Gone with the Wolf - By Kristin Miller Page 0,68
leap to the stage. Would it be quick enough? “Our father lived in another time. Since fate brought Emelia to my side, maybe it’s time we change the way we think. Maybe we should shift our pack mentalities a bit. Let her go.”
“Not until I get what I want.”
Silas tugged Emelia’s head back. She yelped. Drake stalked closer. A single table separated them now.
“I told you my terms when we spoke earlier. They haven’t changed. I want all of our father’s estate,” Silas said. “I want the land and property, the holdings, the bonds, the packmates who’ve been employed under his businesses, everything.”
“You have everything. It’s already passed to you.”
Since Drake had become Alpha, Silas had inherited their father’s estate. Drake had been left with the corporation he’d built…the Wilder Financial offices in Seattle and San Francisco. While he’d established the businesses well, they were nothing compared to the ones in their father’s estate. They were nickels in a billion-dollar pot. There was no way Wilder Financial could support Drake’s cost of living. He’d have to seriously downsize, nearly giving up everything. No jets. No multiple mansions. No extra staff. Bye-bye Tara, his grand yacht.
As Drake gazed into Emelia’s eyes, his gut clenched. He’d give up anything to be with her, his life included. He’d sacrifice every last penny he earned to see her smile another day.
Emelia had been right earlier, but only partially. He expected everything and compromised nothing. Except when it came to her.
“I’m not going to fight you on a dollar of our father’s money,” Drake said. “It’s yours.”
Emelia made a squealing sound and squirmed against the ropes. Waves of frustration and anger flowed from Emelia’s body, sparking against Drake’s heightened senses. But mixed with those upsetting emotions came the unmistakable scent of adoration.
“I said everything, Drake.” Silas sucked a breath of air through his teeth. “That means I get control over the pack, too.”
“That’s not happening.”
“Then I’ll kill your woman.”
Rumbling came from deep within Drake’s chest. “This is between us, Silas. It’s always been between us. Why don’t you do the honorable thing for once and leave my woman out of this.” Drake growled, his body seizing into one giant knot.
“But she’s the reason I’m in this position to begin with. If she’s dead, you don’t have a Luminary and you don’t have heirs. When you’re dead and gone, the pack will obey me.”
“You’re more insane than I suspected.” Drake stalked closer. “I’m going to enjoy beating the sense back into you.”
Silas crouched, his hands clenching into fists at his sides, his onyx eyes blazing like wicked fire. His eyes twitched and the wolves against the walls flexed, inching closer.
It didn’t take a calculating mind to know that three wolves fighting against one were terrible odds.
Chapter Twenty-One
Everything stood still.
Drake scanned the furry faces of the wolf to his right, his left, anticipating their first strike. But when his gaze landed on Silas, and he read lethal intent in his brother’s eyes, Drake growled, surging into attack mode. Silas drew his weapon quickly, shooting two electrically charged rods at Drake’s chest. Drake ducked and spun out of the way as the electric strings buzzed through the air and scraped against the floor where he’d stood.
The wolves attacked, charging full speed to Drake’s position. Emelia screamed, a strangled cry muffled by the tape. Silas yanked off the expended Taser cartridge and retrieved the second cartridge on the butt of the gun. Reloaded.
Wolf form or not, if Silas struck Drake with the Taser, he’d drop like a stone. Drake could dodge bullets in wolf form, which was probably why Silas chose a Taser rather than a Glock to try to bring Drake down. Hell, Drake could still rip someone’s throat out with a bullet lodged in his flesh. But by the time Drake stopped twitching from the volts surging through his system, he’d be dead.
Drake saw each and every movement, each step clearer than the last.
As Silas took aim and the wolves closed in, Drake let the fury building inside him coil like a serpent in the pit of his stomach. When the pressure increased, tightening something in his chest into a hard knot, he roared. Muscles exploded over his back, arching his spine higher and higher into the air. His chest ballooned. His teeth sharpened to deadly canine points. He dropped to all fours as fur burst from his skin, blanketing his body in dark, coarse strands of wolf hair. He shook. Quivered with pent-up aggression.
Emelia jerked the