Snow Wolf: Wolves of Willow Bend (Book 9) (12 page)

“Remove his hand.”

The wolf blanched, but Julian didn’t hesitate, his claws extended and he tore through the wolf’s wrist. Yury screamed, the ragged sound grating until he choked off abruptly.

The Chief Enforcer sighed, and Diesel shook his head. “Bind the wound, then secure him.” With a glance at the two still in wolf form, he said, “Find me something to drag his sorry ass back on.”

“Outpost?” Grinder asked.

Diesel nodded. If the man had anymore information, they needed it. Till then, he focused on Julian. “You need to warn them…there are only two targets left.”

“Three.” Julian replied. “Of the three, only one is truly vulnerable.”

Three Rivers.
“You have Enforcers in place.”

The other man nodded. “They are on observation only, not intercept.”

“Might want to change that order.” He rubbed the back of his neck, even as the change of weather began to kiss his senses. “Soon. A storm is coming.”

Julian took his foot off the unconscious wolf and studied him dispassionately, before slanting a look at Grinder. The Sentry had said nothing since confirming their destination.

Whatever the Enforcer wanted to say, it would wait. The wolves he’d sent off returned in short order. The cache had to be nearer than Diesel thought or perhaps he was tired. The last thing he wanted to be doing was questioning the invader, he’d much rather be coaxing more information from his Dove. Once the wolf was secure, Diesel sent Grinder to watch over them and then shifted. With a glance at Julian, he set off.

The other wolf didn’t change; instead he ran alongside, keeping pace with Diesel. They headed for one of outrider lodgings for wolves who wanted to sleep inside, but didn’t want to run all the way back to Tikaani.

Both slowed on approach, testing the air for foreign scents or sounds. Detecting none, Julian opened the door and Diesel entered. A faint mustiness clung to the interior, as though it hadn’t been used recently. While Julian secured the door, Diesel shifted and dug out a change of clothes from the box of them.

“Coffee?” The lack of dominance games amused Diesel. Out of sight of the others and alone, they didn’t have to be Alpha and Chief Enforcer. Just cousins. If Julian wanted to play it that way, it suited him fine.

“I could drink a gallon,” he admitted, scrubbing at his scalp. “Actually, what I want is a shower, a meal, and this to be someone else’s problem.” Not to mention, he wouldn’t mind Ranae being in his bed, though he doubted they were anywhere near that capitulation on her part. An Alpha could plan though.

“Grab one, I’ll see what crap your Sentries have stocked here.” Julian waved him off.

Fifteen minutes later, Diesel felt a modicum more human and returned to find his cousin frying bacon. “Who the hell stocked bacon this far out?” His stomach rumbled. Except for the meal he’d shared with his Dove, it had been a while since he ate a cooked meal.

“Don’t know, don’t care. I stole it though.” Julian gave him a proprietary grin. “Found it buried beneath all the elk meat.”

Which meant someone had been hoarding.
Served them right.
Diesel poured his own coffee then drank most of the cup in two swallows. After he poured a second cup, he went into the side room off the kitchen and flipped on the radio gear. Setting it to the current channel, he retrieved the handset.

“Diesel to base. Check in.”

He didn’t have to wait long. “Montana, actual.”

“Report.”

“Survivors are healing and remaining stationary for now.”
Good news
. “No other incidents to report.”

“My guest?”

“Will not leave Chowder or her charges. She’s staying on scene and protecting.” Though Montana’s voice crackled and popped on the radio, her tone suggested approval.

“Keep them that way, Montana.”

“Will do. Are you returning?”

Soon as he could. “Will inform. Diesel, out.” He ended the conversation and set the handset back in place. The faint hum of the equipment would be annoying, but he left it on in case they needed him.

In addition to the pile of bacon, Julian had found bread and shredded potatoes. He set a loaded plate on the counter for Diesel before filling his own. “I’m not cleaning.”

Diesel snorted, but snagged a piece of bacon and pointed at him. “Fill me in on the rest.”

“Not a lot to go on…” Julian said between bites of food. Neither man took their time on devouring the meal. “Whatever Russian pack is doing this, it feels at once organized and not.”

“Is it a pack or is it strays looking to make their mark?” The foot soldiers made him think the former more than the latter. Volchitsa were more a roving band of vagabonds. Had they bonded together?

“Why would strays protect each other, even on pain of death?” His cousin shook his head. “No, this is a coordinated effort, I just don’t think the pawns know what the player’s end game is.”

“The others have no ideas?”

