Conall's Mate: A Macconwood Pack Novel (The Macconwood Pack Novel Series Book 6) Read online

  Conall’s Mate

  A Macconwood Pack Novel

  C.D. Gorri

  Conall’s Mate

  A Macconwood Pack Novel #6

  by C.D. Gorri

  To all those guys who drive us wild, how we love to love you!

  del mare alla stella, C.D. Gorri

  Edited by T.P. of Book Nook Nuts

  Copyright 2020 C.D. Gorri, NJ USA

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, places, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either part of the author’s imagination and/or used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to a person, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights are reserved. No part of this book is to be reproduced, scanned, downloaded, printed, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of any materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other Titles by C.D. Gorri

  P.S

  Excerpt from Grizzly Lover:

  Description

  Tagline:

  "She was just another assignment, but what happens to this cocky Werewolf when she turns out to be so much more?"

  Blurb:

  Conall Truman loved being single. As one of the Alpha's Wolf Guard he had plenty of danger and excitement in his life. And when the need called for it, he had his pick of names in his little black book to satisfy any carnal cravings.

  Of course, finding a wingman was getting harder and harder with all his buddies getting mated. Even his own Wolf was starting to get ideas about finding a female, but he put the brakes on that train of thought. And fast!

  Being tied down to one woman was simply not for him. But fate has other ideas when he's assigned to rescue a Wolf from another Pack and she turns out to be more than just an important dignitary.

  Imagine his shock when the fiery woman with the curvaceous body and sassy mouth that was just begging to be kissed doesn’t want to be mated? This confirmed bachelor is finally willing to change his status if she'll have him.

  Elia Spark needs sanctuary from her domineering, and possibly criminally insane cousin. The search for the High Alpha has begun and her cousin will stop at nothing to tip the odds in his favor. Including forcing her to marry him. Can you say ick?

  Fleeing her home is the only way to save herself, but she wasn’t counting on meeting her mate in a cocky Werewolf with spiked blonde hair and a body that was too tempting for words.

  The bad boy might be her fated mate, but Elia was done cowering to the men in her life. If this Wolf Guard wanted her, he was going to have to work for it.

  Find out if Conall gets his mate in this next installment of the Macconwood Pack Novel Series!

  Prologue

  “Where is she?”

  Elia hid downwind under the staircase in the old castle where the Spark Claw Pack had made their home for over a thousand years. But all the warm and fuzzy feelings that typically came with thoughts of home, did not come for the twenty-seven year old she-Wolf.

  Things had taken an ugly turn early in her life, and home was the last place she’d ever want to be. The sounds of booted feet thudding along the hall made her skin crawl with unpleasantness. Theirs was a small, but honorable Pack of Werewolves, or it had been until he took leadership.

  She frowned at the memory of her poor father’s ruined legacy and her inability to stop the madness that had followed. While he’d been on his deathbed, Seamus Spark, Elia’s third cousin, had seized control of the small Irish band of Wolves.

  The second thing he did, after dumping her father’s body into the river without the proper ceremony and burial, was to execute Elia’s own fiancé. They were too young to wed, but their betrothal had been arranged when they were mere pups.

  Poor Archie. Her Wolf whined, but she silenced her beast.

  No one had stood up to Seamus or his thugs back then, and no one would now. Even as his insanity had him state his intention to claim her as mate. The very notion had her wanting to throw up the lamb and potato stew she’d had for lunch.

  It wasn’t entirely the Pack’s fault. Sure, she had been young, but Seamus was smarter than he looked. He’d systematically wiped out or converted the strongest of the Pack to his side so that by the time everyone had learned what he’d done, there was simply no one left to stop him.

  After that, a reign of tyranny unlike any she’d ever witnessed had begun. Poor Archie, she thought once more, biting back a tear for the young Wolf. As one of the few rare she-Wolves in the territory, Elia’s betrothal contract had been sealed when she was but a babe.

  It had been ten years since Archie had been cut down. Eighteen and green as the fresh cut grass that grew outside. Neatly trimmed and kept between the cottages that dotted the landscape of their small village, she frowned at the memory of when he used to ride the mower around his da’s place. Everyone inside the small village belonged to the Pack. Of course, most of the small cottages were abandoned now and falling to ruin.

  Pack membership had never been so low. That alone was the reason for her decision to leave. There was no one left to look over Seamus’ shoulder, and his disgusting plans for her were too much to bear alone. It was almost time for their quarterly run, but she doubted any would show up. At any rate, she didn’t plan to be there.

  Her heart squeezed at the thought. The days were growing shorter, and Fomhar was coming quickly. A September baby, Elia had always loved the season. Fall was when the harvest came in. A time of plenty and preparation.

  Normally, that meant she’d be helping the women with the pickling of vegetables and the drying out of herbs. The Pack had farms and plenty of sheep to keep everyone busy with their tasks. But this year would be different for her. Seamus had given her a deadline.

