Last Wolf Standing
“He ran harder, faster, driven by an insane sense of urgency, until the blinding moment when a hand grasped his shoulder from behind, jerking him to a stunning, stumbling halt.Whipping around to confront his attacker, he’d come face-to-face with his brother. Dean stood as tall and proud as Mason remembered him, his thick hair brushing his shoulders, a small scar at the corner of his mouth, a souvenir he’d carried since their roughhousing days as kids. He held a small woman in his arms, her face ...pressed to his chest, ebony hair streaming over his brawny arms. Her feet, so narrow and pale, looked infinitely fragile beneath the hem of her eyelet gown, the white cloth charred in places, stained with streaks of dirt and blood in others. Christ, he thought. It was Lori. She’d been found wearing that same gown the night the fire had taken her life.His brother was holding his dead wife in his arms.Mason squeezed his eyes shut, while anguish burned a raw wound in his chest, his body rigid with pain and fury for the horrors of the past.“You’re losing her, brother,”MoreLess
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