Shadow Wolf

  Shadow Wolf

  True Mates Generations Book 7

  Alicia Montgomery

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 Alicia Montgomery

  Edited by LaVerne Clark

  Cover by Jacqueline Sweet

  081720

  All rights reserved.

  About the Author

  Alicia Montgomery has always dreamed of becoming a romance novel writer. She started writing down her stories in now long-forgotten diaries and notebooks, never thinking that her dream would come true. After taking the well-worn path to a stable career, she is now plunging into the world of self-publishing.

  Also by Alicia Montgomery

  The True Mates Series

  Fated Mates

  Blood Moon

  Romancing the Alpha

  Witch’s Mate

  Taming the Beast

  Tempted by the Wolf

  The Lone Wolf Defenders Series

  Killian’s Secret

  Loving Quinn

  All for Connor

  The True Mates Standalone Novels

  Holly Jolly Lycan Christmas

  A Mate for Jackson: Bad Alpha Dads

  True Mates Generations

  A Twist of Fate

  Claiming the Alpha

  Alpha Ascending

  A Witch in Time

  Highland Wolf

  Daughter of the Dragon

  Shadow Wolf

  A Touch of Magic

  Heart of the Wolf

  The Blackstone Mountain Series

  The Blackstone Dragon Heir

  The Blackstone Bad Dragon

  The Blackstone Bear

  The Blackstone Wolf

  The Blackstone Lion

  The Blackstone She-Wolf

  The Blackstone She-Bear

  The Blackstone She-Dragon

  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

  Epilogue

  Please Review My Books

  Chapter One

  The longer he stayed here, the more Marc Delacroix realized that Lycans were not meant for the dry desert heat, and certainly not those who grew up in the wet, humid bayous of Louisiana. His inner wolf grumbled unhappily as a hot breeze hit them in the face.

  Yes, it’s uncomfortable, but would you rather be back there?

  The wolf lay down and let out a defeated whine.

  Yes, the deserts of Zhobghadi were too dry, the sun too bright, and the temperatures unbearable. But he would rather be here than stuck back in the hellhole he had called a home.

  “If you think any louder, you’ll wake Caspar up.”

  Delacroix blinked. “Apologies, Your Majesty.”

  Queen Desiree of Zhobghadi, formerly Desiree Desmond Creed of the New York Lycan clan, smirked up at him as she lay her infant son in his stroller, pulling the hood down to protect him from the blazing sun. “No jokes today, Delacroix? Are you sure you’re not sick?”

  The gentle teasing in her voice made the corners of his mouth turn up involuntarily. “I’m feeling just fine, mon petite.”

  Normally, he wouldn’t dare call the queen and mate to a dragon king such a nickname, but they were alone as they went for their mid-morning stroll in the royal gardens. Non, he liked his hide unburnt. But after a year of guarding the new young royal, they had certainly become close, along with another Lycan from her former clan, Jacob Martin.

  When Desiree Creed became queen of the tiny independent nation of Zhobghadi, her father, Sebastian Creed, had asked that Delacroix and Jacob accompany his daughter in order to watch over her and ease her transition into her new life. It was not only a great honor, but now, he had another powerful man ingratiated to him. While Delacroix was, technically, bound to the New York clan, he was allowed to go to Zhobghadi, with the caveat that he could be recalled anytime. That bargain he had struck with Nick Vrost was rock solid.

  “Then you’re worried about going back to New York.”

  And now the piper had come for payment. Two days ago, Vrost had sent the message that he was to return to America ASAP to join the Guardian Initiative, the special task force formed by the Alpha to fight their enemies.

  “Me, worried?” He snorted to make his point. “I’ll miss this position. It’s practically a vacation.” Glancing over at the covered stroller, his thoughts turned to the young prince and heir, not even three months old. “Watching over His Highness is one of the cushiest jobs I’ve had.” Though the thoughts of his previous jobs tried to surface in his mind, he pushed them away. His wolf growled, but he managed to calm it down. “Now I’ll have to do real work,” he said with a forlorn sigh.

  “And my female staff will miss your charming ways,” she replied in a wry tone. “Though I’ll be glad for the peace when you do leave. You know, you have every eligible woman in the palace sighing after you.”

  “And I enjoy having them sigh after me.”

  “Yet the only thing I hear are complaints about no one has yet to snag you.”

  He wagged his eyebrows at her. “Ah, but with so many women, there is no need to choose just one, non?”

  She raised a brow at him. “Did you choose any at all?”

  “I don’t kiss and tell, mon petite.”

  “From what I hear, you don’t kiss at all.”

  The comment came from nowhere and hit its mark, catching him so off guard that he couldn’t stop from wincing. Yes, he certainly wasn’t lacking in attention from women, and he could have his pick of the beautiful women in the palace. Could being the operative word. “Any other employer would have complained that I would have been unprofessional if I went after every available female around.”

