In the back of his mind, Fenrir stirred, a distant, prickly presence that Jono actively ignored.
“He won’t stick around forever.”
Jono barked out a laugh. “Bollocks. You don’t know what the bloody hell you’re on about.”
Jono knew that wherever Patrick went, he would follow. They hadn’t ever discussed that future possibility, and Jono half thought Patrick believed he wouldn’t stick around. Patrick would be wrong, but that was a problem in a future Marek hadn’t warned them about.
Right now, the gods wanted them in New York City, and that’s where they were putting down roots. The soulbond might tie them together, but it wasn’t the only reason Jono wanted Patrick, and it never would be.
“I’ve been sent to remind you that the packs in this city aren’t yours.”
Jono’s mouth curved in a hard smile. “Yet. They aren’t mineyet.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“I put you on your knees once before, mate. Made you show throat before your alphas. You want to go another round, name the time and place.” Jono leaned forward, gaze never leaving Nicholas’, picking out the anger in the other man’s eyes—along with the subtle hint of fear. “You tell Estelle and Youssef that if they go after anyone for coming here or into my territory, then I’ll consider it exactly what Sage suggested it is—evidence of intimidation the SOA and DEA lawyers would love to have.”
“Pack law will always come first for us. That’s something you’ve never figured out. That’s why you were never wanted in London or here.”
“Come back to me when you understand what the bloody fuck pack law actuallymeans,” Jono snapped. “It sure as shit isn’t selling those under your care to their deaths. It’s aboutprotectingthem. Now get the fuck out the bar.”
“I’m enjoying my drink.”
Jono snatched the pint glass back before Nicholas could grab it and poured the beer out on the floor behind the bar. “Not anymore, you fucking twat.”
Jono didn’t care about the mess he’d made; mopping always happened after closing anyway. Nicholas shoved himself off the barstool, a mixture of irritation and anger crossing his face.
“New York isn’t yours,” Nicholas spat out.
Jono smiled so hard it hurt. “It will be.”
The words were a promise, falling in the air between them like a weight. Fenrir pressed against Jono’s thoughts, clawing at his soul in reaction to the claim Jono wanted—the territory he knew should belong to him.
As was theirright.
Nicholas left the bar without a backward glance, but the tight, hunched curve of his shoulders was proof he didn’t like not having eyes on Jono.
Sage drummed her fingers against the counter a couple of times before grabbing her mobile. “I’ll let the ones who stopped by your place last night know what’s going on.”
Jono nodded, looking past her at the few faces turned their way, the mundane humans oblivious to what had just happened and the small group of witches gone back to ignoring them now that Nicholas was gone. The werecreatures looked like they wanted to be anywhere else but here, and Jono wished that wasn’t the case. He still beckoned them over to the bar and started closing out tabs.
They couldn’t leave quick enough, though the last one hesitated after taking back her credit card. She was a slight thing, of South Asian descent, her large brown eyes meeting Jono’s over the bar.
“Do you mean it?” she asked quietly. “That you want New York?”
Jono nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
She glanced over her shoulder at her drinking partner, a tall, African American bloke who stood close by with a protective stance. “We’ll let our alpha know.”
Jono didn’t know what pack they belonged to, but it said something that even after Nicholas’ threats, they were willing to think about a future not spent beneath Estelle and Youssef’s vicious rules.
The pair left, and Jono let out a heavy sigh. He went to retrieve Sage’s drink as she texted people. “One of these days, I’ll have no recourse but to kill him.”
“Nicholas is their dire. He knows the risk,” Sage said.
Jono carried the wineglass back to her spot and set it within reach. “Do you?”
Sage looked up and blinked at him. “Yes. I’m not going anywhere, Jono.”
