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Authors: Heather Long

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BOOK: Desert Wolf
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Mirroring her posture, Cassius leaned against the glass. The relaxed stance didn’t suit him. He was too primitive, too ready for a response. Even the sunlight outside seemed a little darker in his presence. She suspected he’d been sleeping when she knocked, yet he hadn’t commented. His short blond hair stood on end, even after he’d raked his hand through it earlier.

“Did your Hound choose to fight?”

“You were there. Did you see Faust in the arenas?” Whatever issue existed between Faust and Cassius, she wouldn’t interfere—unless they invited her or it became a problem.

“I wasn’t there for the first rounds. I arrived during the second. He could have been eliminated by then.”

“True.”

“But you’re not going to confirm or deny.”

“No, because it really doesn’t concern our discussion. That was well over ten years ago. You’ve been Alpha for a long time. How many challenges have you faced in that time?”

“Plenty.” Not really an answer. “Are we going to continue to play dodge and ditch in this discussion?”

“I don’t know. Are we? You asked for me. I’m here. Why am I here, Cassius?” When he said nothing, she took the bull by the horns. “Trust has to start somewhere.”

“You are not what I expected.” At least he didn’t sound disappointed. If anything, his scent intensified, hot sun and honest sweat which recalled the wild land outside the window.

“Good. I don’t like to be predictable and too many assumptions are made about Omegas, if people bother to make them at all.”

Surprise rippled across his visage. “If they bother to make them at all?”

“Last night at the rest stop, all the wolves knew was they didn’t want me here. They were afraid. Most of the time, when Omegas begin to come into their abilities, they don’t even recognize it. I didn’t. It causes fear. Fear…well, not to sound corny like an old movie, but fear leads to hate and hate leads to destruction.”

“Yet you thrive.”

“I was lucky, I had a wise Alpha, one who recognized what I was…and sought to protect me. Once more, we’re diverging from the reason I’m here.”

“No,” he said slowly. “I don’t think we are.” Turning away from her, he paced the length of the room. That he’d given her his back seemed important, but she filed the information away for the moment. One part of her wanted to follow him, but the rest of her urged caution. Her wolf had been relatively silent since she’d awoken. Exhaustion wore at them both, yet she was also curiously charged.

She opened her mouth, but then closed it. He’d paced away, and letting him work out how he wanted to pursue their discussion was the more prudent choice. The tattoos on extended along his shoulder blades and rippled with his every movement. The lines were elegant, yet jagged at the same time. They reminded her of a weapon.

Of course, Cassius reminded her of a weapon as well.

“I need your help,” he said finally, pivoting to face her. “I need your abilities.”

“To do what exactly?” She had her suspicions. Who wouldn’t after the invitation and the greeting she’d received the night before?

“I want to change Sutter Butte.” Blowing out a breath, he raised his chin. “I want to save the pack from itself, and from our history. I want to make it stronger, and the only way I can do that is…is to find the flaws and face them all. To force them to face them.”

The blood in her veins chilled. Having an idea of what he was asking and hearing him say it aloud were two entirely different experiences. “It’ll gut your pack.”

“I’m prepared to pay the cost in blood. I know we’ll lose some, but we’ll save so many more.” Passion fired in his voice—passion and conviction. He glowed with it, his power coiling through him. She could almost see it shimmering in the air around him.

For the first time, she saw the real Cassius. The Alpha. Not the warrior and the blooded fighter, but the leader. “What you’re asking could destroy me.”

“I know.” Meeting her gaze, no trace of deception clouded his eyes. “I will do everything I can to keep you safe, but like I said last night…I will do anything for my pack. I have to save them, Sovvan. You
have
to help me.”

Fuck.
Her survival instincts said run like hell and don’t look back, so why was the word yes burning on the tip of her tongue?

Chapter 7

T
he conversation
with Sovvan went nowhere, but left him raw and without a firm commitment on her part. The circular nature of her questions and his refusal to give her direct answers without her oath to keep their conversation between them aggravated him. Dinner didn’t seem to appease her, and she grew more silent as the evening progressed. By the Hound’s third visit, Cassius sent her away to think. He needed an answer, one that didn’t involve Serafina in any fashion whatsoever.

