Mark of the Wolf: Part Three: Mark of the Wolf Trilogy, #3

By Kimber White

The fuse is lit.

This time, if I can't fight against my primal nature, everyone I'm sworn to protect may burn right along with me. A man from my past is waiting for me, ready to watch me fall so he can be there to make me submit to his demands.

My salvation. My damnation.

I thought I'd found a way out. A way to break free of my fate. But every time I think I've conquered my demons, there he is. Irresistible. Dangerous. The wrong thing for me, but the only man who makes me feel whole.

I need to be strong enough to walk away from the devil this time. But the deal he's offered may be too tempting to resist.

Oh…my devil knows me far too well…

Don't miss the stunning conclusion to the Mark of the Wolf Trilogy. If you like your wolf shifter dudes hot, tortured, angsty, scarred, and ready to rip apart anyone who touches their fated mates, this one's for you. This is a slow-burn, enemies to lovers paranormal romance trilogy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nokay Press, LLC
• Release date: Dec 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201837778

Kimber White

Kimber White writes steamy paranormal romance with smoldering, alpha male shifters and kickass heroines (doormats need not apply). Because she just can't help herself from torturing her heroes…expect edge of your seat suspense as Kimber's characters fight for their happily ever afters and their fated mates. Kimber lives on a lake in the Irish Hills of Michigan with her neurotic dog and wildly supportive family. For the latest scoop on Kimber's new releases plus a FREE EBOOK as a welcome gift, be sure to sign up for Kimber's newsletter at www.kimberwhite.com

Book preview

Chapter One

T his cannot be the end, I said. I will not allow it!

In her nearly one hundred years of life, Pat Bonner had seen things that made the strongest of men fold. She had raised Alpha wolves from mere pups. She had loved and lost more times than any of us could fathom. Through it all, she had been the glue that held Wild Lake together. Today, though, as she sat at my brother’s bedside, I saw true fear in her eyes.

I don’t understand, I said. I pressed a hand to Jarred’s head. He was ice cold. That might have been a comfort if he were fully human. But we shifters ran hot. Whatever was happening to him had sapped nearly every ounce of strength from him.

He recognizes you, Pat said. "That’s something. There have been days where I’m not even sure he knows who he is let alone any of the rest of us."

He was getting better when I saw him last, I said. He went through the worst of his spell withdrawal on the boat on the way over.

Pat pulled the covers up to Jarred’s chin. This isn’t spell withdrawal, Tempest, she said. It’s something much worse.

Where are my parents? I asked.

Come with me, she said. She smoothed Jarred’s hair back and whispered something to him. His eyes stayed glassy and fixed. His only sign of life was the steady but ragged rise and fall of his chest.

We shouldn’t leave him, I said. Pat took my hand.

He’ll stay like that for hours. Days. We can try to get him to take some broth in a little while. But there’s nothing else to be done for him right now.

I followed Pat down the hall. She turned to me at the foot of the stairs. You need to prepare yourself, she said.

I felt as though I had to will my heart to beat. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a nightmare. A fever dream. This was Wild Lake. The largest wolf shifter territory in the Midwest. Generations of powerful Alphas had raised their packs here in harmony. We’d survived the last shifter war intact. How could sickness bring the packs down now?

Pat began to climb the stairs. Her steps were heavy and deliberate.

Have you been doing this yourself? I asked in horror, imagining her climbing these stairs dozens of times a day. She could get around, but at her advanced age it took its toll.

Pat didn’t answer. She waited for me at the top of the stairs. With black-hearted dread, I followed her up.

She pointed to the room at the end of the hallway. It was the suite my father had built for her. That she had so far refused to use.

Go on in, she said. I’ll give you a few minutes alone with them.

Them.

A childlike superstition came over me. Maybe if I didn’t open that bedroom door, I could pretend what was behind it wasn’t there. But then I heard a woman’s voice. A cry of pain that cut through me like a sword.

I don’t remember opening the door. In an instant, I was at my mother’s bedside.

She looked far worse than my brother did. Her once-lustrous hair hung in strings. Pat was in her nineties, but somehow my mother looked even older. Her eyes had clouded over. I knew at once she was going blind.

Mama, I said, trying to keep the alarm out of my voice. It’s Tempest. I’m here. I’ve come home.

My mother’s lips were moving. She was saying something, but no sound came out. I leaned in, trying to hear her whisper.

Tem. My father’s hoarse croak cut through me. He was seated in a chair in the darkest corner of the room. Only his silver wolf eyes were visible. I rose. He seemed caught in mid-shift. My father’s hands and feet had turned to paws. His ears were pointed and his fangs dropped. But the rest of him was human…more or less.

Daddy, I said. What happened? What is this?

He erupted in a dry, hacking cough. You shouldn’t have come, he said. Tem, run. Get away from us.

I’m not going anywhere, I said, dropping to my knees in front of his chair. You need help. Tell me what you know.

She got sick, he said. Started out she couldn’t shift. Then her heart…I can’t hear her heart anymore.

My blood ran cold. My mother and father were fated mates. Their hearts had beat in tandem since the moment they mated.

I can’t hear her, he said. God. It meant their telepathic link had been severed.

Daddy, I said. She’s alive. She’s still alive.

It’s happened all over the lake, he said.

The door creaked open. Pat was there.

Tucker, she said. Don’t strain yourself. She moved to the window and carefully opened the shades, flooding the room in light.