“No.” Julian shook his head. “Mason is the only one considering the possibility that the threat is to all the packs and, to be fair, only Mason and Serafina are sitting on stable consolidated packs at the moment. Brett’s is still recovering, and Sutter Butte may be a mess for some time to come.”

“My pack is fine.” He reminded his cousin. “We will mourn our dead, heal our living, and continue as we have always done.”

“Then crush your enemy as soon as you identify them?”

Diesel merely smiled.

“That is what the Enforcers are for. We can and will track these bastards down. If we go into Russia, it begs no reprisals from their packs.”

“You don’t even know the lay of the land there, cousin…”

“And you do?” Julian raised his brows.

“I roamed there.”

“I fought over there.”

“You fought in Europe, and it was a different era altogether. I roamed Siberia, lived in the dark forests, foraged into China and beyond.” If they really wanted to have a pissing contest, they could spend their whole day on it. “Your Enforcers are needed here to deal with the upstarts and the Lone Wolves.” That was their purpose. “You do not fight our wars for us.”

Julian scowled.

But if his cousin wanted to persist… “Besides, I know of only one other wolf that knows Russia better than me.” Biting into his last piece of bacon, Diesel waited for him to latch onto the bait.

“Who?”

“Your Dallas.” A dark look crossed the other wolf’s face and Diesel didn’t smile despite his amusement. “Perhaps, if you find her, you’ll discover more answers.”

“Sometimes, you’re a bastard.” Julian growled.

“Most of the time,” Diesel agreed then shrugged. “You asked. I know she spent time there, on and off, over the years. She may know nothing, but a wolf on the run usually knows all the major players, because they have to know how to avoid them.”

Scowl easing, Julian finished the last of his food then drained his coffee. “One disaster at a time. I’m going to see if I can contact Mason and Serafina. Do you want to be present, or would you prefer to continue your pretense of disliking technology?”

“It’s not a pretense. I don’t like it. It’s annoying, but it has its place. Call them.”

Julian pulled a larger phone from inside his coat. No wonder he hadn’t shifted. “It’s a satellite phone,” he said by way of explanation.

“I don’t care,” Diesel assured him, before refilling his coffee with the last in the pot. Julian gave him a dark look because Diesel didn’t make more.

The phone rang twice before Mason answered. “Not sure whether to be impressed or worried because you’re checking in so soon, Julian.”

“Probably both,” Julian answered without quibbling as he put the phone on speaker and set it between them. The hum of the electronics raked across Diesel’s nerves, but the soft, childish laughter drifting from somewhere near Mason offered a balm.

“Go find Mommy,” Mason ordered gently. “Daddy will hunt with you in a little while.” Another soft laugh, then the sound of a little girl calling for Mommy as she raced away. “You have my attention,” he said once the baby sounds vanished.

“A play was made for the Yukon,” Julian began.

“A feint,” Diesel corrected. “All foot soldiers, none very dominant. More brute force than anything else. We have one prisoner, who won’t live for long.”

“Any losses?” Trust an Alpha to go to the heart of the matter.

“Four dead, four wounded.”

“And my Hunter?”

Diesel didn’t bare his teeth, but that was another matter they needed to settle before the call ended.

“Ranae is fine,” Julian answered. “She wasn’t involved in the fight.”

“Where is she now?” A silken threat flowed through the words.

“Looking after my healer while Chowder tends the injured—behind a wall of two hundred solid fighters.” Diesel wouldn’t pretend she didn’t matter. “We need to discuss this further after we deal with the problem at hand.”

“So, it’s like that, is it?” Amusement softened the question.

“Yes.” He didn’t quibble. “I plan to keep her.”

Julian sighed, while giving him a bland look.

“How does she feel about that?” Instead of sounding offended, a hint of intrigue touched Mason’s tone.

“She doesn’t understand yet.” Diesel kept it honest. “But we’ve only just met. Give me a few weeks.”

“Few weeks?” Doubt edged his voice now. “Diesel, she is my wolf. Mine to protect, and if she doesn’t want to stay there a few weeks, I will not order her to do so.”

Fine, if he wants to throw down a gauntlet…
“Then I will hold her hostage. The other packs have your wolves, cementing your ties to them. Consider her a promise to good relations between ours.”

“Those are archaic laws, not to mention ridiculous. If you try to hold her hostage, she would be within her rights to fight her way out.”

“I have no problems with that.” The only wolf she would ever fight would be him and he would never harm her—or let her go.
Problem solved.

