Snow Wolf: Wolves of Willow Bend (Book 9) (18 page)

“Amara never wished to go, she saw no purpose in it when she knew that Diesel would need her. He held off claiming her until she was almost twenty, then…well, mates want what they want. He was a good mate to her, always considerate and always strong.” The picture she painted left a lump forming in Ranae’s throat. “But I fear my daughter was not always a good mate to him.”

“I don’t understand.” She hadn’t meant to ask. She
shouldn’t
ask. Taking what the woman wanted to share was certainly enough.

Deidre leaned back in the chair and shook her head. “Diesel is a strong, determined man as you have noticed. Even then, he was a fierce protector and one of the strongest Sentries our pack had seen in a generation. Our Alpha at the time knew Diesel would be the one to take his place. There was no question of challenge. Instead he groomed him, taught him and, over time, began to transfer authority to him. The night Jorgen passed, the pack mourned, but not a moment of discomfort did we experience as the leadership settled expertly atop Diesel’s shoulders. The Sentries swore to him, and so did the pack. We’d all known, you see, so there was no need to settle it through combat or challenge.”

A shockingly clean and easy transition of power—and one she’d rarely heard of before. Even the most tacit of challenges could be offered when no combat was required. “It sounds like he was born to be Alpha.”

“Yes, and Amara threw herself into being the perfect mate. Yet there is no such thing…” Deidre caught a hint of condensation along the side of the bottle and traced it up the glass. “You see, mates should always challenge each other, provide a sounding board, and support—and be capable of telling someone when they are being too stubborn or are wrong. Arguments are healthy, debate is healthy…Amara did none of these things.”

“Ma’am, I don’t think you should have to tell me this…” It was too personal. Too intimate. Diesel hadn’t shared the information with her, and she had no right to intrude.

“Of course I don’t have to, but you’ve quarreled with him and now you’re tying yourself into knots. I’m telling you this because you should know—to be the mate to an Alpha means you have to stand up to them, especially when you don’t agree with their course of action. To be mate to an Alpha is to make them clarify their stance. No one else is in a position to challenge their authority without challenging their position. A mate, though? A mate is uniquely suited to the task.”

“I’m not…”

“It matters not that he hasn’t claimed you or you haven’t accepted. He has declared himself. His heart knows you, child. If your heart needs longer to decide, let it have the time.”

Chastised, she nodded.

“My Amara was many things, but challenging others simply wasn’t in her nature. Even if something terrified her or made her ill, she wouldn’t dream of expressing any wish contrary to that of her mate’s.”

A coldness gripped her spine, a sense of apprehension.

“You understand the pack transforms to run wild as our wolf halfs every winter during the long dark?”

“Yes.” She couldn’t imagine it, but she did understand the idea.

“Our young don’t begin to join us until they are sixteen, sometimes seventeen. In my youth, we did not have this sanctuary. Those of us who did not turn with the pack stayed with our tribal neighbors. The Inuit have ever been kind to us and always protected us. The majority of the pack would roam, and we would winter elsewhere. When the spring comes and the light returns, we made our way to Tikaani. Amara’s first full winter didn’t happen until she was nineteen.”

Caught up in the tale, Ranae frowned. “Why so late?”

“As I said, it was determined individually for each wolf. Neither my mate nor I felt Amara was ready, but shortly before her twentieth birthday, she mated Diesel.”

“And she went because he did.”

Deidre inclined her head, a soft sigh escaping her. “Sometimes I think I failed her because I didn’t teach her to speak her mind. That first winter was truly difficult for her, yet she insisted nothing was wrong when I asked. To Diesel, she hid her upset and discomfort. The next winter, it was worse. By the third…the third she did not return from.”

“Something happened to her?” No way Amara roamed alone. She had to have traveled with Diesel. He would never let anything attack her.

“She faded. In three short winters, the time spent as her wolf consumed her and there was not enough of her to return. When we all came together, Amara disappeared into the Tundra. Diesel spent nearly two years tracking every pack…but she was gone. Neither he, nor I, nor any of the Sentries, could find her.”