My father’s skin had become translucent. My mother’s had gone white and waxen.

Dragonblood, I said. We need to get a hold of Xander Brandhart. Why hasn’t anyone sent for him? If it’s all the packs, the Devanes are ill too. Xander Brandhart, one of the last remaining dragons on earth, had a family connection to one of the Alphas settled here.

Tempest, Pat said. We need to talk somewhere in private.

I turned back to my father. I put a hand to his cheek. Like my brother, he was cold to the touch. I pulled the blanket covering him up to his chin.

You need your rest, I said. I’m here now. I’ll get help. It’s going to be okay. I promise.

My father’s eyes wandered up, searching for mine. Why did you come back here? he said. Pat, why did you let her?

Hush, Pat said. She grabbed my arm. Let them rest. They can handle the sunlight for a little while. If I had the strength to get them outside, I would. Maybe now that you’re here…

NO! My father found the strength to shout. Tempest, you need to leave. That’s an order. I’m still the pack leader around here.

I’m not going anywhere, I said. Pat pulled me toward the door. She put a finger to her lips and ushered me back into the hall. She closed the door softly behind her.

What is this? I said.

Shh, she said. Keep your voice down. Your father’s ears are still sensitive. If he hears too much, it’ll agitate him.

They need Dragonblood, I said. Whatever this is, it’ll heal them. The Brandharts should be here. We have to send for them.

Follow me, she said.

Gran, I said. You need to be resting, too. Have you been going up and down stairs to care for them by yourself?

You’re here now, she said. The four-wheeler is still out in the barn. You can make your rounds when you feel up to it.

My rounds?

Pat took the steps one at a time, letting each foot fall side by side before she tackled the next one. When I moved to pick her up and carry her, she waved me off.

I can get there, she said. Don’t need to show off with your wolf strength.

We made our way back to the kitchen. Pat went to the nearest chair and sat down. I looked at her. Really looked at her. New lines carved through her face. For as long as I’d known her, she had always held joy in her eyes, no matter what drama had befallen Wild Lake or the world. Now, she just looked sad.

Dragonblood doesn’t help, she said. Your father believes this is fae magic. That’s why your brother said we had to find this Lissa. He said she’s fae. Or part fae…something. He goes in and out.

I told you, I said. She’s dead. She tried to hurt someone I thought I cared about. I had no choice. I killed her.

Where have you been, Tempest? Pat said, her eyes filling with tears.

I came back, I said, not knowing how else to answer.

Thank God for that, she said. I don’t know how much time they have left.

Where are the others? I asked. The Tullys? The Laniers? The Monroes?

They’ve all been afflicted, Pat said. Some are worse than others. We’ve lost some.

Who?

Some of the newer betas in the Devane pack. Laura tried to nurse them as best she could. Thankfully, whatever this is doesn’t seem to cross to humans. It’s the only thing that’s kept us going. But every shifter in Wild Lake is sick, Tempest.

Well, I’m going to get more Dragonblood, I said, rising.

I told you, she said. We tried that. We used our entire stockpile.

During the war, my father had procured a vial of Dragonblood to hold in case of emergencies.

It’s gone? I said. All of it?

Pat nodded. Your mother had three drops of it. It never made a dent. If anything, she got worse after.

It’s old, I said. Xander gave us that blood over ten years ago. If they’re willing, I’ll see if I can get one of the Brandharts to come in person. We can get it directly from the source.

Tempest, Pat said. You’re not hearing me. It doesn’t matter how old the Dragonblood is. It doesn’t go bad. I’m telling you whatever this thing is, it’s immune to it. So we’re dealing with a magic even older than that. We’re dealing with something fae. Jarred said Lissa might be persuaded to help. If she could be a friend…

She wasn’t a friend, I said. No fae are friends.

Pat let out a great sigh. Then we’re out of ideas.

There has to be hope, I said.

I said ideas. Not hope.

I’ll get Dr. Olivet, I said. If anyone can figure out what this is, it’s her.

Dr. Suzanne Olivet was the most experienced shifter doctor we knew. She had delivered Jarred and me.

If she’ll come, Pat said. I spoke to her on the phone. She thinks whatever we’re dealing with could be carried by humans, even if they’re not getting sick. She hasn’t wanted to risk bringing it back with her and infecting the Canadian packs.

Well, I won’t give her a choice, I shouted.

Tempest, she said. I’m glad you’re here. For me. But you’re in danger now too. Your father made me promise not to send for you. He’s convinced this is a death sentence.

He’s wrong, I said, rising. I won’t allow it to be. I’m going to go find help. I’ll drag Suzanne Olivet here if I have to. She owes our family. I’m planning to collect.

I stormed out of the kitchen, new rage heating my blood. I ignored Pat’s pleas as I made my way out the back door.

Fear fueled me. Primal anger. Before I knew what I was doing, I shifted. I raced through the woods and followed the trails to the lake.

God. The lake.

It was here I’d brought X when he was wounded and bleeding all those years ago. Here I’d first let him kiss me.

X.

Anson.

Lies. All lies. All of it. My fault.

I sank my paws into the sand. The sliver of the moon began to rise. The day was gone. I stepped out onto the flat rock jutting over the water’s edge. Here, the wolves of Wild Lake had made their pacts with the moon. To live. To lead. To make peace.

X had defiled that. Anson.

Even as hate poured through my veins, desire did too. My family was dying of something, but X was my disease.

I raised my head and howled. The