“Do we have something to celebrate?” Josie asked, his tone almost jovial. He glanced past Dimitri and winked at Rosa.
Dimitri growled and moved to block Josie’s view of her. “If we did, you would have fucking received an invitation.”
“Good to know I’m still on your invite list.” Josie still didn’t sound mad.
The werewolf was strange. In spite of his alpha tendencies, Josie never seemed upset about anything. Even his thoughts were calm now that Dante was outside.
“I need to send those two out of here.” Dimitri headed toward his front door, then glanced over his shoulder. “Stay in here with her until I come back.”
Maura moved to her side the moment Dimitri was out of the house. Josie turned his back on both of them, guarding the door and blocking their view of the males outside. Still, the harsh aromas of hostility and intense determination drifted into the living room.
“What’s going on?” Maura asked quietly, sniffing the air around Rosa the moment she was next to her.
“I wanted to go to the Werewolf Affairs office with Dimitri.” Rosa glanced past Maura at the fire in the fireplace.
Flames roared around the burning logs. It was like there was a passion, like the intensity of all the emotions around them fed the fire and gave it enough life to continue raging without being attended. She gazed into the orange and red flames, feeling the strength from it.
“That’s a good idea, especially now.” Maura nodded, then glanced at her mate’s back. When she searched Rosa’s face, a soothing aroma of concern and compassion floated around her. “Have you two mated?” she whispered.
Dimitri’s scent was so deeply embedded in her that even the smell of soap and shampoo wouldn’t hide it. It was the deep scent that resulted from intense lovemaking, the kind werewolves did to mate. Rosa couldn’t blame Maura for wanting to know. It sure smelled like they were mated.
Rosa gave her a hard look. No way would she confirm or deny a thing when Dimitri never mentioned anything about mating. His thoughts said one thing, but he hadn’t voiced them. She wouldn’t speak for him.
When she didn’t answer, Maura glanced at the floor, then over at Josie. The werewolf had his back to them, but Rosa heard his thoughts, even though Maura couldn’t. He held on to every word they said. Maura was simple to read, her mind such an open book. She guessed her mate paid attention to them as much as he did the werewolves out front.
“I just wanted to know if I should honor you as my queen bitch now or not,” Maura added, then grinned and gave Rosa a hug.
“Queen bitch,” Rosa muttered. “I never thought about that.” She looked into Maura’s concerned blue eyes and shook her head quickly. “I mean, I guess I haven’t allowed my thoughts to go that far. Just honor me as your friend. That is good enough for me.”
Maura grinned broadly. “You’re already that. Accepting me into your pack gives me plenty to honor you for.”
Dimitri wasn’t thrilled at all that his older littermate and his best friend both had lunewulf bitches for mates. Rosa liked both bitches though. Having run around a good portion of Europe as a cub with her den, she was used to mingling with different breeds of werewolves. Rosa smiled at Maura, knowing she was a good addition to this pack.
One of the werewolves outside howled, and then there was a scuffling sound. Josie raced out of the den and Maura screamed, hurrying after him.
Rosa grabbed the back of her shirt. “Don’t race out there and get yourself hurt.” She pulled the struggling bitch to her as she stared out into the yard.
Chapter Eight
Dimitri itched to hit Dante again. As the werewolf stumbled backward, an incredible force ripped at Dimitri. He couldn’t keep his balance. The ground suddenly raced underneath his feet at a speed too fast to keep up with—like being tossed on a conveyor belt and trying to keep his balance. He fell backward, unable to keep his feet underneath him.
Dante slowly crawled to his feet, his eyes burning with rage as silver streaks made them glow.
“Attack like that one more time and you won’t have a pack,” Dimitri hissed.
“I founded this fucking pack.” Dante shifted his jaw back and forth, probably insuring that it still worked.
“Then don’t fuck it up and lose your standing in it.”
“I’m not the one crossing the line.” Dante’s words garbled as his teeth extended and his black hair began to grow, looking thicker and tousled. The change was about to consume him.
Dimitri’s blood pumped inside him a bit too hard for his human body to handle. Changing into their fur would make this a fight to the death. He had no problem with that if he believed Dante wouldn’t use the gift. But the asshole didn’t know how to fight without it.
“Like hell I don’t,” Dante growled, hearing Dimitri’s thoughts and coming at him with raised fists.
“You just proved my point.” Dimitri didn’t back down when the werewolf was inches from his face. He felt the heat from Dante’s breath burn his flesh as he glared at him. “Stay out of my head. Turn that gift off, if you can master the strength to do that, and then we’ll find out how strong of a werewolf you actually are. Are you willing to fight for your cousin under those terms?”
“Whatever it takes to keep your paws off her,” Dante growled, his teeth pressing against his lower lip.
Suddenly Josie stood next to him, studying Dante while Juan took a step closer, watching all of them warily.
“Maybe the bitch wants to be with him.” Josie’s calm tone didn’t fit into the hostile surroundings. “A werewolf fights with honor when it’s clear why he is fighting.”
Dante growled, growing before them as his outraged glare turned on Josie. “Like you have a fucking clue about honor, mating with a lunewulf after killing her mate. Hell, they called for first blood because of your so-called honor.”