“But he’s Alpha and she’s his mate…how could he not sense where she…oh.”
Oh God.
The grief when the tether between Alpha and pack had to have broken—which meant his mating connection ended too. There were tales told in Willow Bend of the occasional wolf who faded, went wolf and never came back. Sometimes surviving mates did that, sometimes it seemed to be related to a disturbed personality or the mentally unstable. Other times it was purely depression. No one true cause.

“Exactly,” Deidre said with a sad smile. “He is a good Alpha, he lost his mate and he did not leave us, though over the last few years…I think he had begun to fade himself. There was no joy in him, no happiness, merely the work and obligations. Even his contact with the outside world became a thing of intricacy and demand he simply didn’t want to deal with…and in the few short days since you arrived, he’s come back to us. All of us.”

The burden threatened to crush her. “Thank you for telling me the story of your daughter and I’m sorry for her loss.”

“Darling child, I told you this because you quarreling with him is good. He has carried the weight of this pack alone for far too long. He needs to be shaken and good. So revel in the fact that you can stand up to him, and don’t give an inch unless it is what you desire.” For the first time since she’d run into Deidre, Ranae had the most unreasonable urge to hug her.

“I’m really good at arguing,” she admitted. She wasn’t always so good at doing what she was told, yet Diesel hadn’t given her orders. He’d left the decision in her hands.

Her hands.

The thought crystalized. He refused to order her. At every step, he’d wanted it to be her decision.

“Deidre, would you excuse me, please? There is something I need to take care of.”

The older wolf smiled. “Of course. Please…come see me again when you have time.”

“I’d like that.” When they both rose, Ranae gave into the desire and gave her a quick, if fierce hug. “I would really like that.”

After leaving her, Ranae retraced her steps to the public areas and pulled her phone out of her pocket. Diesel wanted her to make her own decisions. Fine. She’d made one.

If he wanted to go to Russia, no way in hell was he going alone.

Checking her signal strength, she fired off a text to Mason.

Sir, we have a problem…

D
isliking
the distance he’d forced between them, Diesel remained in their rooms long after she’d walked out. She hadn’t taken her things, but she’d left all the same. Drinking and brooding were two things he tried never to do at the same time. Pushing his Dove had been a calculated risk. The same calculated risk he planned to explore in Russia.

None of his Sentries possessed his knowledge of the landscape, either political or social, not to mention cultural. Few wolves knew he’d been to Russia. Even less knew he’d been there several times in his long life. He hadn’t told Dove the whole of it, but her immediate concern for his safety and the security of his pack both pleased and annoyed him in equal measure.

If he had to leave his pack to anyone, she’d proven to him she had the measure if not the awareness or knowledge as yet. When Jorgen took him under his wing, he’d told him that he’d always know his successor when he met them or at least the wolf most capable of becoming his successor.

Mates didn’t typically rise to fulfill the duties of their fallen lovers, but he and Dove weren’t fully mated. She could survive his loss far more easily if they weren’t. So, he poked at her like he would a bear, incited her temper and sent her storming off.

It had worked as he’d expected, so why did he find himself sick with the idea it might have worked too well? She had no way to flee across the tundra or to return to Prudhoe Bay. Julian’s vehicle had returned with him, per Grinder.

He drained the last dregs of the whiskey then stood. Wolves didn’t need vehicles to travel overland. They didn’t need anything more than their own four legs. The worry pricking at him, feeding his agitation was his own wolf’s awareness of the stubborn nature of their mate. If she were well and truly pissed at him as had been his intention, she might have taken that course of action.

The moment the thought took root, he snagged a pair of pants and strode out the door. He’d lost one mate to the snow, to her inability to tell him what she needed. Challenging Dove then not accepting her declaration for what it was because he wanted her to say the exact words to him rather than the sentiment alone was simply pride.

Furious, he strode along the pathway toward the central gathering point and the ascension stairs. Three steps from the door, her scent arrested him. Pivoting, he searched the area until his gaze found her sitting on one of the benches near a splashing fountain.

She typed swiftly on her phone. Relief curbed the worry curdling in his soul. Angry with her for being safe seemed an absurdity, yet there he stood experiencing the idiotic. The wolf clawed at him, eagerness to see their mate overriding his irritation. The man…Diesel drifted back a step until he could lean against the wall, tucked into the shadows.