  “I’m not just your employer, Delacroix.” Her expression turned serious. “I’d like to think I was your friend too.”

  Though they—him, the queen, and Jacob—had never mentioned it out loud, there had been a friendship between them since the beginning that didn’t have to be said. “I’m lucky you count me as a friend, Majesty.”

  She sighed. “And up goes that wall again.”

  “Wall?”

  Hand on her cocked hip, she stared at him. “You have this easygoing charm that most people fall for. Most think you shallow and that there’s nothing underneath that smile, especially with the way you flirt with anything in a skirt. But you can’t fool me. I’ve known you too long, Delacroix. And I know what I saw and what I felt when you took me into the shadows.”

  “I am shallow.” It was almost automatic, the way his defenses came up. The smile on his face widened so much that he thought his face would crack. “There’s nothing more to say.”

  “I’ve been around your kind my whole life. Why won’t you admit it?”

  “Admit what?”

  “What you are,” she stated. “You’re a hybrid. Half Lycan, half warlock. That’s why you can do magic.”

  He huffed, but did not answer her. Usually, he parried inquiries about his nature, but then again, no one had ever asked him directly.

  “I know the council views hybrids warily,” she continued. “But it’s not like anyone’s going to treat you differently. My b
est friends are hybrids and use their powers to protect our kind. Is it so bad to admit it?”

  He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything. Yes, powers could be wielded for good, but they could also be abused.

  “C’mon, D. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “I’m not ashamed,” he stated.

  “Then what’s wrong? Why won’t you just say you’re a hybrid and be done with it? It’s obvious that’s why Vrost recruited you.”

  Recruit. Right. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Were your parents … did something happen to your witch or warlock parent, which is why you didn’t realize you were a hybrid?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” Her expression was genuinely puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  “I never knew them.” He swallowed hard, feeling his wolf go still at the mention of his parents. “I was orphaned and taken in by the Pont Saint-Louis clan. If I am what you say I am, then there would be no one to confirm.” In fact, he’d never met a hybrid until he’d been paired with Jacob, who had the ability to create and manipulate fire.

  A gentle hand landed on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—Oh God, I’m so insensitive! I thought you were just being mysterious.”

  He hesitated, but he trusted her. And he would be gone here in a few days, so there would be no harm in revealing more. “I was about nine or ten when the shadows … called to me.” It was difficult to describe the feeling. It was like a pull, small at first, but growing bigger each day. The dark corners, whispering his name until he couldn’t ignore it. “I … disappeared into the shadow of this big oak tree on clan property. Then I reappeared a few feet away, from the shadows of an old shed.”

  “You must have been scared.”

  Actually, he wasn’t. It had felt right. However, it was what happened after that was all wrong. When it had been discovered what he could do … well, Remy Boudreaux was a bastard, and the fact that Delacroix was a child didn’t matter to him. No, he only cared about getting what he wanted, even if it meant making others do his dirty work.

  Delicate brows drew together, and her light green eyes pleaded at him. “I’m sorry for bringing it up. I understand why you might not want to talk about it. But your abilities … they could turn this war around for us.”

  This damn war with the mages, he growled inwardly. Granted, it was the mages who sought the destruction of his kind, and the Lycans were just trying to defend themselves. Still, he thought leaving his old clan behind would end the fighting and bloodshed. When he had made that pact with Nick Vrost, he didn’t realize he would be exchanging one master for another. The violence was exhausting, and he’d already paid so many times, as if his very nature was a crime. When would it be enough?

  “But he doesn’t want to go.”

  The sound of the low, masculine voice never failed to make his wolf uneasy, and if he were honest, himself. Turning toward the source of the words, he straightened his spine and bowed his head. “Your Majesty.”

  King Karim stood in the entryway to the garden, dressed in his formal military tunic decorated with medals on the chest. His mere presence agitated him and his wolf, even after all this time, which was probably because the king was one of only two dragon shifters in the world. The power he held—both as ruling monarch of Zhobghadi and the animal he kept tightly reined in himself—would have cowered anyone, yet the moment his gaze landed on his queen, he was a completely changed man. The seriousness on his face disappeared, leaving only tenderness and warmth.

  “Habibti,” he murmured against her temple as he walked to her and bent down. “How is your day?”

  “I’m great.” She leaned against him, and his posture relaxed. “Caspar is napping,” she nodded at the stroller next to her.

  “Don’t wake him up; he’ll only get cranky later.” He turned to Delacroix, his face turning serious again. “I could ask Vrost if he could spare you for another year, at least until Caspar’s first birthday. I’m sure Creed could speak on your behalf as well.”

  “That’s kind of you, Your Majesty.” He tipped his chin down reverently. “But it would only delay the inevitable.”

  “I hate that now I must lose two of my trusted guards,” the king grumbled.

