Heart of the Wolf Read online

  Heart of the Wolf

  True Mates Generations Book 9

  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

  051720

  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

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Please Review My Books

  Chapter One

  About two years ago …

  “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?”

  Isabelle Anderson flipped her long, dark glossy locks over her shoulder as she turned around toward the source of the voice. Oh God, she thought with a matching mental eye roll.

  The man grinning at her was cute, she supposed, but attractive men salivating over her was an everyday occurrence. She had barely walked past the bouncers, and it was starting already. She was not in the mood. Not tonight.

  Ugh. Security really needed to be more careful of who they let in. Although Blood Moon was mostly a Lycan club, a couple of humans still tended to wander in, and there really was no reason to keep them out without outing themselves. The world outside didn’t really know about the existence of wolf shifters living among them, and it had been that way for centuries.

  Punishment from the Lycan High Council for revealing their secret was severe. This guy’s fashion sense and cloying cologne were a bigger crime, she snickered to herself. His distinct lack of scent meant he was definitely human, according to her Lycan senses. Her she-wolf sneered at him, at the audacity that this human dared come near them.

  “You’ll have to try much harder than that,” she said in a disinterested voice.

  He looked taken aback, obviously thinking she would fall at his feet. Not in that outfit, she thought distastefully. Not even one classic piece. Did this guy even live in Manhattan? Brooklyn, she guessed. Or Queens. Yikes.

  “Did I say, pretty?” the man said nervously. “I meant gorgeous. Like a goddess from heaven—”

  She snorted. “You think I haven’t heard that before?”

  The guy made some sound of protest, but she ignored him and made her way to the bar. Thankfully, it wasn’t crowded. It was early yet, not even dinnertime, so the club was sparse; usually, it was packed wall-to-wall with young, single, and attractive people, all bumping and grinding to the beat of the current popular dance tune.

  As a rule, she didn’t show up to any club before eleven. But tonight, her parents were hosting a dinner for some VIP and pressed her to come. Another boring dinner party where boring people talked about politics or finance. She hadn’t yet decided if she was going, but since she lived in the same building as her parents, she ducked out early before they could nag her about it. Plus, she really could use a drink. Of course, as a Lycan, it took a lot of alcohol to get her drunk, but she did enjoy that short buzz after and feeling so grown up ordering a drink at a bar. Speaking of which …

  “Can I get a vodka martini?” she said to the bartender.

  The bartender chuckled. “Slumming it tonight, Ms. Anderson?”

  Her eyes narrowed. Definitely Lycan. Her wolf could sense it. But then again, most of the staff here were shifters. “Excuse me?” He knew who she was. Of course he did. She spent almost every weekend here, plus her father, Grant Anderson, owned this club, and he was also the Alpha of New York.

  “Why aren’t you in the VIP section?” He nodded at the cordoned off area at the other end of the dance floor. “You could be having drinks served to you like you usually do, instead of having to elbow your way to the bar like the rest of the unwashed masses.”

  How dare you, she wanted to scream. The employees here probably gossiped about her all the time. One word about his rudeness, and she could have him fired. But she really didn’t have the energy tonight. “I didn’t feel like it,” she said with a shrug. “Can you make it a double? And hurry up, will you?” Her nostrils flared as she stared at him.

  The humor left his expression. “Coming right up, Ms. Anderson.”

  With a disinterested sigh, she took her phone out of her purse. As usual, it was blowing up with notifications from across her social media platforms, probably comments from her last post before she left the house. She had taken a photo of her outfit for the evening, a short white bandeaux dress, white fur coat, five-inch white heels—all couture from head to toe, of course—and posted it online. But sadly, even the hundreds of likes and comments from her followers weren’t enough to cheer her up. Swiping them away, she checked her inbox.

  I’m almost there, read the last message from Maxine Muccino, her cousin and best friend, followed by a liberal amount of smiling and sweating emojis. Isabelle had texted Maxine an hour ago to “get your ass out of the house and meet me at Blood Moon.”

  “Yeah, right.” While Isabelle loved Maxine with all her heart, her cousin was one of those people who texted that they were “around the corner” when really, they were just getting out of bed. Which meant she’d be alone for at least another hour.

