Way of the Wolf: Liberty : The Wulvers Series Book 4 Read online

  Way of the Wolf: Liberty

  The Wulvers Series Book Four

  Rebecca Anne Stewart

  Way of the Wolf: Liberty

  Copyright ©️ Rebecca Anne Stewart 2019

  All Rights Reserved

  First Print/Ebook edition: 2021

  Smashwords ISBN-13: 9781005023010

  Paperback ISBN-13: 9798521205493

  The rights of Rebecca Anne Stewart to be identified as the author of this work.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the authors rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Coming Soon

  About the Author

  I followed the call of the wild to find freedom, but maybe it was the call of fate all along...

  Chapter 1

  Trapped

  My fingers hovered over the button that would shape the next few months of my life, eyes glued to the computer screen. One click, that's all I had to do. Biting my lip, my finger twitched, not pressing hard enough to make my purchase final.

  Coward.

  I vibrated in my chair, my wolf pacing restlessly as she had done for months now. A few more months, and I felt sure I'd start to go crazy. My control was slipping, instincts driving me more than logic, fur demanding that I listen to what it wanted from me. The scorn I would face held me back, that and my own fear of the unknown. I loved the pack, I really did, but I wanted to experience more before I tied myself down here. Was that so wrong?

  I thought back to my conversation with my Alpha only the day before. He'd asked me if I was sure, and I'd said yes without thought. That was what everyone kept saying, that I hadn't thought things through. But I had thought. I'd spent years now trying to push away the growing restlessness, the part of myself that urged me to walk away from the pack. I'd come back, that's what I'd said, and I felt sure it was the only thing that had made my Alpha agree to let me go. Yet, I wasn't sure that I'd spoken true. Part of my own hesitancy resulted from my fear; a fear that I'd decide I loved it so much out there that I wouldn't want to come back.

  "Fenna, are you going to come help me finish tea?" my mother called from downstairs.

  A whoosh of air left me, and I closed down the page, spinning around in my chair. Once more, I'd lost the nerve. Paris would have to wait until after I confronted my family and convinced them that my leaving would be the best thing in the world. I'd told my friends first. I had to spill the truth to Raeghan, who cornered me outside her father's office. She might have been younger than me, but already she was proving to be the true offspring of an Alpha. My sort-of cousin took the news better than I’d expected, and she was sure that my family would be supportive.

  I snorted.

  There was a bigger chance of the world spinning backwards than there was of my mother and uncle happily urging me on my way with smiles and waves. My Auntie Oria would be on my side, she always was, and she had a way with my Uncle Quillan. If she agreed that this was something I should do, she would be able to convince him of that too. I hoped. I still had to get the guts to finalise the payment for flights.

  Dark brown eyes stared at my reflection with a slightly disapproving look. Next time I would buy the tickets, I promised myself. But the look in my own eyes seemed disbelieving. Who was I kidding? With my aunt on my side or not, my uncle would never let me go, and—while my mother had always said I should follow my heart—whenever I broached the subject with her, I knew it hurt her. It hurt me too. I loved my home, but there was an itch that I couldn't scratch, no matter how I attempted to distract myself. I'd put it off since I'd left school, three years was a long time to procrastinate. It was now or never.

  Pushing myself to my feet, I glared angrily at myself. I cursed having taken after the Wanderers, with the dark eyes and hair of my mother’s people. My eyes should have been green, like my father's. Maybe if I had more of him in me, then travelling would’ve been no more than a silly dream.

  My eyes flicked to the photo of him above my bookcase. I always glanced at it before I left the room, as if I was looking for his blessing and asking for his strength. It had always been my favourite photo, one of the very few of both him and me together, though I was only a few days old.

  "Wish me luck, dad," I mumbled before I left my bedroom to face my mother. I took the stairs two at a time with less grace than I possessed, and smiled happily at my unamused mother who stood by the kitchen door. I could tell that she had been about to call on me again, and I grinned at having beaten her to it.

  "Do you have to thump about all the time?" she scolded, throwing a dish cloth at me.

  Grinning, I shook my head. "No. Not all the time."

  "Cheeky pup," she muttered. "Can you set the table before Quillan and Oria get here?"

  Giving her a salute that had her rolling her eyes, I got to work as she asked. My gaze focused more on the bright springtime sun that shone through the window than the way I haphazardly lay cutlery on the table. France would be warmer than here in the summer, and then I could make my way along to Italy; hitting Rome, Venice, maybe even all the way down to Pompeii before making my way back to Germany, Hungary, Romania.