“Table it for now,” Julian interrupted. “We have enough issues to deal with and, for the moment, Ranae is safe and occupied.”

“Fine, I gave her two weeks. By my count, she has nine days left. We will revisit the issue then…but, Diesel, allow me to be clear. If she wants to leave and you make me come up there, you won’t like the result.”

Nor would Mason, but Julian simply shook his head—a request, not an order in his eyes. Diesel shrugged then waved a hand. “Continue.”

“We’ve questioned the foot soldier,” Julian inserted, apparently quite content to avoid further discussion of Diesel’s mate. “He claims they were here to sow chaos.”

“Arguably, it’s what they did in Sutter Butte as well.” Mason didn’t sound certain. “Though at a significantly bloody cost.”

“The challenge Brett faced was only that of an Alpha, they didn’t touch his pack.” Julian tapped two fingers to the counter. “Not chaos engendering…not really.”

“You’re missing the point.” Diesel eyed his cousin. “You’ve spent too many years outside of a pack—and, while you rule Willow Bend now, Mason, you too spent too many years alone.”

“So, what is it we’re not seeing?” The mildness in his question belied any real offense on Mason’s part.

“They are targeting their attacks to each specific pack. Cassius’ attack was exceptionally bloody and violent, but that is Sutter Butte. Brett seemed the weakest of the Alphas, as he’d already taken damage from the mad wolf, so eliminating him would be the most expedient way to take over.” Diesel drained his coffee. “If I were interested in their territories, it’s what I would have done.”

Silence hung between them for a long moment, then Mason asked. “And if you wanted mine?”

“I’d kill your mate.”

N
early a full day
after she’d shared a dinner with Diesel in his grassy room, she returned to it—alone. Nothing inside had changed, the remnants of their meal still sat on the end of the oversized sofa, their glasses remained perched on the crate table. Once the door secured behind her, she walked over to pick up her glass and drained the remnants.

Chowder determined the injured could be moved to the sanctuary below finally. Ranae’s eyes were gritty from lack of sleep, and the fatigue in her muscles left her sore. Despite the long passage of hours, she’d made do with only snatches of rest. It seemed no sooner did she allow her eyes to close than the healer sat up and went to one of his patients.

He cared for them, she kept an eye on him. As they recovered enough to eat, she provided the stew—stew Chowder even declared passable, despite lacking clams. It had provided a much needed moment of levity when Demon experienced night terrors. They only got him quieted when Ranae sat with him, stroking his hair. He’d curled onto his uninjured side and settled his cheek to her thigh.

Cramps ripped through her for holding position for so long, but she didn’t move until he rolled of his own accord. At first she couldn’t figure out why they hadn’t moved the injured immediately, but once they made the descent—well-lit this time, thankfully—she realized most of the pack was asleep and they could move the injured in without scaring the young.

A female wolf named Montana introduced herself, and advised Ranae she would show her back to her rooms. Ranae declined until she’d seen Chowder to his. The healer had protested, but Montana joined her in telling him to go to bed. The injured needed sleep and safety now more than a healer on hand. Between them, they’d gotten the healer moving.

Setting her glass down, she picked up Diesel’s and drained it as well. Despite having showered earlier, she needed another one, but what she really wanted was eight hours of uninterrupted horizontal time.
The big bed is probably more comfortable than the one in the room I picked.

She considered it—it would serve him right. “And send totally the wrong message.” No matter how tired she was, it would be a bitch thing to toy with a wolf’s affections, whether she believed him or not. She cleaned up the tray of food then carried it to the door. There she used the intercom and chose the number for Montana. When she received a message, she left one and said she’d put the tray outside. She would happily return it, but she didn’t know where it went.

Once she’d taken care of that, she poured herself another drink and carried the whiskey with her to the bathroom. She tossed it back after turning on the water. Stripping off her bloodied clothes and reminding herself she still didn’t know where her jacket had gone, she climbed in the shower and rinsed away the last day’s worth of sweat and pain.

Leaning on the tiled wall, she pressed her cheek to the coolness. She could go to sleep right there, but what a waste of water. Maybe she should have filled the tub. Ten minutes later, she made herself shut the water off and toweled herself dry. Unwilling to put the bloodied clothes back on, she set them to the side. Her mother would growl and snarl if she didn’t soak them.

“Good thing Mom isn’t here, then.” With only the towel wrapped around her, she left the bathroom and walked to her room. Whatever Diesel had done to the lights kept them on at that dim, but visible setting. She liked it. In her room, she exchanged her towel for an oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties, then fell onto the bed.