Watching over her would simply piss her off further. He wanted her to fight him, fight for him—fight to be with him. Overhead, the light began to dim and his anger evaporated. He’d fixed the settings in their rooms, but the sanctuary would go into the night cycle on schedule.

The glow of her phone illuminated her face as the low wattage street lamps turned on one by one. Pushing away from the wall, he was already walking toward her when she lowered the phone and glanced at the fall of night. Anger, he wanted. A desire to fight and claim, he needed. Her fear? No, that he forbade.

“It’s all right,” he told her. Strain showed in her expression and her knuckles went white on the phone. “The lamps are coming on, see?”

Dove blew out a breath as she followed his direction. Her scent tickled his nostrils, sweetness, strength, and apples—apples?

“You had cider.” Irked, he didn’t bother to disguise his disappointment that someone else had introduced her to the joy of Chowder’s product.

Surprise marked by a hint of guilt widened her eyes. “Is that against some rule?”

“Of course not.” He slung himself down on the bench next to her. She turned off her phone and slid it back into her pocket.

“Then why so miffed?” She folded her arms then leaned back against the bench and the arm he’d slung behind her. The sensation of her resting against him settled his agitation.

“I’m not miffed.”

“Pfft.” The snort mocked him, but he spied the hint of a smile. “You sound miffed.”

“Chowder’s cider is a bit of a delicacy around here. A sweet treat with a bit of a bite and a—” He paused when she leaned into him, her nostrils flaring.

“Did you take a bath in a bottle of whiskey?”

“No. That would be a waste of good whiskey.”

Her laughter tugged a reluctant grin from him “Good. As for the cider, I blame Deidre. She saw me storming around and insisted I sit and talk to her.”

It was his turn to jerk with a hint of surprise. Amara’s mother? “What did she say?”

“Can’t tell you. Girl code.”

Girl code?
“What?”

“Girl code. It’s invoked whenever two women discuss private subjects. Particularly if it involves those of the opposite gender.” Sass decorated her tone. Sass and amusement rather than her earlier anger.

“You do know she would tell me if I asked.” He infused far more confidence in that statement than he felt. Deidre would do as Deidre damn well pleased, and he would no sooner order her to betray a confidence than he would force Dove to mate him.

“Then go ask her.” Was that an invitation to play?

Suspicious, he eyed her. “Why are you in a better mood?”

“Am I?” Leaning against his arm, she canted her head so that she could look up at him. The act also gave the impression of baring her throat to him. Impression, not act. It was an invitation to play.

“Yes,” he said, dipping his head down to nuzzle the sweet invitation of her lips. “You are.”

“Maybe I had time to think the whole thing out.”

“Go on,” he beckoned, nibbling a path along her jaw.

“You wouldn’t go into enemy territory if you didn’t have a plan.” She released a little sigh when he tugged on her earlobe.

“Clever wolf,” he whispered, then traced the shell of her ear with his tongue.

“You would never abandon your mate—even if she hasn’t reached the same conclusion as you.” Beautiful words from a beautiful woman.

“Yet,” he added for her as he nipped her throat just above the pulse point.

“Yet,” she conceded and his wolf wanted to burst free and howl. It wasn’t an outright declaration, but close enough to satisfy his absolute need for her.

“Thank you, Dove,” he whispered, raising his face so he could gaze into her eyes.

“Don’t thank me yet.” She nipped his lower lip, then laved the injury. “I said I understood you have a plan and that you have every intention of returning to me. But I think you need to know I have a plan, and I know exactly how you’re coming home…”

Intrigued, he raised his eyebrows. “How is that?”

“Because, I’m going with you.”

Not a chance in hell.

I
f she’d thought
Diesel’s cold rejection difficult, his very real fury at her involving the other packs in his plans proved to be red-hot. Though they still shared a bed, he’d barely spoken a word to her since she’d informed him they would be meeting a flight in Prudhoe Bay, from there they would follow his lead—but no, he wasn’t going alone.

