by Noah Harris
Noah nodded. “It’s rivers mostly. The heart of our territory is near the peaks of the mountain range, so there isn’t a great deal of water that’s capable of pooling into anything like the lake you have here. It’s mostly springs that run into the rivers, and yes, they’re not all that warm. They serve for bathing and washing, as well as preparing our food.”
Dante reached up to run his fingers through the branches of a tree as they passed. “I can’t imagine you guys grow a lot of your own food up that high.”
“We can grow hardy vegetables, but we don’t have the variety of plants that exist in more forgiving climates. Most of our food comes from hunting, gathering, and whatever we can trade for with neighboring septs such as your own. There isn’t always a lot available, but we’ve learned how to work with what we have and fill in where we’re lacking. It has helped to have alliances with septs such as your own. It’s made our lives considerably easier,” Noah explained, sounding pleased.
Dante had no doubt that having friendly trade routes had improved the lives of the people in Noah’s sept. From what he’d heard, part of the motivation behind the war between their septs had been over resources. Noah’s sept ruled over a highly mountainous region to the north, and resources weren’t always plentiful. The sept had been without many allies, and after a few hard years, desperation had driven them down the mountainside to take the resources they needed by force.
It had been a long and ugly war, taking a toll on all sides involved. Noah’s sept, the Sept of Stone’s Warden, wasn’t a heavily populated sept. Their low numbers hadn’t mattered during the war though, as mountain living had forged a strong and tough people. Their strength and desperation had been enough to pit them almost equally against a force that was better fed, and more at home in the chosen fields of battle. Every fight between septs had been ugly affairs, with casualties on both sides. It had been during one of those battles that his pack had been wiped out, due to both bad weather and opportune timing for the enemy.
Dante looked around, wondering what the forest looked like to Noah. “I suppose we seem soft to you guys, huh?”
“Not at all. There is no shame in having plenty, especially with how generous your people have been to their allies in the past. Being plentiful does not make one weak, no matter what some who have less might believe. A prime example is how your sept held their own admirably in the war between us. Even with superior numbers and better resources, a soft force would not have been able to fight the war as well and for as long as your sept did. It was your sept that eventually sued for peace, and while some of the more diehard among us might believe that was a sign of weakness, that your sept knew the war would eventually go against them, I disagree. It takes wisdom to see when a war will do nothing but drag on, wearing both sides into the ground. I would argue that it takes more strength to accept reality for what it is. Your Elders saw that the war would achieve little except destroy both of our septs and sought a solution that would instead benefit us both,” Noah explained, sounding perfectly content discussing politics.
“I never really knew too much about what was going on, except that sometimes my pack would go out to fight and leave me behind. Didn’t really ask too much about it after it was done,” Dante told him.
Noah looked at him curiously. “And why is that?”
Dante shrugged, feeling a little uncomfortable. “It was obvious no one wanted to talk about what had happened, especially to some pup who’d just lost his entire pack. Everyone wanted to move on from the war and move toward peace. I can’t say I was really in a position to demand or want answers from people. I spent a few years after that just trying to get a sense of normalcy back in my life.”
Noah nodded. “I think that’s very common in the young and those who aren’t warriors. It’s the duty of the warriors to bear the brunt of battle, and all the burdens that come with it. A warrior’s job is done well when those who don’t have to fight, don’t have to worry about fighting.”
It sounded noble, but Dante thought the alpha had the driest delivery imaginable when he said it. He was beginning to think that was how Noah said just about everything. Dante admired the steadiness Noah gave off and could see how that would come in handy as a leader, both on and off the battlefield. He couldn’t help but think that in terms of being a mate and lover, however, it wasn’t all that comforting.
He also wasn’t liking the subject anymore. “So, you guys have a Shaman?”
“Three actually, though one of them will be leaving soon,” Noah answered promptly.
Dante frowned in confusion. “How do you have three? I thought septs only had one if they had any at all.”
