Darkest Wolf

By: Rebecca Royce
The Westervelt Wolves Book 7


Rex Kane has always known he was different than his brothers, down to the fact that when he shifts into his wolf form, his coat is completely black. Always in trouble, he is given one more chance by his brother Tristan, the alpha of the Westervelt pack, to bring back to their island a witch who can stop some of the magical assault that has plagued their war-torn home. Rex knows he has one last chance to set things right. Everything depends on him and he cannot fail.

Elizabeth Willow has been cursed to look so repulsive no human eyes can bear to view her. Raised in a gentle coven of witches, she is ill prepared for the realities of the harsh world she now lives in. Raised to mistrust wolf-shifters as witch-killers, she cannot seem to help being drawn to Rex. Even if she doesn't believe she is his so-called mate. He can see her as she really is and is the first person to look her in the eyes in years.

Although she is not naturally devious, she sees no choice but to use Rex to gain her own freedom and her family’s safety.

Together, Rex and Elizabeth will see just how evil the people around them can be. If they can trust their hearts, perhaps they will survive another night. If not, both of their battles will never be won.


To the readers who have made Westervelt so fun for me to write. Thank you, thank you, thank you for the e-mails and messages. I love the wolves too!

Chapter One

The smells of human overindulgence wafted through his nose, making him want to turn on his heel and go out the way he’d gone in.

Rex Kane observed the scene before him with a strange amount of detachment, considering he was currently seeing his mate for the very first time. Two women—no, witches, he corrected—lay in strangely positioned forms frozen on the floor. Twins, he would guess them to be. Possibly even identical. He sniffed the air. Yep, they had matching scents. They were the very rare, but absolutely possible oddity, of identical twins. He would never be able to tell them apart, not by smell anyway.

His gaze moved slowly over the diner’s kitchen. At the moment, the twin witches offered no threat to him. They’d been frozen. He had no idea how long they’d stay immobile and, truth was, he didn’t particularly care. Witches didn’t frighten him. They annoyed the piss out of him—there was a difference.

The unconscious man, who, unless his nose was completely off, would wake up again shortly, also didn’t bother him. No, the elderly gentleman seemed to be temporarily stunned. He was also human. Not a threat.

But Rex did feel nervous and, considering how rarely anxiety bothered him, he was willing to acknowledge the sensation for a few brief seconds before he would deny it had ever happened completely. He raised an eyebrow and forced his attention to stay on the source of his temporary anxiety: his mate.

You’re sure she’s mine? He had to ask his wolf again. Maybe there’d been some kind of mistake. The universe couldn’t be this cruel to him.

Ours. His wolf bristled at the question. His canine half had never liked being questioned over anything.

She’s not even a wolf. Rex crossed his hands over his chest. She’s not even latent.

She possesses no wolf blood whatsoever. Wouldn’t you like to make a different choice for us?

Fate has chosen and she is perfect. In another second his inner-canine might start growling at him. Rex couldn’t remember the last time he and his other half had been so at odds with one another. It had been decades at least.

He sighed. She’s a witch.

And therein lay the problem. Rex hated witches. As far as he was concerned, witches were the bane of humanity. All witches should be put to death before they were allowed to cause any more trouble. In fact, he’d been sent out by his brother to find a witch and bring her back—willing or not—to Westervelt in order to help them with a problem they faced because of other witches.

Hell, this sucks.

His wolf made a sound somewhere between a harrumph and a sigh, which seemed a little odd for a canine. Your opinion is noted.

“Witch.” Rex spoke to the woman who would be with him for eternity. “What exactly is going on in this room?”

The little woman glared at him. Her hair fell somewhere between the shades of brown and blonde, hanging low past her shoulders. He had no idea what to call the unusual color but he felt certain she would know how she wanted it referred. Women were particular when it came to their own presentation. She’d either think of herself as being blonde or brunette, and he better not make the mistake of calling it something else or she might turn him into a frog.

Her blue eyes flared with anger and another emotion he didn’t know how to define.