The Werewolf’s Bride: The Pack Rules #1 Read Online Free PDF Page A

her gaze. She wasn’t intimidated by me, but neither was she stupid enough to threaten me outright. “I’m his mate.”
    “Mate,” she spat. “Humans are not our equals. The Choosing does nothing more than weaken our pack with inferior stock.”
    I didn’t know how to respond to her vitriol, so I said nothing. The Choosing was the ceremony held every twenty years in Bleed City, Nevada. It was part of a pact made by the townspeople nearly 150 years ago. The Shadow Pack, in exchange for mating with our eldest daughters, offered protection, shelter, and food to the town. I was the eldest daughter in my family by default—my twin sister (older by six minutes) had committed suicide three years ago.
    And so here I was, one of the town’s tributes—except that I belonged to the alpha, whether I wanted to or not. For me, the Choosing had become a mere formality.
    Oh. Neela’s fury made sense now. I’d been chosen by the alpha, and she had not. I wasn’t sure how to feel about the rival standing in front of me, vibrating with what I’d call homicidal rage. Grey would be my husband, but I didn’t yet know him. He inspired within me contrary and riotous feelings, the strongest of which was pulse-pounding desire. So, I supposed I knew one thing about my werewolf groom: I wanted him.
    And so did Neela.
    “Why are you here?” I asked.
    She snorted. “Because I’m in charge of the enforcers and, apparently, your bony ass.” She shoved off from the wall. “Let’s go.”
    She didn’t wait for me to agree. Instead, she sailed past me and bounded down the stairs with the grace so prevalent among her kind. I followed more slowly. Partially because I still ached from fighting off the werewolf that had nearly taken my life. And my muscles—not to mention my emotions—had not recovered sufficiently from Grey’s thorough and enjoyable scenting. An added bonus: I knew taking my time would irritate Neela.
    Mission accomplished. Neela’s entire being crackled with annoyance and impatience. Her narrowed gaze lasered in on me, and I had the distinct impression she was fighting the urge to rip out my throat.
    “You look lovely, my dear,” said Aunt Lila. She swept past Neela as though the formidable woman was nothing more than a piece of furniture. “Do you have everything you need?”
    “All my packed boxes are at my house, but I didn’t get to say good-bye to my family.”
    Aunt Lila offered me a kind smile. “Grey’s already arranged to have your things shipped to the pack’s compound. You’ll see your parents before the Choosing begins.” She grasped my hand and squeezed. “Being mated to a werewolf isn’t the same as going to prison, Belle. You’ll be able to visit. You can email and call any time you like.”
    I nodded, but my stomach pitched anyway. I’d been raised in Bleed City, soaked in its history, mentally Superglued into its ideals, its expectations. I would not run away from my duty. Unlike my sister Carolyn, who’d chosen to hang herself rather than accept her fate, I was not a coward.
    But that didn’t mean I wasn’t scared.
    Fear crawled in my belly like a thousand creeping spiders. As I’ve said before, knowledge is not the same as experience. Grey had already explained that our first mating—indeed, probably all our matings—would be animalistic. In addition to that worry, I had to also consider what I’d be expected to do as the alpha’s wife. America’s government was a complex, gnarled mess, but it had nothing on werewolf politics. Of course, there was a lot less red tape when it came to carrying out justice. Werewolves guilty of death-penalty offenses did not sit in prison cells for years. They were beheaded, their hearts carved out, and their bodies burned. Werewolves had a real thing about hearts. And souls. A burned body lost its soul forever. After death, they wanted to join their revered ancestors. Literally. Shifters were placed in underground catacombs—their dead as