Free Lone Wolf (The Westervelt Wolves, Book 8) by Rebecca Royce Page A

Gabe hadn’t known such shades existed.
    But when his wolf had left he had taken Carrie’s colors with him. And everything beautiful in the world had vanished.
    Every time he didn’t mention her, pretended to be unmated, neglected to inform his brother the Alpha that he had lost his wolf, he lied and betrayed the people he loved. They’d been searching for a sister they’d all forgotten until part of the spell had been undone. All except Gabriel. Angel, the sister only he knew about for forty years, had remained a vivid memory for him, the baby she’d been when she’d vanished. He could remember holding her when the sun set over the hills of Westervelt, of telling her how she’d grow to be royalty, and what that meant to the pack.
    He’d never uttered a word to tell them where she’d been sent or who she looked like.
    While he’d not helped his father’s men get onto the island, he would have if he’d been asked to. If he ever said no, his father would kill Carrie. Painfully . The one thing in the universe he couldn’t abide.
    The exhaustion of trying to keep the pack alive and not betray the promise of compliance he’d made to his father had eaten at him. Whatever soul he’d once had didn’t exist inside him anymore. Kendrick had to die and he had to take care of it before his meager amount of decency vanished completely.
    It might have taken him forty years to realize that the separation between Carrie and himself—the absolute destruction of their mating bond—would protect her from dying if he died, but better late than never.
    Gabriel sniffed the air again. Carrie’s scent was all over the building, but she stood about twelve hundred feet away from him. He’d guess somewhere near the kitchen since her aroma mixed with the grotesque smell of ruined milk and burned bacon. Another inhale told him Kendrick didn’t currently reside in the building.
    He’d hoped his dad would be home, but he’d have to make do. Gabriel would have to hide out and wait until the arrogant bastard returned. Ducking his head, he walked slowly in the opposite direction of Carrie’s scent. Killing Kendrick would be easy in comparison to facing Carrie again, in letting her see the disaster he’d become.
    With determined strides he moved down the hallway. He’d find a closet and hide until he could end the never-ending torture that his life had become. Kendrick would face the abyss with him. Perhaps there would never be forgiveness for either of them.
    Gabriel rounded the corner, looking for the right spot. He didn’t want to stick himself in a closet where someone might find him by accident. Hell, if Cullen ever found out he’d hid like some kind of untrained pup in a coat closet waiting for Kendrick, he’d never live it down. The pack’s enforcer could have taken out the whole house all by himself, rescued his girl, and gotten home in time to scare the pack’s youth into submission. Well, he could have before the pack had been all but destroyed. These days Cullen spent all of his time putting out fires and handling crisis.
    “Hello, son.” Kendrick leaned against a wall staring straight at Gabriel like he’d been expecting him. Maybe he had.
    Gabriel had always been told he resembled his father the most out of all of his brothers, and although neither Kendrick nor Gabe had aged a day in forty years, he could finally see that everyone had been right. All of these years he’d been blind to it. Gabe was the spitting image of the worst being he’d ever had the unfortunate luck of knowing.
    They had the same shade of brown hair, the same dark eyes. Unlike Tristan, he hadn’t gotten their mother’s chin or hairline. All of it had come from Kendrick. Just like his dirty soul.
    “Kendrick.” Gabe had been prepared for the end, but not this fast and not so incomplete. Nothing like leaving lots of dirty business behind him. “Didn’t smell you.”
    “Were you under the impression, Gabriel, that the Westervelt pack was