“Ah, my apologies, I should have been clearer. We have a full-fledged Shaman, trained completely and having served our sept for decades now. His granddaughter’s children have the gift of sight, and showed the ability to speak to the spirits at a young age. The son has been chosen to tutor under a Shaman of another allied sept, the Sept of the Emerald Isle. He will become a part of that sept after he’s passed his training, while the daughter will be staying in our own sept to do the same under her great-grandfather, our current Shaman,” Noah explained in that same even tone of his.
Dante snorted. “We werewolves really have a thing for ‘Emerald’ in our titles, don’t we?”
Noah gazed around at the lush forest. “I suppose it would be hard not to when you live in places as green as this. In order for us to see the green of our sept, we have to go further down the mountain. The fir trees are beautiful in their own right, but they don’t quite have the impact the lowland trees do.”
Dante really hoped Noah wasn’t trying to convince him to look forward to his inevitable move up into the mountains with him. After having spent his days among the woods, lakes, and streams of the Sept of the Emerald Wood, he wasn’t looking forward to the frozen peaks of Noah’s sept. If there was a way for him to negotiate being Noah’s mate, without having to uproot his life, he would have leapt on it in an instant.
“I suppose I’ll have to consider a sweater…or thirty,” Dante said with a sigh.
Noah smiled at him. “I have absolute faith that you will adjust to the difference. You come from a strong line of werewolves, after all.”
Again, Dante had the feeling that was meant to be comforting in some way. The man was trying, and Dante wasn’t going to shoot him down just because his attempt failed. Maybe if he waited long enough, Noah would actually hit the mark and he could encourage him from that point on. First things first, he had try to get some sort of emotion out of the man that wasn’t just a faint smile, or a pleased tone of voice as he spoke of politics.
As Noah continued to talk pleasantly, Dante found himself mentally slipping away from the conversation, measuring the time until he could actually slip away.
Chapter Seven
It felt strange, knowing that one day soon he would have to leave the territory of his own sept to join Noah’s. The Sept of the Emerald Wood was named appropriately, and it felt as if he were looking at the forest he’d known his whole life through different eyes. He had always been drawn to the lake that lay adjacent to, but on one side of the heart of the sept. It was usually calm and soothing at any time and during any season. The smell of the water and wet sand never failed to calm him from whatever frenzy he was in, and it seemed to have an even greater effect as the deadline grew closer.
The area around the lake was open, with stretches of sand or rocky land that made up the beach. There were a few patches, discovered by either him or Erik, that allowed a measure of privacy. The place Rosa had discovered Dante and Liam in was one of the more well-known places, and it wasn’t somewhere Dante hid out in if he truly wanted some peace and quiet.
That award went to a place a fair distance from the main paths. As far as Dante knew, the small patch of large, mossy rocks hidden away from obvious view was known only to Erik and himself. It was the place one or both of them would retreat to when they truly craved a moment a
way from the attention and scrutiny of the sept. The best feature, in Dante’s opinion, was the way the shoreline of the lake curved in, creating the shape that hid the place from view. It also allowed anyone hiding there to still soak in the lake. There had been many days he and Erik had hidden in the natural alcove, soaking in the clean waters, hidden from anyone who might have been looking for them.
Which was exactly what he was doing when his solitude was ruined by the soft sound of splashing water nearby. He shifted uneasily where he sat in the shallows of the lake with water up to his chest, wondering if he would need to retreat to the shore and retrieve his clothes. He wasn’t concerned about being found naked, as modesty about one’s naked body was practically unheard of with werewolves. It was the idea of his prime hiding spot being discovered that made him anxious.
Liam’s face peered out from behind a clump of reeds. “Don’t get up on my account. Unless you’re willing to give me a free show, then just make sure to throw in a wiggle for me.”
Dante relaxed at the sight of the Loner, wrinkling his nose up at him. “Are you the sneaky sort, or the tracking sort? Because I can’t figure out which role you had before you left.”
