanted to have a good hold on him. Cora did not need to see a Werewolf gone berserk. Not after her experiences with those goons that hung with Dolores.
    “They’re dead,” Dale whispered. “All of them. Even the babies.” Rafe looked into Dale’s amber eyes. They were glassy. He was in shock.
    “Show me.” Rafe nudged Dale around toward the doors that opened onto the sheep pen in back. Dale didn’t resist. He led Rafe out to a scene of pure horror. Their small herd of sheep, twelve animals including four lambs, lay scattered, lifeless, around the pen. Rafe swore under his breath. What the hell could have done this?
    “All right, you go into the barn and get the shovels. We’ll bury them, and then we’ll take a run and see if we can find any traces of who did this.” Rafe turned Dale, giving him a gentle push toward the barn. He waited until Dale had gone inside to walk over and push one of the carcasses with the toe of his boot. It appeared he’d be killing some wolves after all. He sighed, kneeling to look closer. All the sheep had been torn apart. Dolores was sending them a message, join me or I’ll ruin you .
    Rafe stood, testing