  Elia had until her twenty-eighth birthday to get used to the idea of marrying him. As if she’d ever be inclined to do such a thing! Anger made her Wolf push against her skin, but Elia kept control.

  “See if the bitch is in the garden,” Seamus ordered his men, and it was all she could do not to leap out and attack the bastard.

  But she had better control than that. Had made that mistake before and still bore the scar to prove it. It had happened back in the beginning. Right after Seamus had disrespected her father’s remains, Elia had attacked him in front of everyone.

  Seamus had ordered his men to hold her down in the town square. In front of one and all, he had taken a long, wicked sharp knife to her skin, bisecting her right eyebrow, and with the use of salt in the wound, he’d managed to leave a thin scar just there.

  It had faded over the years from an angry red to a light silver against her pale complexion, but she never forgot that she owed him for that. Someday, she promised herself, someday she would get her revenge. But not now.

  Elia waited until the sounds of their footsteps echoed down the far hall before creeping down to her room. This was it. She’d packed her bags and contact
ed her great uncle the week before.

  Rolf Kelly was still the Alpha of the Greyback Pack. Despite the disbandment of the Hounds of God, he remained a very powerful Werewolf. His grandson Leo was now being groomed to take over as Alpha, but Rolf still had control.

  That was good. It was what she’d needed. She couldn’t count on a boy she did not know, but Uncle Rolf had been kind to her many years ago when she’d summered with the Greyback. He’d told her then that she could always call when she needed him.

  Well, she needed him now. Elia had sent word via a trusted friend weeks ago, and the old silver Wolf had kept his promise. Uncle Rolf had readily agreed to help her. Of course, she hadn’t exactly explained everything, just asked him to smuggle her out of the country. That was all he needed to know for now.

  Truth was, she’d been hoping to meet the man’s granddaughter, the infamous Grazi Kelly. She was practically a legend, though just a teenager herself. The American she-Wolf had done so much in her time. If only Elia could say the same.

  Not that she was complaining exactly. Grazi Kelly deserved her legend. After all, she was directly responsible for Elia being so close with her own black-furred she-Wolf. A connection she secretly relished more with each passing day and night. The young woman had ended the Curse of St. Natalis that had kept all Werewolves enslaved to the cycle of the moon for a thousand years.

  For the first time in an age, Wolves the world over were able to communicate with and shift into their animal forms without restriction. It was a bloody miracle. Of course, that didn’t matter to the new Alpha.

  Seamus only allowed the rest of the Pack to turn during the full moon. He was mean-spirited and spiteful. Not able to control his Shift after the Curse of Natalis had been broken, he’d been captured by a hunter, and his left hindleg had been badly damaged by the trap.

  At first, he’d worn his injury like a hated warning sign. Spouting stuff and nonsense about how none of them could handle the full presence of their beasts since their own so-called Alpha had almost succumbed to his animal half.

  It was crazy talk, but many still feared their inner Wolves. Elia knew better. Her Wolf was the only one she trusted. The man was no true Alpha. Not a leader and not strong. He was an opportunistic bully. Plain and simple.

  Everything that fell out of the man’s thin lips was a load of shite, but the elders were too scared of him to do anything. His bullying tactics had caused doubt and fear to run rampant. During the past decade, he and his thug Theon ran roughshod over the small Pack to the point where most had fled during the last few months.

  Now that Packs the world over were putting forth candidates for a High Alpha, Seamus Spark had begun to fear for his position. Greed and an overdeveloped sense of importance, in Elia’s humble opinion, led him to believe he was the man for the job. Imagine that! Had he no shame?

  The answer was simple. No. The dirty rat actually thought he had a shot at becoming the topmost ranked Alpha in all the world. Talk about delusional! And being the bigmouth Elia was, she told him so, hence, his brilliant plan to mate her.

  “You, cousin, are the direct heir to the strongest Alpha in these parts. Were it not for him being weakened by his mate’s death, your da would’ve been High Alpha for certain.”

  “He wouldn’t have cared about such things, Seamus. This Pack was his life.”

  “No, your mother was his life,” he spat on the ground, “that’s why he didn’t deserve to be Alpha. Now, that I am the leader of the Spark Pack, I don’t see why I should stop there.”

  “Are you kidding? Half your Wolves have left! Who is going to be left to follow you to the High Alpha Meet?”

  “You know, cousin, you might be fat, but you’re not dumb. That’s why I’ll be taking you to wife. How’s that now, eh? Got something to say?”

  Between Seamus’ sneering and Theon’s, his Beta’s, growling, Elia had zipped her lip and fast.

  “That’s what I thought cousin,” he growled, “You have till your birthday to publicly accept my claim to take you for my mate.”

  “Seamus, please,” she begged but stopped when she saw the manic glee enter his cold eyes.