Sleep proved elusive, even if he’d only managed to take the edge off his exhaustion. His awareness of his pack included a certain level of apprehension. His wolves had always been distant to an extent. Those who lived in Summit year-round were closer to him than those who maintained their residences scattered across the southwest. His territory included southern California as far north as the Los Angeles basin, though none of his wolves lived outside of the Mojave. They preferred the desert climes to the smog-infested city.

Sutter Butte once held Las Vegas, but when Cassius ascended, he didn’t want the city of sin or to deal with the denizens who enjoyed it. Arguably, his own austere lifestyle cost them land, but gained them more security. Sutter Butte bordered on no other pack, which meant they didn’t have to worry about incursions. Three Rivers was now closer than Delta Crescent.

He didn’t trust the Alpha and, frankly, wished they’d eliminated the pack before they’d dug in and settled. Knowing Sutter Butte’s own history, removing them now would only encourage them to ally more tightly. Maybe that was the answer to Mason’s question. Drive their bonds of unity by forcing them to put aside their differences and face a common enemy.

Resisting the growl itching in the back of his throat, Cassius left his home at dawn and secured the main gate before descending into the town proper. With a population varying between twelve hundred and two thousand depending on the time of year, he knew all the wolves. They had some craftsmen, engineers, and more children than some might suspect. Many had been born in Summit, but more had been rescued from the foster system after their parents perished in dominance battles. Female wolves were typically excused from the Law of Ascension, unless they wanted to involve themselves.

Shopkeepers weren’t quite ready to open, but the coffee house never closed. Alicia Medina believed an open door led to open hearts, so even when she slept, she left her coffee urns ready for fresh brew and some baked pastries in an open cabinet. Trust went both ways, she trusted her nighttime visitors to help themselves without damage and to leave payment for any goods they consumed.

Cassius broke the arm of the only wolf he’d ever known to violate her trust. That wolf now slept in the rooms above her shop and it was his job to provide a guard or had been for the first year. After that, he did it voluntarily. Most likely, Benny wanted to court Alicia, but the she-wolf was no beta to any male. Her mate had been one of the few wolves Cassius ever trusted, at least until he’d lost him to Justin’s machinations.

Thinking about the bastard who’d carefully inserted himself into the dominance fights, assassinating more than his fair share, and the alliances he’d built with wolves recruited from beyond the pack guaranteed a bad mood. Pushing open the door of the coffee shop, he let the scent of dark brew fill his nostrils. He’d never been fond of the bitter drink, but it provided an excuse for conversation, and he needed to have several. Trask waited for him—a broad, bald man with a tattoo covering the left side of his neck. He wore Cassius mark, a symbol of his position in the pack and also of his loyalty. Three claw marks seemingly raked across his throat. The claw marks disguised a lotus flower—Claire’s symbol, and one Trask insisted on before the claw marks were added.

Amidst the black ink were a half dozen red blood drops—one drop for each of the men he led. When they added to that number, Trask would add them to his tattoo. “Morning, boss.” The other man grinned laconically. Seated at one of the tables, he had an oversized cup of coffee in one hand a fat cinnamon roll on the table.

Sweet confections, Trask’s true weakness. Shaking his head, Cassius poured himself a cup of coffee, then said, “Benny, go take a walk. Pick up any supplies Alicia needs.”

A thump hit the floor above, then a door closed and footsteps echoed on the stairs outside. The older wolf passed the window and raised a hand in greeting as he hurried off to obey. Benny would never survive in the pack outside of Summit.

Bypassing the sugar and creamer, Cassius took the chair opposite Trask. “Report.”

The other wolf didn’t waste his time. “Nearly all of the wolves involved in the ambush have been identified. One was Garcia’s son, which you already knew. Four of the wolves with him were also loyal to Garcia. Not blood related, just friends, cohorts. They run their own little gang near the border, and they do their best to keep it quiet. Pretty sure they’ve been involved with some of the illegal crossings, which increased last month after the roundup in Texas.”