Josie didn’t blink. Not one muscle in his body moved. Yet suddenly Dante flew backward, soaring through the air with enough speed that when he hit a large tree trunk on the other side of the road, he slid down it, his body going limp on the ground. And still Josie didn’t move.
“Stop it!” Rosa ran into the yard and grabbed Dimitri’s arm, squeezing it hard with her small hand. “You must stop this, Dimitri. Please. The four of you aren’t fighting over me. It’s deeper than that, and you know it. Do you really want to lose four good werewolves because of your differences?”
Her imploring look melted his heart. What in the hell did a bitch as perfect as her see in a werewolf like him?
Taking her hand in his, he removed it from his arm. She searched his face, trying to find the answers to her questions.
“He would have quite a lot of honor to fight for your well-being, my little bitch,” he told her.
She smelled of his fireplace and of warm compassion and just a small amount of spiciness from anger. But mostly she smelled of him.
“I don’t want him fighting for me,” she whispered.
He understood her meaning. But didn’t she see that he just told Dante he would fight him? Without commenting, simply because he wasn’t sure how to word his thoughts, especially in front of Josie and Juan, he turned from her and walked over to where Dante lay slumped on the ground.
“Werewolf. Talk to me.” He pushed Dante’s shoulder with his boot, then slowly knelt next to him and moved his fingers to the male’s neck and felt his pulse. It throbbed strong and hard. Dante simply had the wind knocked out of him. But Dimitri couldn’t swear there weren’t any broken bones. Glancing over his shoulder, he smelled worry and something else—possibly frustration—on the two werewolves watching him.
Josie and Juan stood in the middle of the road, silent and expressionless. But Rosa hurried to his side, her hands instantly running over Dante’s body. Her touch managed to bring him to just as Maura moved to stand by her mate.
“Don’t try to stand,” Rosa ordered him.
Dante didn’t look too with it when he gazed up at her, then looked at Dimitri.
Dimitri looked over at Josie. “You and Rosa, use your gift and lift him into the truck. Stay with him a moment, though, while I get some blankets to put under him. Juan, contact his mate and let her know you’ll be bringing him to their den shortly.”
His pack members nodded, and for once, no one argued with his orders. Nonetheless, a dull, throbbing headache pulsed at his temples.
Rosa didn’t like being ordered to accompany her cousin to his den. She would get over it though. Dimitri would show Dante, and everyone else in her den, that he wasn’t cold-hearted. Rosa did something to him. Her open desire for him, the way she looked up at him like he was damned near perfect, ate at the wall that he always believed was permanent around his heart.
Any sane werewolf wouldn’t let a bitch like that get away.
Dimitri was pretty sure that he was sane—most of the time.
Not to mention he had swelled inside her. He wasn’t a werewolf to turn his back on tradition. And he could have pulled out of her, could have prevented his scent from seeping through her pores. Damn it. He didn’t want to.
There would be no announcement made, though, until he talked to Rosa. Both of them would have to understand, and agree, that their mating would bond them together for life. It was something he believed she already understood. Nonetheless, the proper way to handle this matter would be to discuss all of this with her. Her cousin showing up prevented him from doing so.
It wasn’t because he hesitated or wasn’t sure how to broach the conversation.
Dimitri parked in front of Werewolf Affairs and stared at the simple building for a minute while trying to clear his thoughts of Rosa and focus them on what needed to be said while here.
The same bitch gave him an indifferent stare when he let the door to the place close behind him. The warmth of the office surrounded him, along with the stale smell of boredom. Rosa’s words about servitude came to mind and he worked to relax his expression and his mood before speaking.
“I dropped some paperwork off here yesterday,” he began.
“I remember you.” The female sniffed the air then glanced back at the paperwork on her desk as if their conversation had just ended.
“Then you remember that I told you I would be back today.” He knew his tone was short, and again tried to repeat Rosa’s words in his head. There was only one way to get through to these werewolves. He tried for a more congenial tone. “Is there someone available right now?”
“I’ll check.” She didn’t act like she appreciated his calmness.
Dimitri stood alone for a long time in the outer room and stared out the glass doors at the open field across the highway. It would be sunny today. The pale blue sky spread forever and the mountains provided a jagged border, with their white and gray coloring adding to the peaceful setting.
The majestic scene in front of him didn’t capture his attention as much as the smells and sounds behind him did. He turned, paced the length of the small entryway, glared at the unoccupied desk and then at the doors that led to the inner offices. More than anything he wanted to barge through them and demand attention.
Territorially speaking, this office was in American werewolf territory. They would honor Ollie Grayson, the pack leader here, before him. But then they would come up with any reason if need be not to honor his wishes. He smelled it on the bitch the moment he entered her space. Lack of trust, hatred, leeriness.
He growled at the doors then turned his back and paced again. They were intentionally ignoring him. It pissed him off.
Dimitri wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of smelling anger and frustration on him.
Think about Rosa.
For months the hot little bitch flirted with him. Any time they were together in a group, she sniffed her way toward him, her desire obvious. Not once did that little bitch try covering her scent. Gossip flew—hell, a pack would howl about anything—but they also commented on his obvious lack of interest.
