Stone stares out his window, lost in thought. “It’s unusual for the wolves to bring outsiders into their affairs.”
Raiden makes a hum of acknowledgment. “It won’t be a warm welcome. With as desperate and hushed as Eric sounded on the phone, he reached out in a last ditch effort, and without his alpha’s approval.”
Stone shoots another worried gaze back at me. “And yet you think it’s a good idea to bring Amara into a warzone? Tangled up in wolf affairs that will no doubt make their way back to,” he winces, cutting himself off and looking away, dropping it.
Raiden doesn’t allow him to shut down, bringing the rest of Stone’s concerns to the surface for everyone in the car to hear. “Back to Acheron Wilder? Yes, I’m sure word of your mate will eventually make its way back to the bane of your existence. But Amara is not your old friend, and you aren’t the same man you were ten thousand years ago. Wilder has been kept in check because Aurelia succeeded in her goal; she removed the bastard from power, and even after all this time, he hasn’t been able to regain it. He thinks himself the sovereign of wolves, but he’s nothing more than a broken man sitting on top of a dying mountain, pretending otherwise.”
When Stone remains silent, Kodi gently adds, “Remember the vow we made the day we came home to Raiden’s sister missing?”
Stone scrubs a hand over his face and sighs. “No more being pawns. The only wars we would fight from then on were the ones we believed in.”
Kodi nods, capturing my hand and kissing my knuckles. “And I, for one, believe in a world where Amara stands by our side and people regard her with as much fear as they do us. The Garrison name sends shivers down men’s spines by reputation alone. Amara isn’t just our mate, she’s legion. And it’s time people learned she’s entitled to the same respect.”
Raiden pulls off down a dirt road, sending me rocking in my seat as it navigates all of the uneven divots and dips in the path. A tight fist wraps around my heart, the pressure in my chest increasing until my eyes burn. I blink rapidly, taking a few slow, deep breaths to center myself. In such close quarters, their scents are overwhelming, making the problem worse. Combined, they’re a wildfire; smoky woods undercut with the copper tang of blood. Each one is dangerous enough, but together, they threaten to consume me entirely.
“You’re right,” Stone whispers as the car veers off the road, coming to a halt between a few trees. “We’ve all lived in fear long enough. The newer generations don’t remember what we’re capable of; they’re due for a fresh example.”
We climb out of the car, my skin crawling with nerves when I don’t see a sign of anyone else. Not that Iwantto be surrounded by a bunch of pissed-off shifters, but their notable absence is alarming and feels a hell of a lot like we’ve been set up.
“Where is everyone?”
Kodiak stretches, tugging off his shirt. “The best part of these things are the dramatic entrances.” Opening the back hatch, he pulls out a metal rod, spinning it in one hand like a bo staff. Clad in only black jeans and his leather, fingerless gloves, it leaves him a metal-studded wet dream, toned muscles and desire for a fight on full display.
Raiden and Stone join him, stripping off their t-shirts to change into tank tops that have a thin strip running down the spine in a racerback design, and I have a small pang of envy as I understand. “We’re going to fly in?”
Raiden finishes tugging his blood-red shirt down over his black sweatpants. The outfit looks like something someone might wear to the gym, but it offers him full range of motion and projects a casual air of indifference that he pulls off well. No matter the situation or appearance, Raiden commands respect in an effortless way that has my little seed of envy blooming into something bigger.
“It’ll offer us an opportunity to assess the situation and make a plan of action before we land,” he explains before giving me an impish grin. “And it’s an excuse to stretch our wings. There aren’t many places safe for us to do so, so we jump on any chance we can.”
A flash of Stone’s massive mate mark on his ribcage pulls my eye, and I click the pieces together. Normally they don’t have to bother with shirts, but doing so would expose him now. Raiden wearing one means Stone won’t be singled out, and Kodi remaining shirtless will keep people from wondering why the sudden change the moment they got a mate and connecting the dots. It seems like such a little thing, but there were clearly dozens of thoughts that went into this single decision, controlling the image they want to project to the world. Between that and the gloves Kodiak is currently grinning at, I have a new appreciation for everything Raiden handles.
“Amara?” I turn towards Stone’s voice, mouth suddenly dry.
His tank top is as white as his hair, making his opalescent irises more pronounced than usual. Grey sweatpants have my lady bits weeping in appreciation, but it’s his wings that are my undoing. They’re massive things, the main lines mottled with varying shades of grey. But the real kicker is the leathery membranes, a swirling color of abalone with shimmering colors in the fading sunset.
He opens his arms sheepishly in offering. “Care to ride in with me, today?”
Ride you, you say? Well, if you insist. Twist my arm, why don’t you?
“Don’t mind if I-” I clear my throat. “I mean, sure, yeah. Sounds fun.” The lopsided smirk he gives me screams that he sees right through my nonchalance, but is kind enough not to tease me about it. “So, how do we do this?”
When I’m within reach, he bands an arm around my lower back, lifting me with ease. “Wrap your arms around my neck, and lock your ankles around my waist.”
I’m plastered to his front, and if I make it through this flight without getting pregnant, it’ll be a miracle. I’m not sure if I appreciate the safety my leggings offer, or resent them.
Both. Definitely both.
I brace myself as he bends his knees slightly, tightening my hold. He slides a hand under my ass right before launching off the ground, my stomach sinking like an elevator in freefall. Wind roars in my ears, strands of my hair whipping around my face as we rise, every heavy snap of his wings jarring me slightly, unintentionally grinding my pelvis over his waist.
Thank goodness for that third arm holding me in place, or I might fall.
There’s no use attempting conversation with the wind so loud in my ears, so I simply try to ignore the unnerving feeling of having my back angled towards the ground while soaring gods only know how far above the ground. I’m grateful that the only things I can see are sunset skies, and strands of white and brown hair whipping around in front of my face.
If I looked at the world from his angle, I’d have to face the fact that this part of me is missing. It’s easy to ignore on the ground, but up here? It’s never been more apparent that I’m a shadow of what I should have been.
Stone’s landing is jarring, and I would have fallen on my ass if it wasn’t for his iron grip. “You alright, beautiful?” he murmurs in my ear, keeping his voice lower than the mated wolves can pick up on with their heightened senses. But dusk is fast approaching, and soon, everyone will be equally able to eavesdrop.
“Pretty sure my legs are jelly,” I admit.