It had been all over the news. A host of children crossed the border and were then corralled by the government border patrol. The rest of the country debated what to do with them and, while the cameras focused on the right and wrong of the action, the rest of the border was left open.

Acting as coyotes for illegal immigrants was an automatic death sentence in the pack.

“I sent JoJo out to get more information. Everyone likes JoJo; he’ll find the rest of their so-called gang. Orders when he does?” Another plus for Trask—he didn’t assume orders unless Cassius told him in advance to act with impunity.

“Verify their activity. If they are smuggling kids and selling them, kill them.”

“If they’re not?”

“Bring them to the Reaping.”

“Got it.” Trask took a bite from his cinnamon roll, then pulled out a piece of paper and slid it across the table. “These are the three locations we’ve vetted for the Reaping. They’re clean, no surveillance, no local population, no hikers in the last three months.”

Not looking at the sheet, Cassius nodded. No one ever knew where the Reaping would be held until Cassius sent out the word. The location was always the last decision he made to keep them honest. Assassination, poison, traps—they were common tactics for the less honorable. “I’ll let you know my decision.”

After another bite and a long drink of his coffee, Trask said, “The other matter? Laurel’s clean. She’s been everywhere she said. She keeps to herself, and she doesn’t kill unless the other wolf forces the issue.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s clean.”

“It does when she doesn’t trade favors for allies, and she doesn’t discuss her rank where you are concerned with anyone. Not even me.” The corner of Trask’s mouth curved. “She reminds me of Claire in some ways, but without Claire’s grit.”

“You trust her?” The other wolf’s response to the question would be telling.

“Not like I trust my guys or you, but, yeah…I’d have her at my back in a fight.” He tapped the table with one thick finger. “She isn’t looking forward to the Reaping, but she is training and she’s real wary of your Johnny Boy.”

Everyone was wary of Johnny. The kid had potential, but his impetuousness was too reminiscent of Justin. “What about him?”

“He’s got lots of friends.” Trask’s whole manner shifted. “Too many friends. He’s free with his promises, and freer with his money. He’s also been in contact with the ambush party. We found his number in their group message.”

“Only in the group message or in any one-on-ones?” It didn’t exonerate him, but Cassius wanted to know.

“Nothing individual that we’ve found yet, but Murdock identified several burner numbers in those messages—no names, nothing revealing of identity which makes it doubly suspicious.”

Cassius nodded. “And Monty?”

“Clean. No digital footprint, nothing out of the ordinary, and nothing remarkable.”

So why did he sound far more suspicious about the latter than the former?

“You don’t like clean.” The coffee scalded his throat as he took a long drink. The burn felt good.

“Not even a little. No one is that damn honest. Not you, not me, not him. He’s flying under the radar, but his place in the top three suggests he’s got to have the chops to hold it. Yet he does nothing.” The bald wolf grimaced, a snarl twisting his lips. “Doesn’t feel right.”

“Keep on him, then. If he’s planning something, I want to know about it. How far has word spread of Sovvan’s arrival?”

“Safe to say everyone knows, boss. It was all they talked about yesterday and they’ve got runners watching your place. They want to see her come out. If I were you, I wouldn’t let her out of your sight.”

He had no intentions of doing anything else. “Are your guys watching them?”

“Of course.” Trask stuffed the rest of the cinnamon roll into his mouth. Letting the other wolf eat, Cassius stood.

“Keep me up-to-date. We’ll have a few more wolves arriving at Summit over the next few days. Hey, what about the kid Bianca was looking after? Maddy?” The sad little girl tugged at his conscience.

“Haven’t found any Shannons yet. Want me to make it a priority?”

The kid was an orphan if she had no family, and all orphans belonged to him. “Keep looking, but we have other priorities. I need to know everyone involved in this little rebellion. The Reaping is the best time for them to make a coordinated move, so I want to know it’s coming if it is.”

“You got it, boss.”

One step from the door, Cassius felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. Pulling it out, he flipped it over and allowed himself a faint smile.

Claire.