And that pissed more than one male off.
Dimitri was more than aware the other single males growled over the unfairness of such a stunning single bitch ignoring all of their advances. It wasn’t his fault she sniffed after him and shunned the other males. They didn’t understand how much work was involved in leading this pack. All most single males cared about was getting their dicks wet. There were a few, like Josie, who had his back. But even his lifelong friend didn’t care to get overly involved with pack politics.
Dimitri was a government of one. Most viewed him unapproachable, an angry werewolf with a chip on his shoulder. He was a good pack leader, and he hadn’t sniffed out anyone in the pack who thought differently.
But then Rosa went and flooded that little slut’s den. He would give her this, she got his attention. When he marched over to her den and then took her with him in his truck, her wonderfully sweet scent somehow crept deep into his system. And it was still there.
This office was filled with stale and stuffed emotions, but he could smell Rosa on him. And her saddened expression when he told her to tend to Dante still burned in his mind. She wanted to be with him.
And he liked having her around.
But he had a job to do. Pack leaders ran alone, ahead of the rest of their pack, clearing the way, insuring their safety and giving them the best life he could provide.
They don’t run alone if they have a queen bitch by their side. The nagging voice in his head would only distract him if he dwelt on it.
“Dimitri Spalto?” a male asked behind him.
Dimitri turned around, taking in the young male suffocating in his suit and tie. Who the hell decided werewolves should wear such human attire?
“Yes,” he answered, his gaze wavering from the young male to the bitch who had disappeared earlier, leaving him to his thoughts here in the waiting room.
She returned to her desk, barely glancing at the males standing next to her before resuming her work.
“I hear you would like to set up an appointment to have someone go over paperwork with you.”
Dimitri glared at the bitch sitting at the desk. She ran her hand over the side of her hair, possibly hiding her face from him, but didn’t look up. He returned his attention to the male waiting for his answer.
“I don’t need anyone to go over the paperwork with me.” He would stay calm. No matter how badly he wanted to grab the werewolf by his nicely secured tie and yank on it until enough color returned to the male’s face to convince Dimitri he was actually still alive. He kept his expression calm and stared into the stifled male’s bored expression. “The paperwork is completed and here in this building somewhere.”
“I have it,” the male said, his tone fucking lifeless. The poor bastard probably hadn’t had a decent hard-on his entire adult life. “Did you want to make an appointment?”
“I’m here for that appointment. And I was here yesterday. My pack needs funding.”
“Most packs do.”
Not like his pack did. “Most packs I’ve seen around here already have roads and schools and stores.”
“How long has your pack been here?”
Dimitri had a feeling the male already knew the answer to that question. “About a year.”
The male nodded, then reached inside his suit jacket and pulled a card from his pocket.
“Set up an appointment and we’ll go over the paperwork.”
Dimitri took the card. The male nodded once and then turned and disappeared behind the doors leading into the rest of the building. The female didn’t look up at him.
He was being dismissed. More than likely the male walked back to the offices and strained muscles in his face to smile at his peers. He would proceed to brag about how he got rid of the Malta werewolf.
Muscles strained inside him as he fought the overwhelming urge to tear down those doors and remind the werewolves in this building what it was like to experience raw and untamed adrenaline. These government pawns forgot what it was like to live.
Worst yet, th
ey forgot why they were here in the first place. “Make that appointment,” he said to the bitch behind the desk.
When she looked up, after taking a moment to finish doing whatever it was she was doing on her computer, she looked confused by his statement.
“You want to make an appointment?” she asked.
Dimitri wouldn’t let her insult his intelligence. Although she did a damned good job of insulting her own. “Just following your rules,” he said, never taking his attention from her.
“Of course you are.” She tapped her nails over her keyboard, making a repetitive clicking sound and then sighed loudly. “Looks like our first appointment time is June second at nine-thirty.”
“Nine-thirty? And not until June?” If he didn’t throw her desk across the room, it would be a damned miracle. “What kind of werewolf wakes up that early? And both times I’ve been here, there hasn’t been another soul coming or going. You’re going to tell me the first appointment I can get isn’t until June?”
“Do you want the appointment time or not?”
“Fine. I’ll be at that appointment.”
He smashed the card between his thumb and forefinger and walked out of the building. Cold, damp air hit his face, cooling the anger that threatened to boil over inside him. His boots clunked against the cleared concrete sidewalk as he headed to the parking lot where his truck was parked.
“This is bullshit.” He’d tried Rosa’s path. He’d kept his cool, was fucking nice as hell to that bitch inside WA. And it had gotten him nowhere. “Fucking bullshit.”
The pack would be better off if he could figure out another way to get the money needed to pave their roads. To hell with zoning. If the government didn’t give a rat’s ass about them, they sure as hell wouldn’t take the time to come visit his pack. And if they did, and they didn’t like what they saw, then maybe they would approve the zoning.
“One way or the other,” he mumbled, reaching his truck.
He stopped when he realized it was running and then noticed his passenger. Pulling his driver’s side door open, he slid into his seat, instantly feeling the heat blowing at him from the vents in the dash.
'Til Death Page 10