Her eyes had barely closed when she heard buzzing.

Peeling an eyelid up, she studied the room. The buzz repeated.

When it came a third time, she groaned and pushed herself up, retraced her steps and stared at her dirtied cloths in the bathroom. Fishing her phone out of her back pocket, she stared at it. A series of messages appeared on the screen.

The sanctuary must have Internet. It didn’t even occur to her to check and her phone had connected automatically.

Three notes from A.J. all in response to her she’d arrived message from three days before. Had it really been three days? It felt like a month. The messages were all typical brother stuff—including the last one to remind Diesel she’d had her shots, but she did still bite.

Shaking her head, she fell back onto her guest bed. It was like falling on a cushion of stone, but she really didn’t care. She had messages from her parents, Ty, and Linc—both wanted her to let them know when she left the Yukon, and both chided her for not telling them she had landed safely.

“Ugh, you have mates. Go mother them.” She skipped answering them for the moment.

The last message had her sitting up again. It was from Mason.

Contact me immediately.

“Really, Diesel? The one time I wished you lived in the backwater wasteland I thought this would be.” She wanted to growl, but no way she could disobey her Alpha, especially since he was reaching out to her.

I’m here
, she sent back.

Can you call?

She checked her cell reception and grimaced.
No bars.

Then how are you texting me?

Guilt swamped her.
Internet connection.

Huh. Crafty bastard never told me he had that.

She kept her opinions to herself about the crafty bastard.

Julian and Diesel contacted me about an attack. Are you safe?

Warmth flooded her, and she blinked back tears. Her Alpha did care.
Yes, sir. I wasn’t in any of the fighting, helped the healer while he tended the injured.

Good job. That’s not easy, to stay out of the action.

I made myself useful.

Mason didn’t respond immediately. A yawn cracked her jaw and she took advantage of the delay to drag back the heavy wool blanket and crawl beneath it. The area wasn’t cold, but she liked to be warm when she slept.

Thank you, Ranae. I am here if you need me.

Surprise gripped her. Hopefully she wouldn’t need him.
Thank you, Mason. Forgive me for asking, but is there anything else? I need sleep. Been up for thirty-six hours.

Not exactly diplomatic, but…
Sleep. Check in later.

A good response, but a moment later, he added.
And contact your mother after you’ve rested.

Ranae chuckled.
Will do.

The phone went quiet, and she set it on the blanket next to her as she collapsed once more. A yawn stretched her mouth wide, and her eyes closed. She descended rapidly, her whole body going liquid when she heard the door in the outer room open.

A groan tried to work free, but she clamped it down. She needed to sleep. The barest hush of footsteps, then nothing. Satisfied Diesel had gone to his own room, she curled onto her side and began to sink once more.

The bed jolted and she opened her eyes to see a huge white wolf easing onto the bed. Ranae rolled onto her back and pushed up on her elbows. “What the hell are you doing?”

Blue eyes met hers as the wolf simply stared at her.

“There is not enough room in this bed…”

He tipped his head to the side, his ears flicking toward her.

She groaned and tipped her head back. “I just want to go to sleep. Do you have any idea how tired I am?”

Why wasn’t he more tired? Hadn’t he gone off to deal with the problem? Diesel didn’t leap down but worked his way into stretching out alongside her and then he set his head against her hip.

It was way too personal. She gave him a light push and rolled to her side. It gave him more room and jammed her up against the wall. The wolf seemed to unfold, stretching out into the available space and then tucked his head against her shoulder.

She was too tired for his crap. “I hate you.”

He huffed and when he began to breathe long, slow and deep she sighed and closed her eyes.

T
he dim lighting
gave him a perfect view of her face when he finally roused from some of the best sleep he’d had in a while. Initially, he’d planned to let her have the room to herself. No need to force his attentions, and it would be better in the long run if she came to him. He’d made it as far as his own room before the realization that he’d never sleep if he were not close enough to protect her.

Mate.

The knowledge carried a special kind of hell with it. Though he minimized the threat to his pack, he now faced a very similar weakness to Mason. If anyone laid a finger on her, they’d lose the arm if not their life. Walking into her room in wolf form meant he could protect, and she didn’t have to feel pressured by a man trying to sleep in her bed.

It was a minor difference, and she would be well within her rights to slap him down for it. He didn’t mind. He’d take the hit. Deserving her chastisement was worth the exchange for ensuring her safety. Though in truth, he’d been after peace of mind.

