“Hmm, that makes sense.” He nodded slowly, then looked in the direction Carey had run off to. “Landon and I don’t have them. We can because people know what we are and all of that, but it’s never seemed safe when it comes to werewolves, so I had a blanket ban on werewolves in the Dallas pack. Carey is human. Imposing my personal ideas of werewolves and the internet on her didn’t seem fair.”
“Makes sense. Let’s go before they get suspicious.”
“Oh, Landon will keep her busy for however long is necessary,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss me. “He’s got us figured out.”
“Of course he does,” I mumbled, stepping back and heading for the kitchen. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to give you what you want every time you want it.”
The growl I got in response made shivers run down my spine, but I didn’t stop moving. I went into the kitchen and started helping with dinner until Landon stole a spoon from me and silently pointed for me to leave. Carey’s laughter followed me out.
“Come on. We can hang out on the back porch while those two destroy my house,” Heath whispered, leading me away.
“I can never do anything here.” With an eye roll, I obliged, heading into the backyard. As I did, I decided to strike up a normal conversation. It was better than playing with fire while Carey was just inside. “If you don’t mind me asking, how’s the werewolf doing? The female from Russia?” I found my favorite seat on his back porch as he grabbed two drinks from a new mini-fridge. He was obviously setting up his backyard for future barbecues. With who, I had no idea, but he had the entire set up built-in now.
“She passed away Tuesday morning,” he answered, sighing heavily. My gut twisted. That wasn’t the news I had expected. I had been hoping to hear a story about how she was recovering. “Last night, a submissive member of the pack stabbed the Alpha. Silver knife, to the heart, human form. He’s not dead, but he was flown into Mygi for emergency surgery.”
“Shit,” I breathed out. “That’s…”
“Yeah, it’s not looking good for Alpha…” Heath growled softly as he held out the drink. “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.”
“I would never tell my family what you tell me,” I reminded him. “I’m sorry you lost her.” I didn’t reach for the soda, watching him as he finally gave in, put it on the small table between us, and sat down.
“He probably deserved getting that knife,” Heath said, the animalistic growl still in his voice. “That knife should have killed him, but since they could stabilize him and get him to the hospital here in the States, he’ll probably make it. A good surgeon and some magic can fix fucking anything.”
“You hate him,” I whispered. “Heath, did that Alpha kill the female?”
“If he didn’t, he allowed it to happen.” Heath turned his drink around in his hands. “An Alpha sets the tone and pace for the pack. If my pack had seen me hitting Landon to put him into place, they would assume it’s okay for them to hit their werewolf children or possibly any wolf not as dominant. If they saw me hitting Carey? They would hopefully report me to the NAWC, but the bad apples would possibly…”
“Hit their own kids,” I finished, letting a harsh breath out. “And you think the Alpha…”
“The Alpha is not a good man. He never has been. It seems like things are finally boiling over with that pack, and it’s going to destabilize the entire region.”
“Don’t think I don’t notice you won’t tell me his name,” I murmured, narrowing my eyes.
“Don’t think I’m foolish enough to think you would stay out of it,” he replied softly. “You have dangerous siblings, and if you go back to Hisao and say, ‘This Russian werewolf Alpha is abusing his submissive wolves,’ I don’t know what your brother would do. That’s scary.”
I nodded, grabbed my drink, cracked it open, then put it back down, a little frustrated.
“Fine, you’re right. If I thought…He probably wouldn’t. My family doesn’t get into werewolf affairs—”
“No, but you don’t see her as just some werewolf who died, do you?” he asked, pointing at me. “You see a woman who died, and you’re hoping that Alpha doesn’t survive. I don’t blame you. In fact, I respect the hell out of you, Jacky. But you’re a werecat, and we both know how ugly things get when your kind sticks its nose into werewolf affairs. Generally, with you nearly being executed.”
I winced. He was right.
“It sucks,” I mumbled, “that there’s nothing we can do.”
“It’s not our business. The only reason I know what’s going on is I’m still a recognized Alpha, pack or no pack. They’ll keep me up to date because there might come a point…If the Russian pack falls apart, there are a lot of wolves who will need new homes,” he finished, sipping his drink. “I wouldn’t bring them here, but there’s a chance I might need to help some.”
