Page 2 of Logan’s Acadian Wolves

In a flash, he grabbed her wrists, bringing them against his chest.

“Yeah, that. Seriously, it’s time. Now that I’ve established dominance, it’s time for me to go into the city. I’ve got work to do. And you, my lovely vixen, have a business to run.”

She sighed, leaning her forehead against him. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know what he was saying to be true. Reality was a bitch. A hard sigh escaped her lips at the realization that he was sending her home.

“Kat, we both miss Marcel. It’s been hard on both of us. But you’ve got to go spend time with Tristan. Tend to your shop. And when things settle down, if you still want to come back here, you know you’re always welcome. But for now, we’re just using each other. It’s not healthy…for either of us.”

She shook her head in denial. “It’s not like I don’t know you’re right. It’s just…I miss him so damn much.”

“I do too, baby, but this isn’t the answer.” Logan pressed his lips to her wet cheek. “It’ll be okay. Go home. Comfort Tris. He needs you as much as you need him.”

“When are you leaving for the city?” She lifted her head as he gently released her arms.

“Tonight. Dimitri and I are leaving in a few hours,” he told her with a small smile.

“I’ll miss you. And Dimitri,” she contemplated, accepting that her time in New Orleans was coming to an end.

The past months since her brother’s death had been awful. The only thing that had made anything slightly tolerable was the hot nights she’d spent with Logan and his beta. Instead of openly grieving, she’d buried her feelings deeply. As sister to the slain Alpha, she chose to be strong for the pack, for Logan.

“I’ll miss you too, but it’s time. I didn’t choose this, but it’s my path. I’ve got to move on for the sake of my wolves,” he explained. “And you need to let go of him. Marcel’s gone. You need to be able to grieve. As long as you are here, you’ll never move on.”

The steel band that wrapped her heart in grief tightened. Wolves didn’t die, especially not her strong Alpha brother. It was as if Logan’s words made it real. She knew he was dead, saw them lower his body into the grave, smelled his scent in the earth every time she went for a run. He was truly gone.

Sensing her retreat within her own mind, Logan pulled her into his arms, cradling her head to his breast. “It’s okay to let go,” he whispered.

A gasp of devastation gushed from her chest before she had a chance to swallow it. The wave of depression washed over the walls of sanity she’d tried so hard to build. Digging her fingers into his shoulders, she sobbed, the anguish of losing her sibling no longer held at bay. Goddess, she missed her big brother. She knew in that moment that as much as she loved Logan, it was Tristan she needed. He was the only one who’d comprehend the heartache that tore her apart.

Logan held tight to his longtime friend, comforting her as best he could. He’d call Tristan tonight and have her home by morning. They both needed closure, and getting her to face her loss was the only way to commence healing.

“That’s it, Kat. It’s all right. Let it out.”

Realizing how she’d lost it, she tried to pull away from him, but he held her tighter still. “Don’t hide.”

“But I can’t…” she cried, desperately wanting to curl into a ball.

“You don’t need to be the strong Alpha’s sister. It’s just me. And I’m the Alpha who comforts you now. Tomorrow, you’ll be with Tris, and it’ll all be okay. I promise.” Purposefully, he let his power flow; calming waves emanated from his body to hers, wrapping her in a loving cocoon of peace. Refusing to let her retreat, he embraced her until she finally quieted. As her last tears fell, she looked up at him with awe, with the understanding that her friend was no longer her brother’s beta. No, he was their equal.

Logan wore the veil of responsibility as if he’d led the pack his entire life. He’d fought over a dozen wolves to earn the title, and it had been respectfully earned. A double-edged sword, loving or lethal, depending on the situation, there was no doubt about the male who held her in his arms. Capable of ameliorating pain or inciting it, he’d provide guidance and discipline to the wolves. As if she’d woken from a long sleep, Katrina looked into Logan’s deep blue eyes, shivering with the realization that he’d changed. Altogether deliberate and dominant, a new wolf had been born. He was Alpha.

Chapter Two

Logan sat on the cracked leather barstool watching his wolves celebrate. As he drank his beer, he smiled to himself, amused at the curveball life had thrown him. He felt exhilarated to be back in the French Quarter. After Marcel had died, he’d sold the Alpha’s Garden District pack house, per Tristan’s request. He was thrilled to be rid of the monstrosity, considering the death he’d caused and witnessed that disastrous night. There was no way he’d step one foot back into that house, let alone hold any pack activities there.

In contrast, his new home soothed his soul, reminding him of his Creole roots. Newly reconditioned, it mirrored his life. Long before Marcel’s demise, he’d started restoring the early nineteenth century three-story corner mansion. But his newfound position had accelerated the renovations, so he’d be able to live in the city. As much as he loved running wolf, the urbane food and culture were every bit a part of who he was. He’d made sure that his wolves were close by in adjoining townhouses on his street.

The only wolf he allowed to live with him was Dimitri. The quaint guest cottage on the property gave them both the closeness and privacy they needed. While he’d grown up with Dimitri, the connection between him and his beta had grown stronger over the past month. Their relationship had deepened in both respect and trust. And while Logan had initially felt awkward about his need for a beta, he soon embraced the bond. They’d shared more than a house. Pack challenges. Business. Women. Their intimacy had grown exponentially each day, but Logan no longer questioned why. Instinctively, he knew it was as natural as the sun rising.

After returning to the city and pulling into the carport, Logan insisted that he and Dimitri go to Courettes for drinks and celebration. He felt the wave of contentment that had washed through the pack. They had needed a leader, one determined to withstand multiple challenges, and he’d shown he was worthy. And in return, he needed to be with them and around them.

Courettes was an open-air, casual French Quarter establishment. What made the bar unique was that, thanks to a witch’s spell, only paranormals could see into the bar or enter. To humans, it simply looked like a quiet home with closed wooden shutters. Because tonight was an Acadian wolf celebration, few vampires and witches attended. As the zydeco band played, wolves danced sensually to the indigenous beats.

Sitting at the bar, Dimitri shot Logan a questioning look, realizing his mind was far from the party that was going on around him.

“Alpha, what’s up?”

“Nothin’. Just feels good to be back home in the city. Life is good,” Logan responded, gazing intently at the many she-wolves who’d begun to peel off some of their clothing as the atmosphere became more heated.

“You were amazing tonight.” Dimitri clapped his hand on Logan’s shoulder. “The pack, they’re calm. It’s finally over.”