  A strange feeling washed over her, and the hairs on the back of neck prickled. It felt like someone was watching her. Which was weird because she was used to people looking at her, but this was different. Before she could figure out who was watching her, the sound of glass clinking on top of the bar caught her attention.

  “Here you go.” The bartender nodded at the cocktail glass in front of her.
/>
  “Thanks.” She slid a bill at him. “Keep the change.” Not bothering to wait for the guy to thank her, she walked away from the crowded bar. But where to go? Nowhere really. So, she stood at one of the empty cocktail tables at the edge of the dance floor, set her purse on the top, and sipped at her drink. Maybe I should just go home.

  “Oh God.” The thought of spending an evening by herself in her apartment made her knock back the rest of her drink in one gulp. You’re only twenty-one, she reminded herself. She would rather die than be alone at home like some loser, just because she was heartbroken. He’s just a guy. With a snap of her fingers, she could have any man on his knees, panting after her.

  Okay, so maybe Zac Vrost wasn’t just any guy. He was the perfect man—tall, blond, and hot—plus he was probably going to inherit a big chunk of the Vrost family fortune, not to mention his father was Beta of the New York clan.

  They would have made a gorgeous couple—him, Nick and Cady Vrost’s favorite golden boy, her, the darling youngest daughter of not one, but two Alphas. It should have been a match made in heaven.

  At least it was, until Astrid Jonasson ruined it all.

  How Zac could have picked that … that … fashion-challenged little nobody was beyond her. Astrid and her family didn’t even rank high in the Lycan hierarchy nor were they long-standing members of the New York clan. She probably wouldn’t know what bronzer was if it hit her in the head and constantly wore gross second-hand clothing from the Salvation Army.

  Yet, Zac picked Astrid. It was like shopping at Zara instead of Prada, or vacationing in Daytona Beach instead of the Maldives, or, she thought with a shudder, drinking boxed wine instead of champagne.

  And they had just gotten married two weeks ago. The thought made her wish she had got herself a second drink.

  Of course, the only thing that soothed her ego at losing out to someone who probably couldn’t even pronounce Christian Louboutin was the fact that Zac and Astrid were True Mates. It was something no one can deny. And when Maxine asked if she was depressed about losing Zac to Astrid, she laughed it off. “Well, fate intended them to be together. How could I possibly compete with that?”

  That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. Especially when she had her heart set on her own happy ever after with Zac. It had been so clear in her mind—he would work all day and go to meetings, and she could stay home and lunch with the ladies while focusing on her thriving social media modeling career. Maybe she’d start her own charity. Something with dogs or cats or other cute animals. And when she was ready, have a pup or two. I would have looked so cute in maternity clothes and matching mommy-and-me outfits. And once he or she was born, she could foist them off on the nanny, and she could work on getting her pre-pregnancy body back.

  But now …

  I’m young, hot, and every man wants me, she reminded herself. She really needed to stop moping over Zac. He was too old for her anyway. And she was way too young and free to settle down.

  Biting her lip, she marched toward the door. The cold blast of air as she stepped outside felt like a cool balm. As a Lycan, her body adjusted to the temperature easily, and while she didn’t need to close her fur coat, she did it anyway out of reflex. She was always careful—as all Lycans were—to ensure none of the humans suspected that wolf shifters were living among them. Her father was especially cautious in protecting them from unwanted attention.

  Unfortunately, that was what they had been clashing about recently—because how was she supposed to amass even more social media followers to advance her career when they wouldn’t let her do any media interviews, photo shoots, or magazine covers?

  Ugh. Maybe I won’t go to that dinner after all. She checked her phone again. Where the hell was Maxine? If she had her driver, she could have sent him to fetch her. But unfortunately, the Lycan drivers and bodyguards assigned to her were loyal to her father, and then he could have easily tracked her down and demanded she attended that dinner. Thus, she had to take a—shudder—cab here all by herself, and now, she’d have to take another one to leave. But the street was empty, and there was no taxi in sight. Ugh, where are these cab drivers when you need them?

  Suddenly, that feeling from earlier in the club came back. It wasn’t just the hair on the back of her neck that stood up, but also on her arms. Her wolf, too, went very still.

  Pivoting on her heel, she turned around. Her breath caught in her throat when she realized someone really was watching her. A tall figure was casually leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, looking straight at her. An unknown thrill pulsed down her spine as they locked gazes. Then her wolf did something unusual—it leaned its ears forward, front paws extending, then let out an excited yip.