Striding out of the shop, he answered the call. “Well, sweetheart, you took your time getting back to me.”

“You’re lucky I’m even calling.” The brazen bluntness in her tone was one of the things he liked about her. “You really pissed off Mason, and that wasn’t necessary.”

“I don’t like Mason, and he doesn’t really deserve you. I’ll try to be nice in the future, if that’s what it takes.”

He deserved her snort of derision. “Look, Cassius, why do you need me there? Ty’s not thrilled with your choice of calling me. Neither is Mason, for that matter.”

So, her mate listened to her call.
Fair enough
. “I need you here because I trust you.” Following the cobbled street, he descended to where the open market would sell fruits, vegetables and supplies brought in from other towns, cities and farms. He’d promised Maria he’d bring her a few items she needed. For now, it was safer if she and Sovvan remained in seclusion. Normally, no one would touch anything he claimed, but these were trying times, and he had enough blood on his hands.

Silence met his declaration of trust, though he could hear the faint sounds of her respiration.

“What? Shocked that I’d say that aloud?”

“No, worried about what the hell you’re doing which required you to admit trusting anyone.” Another plus in her book, she didn’t pretend to understand or support everything. She never kissed his ass. The day she’d killed Justin, she’d won the spot of his second. To the victor went the right of Alpha Challenge—one many wolves leapt at. Cassius didn’t accept challenges in any other way. Rather than a battle, Claire asked him for ten minutes of his time.

Intrigued, he’d taken her to dinner, although the hordes hadn’t enjoyed the sudden end to the blood sport. “Do you remember what you said to me at our dinner?”

“I said a lot of things,” she began, but didn’t keep him hanging. “Are you referring to the fact I said I wanted to go home? That I should never have left Willow Bend, and I hated Sutter Butte? I hated the bloodthirstiness, the feeling of always having to be on guard, and the lack of a pack feeling. Willow Bend had issues when I was a kid, but I never felt like someone was always gunning for me. I didn’t want to be there anymore. I wanted to go home.”

Pretty much verbatim.
“Exactly.” Scanning the area, he detected no nearby scents and no foreign sounds reached his ears. Pity, he wouldn’t mind this rumor spreading. “I took what you said to heart and, you should know, I feel the same way.”

“Are you serious?” Disbelief etched into her every word.

Another sound in the background, before Ty’s voice interrupted, “What do you mean you feel the same way?”

“Good morning, Tyler.” Claire’s mate hadn’t liked him much when they met during Cassius’ visit to Willow Bend for the Alpha summit. He’d radiated the urge for violence. His protectiveness toward Claire hadn’t included coddling his mate, however, only fury at what she’d gone through. Admirable all the way around.

“Yeah, whatever—what do you mean you feel the same way?”

“I want to change my pack. I want to end the Reaping.” Those words would probably scare the hell out of every wolf who heard them… but Claire? Claire he trusted to understand why.

“How?”

Look at her, she leapt right past confirmation to understanding
. “Not easily, and it begins and ends with me. I have my plans, and I’m not going to share them right now. What I can tell you is I need you here to make it happen. I need you to work with me. You’re Willow Bend, and this is a favor. I need some of your time, Claire.”

Cassius waited out their silence by leaning against the adobe wall. The sun rose gradually, painting the sky above, and movement down the street indicated the arrival of the first cart. Hopefully, they would have the onions and peppers Maria asked for. If not, Cassius would wait.

“How serious are you, Cassius? You could sunder the entire pack if some don’t want the Reaping to end, and you and I both know there are plenty who won’t want it to stop.” Sober. Direct. Slicing right to the heart of the matter. It was why he needed her. Claire didn’t play games.

“Deadly serious. I’ve already had to put down two rebellions. I expect there to be more and, I won’t lie, I expect the outcome to be bloody.”

“So, you need me to fight.”

“No,” Tyler’s snarled order came on the heels of her response.

“Ideally, no.” Yet they were not fools. “Nothing about this will be ideal so, yes, you may be required to defend. I am not asking you to run the Reaping or to attack anyone.”

BOOK: Desert Wolf
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