The Pack Rules 3: Ruled by the Alpha (Werewolf Romance Serial) by Michele Bardsley Page B

losing my compact in the wrong place.
    “Your purse is in the nightstand. It will only take me a few minutes to get dressed.”
    “You’re going with me?”
    Grey nodded. “As you say, Arabelle—a husband supports his wife.”
     
    TO MY SURPRISE, I was not lead out in chains to a waiting werewolf cop car and hauled to the jail at the compound. First, Neela hadn’t gotten to use the manacles she’d actually brought. Grey said “no” in a tone that had Neela scowling, but backing away instantly. Second, there was no such thing as a werewolf cop car. And finally, the compound was accessed through underground tunnels that crisscrossed beneath the temple. Humans didn’t visit werewolf dens. Most humans didn’t know about shifters and those who did were usually the ones marrying into a pack.
    So, I hadn’t really known the location of the Shadow Pack’s fortification. It appeared to be connected to the temple. The passageways were lit by flickering torches that cast shadows onto the walls like spattered ink. As I was marched through the stone-carved channels, the entire experience took on a surreal quality.
    Neela led the way, followed by Colt. Grey and I walked side by side. Behind us loped two very large, very scary werewolves. After Grey and Aunt Lila had a private conversation away from the rest of us, the sweet woman hugged me good-bye and promised she would see me later. She had the determined look of a crusader as she hurried away, and I had feeling she was going to do her all-fire best to help me.
    If the alpha couldn’t make all this nonsense go away then I needed all the help I could get.
    I was guessing nearly an hour had passed before we’d reached the tunnel to the werewolf’s underground prison. Neela quickened her pace and within minutes we’d reached a heavily fortified door. The jail, I presumed. Neela opened it with an iron key she kept God knew where in that tight outfit of hers, and breezed through with a huge, fierce smile on her face. I think if the woman got any happier about my impending incarceration, she’d burst into song.
    Wrought-iron doors that seemed to belong in medieval dungeons lined each side. It was deathly quiet in here, only the sounds of shoes clattering on stone and my nervous breathing echoed within. I had no idea if any of the cells were occupied. If so, the prisoners were not the noisy type.
    A solid wall of red stone marked the end of the prison ward.
    A man stood there waiting for us. Like every werewolf I’d seen, he wore his sand brown hair long—all the way down to his waist. He wasn’t quite as tall or broad as Grey and Colt, but he had a very fit, muscled frame. He wore an Oxford shirt tucked into dress pants and a pair of high end designer shoes. He looked as though he’d just stepped out of a corporate office.
    “Mac.” Grey met the man and clapped him on the shoulder. “ Any problems?”
    “ Aunt Lila outlined your requests. I’ve taken care of everything.” Mac’s gaze held curiosity and sympathy. He clasped my hand, and I gave his a brief, firm shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Burke. I’m sorry for the circumstances.”
    “Thank you,” I said. “You’re very kind.”
    “What the hell is this?” Neela punctuated her question by striding into the open cell.
    Grey ignored her ire. “Mac is one of my betas. I have three who help with the day-to-day operations of the pack. He’s my go-to for damn near everything.” Grey nodded to the cell. “Thank you for making it comfortable for us.”
    “A fucking bed with silk sheets. Food? Wine? A goddamned library!” Neela stomped out of my prison, a buttery soft pillow clutched in her hand. “What the fuck, Grey? This is prison. My goddamned prison. You can’t turn it into a five-star hotel.”
    “Yes, I can.” Grey lazily turned toward the irate warden, his manner sug gesting that he found her boring. He even yawned. “I’m the alpha. This is my wife. It’s our honeymoon.”
    Neela