  Surprise flashed across the man’s face for a brief second, meaning he sensed her wolf too. Lycan, then. But who was he?

  As the daughter of the Alpha, she knew most of the Lycans in New York—those worth knowing anyway. But she would have definitely remembered meeting this man before.

  His hair seemed to have all shades of brown and blond mixed together. Like most Lycans, he was tall and well-built, but his face—it was like the face of an angel, half-covered with a beard that wasn’t overly thick, but enough to give him a dangerous, rough edge. Arrogantly, uncommonly handsome, pretty even. But there were definitely some bad boy vibes coming from him, judging from the two nose studs marring his almost perfect face and the tattoos curling out from his shirt that extended past his wrists, not to mention the well-scuffed riding boots, tight jeans, even tighter shirt, and the leather jacket he wore. Wow, he wasn’t even trying to pass for human in the middle of winter.

  “Are you gonna stare at me all night, princess, or are you going to say hello?”

  The deep, gravelly voice sent heat straight to her lower stomach, and her wolf yowled. She, however, did not appreciate his crassness. Angel? What was she thinking? Fallen angel, maybe. Lucifer himself, who clawed his way up from hell.

  With a short, harumpph, she turned around and fished her phone out of her pocket. I should have downloaded Uber before I left. Or had Maxine teach me how to use it. Hopefully a cab would pass by soon, and she could be anywhere but here.

  “Didn’t anyone teach you it’s rude to stare at people, then ignore them when they call you out?”

  He’d moved so swiftly, she hadn’t realized he was right behind her until she felt the warmth of his breath by her ear. She stiffened her spine and turned her head up at him. However, when she stared up into his eyes, all thought left her head.

  His eyes—were they green or gold? She couldn’t quite say. Maybe both. Gold in the center with large flecks of green. Her knees went weak, and for a second, he seemed taken aback again, but he composed himself quickly. Much quicker than she did because she stumbled backward.

  A strong, muscled arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her up against him. An involuntary gasp escaped her mouth as she was pressed up against a warm, hard body. Though she was wearing her highest heels, her face was still at level with his chest. When she took in a deep breath, she got a whiff of his masculine scent—rain, musk, and leather. A shock went through her as an unfamiliar sensation coursed through her veins. She’d never felt anything like it before, but it was something she could only describe as hunger. But not for food.

  “Let go of me.” Unfortunately, she said it in a much breathier tone than she’d intended. “Please.”

  Gold-green eyes burned with challenge, but his grip loosened. “Whatever you want, princess.”

  She disentangled herself from him, but it didn’t stop her heart from thudding wildly against her rib cage. Her wolf yowled unhappily at losing contact. What the hell was going on?

  Straightening her shoulders and pulling her coat tighter around herself, she looked up at him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. And I’ve met most of the New York and New Jersey Lycans.” Usually, Lycans from one clan couldn’t travel into another’s without permission from the Alpha. But, sinc
e her mother was also the New Jersey Alpha, members of the two clans enjoyed free travel between territories.

  He grabbed at the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up, exposing a set of defined abs. Her mouth went dry as a desert as she observed the taut, golden skin of his stomach, and the sprinkling of hair disappearing under the waistband of his jeans. A chuckle knocked her out of her daze, and she felt heat flood her cheeks.

  A golden brow quirked up. “Had enough?”

  The image of the wolf tattoo over his hip seared into her brain, and she spun around. So, he was a Lone Wolf. Lone Wolves were a special type of Lycan clan—or rather, they lacked a clan and territory. Most were nomadic, though some stayed put in neutral territory. They were, however, allowed to move within territories as long as they announced themselves should anyone ask them why they were in said territory or meet an Alpha.

  “Sorry,” he said scornfully. “You know, for getting my grubby Lone Wolf hands on ya.”

  Her heart clenched for whatever his situation was, but outrage bubbled within her. “Excuse me?” She whirled around to face him again. While admittedly, she could be particular about what she wore or where she went, she would never think less of anyone who had no control over what they were. “Do you think I’m one of those Lycans who look down on Lone Wolves? Just because I’m part of a clan doesn’t mean I discriminate against those who aren’t.