Authors: Lorie O'Clare
Of all the antiquated, half-ass, backward way to do things!
“I am not some whore who can be bought or sold,” she hissed at him and then glared at Nicolo’s stunned expression before turning and marching away from the stench of astonished emotions that she couldn’t clear from her head fast enough.
More than likely, her sudden outrage kept her from smelling or seeing the approaching werewolf. She ran into Juan’s chest before realizing he was just a few paces in front of her.
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“Making a scene?” he whispered into her hair, the question sounding more like a threat.
The chilly mountain air did nothing to stop the fire that blazed to life inside her.
Erin froze, not even backing up although she should have. It probably looked really weird that she stood there with her nose buried in Juan’s chest. He smelled so damned good though. One deep breath and she’d cleansed herself of the stench from Joe’s overbearing emotions.
“Erin,” Nicolo said, exasperated, as he hurried up to the two of them. “I didn’t realize he’d be like that.”
Juan stepped to the side and nodded to Nicolo. Erin ached to touch him again. But she turned to her littermate, running her hands down her front and praying she didn’t look too disheveled.
“We’ll talk about this later,” she said quietly, not wanting Juan to know her littermate had almost tossed her to some moneybags werewolf.
Yelling broke out and Erin struggled to see around Juan and Nicolo when they turned toward the aggressive sounds. Joe stomped past them, shaking the ground and mumbling something about incompetent idiots.
“Dimitri would find a fight with his own shadow,” Nicolo sighed, stalking after Joe.
“I’ll show him incompetent idiots.” Erin headed after her littermate.
Already Dimitri was chest to chest with Dante. Dimitri wouldn’t back down from the werewolf until he’d shown the pack that he would make the better leader. Erin was proud of her littermate’s craving to lead the pack. He’d make a damned good leader for all of them. His willingness to take on anything made him perfect to help them make a stand in a nation of werewolves who despised and feared them.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Juan grabbed her arm, dragging her backward to his side. His breath was hot against the side of her face, smelling of fresh meat and something a bit muskier—the ripe scent of his lust.
“Like I have the ability to stop them.” She turned to face him, but he didn’t let go of her arm.
Instead, he pulled her closer. “I know exactly what you have the ability to do,” he whispered. “You stopped that lumber from falling on those werewolves. So I also know your inability to follow orders.”
“They would have been hurt,” she said, admitting her guilt too damned quickly.
His expression hardened and that musky scent that she loved smelling on him faded.
She licked her lips, struggling for the right thing to say to bring that scent back. “I did listen though. I haven’t gone off by myself once—or chased after any other werewolves.”
“And now I see that your heart is full of compassion for others.” He brushed his knuckles down her cheek but then let his hand fall. Giving her a small smile, he turned and walked away from her.
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“Damn it.” Like hell she’d chase after him.
She wanted to so badly.
She stared at that hard ass of his while he strolled over to where her littermate and Dante Aldo were starting to yell at each other. Without hesitating, he moved between the two werewolves. Dimitri looked like he might punch Juan in the face.
“You better not,” she hissed under her breath, glaring at her older littermate and hurrying toward the growing group of werewolves.
“You’re not in charge here, Aldo,” Dimitri yelled, practically shoving Juan out of the way as he lunged at Dante.
“No matter who is in charge, we can’t have chaos here.” Dante also ignored Juan and grabbed Dimitri.
The two werewolves fell to the ground, rolling over each other while Dante’s mate yelled at him to quit being a pup.
Erin didn’t have a clue what the two of them were yelling about. A handful of werewolves blocked her from getting any closer as they started cheering the two idiots on. They screamed at each other about chaos, yet they were the ones creating it. Juan jumped at Dante when he was on top and yanked him back by his shirt. He then let go before Dimitri could take advantage and get a good punch in.
“The only chaos I see is right here,” he said, almost laughing at both of them and voicing her thoughts.
She stared at him. Juan didn’t have the gift, did he? She never believed Malta werewolves could read thoughts, but he’d implied otherwise when they’d been alone together. God. If he could read her mind, then she was in trouble. He’d know how desperately she wanted him.
