A Wolf's Tale (Book #4) Storm Of Vengeance

Chapter 1

After years of pain, betrayal, loss, and broken pieces, it's hard to go back to the way you once were. But is that even possible? Could you ever remember life the way it was before?

Misty wondered these things, sitting next to a worn grave. The dirt that held her precious mate. The dirt that held Rascal. Her Rascal.

Even three years later, the anger that flooded her veins, the strong taste of revenge was still in her mouth.

Revenge...

It sounded so sweet.

So good.

So satisfying.

The older wolves keep trying to tell Misty that revenge wouldn't make her feel better. Tyrant, especially, warned her that it would only cause her more pain, more regret.

But would it though?

First, Misty loses her brother, causing her parents to disown her and leave without a glance over their shoulder. Second, Jumper sacrifices himself for her life. Third, and worst of all, Rascal dies a gruesome death...

And it was all because of Mystique...

Misty clenched her paws. That horrid she-wolf. Dare she even be called a wolf? Monster was more like it. Disgusting, heartless, blind. Mystique is all of that.

Misty was furious that she couldn't deal a blow harmful enough to kill that wolf. The condition Rascal had been in when he died made Misty wish she had hurt Mystique in terrible ways.

That wolf didn't deserve to live. Not when the innocent died due to her filthy ambitions.

Mystique would die.

Misty made that promise three years ago.

She remembered it every day, held onto it with teeth and claws. She seared it in her mind, she wouldn't forget it.

Action needed to be put in play.

And, even after three years, Misty was finally ready to track down that scum and kill her.

"Ma?"

Misty jumped at the voice. She swiveled around, meeting the eyes of her oldest son.

Storm walked over and sat beside her. His dark gray coat glossy and shining. The muscles underneath strong and powerful. Overall, he was in great condition.

Misty had to smile. Rascal would be proud of her. She brought up their pups alone, putting aside her thoughts of revenge to care and provide for them. They are the only family she has. She would protect them with her life.

Storm sighed while staring at the grave in sorrow. His silver eyes trained on the dirt which held his father.

"It's not good for you to be sitting up here, thinking about all that's happened." He broke the silence.

"I don't want to forget." Misty murmured. "It gives me the determination, the motivation to carry out my revenge."

"Ma, you haven't been listening to what everyone is warning you about." Storm shook his head. "It's been three years. Mystique and her followers are long gone. Who knows where they could be by now? It doesn't matter anymore, they are long gone, evil is out of the forest. You have me and Ash and River and Clover. What more could you possibly be looking for?"

"Satisfaction." Misty tried not to growl. "I want to avenge your father." She looked at Storm, eyes glassy. "I had to watch him die. I had to watch him lay there and bleed. I had to watch the life drain out of him. Because of his death, I won't feel better until I get my revenge."