Page 105 of The Huntress

Because he’s under surveillance. Leo suspects a few spies from the Drimari are within our Hold.

The suckblood council?She read Gabe’s thoughts.

At the snail’s rate he fed her information, she was ready to smack him. The council’s involvement was due to her, George, the infertility sample, and the death of Stavros. The de Winter Hold and the Knights Ridge alliance had added to their interest.

This development drained her. The exhaustion consuming her was soul-deep, and she exhaled a shuddering breath, wishing they could escape it all.

Why don’t we go on a vacation? Somewhere tropical. I haven’t had a break in years. Let Rhys deal with Metcalfe for a while. She will rope poor Mike in, anyway.

Gabe’s excitement streaming across their connection inspired the same within her. She could see herself lounging on the beach under a large umbrella, with George building sandcastles in the sand. In her imagination, a cocktail appeared before her, and a glance at the bearer revealed Gabe in nothing but a pair of swimming trunks.

“Done,” Gabe said, his voice hoarse.I’d love nothing more than to spend such a time with you, my love, and it’s just what George needs.

I’ll get George. You break the news to Dimitri and Mike.

Coward.Gabe chuckled.

Telling Dimitri they were taking George away for a while wasn’t going to be fun.

I’ll make it up to you.Callie kissed him, brushing her lips across his, meaning to tantalize and not satiate.

“I’ll hold you to that promise.” The look Gabe bestowed upon her, the love overflowing his heart into hers, completed her, and for the first time since Dad’s death, she was at peace.

Epilogue

HONOR AMONGST BEASTS

Rhystrudgedthroughtheforest, choosing his steps with care. He wasn’t in his werebear form, despite his inner bear nagging him to change. The sweet scent of pine teased his need to roam free, to hunt, to breathe in unpolluted air. His thoughts spun like a dervish. Within this month he had made an alliance with the vamps, found out that his former alpha had failed the pack twice, and on top of it, met the woman of his dreams.

Callista Devereaux.

Glorious molten hair, green eyes, and an attitude to match.

His bear grumbled, still furious at him for not taking her and saving her from a vamp. Rhys released a long sigh. He’d explained over and over that she wasn’t their mate. She was Gabriel’s. Blood doesn’t lie. Her blood called to his bear. Yet hers and Gabriel’s bond had formed on a telepathic level. They’d conversed, expressions crossing their faces even as words remained unspoken.

Missing a chance at her had doomed him to a life of loneliness, unmated and unloved, and because of this, many would challenge him for the role as alpha. He needed a mate to solidify his reign. There was still time before his pack would demand he choose anyone. Until then, he’d enjoy spending time with Callie as they built the paranormal unit.

He suspected she’d fall for that—asking the vamps to test her was necessary to prove her strength and his neutrality. He was far from impartial though when it came to her. Rhys had considered Valerie as a possible wife since she had the same blood in her veins, but she was more reserved than he liked. His pack needed a huntress or someone with a similar disposition. Now he’d have to choose from the surrounding packs and perhaps form alliances to strengthen his position.

Drawing in a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and focused on the task at hand. He was here, in the middle of the forest, on pack soil, to deal with the old alpha’s first failure. The canister had been the second failure—forcing him to make amends with the vamps by breaking with tradition and centuries of animosity.

There was no aroma of cooked food to greet him as he entered the clearing. Broken chairs littered the unkempt yard, and the stench of garbage wrinkled his nose. It had his bear grumbling, but that wasn’t what shot iced fury through his veins. The roar that tore from him was animalistic, his bear’s voice shredding his human vocal cords.

Four wolf cubs whined from within an iron cage, their own feces staining their paws. No one had taught them how to shift into human form, and the condition of their coats revealed they lacked nourishment.

He ripped the door off the cage, tossing it to the side. It scarred the hardpacked dirt with deep grooves and narrowly missed his beta, Noah. Since he shifted into a wolf, Rhys gestured to the frightened cubs, instructing him to take care of the little ones.

He stormed the dilapidated house, his steps vibrating the porch’s rotten floorboards. Rhys slammed the door open, breaking it off its hinges, then shielded his nose and entered, uninvited. Unwashed bodies, decayed food, and stale air assaulted him. What kind of a person lived like this? Raised children in this filth and tossed out little George to survive on her own?

Along with the disgust was the self-directed anger. How had he not known of this? Noah’s face held shock, so this was as much a surprise to him. How many other pack members lived like this? The scowl that tugged Rhys’s lips cramped his jaw. He clenched his teeth until they ached. Make that three failures he needed to attend to. No one, especially not a pack member, should live like this.

He walked down the narrow passage, his shoulders brushing the thin walls. Mold grew on sections under the peeling wallpaper, but the cold dampness didn’t make him shiver. The squalid desperation did. He peered into each room, finding the same conditions—a few unlivable—until he broke into the kitchen.

A woman—in nothing but a tattered dressing gown—sprawled on the floor. Discarded needles littered the filth around her. He raised his nose to the ceiling and sniffed, picking up the tell-tale scent of narcotics. Empty bottles of beer painted a larger picture. He didn’t see food anywhere, which meant she hunted, and only for herself if he judged the state of her children.

Rhys spun on his heel, exiting the lopsided house with a determination stiffening his shoulders. Noah arched a brow as he tried to hold onto the four scrambling cubs. Fear echoed in their yelps. Their distrust of anyone was clear.

“Burn it to the ground and if she manages to survive that, kill her.” Rhys scooped two cubs into his arms, and with a low growl, they quieted. “I want all houses documented—their location, condition, and occupants. This shit ends now.”

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