Liam cocked his head, still framed by the tall weeds. “For someone who’s going to be a big name in another sept, you don’t seem to know much about the other roles in a sept.”
“I do too, but Erik always said scouts tended to stick to one specialization over another. He’s the tracking sort. I had you figured for a scout, but...” Dante trailed off with a shrug.
Liam rounded the final bend so he stood in full view of Dante. “Scouts are taught both in the early parts of their training. I wasn’t around long enough to get the specialized training, so I’ve always just stuck to being both hard to find and being able to find people.”
“Well, I’ll give you credit where it’s due. You’re good at sneaking around, and no one else has ever found me here before today,” Dante told him, not sure if he was truly as irritated as he sounded.
Liam looked around, taking in the scenery with his dark eyes that still seemed to absorb everything even in the bright light of the afternoon sun. He was wearing only a loose pair of shorts, made of a fabric Dante didn’t recognize, which meant they’d probably come from human civilization. Despite being noticeably smaller than the average werewolf, Liam was powerfully built without looking too bulky. He also apparently spent a great deal of time outside, if the warm tan on his skin was any indication.
Liam kept active and it showed, which would have been enough to attract Dante’s attention. It was the scars that littered his torso that held his attention, however. He had seen the bodies of the sept’s warriors before, and Liam’s body resembled them in the sheer amount of scarring he had. It looked as if the former scout had seen as much battle as the most seasoned veteran in the Sept of the Emerald Wood. Dante couldn’t help but wonder how the man had managed to gain that many scars in a life that was meant to of been spent at the far edges of werewolf society.
Liam seemed to sense Dante’s gaze on him, turning slightly so the sunlight didn’t draw such a stark contrast between his scars and untouched skin. He made the motion seem graceful, but Dante spotted the discomforted look that flashed over his face. There was probably more of a story to the scars than simple battle, but Dante wasn’t going to ask. He’d already felt like he’d asked too many probing questions and didn’t want to push it.
“I probably shouldn’t have come looking for you. Saw you disappear from the crowd earlier and eventually wandered around until I found you,” Liam admitted with an almost sheepish expression.
Dante gave him a bemused look. “What makes you think I wouldn’t want you to come find me?”
Liam laughed. “I’m pretty sure your caretaker gave you a talking to about associating with the likes of me.”
That was true, but Dante wasn’t going to get into that with Liam. “My love life might have been written out for me before I even considered dating, but that doesn’t mean everything in my life is determined by anyone but me.”
“I notice you didn’t deny that she told you to stay away from me,” Liam pointed out wryly.
“She didn’t,” Dante replied, since Rosa hadn’t directly said that.
Liam’s smile was almost shy. “I remember her a little, from years ago. She was…well, from what I remember, she was a lot like she is now. Nice to see things don’t always change when you aren’t around.”
Dante grinned. “I think she came into the world ready to chew anyone and everyone out for forgetting to wipe their paws at the door. She’s been in charge of making sure I eat and don’t kill myself by doing something stupid since I lost my family. Everyone always calls her by some title, but to me, she’s just Rosa, like I once called my mother ‘mom.’ It’s just how it’s been for me.”
Liam nodded. “It’s good that you have someone like that. She seems like a good fit for you.”
“Because I need to be yelled at?” Dante asked teasingly.
“That’s exactly why,” Liam shot back with a grin.
“You don’t even know me,” Dante said slowly, curious.
Liam shrugged. “You listen to people enough, you start to pick things up. You’re the talk of the sept, and people don’t always pay attention to the fact that I might be lurking around somewhere behind them. I’ve heard enough to know you’re not quite the perfect little candidate to a legacy that the rumor mill outside of the sept makes you out to be.”
That rankled, annoyance flaring in Dante’s head like a pinprick of heat. Before his emotions could find purchase in words however, he caught the devilish glint hidden somewhere in Liam’s dark gaze. The corner of Dante’s mouth twitched, unable to stop his flare of anger from dissipating, but still willing to try to fight his laughter.
