I felt resentful at that, but I didn’t know why. Yes, I did.Iwas a fighter. Or I used to be. “Is the Pack Council attacking us?” I asked him.
“Not yet.”
“Are you helping them?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m trying to stop them,” he said honestly. “I’ve been seeking allies, and I think I may have found that help with your alpha.”
I thought about what he said. He seemed completely open. It made me suspicious. “You didn’t ask for his help.”
“Not in so many words.”
I was feeling frustrated again. “You speak in riddles, shaman. You’d get on well with the druid.”
“Druids and shamans don’t usually make good companions.”
“Why is that?” I watched him “You are the vessel of Luna, and they are too.”
“I am a vessel of the Goddess, yes. A druid is a servant of the Goddess.”
Wasn’t that the same thing? “Um…what’s the difference?”
The shaman chuckled. “You will learn in time.” He looked over my shoulder. “Hmm, didn’t expect that,” he said. “Interesting.”
He disappeared just as I felt another presence.
Diesel’s wolf stalked towards me. He shifted into his human form and glared at me. “You’re not supposed to drift off,” he snapped at me. “Honestly, do I need to do everything?”
He reached for me, and I cried out at the sharp tug.
I woke up.
Chapter 22
Wolfe
“Who the fuck is this?”
I winced at the bluntness of Diesel’s question. “I’m guessing you don’t recognize them, then?” I asked dryly, hearing Killian cough to cover his chuckle.
All our fighters were behind me, spread out through the trees, watching the approaching pack, all of us ready to fight.
Diesel pointed to the back of the approaching pack. “See the size of that fucker?” he said under his breath. “There’s more than that one.” He started pointing to others in the approaching pack that were larger than average but trying to blend into the rest of their pack.
Killian peered at them. “Where’s Brand when you need him?” he asked, even though we knew Brand was at Four Winds. They’d secured their alliance, but the alpha had still lost a son, even one as useless as Tyler. They were grieving, and Brand, being the diplomat he was, was observing the rites with them.
“Why don’t you know them?” I asked Diesel waspishly. “You’re older than dirt.”
I flinched as his fist connected with my ribs. “I’m six years older than you, dick.”
“Alpha?”
I turned and saw an older shifter of Blueridge squinting down at the pack that approached. “I might be mistaken, but it looks like Emberfell Pack.”
“I know that pack,” I muttered. “Why do I know that pack?”
“One of the suitors who came here to win Rowen?—”
My growl cut them off. My wife and the wordwinshouldn’t be in the same sentence. “Dax? Was that his name?”