“If there are werewolves here who can raise these walls by just thinking about it, I’ll be damned if the rest of us should sweat and ache all damned day. I say we let them do it.” Dimitri’s voice was garbled. His teeth grew, making it hard for him to shut his mouth. He yanked on his shirt, which barely covered his growing muscles as the change threatened to take over him.
“So you would use all of those with the gift to do your hard labor while you sit back and give orders,” Dante hissed.
“That is not what I’m suggesting.” Dimitri jumped forward, shoving Dante backward. He then turned to everyone surrounding them. “How many of you here would prefer to build these dens using the gifts that some of us possess?”
The cheering stilled and it grew quiet—uncomfortably quiet. Erin chewed her lip, staring at Juan. He kept his attention on the two werewolves, his gaze going from one to the other while muscles doubled in size throughout his body.
Erin shook her head, fighting to pull her gaze from Juan. Dimitri’s idea was a damned good one. “Maybe we could,” she began.
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“Little bitch,” Juan growled, capturing her gaze before she could suggest some of them help with the gift while others worked with their hands.
She fought to not finish her sentence.
“I am all for my den being built as quickly as possible,” Joe bellowed, and every werewolf looked at him. “I will also challenge any werewolf for the title of pack leader.
Fighting won’t get my den built.”
His words stilled the pack for mere moments.
“A challenge?”
“Who will fight?”
“When is the challenge?” All of them began shouting over each other at once.
Erin rolled her eyes. No one’s den would be built once the males got wind of a challenge. Immediately the conversation jumped to who would fight and where. All that meant was that no one would be raising walls today. She fought to listen, anxious to hear if Juan would be part of the fighting. She couldn’t hear a damn thing over her littermate loudly announcing he’d take down any werewolf in order to secure the title for himself.
The smell of testosterone and anger clogged the air and Erin finally stepped away from the overcharged group of werewolves. Moira’s shrill scream managed to still the group somewhat. Juan rubbed the bitch’s shoulder and Erin stiffened, watching the friendly act.
Moira Aldo had been their previous pack leader’s daughter back in Malta. Today she was the closest they had to a queen bitch. Although officially she held no rank, over the past few months, she’d fulfilled the role. Erin fought not to snarl at her when she squeezed Juan’s hand. The bitch was too damned pretty. And the gift in her was so powerful, it made Erin nervous. Anytime she got too close to Moira, she could feel the power that seeped from the bitch’s pores. What was worse, Moira was nice. No matter how hard she tried not liking her, it was really hard to do.
“It probably is time to arrange a challenge,” Moira said quietly, looking in turn at the group who now all stared at her. “And a date should be set. A pack won’t get anywhere without a leader. But in the meantime, the dens need to be built. Cold weather will be on us before we know it.” She gestured to the cubs playing behind them. “We need good housing for all of our dens. The mountains will be intolerably cold, even in our fur, without good dens.”
“And you could probably build this den by yourself just by thinking about it,”
Dimitri accused.
“Dimitri,” Erin hissed. Her littermate was out of line.
Erin didn’t blame Dante a bit for growling at Dimitri.
Moira laughed easily, moving into her mate’s arms—probably to stop him from taking a potshot at Dimitri.
“I wouldn’t have a clue what goes where,” she told Dimitri, smiling easily at him.
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“Understandable.” Dimitri had an amazing knack of calming down just as quickly as he got fired up. “With little effort, werewolves with that knowledge could advise those with the gift. All of our dens would be standing long before fall turned into winter.”
“And everyone with the gift would be singled out, a quick target for any werewolf who wanted to start trouble,” Dante argued.
“Are you saying you don’t trust your own pack members?” Dimitri challenged.
“You would have the world believe you can take out a pack single-handed, but when it comes to giving that same strength to an entire pack, you balk at the idea.”
“I don’t trust any pack other than ours.” Dante pushed his mate toward Juan and took a step toward Dimitri. “What you suggest stretches our throats and makes us even more vulnerable to surrounding packs who already would kill for a way to get us out of here.”