At first, she worried he would leave her behind, but he hadn’t. On the other hand, three days with his barely saying a word even as he made arrangements to leave, then as they journeyed to meet Julian in Prudhoe Bay. She climbed back into that tin can and sat in the back while Diesel rode up front with Julian.

The flight sucked even more going back to Seattle than it had on the way up. They landed to find Etienne Andre of Delta Crescent, brother and second to Serafina, Trask, a huge, brutal looking wolf from Sutter Butte, and Luc Danes, second to Brett Dalton of Hudson River waiting for them at the private airstrip.

Diesel’s grim reaction had set her teeth on edge, but she sucked it up. Informing Mason had been the right choice. Her Alpha shocked her when he not only agreed with her assessment of the situation but also Diesel’s. The fact he made arrangements with the other packs to get representatives onboard, all ordered to let Diesel take the lead seemed a thing of miracles. Of course, she represented Willow Bend, but even if she hadn’t…she planned on going.

“We’ll be landing in China within the hour,” Etienne said as he rejoined them in the cabin of Delta Crescent’s private plane. The males had all taken residence in various sections of the cabin, all seated in chairs facing each other. She sat near Diesel, but he still didn’t say anything to her.

I am with him, and I will stay with him.
The need to protect him, protect her family, protect their packs overrode all else.

“Once we land, we proceed under Diesel’s command,” Julian actually managed to say the words with a straight face.

“If we’re going to use the buddy system, I’ve got the lovely Ranae’s back.” Luc winked at her. Though he definitely fell in the good-looking category, she wasn’t interested and she simply ignored the comment to glance at Diesel.

“A party this large will stand out.” Diesel said, he wasn’t looking at her but at Julian. “So I’ve made arrangements with a friend.” The low gravelly hum of his voice was a balm to her senses. She thought she could hold a grudge, but Diesel could teach a master class in it.

“How are we planning to cross the border?” Etienne’s deep brown skin reminded her of polished ebony. “And if little sister needs a partner,” he glanced at Luc. “You won’t be it.”

Save her from dominant males.

Diesel tapped his finger once. “We have permission from a small enclave of Chinese wolves who keep a landing strip in Northern China. They have an arrangement with the government, they keep guard on the border and the army leaves them alone. We’ll cross there.”

“Does the plane stay or go?” Etienne made no assumptions. He was all business, understated, but clever. At least that was how Linc described him.
At times he seems more like an accountant or a manager than a second to an Alpha. Then someone does something stupid…
It wasn’t the words so much as how her brother described it which made her laugh.

At first, Diesel waited so long to answer, she thought he might ignore the question. He’d ignored several since they’d met with the other wolves saying only the absolute minimum needed. “Stay, have the Hounds remain on board. The wolves will provide a refueling truck, but they should stay with the plane.”

“Done.” Etienne leaned back into his seat.

“So what is the plan?” Luc asked. “Not that hanging out with all of you in a foreign country doesn’t sound like loads of fun… but it really doesn’t.”

“You follow me and you do as your told.” Diesel pinned him with a look. “Or you can stay with the plane.”

“Leave the pretty little thing too and I’ll make sure she is safe.”

“The pretty little thing has a name,” Ranae said calmly. “And claws. If you refer to me like a piece of meat again, I’ll feed you your balls,
capiche
?”

The Hudson River wolf began to grin. “I knew I liked you.”

“If you would like me to hold him down,” Diesel offered, glancing at her. “I’d be happy to assist.”

Pleased that Diesel at least spoke to her again, she gave him a wide grin. “Thank you.”

“Luc, shut up.” Julian seemed as thrilled about their companions as Diesel. “What happens after we cross the border?”

“We have a friend meeting us with papers and transport. Our destination is a city called Lebeninsk in the Krasnoyarsk region. It’s a two-day drive, and we’re better traveling on two feet rather than four.”

“Something special about the town?” It was one of the first time Trask joined in the discussion.

“It’s a closed city, has been for fifteen years.” Diesel rubbed a hand against his jaw. A hint of stubble decorated the hard cut of it, and it tempted her to test the roughness against her own palm.

“What do you mean closed?” Her Russian geography was nil. If it was anywhere near a certain failed nuclear power plant, she wanted to be prepared.