  As soon as Delacroix received his marching orders from Vrost, Jacob had elected to go back to New York, not just to go back to his job at Lone Wolf Investigations, but to join the Guardian Initiative as well. He reasoned that it was time for him to go back home and that he was bored with life at the palace and wanted to be in the thick of the action. Delacroix wished he was as eager to fight, but he was glad his one true friend was going back with him.

  “I am curious though.” King Karim’s blue eyes pierced into him. “What made you decide to pledge to New York?”

  “He’s not pledged yet,” Queen Desiree explained. “He’s a transfer, and unless he’s a legacy transfer—meaning he had a parent or grandparent originally in the clan—it takes a few years. Five or six, I think.”

  “Five. I was a few weeks in before I came here. It was made clear to me by Vrost that my time here would not be counted.” But, as soon as he reached New York soil, he would certainly be counting down to the last second until it was over. The reason he didn’t mind going back was that the sooner he could start his service to the New York clan, the sooner he could finish it.

  “So, why the move?” the king repeated. “What did Vrost offer you that your original clan could not?”

  Delacroix pursed his lips, wondering what was the most diplomatic way he could tell the monarch to mind his own business.

  “Darling.” Queen Desiree placed a hand on his chest. “I think we’ve asked enough questions. How about we head back to our apartments, and we can have coffee until Caspar wakes up after his nap?” Keen light green eyes turned to Delacroix. “Can you meet me at the eastern doors at half past two? I’ll need you to accompany me to my meeting at the university.”

  The tightness in his chest eased, and he was grateful to the queen for not making him reveal any more about his past. He had already revealed more to her than he had to anyone, and it was vital no one knew about his life before now. About the things he’d done. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

  “Are you coming back with us?” King Karim asked with a cock of his head.

  “I shall follow, Your Majesty. I would like to enjoy the desert air for a few more moments.”

  The king’s brows knitted together, but he said nothing as he led his wife and child back into the palace.

  Delacroix turned around, turning his face up to the bright burning sun. Yes, he would miss this place. In the short time he’d been here, he’d become comfortable living in Zhobghadi. It was far removed from anything he’d known, and if anyone had told him that his life would be this way a few years ago, he wouldn’t have believed them.

  But this place wasn’t home. He couldn’t even dare dream of it as such, or any place, really. The bayou wasn’t home, and New York would never be home. New York was a way out. Many Lycans would have given their right arm to have been given an opportunity to be part of a powerful clan, but as soon as he was freed from his obligation, he would leave and become a Lone Wolf.

  Not many Lycans could keep up with such a lifestyle—not having a permanent place to live or a clan to support them, constantly trying to pass as human. But the Lone Wolf life had something no clan could give him—freedom. The freedom to do what he pleased, when he pleased. Because he’d rather die than be under the thumb of any Alpha. Never again. And his wolf agreed wholeheartedly.

  It didn’t take too long for Delacroix and Jacob to settle their affairs in Zhobghadi. While they had been integrated into life at the palace, there was no one either would consider a close friend. They were well-acquainted with the Almoravid, the elite superhuman guards who protected the royal family having been training with them, but the language barrier made it difficult to make friends.

 
; There were two people that had been difficult to say goodbye to. The first was Princess Amaya, King Karim’s young sister. The princess had been distraught as he and Jacob watched over her as closely as they did the queen. She had come to think of them as “her” bodyguards and friends too. She had cried when she heard the news and even begged them to stay, but eventually, she had accepted it, though only because Queen Desiree promised to bring her to New York for a visit soon.

  The second person was Ramin, King Karim’s ward, whom the two Lycans had taken under their wing. The young man was strong and ambitious and was determined to join the ranks of the Almoravid someday. He and Jacob had trained the eager young man, and Delacroix could already tell that he would achieve his goal and maybe even become captain of the guard. Ramin took the news of their impending departure well, thanking them both for the additional training and sparring that would surely help him within the coming months as he prepared for his exams.

  There was a small, private feast in their honor the night before they left. The captain of the Almoravid had been there, as well as most of the palace staff that they worked with. There was much feasting and drinking, and during the after party, he had rebuffed the advances of a particular amorous and drunk handmaiden who tried to put her hands down his pants. Jacob had merely shaken his head and laughed at him.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t like women or sex. Once upon a time, he was up to his ears in willing women. And although he still enjoyed the flirting and attention, since he left Pont Saint-Louis, he kept his focus razor sharp on his eventual goal of freedom. Sure, he’d let Nick Vrost and the other Lycans think he was some kind of flirt, but the truth was, he hadn’t been with a woman for more than a year. Being considered a shallow man whore was just one more way he could blend into the background—stay out of sight, unimportant, and serve his time until he could gain what he wanted most. Sex and women were too messy, and there was a danger to forming an attachment that could distract him.