  He’d always liked it when she’d begged him. Even when they were pups and he’d knock her down and sit on her chest until she couldn’t breathe. Just a little roughhousing he’d say when she’d run back home red-faced and crying. His cruelty hadn’t ended there. When she’d started puberty he’d always find ways to taunt her around the village.

  The year she’d become woman and started her cycle he’d followed her home from the market one day and shoved her against a tree. She could still feel his rough hands when he’d shoved her sweater over her plain cotton bra and groped her already large breasts painfully.

  It was that incident which spurred on her first Change. The Shift from teenage girl to hulking black Wolf had not been a pleasant one, though now she had a much easier time of it.

  That first full moon of her Change, Elia’s Wolf had tracked down her smaller and nastier cousin, and boy, had she given him a run for his money. His Wolf had been scrawny and smaller compared to hers. The beast in her remembered his brutal treatments and had taken offence. Vengeance had been served with a nice chunk of fur and skin right off his muzzle with a swipe of her massive claws.

  He’d healed of course, but after that, he’d given her a wide birth. Elia had enjoyed two years of peace, but then her mother fell ill. Her father soon after. By the time, her parents both died, Seamus was already back in the village. Bigger, nastier, and with more power than ever.

  And now he’d decided to use her in the worst possible way. She shook with fury just thinking about it. A union between cousins was perhaps acceptable once upon a time, but not now.

  No. Elia was not having any part of that sinful union. Thus her communication with Rolf Kelly, and the plans to secret her away to America had been born. She hadn’t told the old Wolf everything. It still shamed her to know her father’s stoutest supporters had upped and abandoned her like that, but she would tell the Alpha in America everything.

  It would be hard, but worth it. Nerves had her beast grumbling and pacing inside her mind’s eye, but she kept a tight leash on her Wolf. Tonight was the night. She exhaled a sigh of relief as she packed the few precious belongings she had managed to keep hidden from Seamus. Cherished items that had belonged to her dearly departed parents.

  Her favorite was her mother’s gold locket that held pictures of her and her da inside. She didn’t dare wear it in front of that brute Seamus. Not after he’d swiped her mother’s wedding rings from her jewelry box, and anything else of value he could get his slimy paws on. No, Elia had been smart with these treasures. She’d hidden the locket under a loose floorboard in her childhood bedroom along with her Da’s lucky coin.

  Afraid she’d lose the small thing, Elia had managed to fashion a twine bracelet for it on one of the many nights she’d crept away to the woods for a peaceful sleep. It was hard to rest when your worst enemy slept under your roof. But Elia was done hiding.

  Escape was just hours away and with it something she’d always wanted but had rarely felt in her lifetime, freedom. What would it be like to be able to take a breath without fearing someone would overhear and report back to her cousin?

  What would it be like for her to wake up when she wanted, wear what she wanted, do what she wanted? Those kinds of silly everyday choices that others found mundane would be a glorious thing indeed.

  She looked down at the cargo pants she’d smuggled out of hiding and her ivory wool sweater. Never again would she wear the hated house dress and slippers Seamus insisted all the females wear. Like they were all 1950s housewives or some such shite.

  No more. She planned to wear whatever the heck she wanted from then on, including both the coin and locket. The seconds ticked by agonizingly slow, but she wouldn’t rush it. Her freedom was too precious a thing for that. Her hand felt heavy with the locket and coin fisted tightly inside it and she gave them one last
look, before tucking both into one of the zippered pockets of her pants. Then she checked her watch again.

  One hundred and twenty minutes to go. Growling impatiently, Elia ran her hands over her thick dark locks and tied the piece of cord she wore to hold it out of her face tightly. The rendezvous hour was still a while off, and she needed to avoid her cousin and his eejit followers.

  They were nothing but bullies, the whole rotten lot of them. Marry her scoundrel cousin? As if she would ever do such a thing. Thank goodness for Uncle Rolf and the Macconwood Pack.

  Elia would rather die than be mated to that man, but now she wouldn’t have to.

  Meanwhile back in Macconwood, New Jersey..

  “Yes,” Rafe Maccon held the receiver close to his ear as he listened intently to Rolf Kelly.

  The current Alpha Regent of the Greyback Pack of Tyrone County Ireland was something of an ally of the Macconwood Pack. Rafe knew the man’s granddaughter and was eternally grateful to her for breaking the Curse of Natalis that had kept all Werewolves prisoner and bound to the phases of the moon.

  He owed the man. Of course, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t bust his balls when given the chance. They were Werewolves, not a bunch of Cat Shifters, he thought and ignored the hiss of his wife’s pet Butterscotch. The confounded tabby seemed to know what he was thinking!

  Wicked feline. She drove half his Wolf Guard nuts. But Charley loved her housecat and so did his pups. The older Werewolf was giving him the particulars and he couldn’t help but rib the guy some more.

  “Hang on, Rolf, the girl is in Ireland but you need us to get her? I thought you lot thought us Americans were money hungry, bible-thumping, political opportunists?”