“It’s an old cold war era trick, a city can be declared closed to all foreigners,” Diesel slanted her a look. “The government liked to do that when it wanted to protect security secrets or special installations. They limit the populace and keep them contained.”

Trask looked troubled. “So we’re going into a top secret government city?” Skepticism rose amongst the testosterone infused atmosphere.

“No,” Diesel said, then canted his head to meet her gaze. “We’re going to a wolf controlled city.”

“Wolf controlled? Wolves control an entire city in Russia? And the government closed it?” Even the calm Etienne appeared startled.

“You’d be surprised by what the wolves control, and what the government will do to keep them appeased.” Diesel’s gaze remained on hers. “It’s a dangerous place for foreigners, which is why they are forbidden as much to protect their secrets as to keep other wolves out.”

“How much of a problem are we going to have getting in? Wolf cities will have wolf guards.” Julian kept his focus on their preparations.

“Like I said,” Diesel said. “We’re meeting a friend.”

After that, no amount of questioning lured Diesel into a response. When the lights dimmed on the plane as it prepared to land in the night shrouded land she braced herself for the panic attack. In such close quarters, she had to keep it under control.

A hot hand covered hers, and the anxiety ebbed immediately. Someday, maybe she would grow out of the ridiculous reaction. Once they taxied to a parking spot and the lights came up, Diesel rose and tugged her from the chair.

“Give me a moment,” he ordered the others, then guided her to the exit door. He opened it and stepped out onto the tarmac.

Three wolves awaited them, two males and one female. Ranae did her damndest not to stare at the Asian wolves. Their scent was wholly unfamiliar, but then so was the air around her. A thrill skated through her and she had to lock down the wholly inappropriate flare of excitement.

Diesel squeezed her hand, then greeted each of the men in their language and bowed with such precision, she knew without a doubt he’d been there before. The men said something to him in short statements, then walked away leaving only the woman—who was definitely not Asian.

“Hello, Diesel,” the woman said, her gaze flicking to Ranae once then to him again. Her accent was perfectly American. Oddly, the woman seemed familiar. Ranae couldn’t place her, though. Tall, lean and athletic, she had a pixie cut of black hair with red streaks. “Your documents.”

“Thank you.” He accepted the envelope. “I appreciate your help on this matter.”

“I owed you.” She gave a brief smile, then glanced at the plane. “Well, this should be fun…does he know?”

“What the fuck is she doing here?” Julian’s harsh voice cut through the night.

A
fter brooding
for three days on how expertly his Dove had gone around him to make sure she was part of his journey, Diesel discovered her presence actually delighted him, even with all the danger they faced. Instead of being driven away by his foul temper on the subject, she’d endured.

His cousin Julian’s reaction to their guide, no matter how amusing, proved a larger threat. Dallas Dalton was a rogue and the white whale Julian had hunted for decades. One moment Julian stood at the steps to the plane, the next he loomed over Dallas.

“Good morning to you, too, Julian.” The female rose to the inherent challenge and tension spiked the air.

Fortunately, his cousin’s loss of temper occurred after he stepped foot onto foreign soil. “Julian,” Diesel kept his tone modulated, and even. “Dallas is our guide. Do not make more of this than it is.”

His cousin didn’t look away from the wolf before him. A quiet kind of rage simmered below his controlled surface. The other wolves had followed him, but wisely kept their distance.

“We don’t have time to negotiate or deal with egos,” he continued, aware of the way Dove positioned herself at his back, freeing him to deal with his cousin if necessary but also shielding him. The positioning so effortless it reinforced the quiet promise she’d made to him three days before. She hadn’t accepted…yet.

With absolute icy control, Julian said, “A word.” Then he strode into the darkness. To follow his cousin meant leaving Dove alone with the others. Etienne, Diesel could accept. He was a brother through marriage. Luc, however, might piss his mate off enough to cause a fight.

“I will be a moment. Are you all right?” he said to his Dove. It wasn’t pitch black, but it was far from light.

“Yes,” she kept her reply sub vocal. “I can see.”

Satisfied, he gave her hand a squeeze. “Try not to kill anyone while I’m gone.” Her snort of amusement soothed his concerns.