“You don’t sound too upset about that.” He didn’t seem to think of it as a burden or a potential problem, just acknowledged the possibility as if it was Carey coming home with a project from school, a thing that happened.
“I’m not. I would keep them outside your territory, help them recover, then find them a new home. It would be a temporary thing. I don’t want a pack yet, not for another decade, at least. I’m enjoying this life where there aren’t fifty-plus werewolves needing me every moment of the day. For the first time in Carey’s entire life, I’m home when she’s back from school almost every day. I won’t give that up for anyone or anything.” He looked at his drink, took another sip, and smiled. “I won’t give up on this either.” He waved a finger between us. “Bringing in a lot of wolves, starting a new pack…”
“You don’t need to finish that thought. I know.”
A new pack would mean he and I would have to distance ourselves from each other. There would be no more dinners at the Everson household, no more Mondays with Carey, no more stolen kisses when no one was watching. Neither of us wanted to stop whatever it was we were doing, but a full pack of werewolves would make everything too dangerous.
He didn’t continue, and neither did I. We enjoyed our drinks, and I thought about a young female werewolf dying in a hospital. I tried not to, but there was a processing time. I wasn’t sure why it stuck out to me. People died every day, and I had killed my fair share of werewolves, werecats, and vampires, but this one bothered me a lot.
“Is there really nothing the North American werewolves can do?” I asked softly, looking over the backyard. I heard Carey’s pony nicker in the barn, and my eyes flicked to it, instincts immediately perking up. I pushed them aside, ignoring the way my stomach growled. I avoided the horse for this very reason.
“Yes and no. We brought up the female to the Tribunal werewolves. They rule all of us and keep the peace between different councils. If they want to do something about the Russian pack which is way too big for its own good, they will. The European Werewolf Council is closer and might have more sway on the matter, and they have older wolves in that part of the world. Not much older, but older. If there was a need for a hostile takeover, the Tribunal would call on those packs. It would destabilize the entire region, though. A massive pack that covers most of Russia would have to be broken up. Alphas would need to step in and take in all of those wolves and relocate them to new areas or move to Russia.”
None of that sounded pleasant. I was about to say so when the door opened, and Landon stepped out.
Chapter Eight
“Lasagna is in the oven, and Carey is coming out to check on the pony. Might want to drop the conversation about Russia,” Landon informed us, grabbing a third chair from beside the house and pulling it closer. Heath and I nodded as Carey walked out, waved at us, then ran to the small barn. We watched her in silence as she disappeared inside.
“There. She won’t be able to hear now,” Landon said softly. “I didn’t know we were okay with telling Jacky about the Russia thing.” He pointed at his father but didn’t seem upset, just curious.
“I’m not going to do anything,” I said, hoping to ease his fears.
“She’s fine,” Heath tried to say at the same time.
“I know. Well, since you and Father are now an item-
“We’re not an item,” I cut in, but my protest was ignored. Heath’s shoulder shook with silent laughter.
“Which I figured was going to happen, I’ll tell you how I feel. The Russian pack situation is…” Landon growled. “I hate that Alpha. When I heard he got stabbed, I nearly celebrated.”
That shocked me. Landon never seemed celebratory, and with that statement, I was certain he hit his talking quota for the day.
“Have you met him, or do you hate him from afar, based on rumors?”
“I hate him very up close and personal,” Landon said with a snap of his teeth. “Being Father’s second, sometimes I have run-ins with other Alphas. Some try to sway me into their packs, some try to kill me when no one is watching. Some just call me a few derogatory names behind my back and play nice to my face. Alpha Vasiliev is the type who isn’t afraid to call me the ‘n’ word because he’s smart enough to know America’s history with it. Or a faggot. Not that he’s unusual for our community. I’ve gotten it a lot over my years. He’s just particularly venomous.”
I glanced at Heath and noticed how dark his eyes were as though he was ready to murder whoever would dare hurt his son. It didn’t matter that Landon was a powerful werewolf in his own right, Heath wanted to kill anyone who walked over his son.
And he’s judging me right now. He wants to know if I’m going to accidentally hurt his son.
“She doesn’t know, Landon,” Heath said softly, his eyes lightening a little. “I never told her.”