“I guess it would be kind of dumb to try and deny it,” Dante finally admitted.
Liam stepped closer as he spoke. “I think you like being difficult.”
“Is that so?” Dante asked as he considered getting up to fetch his clothes.
Liam nodded, the sunlight in his dark hair illuminating faint streaks of red. “I can’t say I blame you. Everything in your life was determined for you before you could even think about saying no. You might inevitably do what they want, but it’s more fun to make them work for it, right?”
It was Dante’s turn to shrug. “Can’t say I ever gave it that much thought. I’ve just…always been like this. Even as a kid, my birth mom was always exhausted trying to wrangle me. I remember my dad always used to laugh when she complained about some mischief or another that I got into. Sometimes, I wish I’d gone easier on her.”
Liam chuckled. “So, you think your caretaker, Rosa, came into the world ready to keep everyone in line. But you don’t think your mom didn’t realize that you came into the world ready to raise some hell?”
Dante shook his head, smiling. “I don’t cause that much trouble. I just…stray from the path every now and then.”
Liam gave a grunt of agreement, even if the playful look on his face said he didn’t believe a word of it. “Does that straying involve you getting up and putting on the clothes you keep glancing at?”
Dante sighed, knowing he’d already been found out. “I’ve been thinking about it, but I’m super comfortable at the moment. Well, that and I’m pretty sure I’ve sunk into the mud from sitting here for so long.”
Liam chuckled, extending a hand out to him. “Here, let’s see if I can help without getting thrown into the mud myself.”
Their hands met, fingers curling around one another as Liam prepared to help heave Dante to his feet. Dante didn’t realize how warm the other man was, even standing in the cool waters of the lake, until their skin touched. So warm in fact, that it felt as if it pooled out from Liam’s hand, snaking into Dante’s own hand and down the length of his arm as he instinctively continued to stand up.
He wasn’t nearly as stuck as he’d suspected, coming free from the mud
at the bottom of the pool with ease. His eyes remained locked on Liam’s as he stood to his full height, fingers never releasing their hold on Liam’s hand. The odd mingling of heat between their palms crackled with that same potential energy from the day they’d spoken on the other beach. The physical contact between them was enough to make the potential surge back to life, bringing forth a new wave of promise. Dante’s chest felt as if it were both swelling and inexplicably tightening simultaneously as his breath caught in his throat.
What he’d hoped was a clever comment died on his lips as he stood there, wondering what was happening to him. The potent mixture of earth and water that came from Liam was even stronger as close as Dante was, with the shadowed hunger that lay beneath it all calling to something within him.
His heart stuttered in his chest as his lips dried, and he realized he wanted nothing more than to lean forward and press his mouth against Liam’s. Dante didn’t want to stop at just their mouths either. He wanted to feel that alluring warmth of Liam’s body pressed firmly against his own. He wanted to trace his fingers over the man’s muscles, run his tongue along the curves of his hips, learn and memorize the paths of the scars on his body. It was an absurd rush of emotion, desire, impulse, and need that Dante had never experienced in such a potent, heady combination before.
Liam’s eyes were wide, the pupils so large they almost overtook the deep brown of his irises. Dante watched in fascination, as Liam’s tongue darted out to nervously draw over his bottom lip moistening it. Liam’s fingers trembled slightly, coming to life as the Loner slowly drew them out of Dante’s grip.
Dante blinked rapidly, clearing some of the fog that had filled his head. “Uh, thanks?”
His words seemed to break the moment between them, emotion rushing into Liam’s eyes as he took a hesitant step backward. It was impossible for Dante to read Liam, every emotion flaring to life and disappearing in an instant, too quick to be noted. He seemed to be visibly fighting with himself, though Dante didn’t know if the fight was to stay standing where he was, or to continue his retreat.