One did not recover from the loss of a mate so easily and he hadn’t—not for years. The chance to move on, the opportunity for hope? His Dove represented all that and more. Montana told him of all she’d done and, when he’d checked on the injured, they’d all mentioned her—especially young Demon. The pup was half-in-love with the she-wolf who’d looked after him.

She slept on her side, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, the other arm extended so that her free hand rested in his ruff. That light contact kept him absolutely still when he woke. Soon enough she would wake and want him away, but he would enjoy the moment’s intimacy for however long it lasted.

A hundred questions formed in his mind. What did she like? How long had she trained? Her discipline had been profound. She’d gone right to work when they made it to the top of the stairs. She hadn’t slowed and, even though he’d made sure the lights were on, she hadn’t even hesitated to follow them into the stairwell.

Courage or brashness? Did it really matter?

She tried to roll over and released a little moan when she couldn’t shift his weight. Curious, he didn’t move and waited, anticipating the moment she opened her eyes. The dark lashes swept up to reveal the gray-green he’d begun to adore. The shade reminded of the sea when a storm churned the water.

For split second, her drowsy expression held sway until it resolved to annoyance with a frown tightening her brow. If he were a man, he would’ve grinned. As it was, he let his mouth open so his tongue could loll out and savor every nuance of her scent.

It coated him, having slept so close to her, and his would be on her. More than safety demanded he keep his scent on her clothes, her bed—because until he could embed it in her skin, he wanted it clear he pursued her, and he wouldn’t brook any competition. The thought jolted through him…what if his competition was not in the Yukon but in Willow Bend?

His jaws snapped shut and she rubbed at her eyes at the click of his teeth coming together. “Considering you weigh a ton and have all the room, what are you being pissy about?” In the first hours of waking, her voice held a particularly husky quality.

He nuzzled her cheek rather than answering, and she allowed him one small swipe of his tongue before she shoved muzzle away.

“Ugh, morning breath.”

He huffed, then sniffed her with deliberate indelicateness and huffed again.

“Not me, smart ass. You.” She pointed to the floor. “Get off.”

While he definitely enjoyed the challenge she offered, it would suit her well to remember who the Alpha was. She gave him another shove, this time bracing herself on the wall and using her legs. It actually rocked his balance and he shot to his feet.

“Thank you,” she said, springing up and off the bed before he could react. “I have to pee.” With that, she sauntered away, leaving him with a beautiful view of her long golden legs and the pale cream panties she wore, since her t-shirt hadn’t fallen all the way down.

When his tongue lolled out this time, it wasn’t just to savor her scent. He waited until the bathroom door closed before he leapt down and padded into his bedroom. Only there did he shift and bring himself to his full height. Stretching his arms over his head, he listened to each of the vertebrae as they cracked and popped. The release of tension reminded him of how long he’d stayed still.

No one had disturbed them. A good sign. He’d left Grinder and the others to dispose of Yury once they finished questioning him. Afterward, Diesel had then seen Julian to his vehicle to make sure he headed back toward Prudhoe Bay.

Scratching his chest, he considered whether to dress then shower or to simply take his shower then dress. The idea he even considered clothes was in deference to Dove. Most wolves were not body shy. Then again, most wolves wouldn’t out right reject a mate claim, either. In the end, it didn’t matter what most wolves would or would not do—it only mattered what Dove preferred.

Still debating the matter when she exited the bathroom, he waited for her to notice him through the open door so he could gauge her reaction. Her gaze immediately collided with his, dropped to his body then stared a heartbeat longer than necessary. His cock thrummed to life under her attention. Grinning slowly, he paced forward and gave her time to recover.

Coughing once, she glanced down the hall. “I’ll figure out coffee…” Then she all but fled.

Pleased beyond all measure, he sauntered into the bathroom for his shower. She’d noticed. More, she’d liked what she’d seen. Riding the high of being ten feet tall, he took his time with the shower.

The scent of coffee greeted him while he toweled off. Satisfied by her response to his body, he selected lightweight jeans and a simple t-shirt. She wasn’t in the arbor.

Dampness met his bare feet with every step. The misters had kicked in to water the lawn and the overheads had brightened for a sunlight effect. Dove stood in the stone garden, with its appliances built into the rock walls. Someday, he would really need to compliment Montana on her efforts to create the perfect parts of their environment in his rooms.

Sadly, Ranae had dressed as well, though her feet were bare. The long, dark pants she wore were a soft cotton and her t-shirt white enough he could make out the line of the bra she’d also donned. Cradling a cup of coffee, she stared at the ceiling.