  I missed the table completely and a fork clattered to the floor. My mother only sighed as I bent to pick it up. She was used to the sound of me dropping something, or bumping into things, and had long since stopped asking me if I was okay. She accepted that my mind could not be constrained to the here and now, even if she managed to curtail the wandering of my feet. But maybe allowing my feet to wander was the only way I could find some focus for my mind, for a purpose that would give my existence meaning.

  The phone tucked into my back pocket chimed, intruding on that introspection, and I took it out to see a text from Oria.

  "They're on their way, mum. They're leaving the pups at home so they can have a quiet meal," I relayed.

  My mum chuckled, turning to face me. "I thought they would. I hear little Jamie has been giving them quite a bit of trouble."

  I laughed. She was right. I'd babysat not too long ago, and while my cousin Maebh slept quite happily through the night now, and was quiet even during the day, Jamie was a terror 24/7. No number of bared teeth and claws from the pack could keep him in line. They'd need to find a new babysitter once I left, and few dared accept because of Jamie's wild streak, a streak I expected he'd inherited from my uncle. Guilt twisted at my stomach, bu
t I pushed it down. Jamie was not my pup, nor was Maebh, they weren't my responsibility. That had been something I'd voiced at our last family dinner.

  I hoped this meal would end a little bit better than our last one, which had drawn to a close in a clamour of raised voices and the banging of cutlery and crockery off the table top. My uncle pushed me to make a plan for my life, or rather, he tried to. He wanted me to forget about ‘leaving to gallivant around the globe' as he'd put it. My mother insisted that I'd find my way on my own, and Oria had gotten upset when our harsh words had risen in volume. I felt bad of course, I knew her past had been difficult, and frightening her was the last thing I'd meant to do.

  "Fenna, love, don't think on what happened last week too much," my mother soothed, fussing around me. "Your uncle is just protective, and he wants what's best for you. Sometimes it comes out the wrong way."

  "How do you always know what I'm thinking?" I asked, genuinely curious.

  I think she knew what I intended to announce as well, because I could see that knowing glint in her eyes.

  She tapped my nose and winked. "Because I'm your mother."

  I smiled at her answer, but she sighed, her hand going to my cheek. "You're getting harder to read, you know. The older you get, the more I feel like you don't need me so much anymore."

  "Of course I still need you, Mum. Who would fight Uncle Quillan for me?" I teased, nuzzling my cheek into her hand.

  She chuckled and kissed my forehead, then moved away to check on the food in the oven. Strong spices hit my nose and my mouth watered, already thinking about eating. Everything my mother cooked was good, and there wasn’t one member of the pack who hadn’t tasted her food. She was the pride and joy at pack gatherings, thanks to the special dishes she’d bring.

  I finished setting the table, then sat down to flick through the pictures I'd saved on my phone, hoping to strengthen my resolve. I'd gotten as far as actually planning the whole trip this time, saving images from every place I'd visit. I'd even added the dates and times of my intended itinerary to my calendar, all in preparation, if only I found the courage.

  I sighed, dropping my phone on the table, but my wallowing was cut short by a knock on the door. Not that Quillan ever waited for us to answer before he came in. He treated our house like his own, and we didn't think to mind. He was family.

  My mother came rushing back through, brushing back strands of dark hair before giving her brother a grin. He grinned back, scooping her up into a hug. His reputation would be ruined if the pack could see how he was here. In private with his family, he was affectionate and gentle. Tamed... Almost.

  "It smells good in here, Maya," he complimented.

  "You must have a sixth sense, you always arrive just as tea is ready," she joked, motioning for my aunt and uncle to take a seat while she went to dish out the food.

  Oria smiled as she sat across from me. "Fenna can do the same trick. She arrived to babysit just as I'd finished some baking yesterday."

  "I was already nearby, and I couldn't let the cookies go to waste, or miss out on my share." I laughed. "I know Uncle Quillan doesn't eat them, but given the chance, Jamie and Roarke would eat them all."

  My comment was met with more laughter and a little of the tension in my shoulders melted away. Maybe tonight would go well after all.

  My mother laid plates of food in front of our guests before fetching ours, and then finally took a seat herself. She never allowed anyone to help her when she had guests, except me. She took her duties as a hostess seriously. Tonight's meal was a personal favourite of mine, chicken and roast vegetables soaked in a blend of spices and sauces that my mother kept secret. The room fell quiet as we all started to eat, and like always I moaned at the flurry of tastes that hit my tongue.

  "So good, mum," I grinned, "Like always."

  "Thank you, dear." She smiled.

  I paused to pour myself a glass of wine, filling it a little more than was probably acceptable, but wine was my guilty pleasure. Quillan eyed my glass but said nothing. He'd long since given up trying to make me stop indulging. He saw my drinking as a bad habit, even though I knew he was partial to a glass of whisky. But rowing over it served neither of us.