“Aww,” Dallas said after Julian left them. “No hello kiss?”

To the rogue, he settled for giving her a baleful look. “Don’t incite him.”

“But it’s been such a long time since I got to prick…the prick.” Still, she spread her hands in a gesture of false innocence. At his quelling look, she sighed. “Fine. I’ll leave him alone.” Then, all business, she added, “Get a move on. We want to be over the border before dawn.”

Diesel found Julian studying the darkened landscape. The cloudless skies and crescent moon afford a small measure of light, once they’d shut off the private runway.

“You knew she’d be here.” It wasn’t a question. Julian’s attention riveted on the rogue despite the distance.

“Yes.” No point in dissembling.

“Which means you have a way to contact her.” Also not a question.

“Be angry, but be quick.” Diesel sliced a palm through the air. “We are not in North America. She is not free for you to capture nor do you have the right to act here. In the matter at hand, she is an ally and a guide. We will move more swiftly with her assistance. The moment you stepped foot on land you fell under my purview. You agreed to follow me. Have you changed your mind?”

The weight of Julian’s glare slammed into him, his dominance rising, and Diesel lifted his chin and met like with like. They were too well-matched for either to overwhelm the other. “No.” With that, the aggression abated.

Clapping a hand to Julian’s shoulder, Diesel lowered his voice to near sub-vocal. “Can you handle her presence?”

“I have no choice.”

“Don’t try to take her here.” It was his only request and he didn’t make it an order.

Julian sighed. “Let us get this over with.”

Since he hadn’t invited his cousin on the mission, he didn’t apologize to him. Together, they returned to the group where Luc scooped Dallas into a hug, and the wolf laughed softly at something she said. Watching the pair, Julian remained expressionless. Diesel handed them their papers, leaving his Dove’s till last. She glanced at them. They were in Russian and she didn’t speak the language nor read it, so she wouldn’t see what Diesel had already noted.

Dallas had listed Dove as his. The choice pleased him, and eased the fist on his heart. With only light gear, they set off from the plane and loaded into a truck. From the moment he’d taken off in Prudhoe Bay, an internal timer ticked away within his soul.

Two days he’d been away from his pack. Two days to reach Lebeninsk. No more than twenty-four hours to locate any Volchitsa within the wolf controlled city, then to leave again. His pack could hold a week without him, the distance already wearing on his psyche. Dove’s presence buoyed him, but like his wolf, they remained watchful and wary.

Dallas knew the lay of the land, and it was her contacts Diesel utilized to make arrangements for smuggling them into Russia. Luc road in the front with Dallas while Diesel, Dove, and the rest took the back of the truck. It served two purposes—to separate Julian and his prey as well as putting Luc’s annoying presence elsewhere. Long before she’d gone Lone Wolf, Dallas Dalton had been a part of Hudson River. Rumor had it that Brett offered her a place to return which she’d declined so far.

Dove sat next to him, her thigh pressing into his and her head resting on his shoulder. The darkness in the back of the truck was profound, but she trusted him and that trust gave him strength. “Once we arrive, we will be going to one of the bars Dallas knows,” he filled in the group. “Lebeninsk is a wolf city, and it is controlled by one faction; however, it is a neutral city amongst the Russian packs.”

“What are the local rules of engagement?” Trask’s martial interest reminded Diesel of the losses Sutter Butte had sustained.

“Straight combat, one-on-one only and it has to be through direct challenge.” He focused on the other wolf. “I know the losses your pack sustained. Do not seek to resolve that debt in blood.”

“What is your goal, then?” Etienne braced himself as they bounced along a particularly unpleasant track of road.

“We want to find the Volchitsa presence within the city,” he told them after a long moment. His initial plan had included tracking the Volchitsa, then making the bastard tell him where their pack wintered. If he had to fight his way through Russia, he could—though the time involved threatened to be too costly. “Identifying the element is only a portion of the plan. A wolf named Alexandrovich rules Moscow. He and I have…a history of sorts.” If Dove wanted to know the details, he would tell her. The rest didn’t need to know. “He has contacts and wolves throughout the country, of all the packs in Russia—Moscow’s is the one no one tangles with.”