“I’m not afraid of any other pack,” Dimitri told him, and glanced around at the werewolves surrounding them and listening closely. “If we stand united as a pack, loyal to each other, we have nothing to fear.”
Dante shook his head, looking more and more aggravated. Erin fought not to beam at her littermate. Her pride in him couldn’t be stronger. Ever since they’d arrived here, he’d discussed repeatedly how much he wanted to lead the pack. It was true that most packs surrounding them hated them and wanted them gone. But Dimitri wasn’t scared.
And neither was Erin.
She took a step forward until she stood next to him. “Dimitri would make us even stronger as a pack leader. What Malta werewolf hides in fear?”
The roar from all werewolves around them had to be heard clear to the next mountain. It was almost impossible to tell if most approved of Dimitri leading or not.
Everyone yelled at once, excitement electrifying the cold air.
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Juan wouldn’t be welcome at the Spalto den. He had no doubts on that one.
Especially after Dante and Dimitri almost went at each other’s throats earlier that day.
He ached to see Erin though—to smell her scent around him and enjoy her hot little body but also to learn her mind. And God, what he wouldn’t do to fuck her again.
Pressure had built inside him over the past couple of days that only her hot little body could take care of. Unfortunately, showing up at her den probably wouldn’t go over too well.
Moira finished stacking dishes in the cupboard and turned, glancing at Dante before giving Juan her attention. “That little Spalto bitch has grabbed a hold of your tail, hasn’t she?”
“More like he’s gotten himself a piece of tail,” Dante grumbled.
“You got a problem with that?” Juan wouldn’t be swayed by Dante’s foul mood tonight.
“Nope.” Dante glanced at Moira, staring at her long enough for Juan to know the two of them spoke to each other with their minds. Dante’s scent grew stronger, just as it always did when he used the gift.
They both liked thinking he was ignorant of the strength of their gifts, and he didn’t have a problem playing along—usually. But the three of them had been silent after supper, and Moira bringing up exactly what was on his mind was no coincidence. It was times like this when the two-bedroom den he shared with them was a bit too confining.
“I’m heading out. Don’t wait up for me,” he told them, winking at Moira before grabbing his jacket from the chair by the front door.
“Why are you sniffing after that Spalto bitch?” Dante took the beer that Moira brought him and twisted the cap off with his teeth. “She’s more out of control than any other bitch I’ve seen you run with.”
“Just because she’s Dimitri’s littermate doesn’t make her less appealing,” Juan said, stuffing his arms into his leather jacket. He gave Dante a knowing grin. “Out of control isn’t always a bad thing.”
“It’s not that,” Moira jumped in. Her concern was usually an appealing scent, but tonight it grated on Juan’s nerves. “It’s obvious she wants you just like you want her.
Neither of us wants you hurt, that’s all.”
“You think I can’t handle a bitch who has the gift? Is that it?” He yanked open the front door, filling the small living area with frigid air and the smell of pine. “I’ve lived 32
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with you two in this tiny den for months, and you and I have run together most of our lives, Dante. The gift is nothing new to me.”
It had never been discussed between them before. And truth be known, he wasn’t sure what all Dante could do. Dante and Moira made others nervous though—other werewolves that Juan guessed also had the gift. The way Juan saw it, any special powers that any of them had just made them who they were. Not any better or worse a werewolf than the rest of them.
“If Dimitri and I fight, it will be to the death.” Dante stood slowly, his pale eyes searching Juan’s face. Or more than likely, digging deeper and probing into places his littermate didn’t belong. “Would you mate with a den if they killed your littermate?”
Moira’s jaw dropped and she looked ready to say something.
Juan shook his head. “You won’t die because you won’t accept the challenge. I don’t need the gift to know your mind, Dante. Leading a pack would tie you down and that’s not in your nature.”
He didn’t wait for his littermate’s response. It was the truth and both of them knew it.
Closing the door behind him, he headed to the truck. A mountain chill attacked his flesh and the smell of werewolves hung heavily around him. Adrenaline attacked him as he thought of getting a bit wild tonight. Cutting loose might help the soul.