  We ate in almost silence after that, only a few words shared as we dug into the meal. Of course, the peace couldn't last long.

  "Have you thought anymore about going to university or finding a job around the pack?" Quillan asked, causing tension to sour the easy atmosphere that had been present just moments ago.

  Oria gave him an unimpressed look, but he ignored his mate, and I stabbed at a piece of pepper. It always came back to this, to what I was going to do with my future. I knew he was only worried about me; the upbringing he and my mother had was unstable, and for my uncle it hadn't ended well. He didn't want me to struggle to find my place in the world the way he had.

  "I've thought about it," I said simply, refusing to look up from my plate.

  "And?"

  Sighing heavily, I took a long sip of wine and tried to think of an answer that wouldn't erupt in another family argument

  "University just isn’t for me. I barely scraped through high school, I don't want to put that pressure on myself," I answered honestly in the hopes of appeasing him.

  "And that's okay, it's not for everyone. I never even completed school and I've managed just fine," Oria quickly added, placing a hand on her mate's arm.

  My mother came to my defence too. "She knows she needs to do something but she's young, let her enjoy life for a while longer before you start pressuring her to join your scouts or hunting team. Besides, you're lucky she isn't doing anything too time consuming, or you'd lose your on-demand babysitter."

  I was glad both females were on my side. Alone, it was hard to argue with my uncle, especially when I found myself getting so flustered and annoyed with him that I often forgot my own arguments.

  Quillan allowed himself to laugh at my mum's joke. "That's very true."

  Relaxing again as the tension eased, I carried on eating. Dare I tell them all my plan, I wondered, was it worth another fight? I had the money, and I'd already spoken to Alpha Roarke to get permission to leave, and so he could call ahead to any packs whose territory I would cross on my intended route, so I'd have safe places to stay.

  My mother's eyes turned towards me, almost as if she knew, yet again, where my mind had gone. Taking a deep breath, I willed myself to find the courage.

  "Actually, I might not be available for babysitting for a while…” I trailed off, suddenly finding the label on the bottle of wine the most interesting thing in the room.

  Oria looked up. "Oh?"

  "I've spoken with our Alpha and I have his blessing and permission. I'm going to travel. I want to see the world before I'm bound to the pack. I've planned everything, spoken with various other packs, and I've saved enough money now," I began, getting a little excited as I explained. "I'm going to visit Paris first."

  Both my mother and Oria seemed happy for me, their smiles bright and genuine.

  "I think this is something you need to do, dear. You come from a family of Wanderers, it was silly of us to expect you to stay here your whole life," my mother said approvingly.

  Despite her confident words, I could see all the worries that she tried her best to hide. My uncle noticed too.

  "You know how dangerous that life is for our kind, Maya," he growled, his hands turning to fists on the table. "It's not safe."

  "I'm not going to travel the world forever, Uncle. I'm just going on a long holiday. I'll come back, and I'll be safe. Honest. I've thought of everything," I promised.

  "You can't possibly have thought of everything! Anything can happen out there, Fenna. You're not going and that's final," he stated firmly, only relaxing when he saw how tense Oria had grown. "We should have nipped your obsession with running away in the bud, back when you were still a pup."

  A growl rumbled from my chest; my wolf unhappy with allowing another to dictate how I handled my
own future. I was a female without a mate or pups, my life was my own to do with as I pleased. Many of my human friends from school had left to travel, or to work in another country. I craved the same freedoms that were afforded to everyone else.

  "It's not up to you, I'm a fully grown she-wolf, I can make my own decisions," I snapped, standing from the table, letting the full force of my own dominance out to show him how strong I was.

  My uncle had trained me to fight since birth. He'd taught me to never lower my head, to never submit to one weaker than I, no matter their rank in the pack. Between my mother and him, I'd been brought up a warrior, and I knew how fierce I could be. Having my uncle doubt me in front of my family felt like a punch to the gut. He, who had ensured I would become strong, should not have doubted me.

  I tilted my chin up, refusing to submit to him, even as my body trembled under the weight of his power. But he was Beta. He could have been more if he’d led a different life, one that hadn’t left him with so many demons. I was no match against that. I wondered if I ever would be, and if his continued dominance would breed a festering resentment between us.

  My uncle appraised me with calculating eyes and he didn't so much as flinch at my show of fang. There was nothing I could do to make him take me seriously, nothing at all, it seemed. My mother sighed heavily when her brother stood, ready to put me in my place for my insubordination, and I readied myself for a fight.