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    Wolf's Consort: Pack Wars, #1
    Wolf's Consort: Pack Wars, #1
    Wolf's Consort: Pack Wars, #1
    Ebook56 pages49 minutes

    Wolf's Consort: Pack Wars, #1

    By Celeste Anwar

    5/5

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    About this ebook

    To broker a temporary peace for the holidays, Alyssia gives herself as consort to her pack’s enemy—Killian Sauvage, Alpha of the Red Wolves. Killian takes great pleasure in marking his enemy’s daughter as his own—even if it could start a war between the red wolves and the coyotes.

    Rating: Previously released in Alpha for the Holidays, a two-time USA Today Best-Seller

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAndrea DePasture
    Release dateMar 8, 2017
    ISBN9781386094609
    Wolf's Consort: Pack Wars, #1

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      Book preview

      Wolf's Consort - Celeste Anwar

      Pack Wars 1:

      Wolf’s Consort

      Celeste Anwar

      © copyright Celeste Anwar

      Originally published in Alpha for the Holidays, a two-time USA Today Best-Seller

      Cover art by Eliza Black © copyright March 2017

      Table of Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Terms:

      père: father

      Oui: Yes

      chère: dear. Beloved

      boude: pout

      Chapter One

      Louisiana snow—rain in this part of the country’s mild winter—pounded on the tin roof of Cyril Chauveau’s hundred-year-old home.  Long leaf pines shuddered beneath the torrential onslaught, but Cyril paid little heed to the storm roiling outside.  His attention fixated on the enemy of his coyote clan—Killian Sauvage, Alpha of the Red Wolves.

      Behind Cyril stood his brood of sons: Etienne the eldest; Grayson; and his youngest son Bastien.  His daughter Alyssia was not present, as tradition bespoke the meeting to be held between the males of his pack—females held no sway amongst these matters.

      Killian Sauvage stood with his brother Antony and his cousins Alessandro and Baptiste Devaux.  They were all of a similar height, build, and coloring—all with nearly jet black, wavy hair; eyes that glittered with hidden agendas; and dark, swarthy complexions from logging their lands and gaining a fortune.  Lands that should have belonged to his family had not his grandfather lost most of his holdings in a backwoods game of chance that left them reeling for generations.  Cyril had spent much of his life regaining his pack’s dominion over the south—chasing the sniveling Red Wolves back to regain control of this parish.

      You mentioned bartering a peace agreement for Christmas, Killian, Cyril began, touching his fingertips together in a steeple.  What makes you think we want peace with you?

      A muscle ticked on Killian’s jaw, and Cyril smiled with satisfaction at the opportunity to provoke his enemy. So far they’d kept bloodshed to a minimum to avoid incurring suspicions of the police.

      My clan grows weary of attacks on operations.

      Cyril feigned shock.  And what has that got to do with my clan?

      Killian ignored him. We have a quota to fill before the holiday.  I will agree to hold back retaliations if you can agree to the terms.

      And what would those be? Cyril asked, narrowing his eyes. He sensed his sons’ growing tension behind him.

      Give me your daughter through the holiday. I return her unharmed to you.  You carry on with your machinations after the new year like old business.

      Cyril barked a laugh.  His sons joined in and stopped as Cyril’s mirth ceased.  Why on earth would you want her?  She’s hardly your type. Dumpy and weak. Have you even seen her? This is a trick. What do you really want?

      Killian smiled a feral, white toothed grin that flashed in his soulless black eyes.  Peace, Cyril. A brief reprieve, nothing more.

      You sure you aren’t looking for a consort? The way I hear it, everyone’s been asking when you’re going to make pups.

      When and if I take a consort will be no business of yours.

      Cyril slowly tapped his fingertips together as if contemplating the proposal, but he was not.  He rather enjoyed knowing his pack had made themselves a nuisance enough to the red wolves to garner talks of a peace treaty at all.  And as much as he loathed his daughter’s sniveling disposition, she was still his only daughter, and he wasn’t about to turn her over to the red wolves and risk the girl breeding an unwanted pup.  Not that he pictured Killian or any of the others having interest in Alyssia—she was too meek and fat to garner much attention.  I’ll have to take this into consideration. You’ll hear from me. Bastien will see y’all out.

      I need an answer now, Killian said.

      "Then it is no. No, you cannot have my daughter.  No, we

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