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Kiara tried to understand how she’d gotten here, standing near the rear bumper of Alpha Warren’s Border Patrol SUV, all but stalking him.
Except she wasn’t. She had a connection to him she didn’t yet understand. But whatever it was, she knew her role in his life was critical to the future of Savage Territory and possibly even Five Bridges.
She didn’t like being an alter witch, but fate or destiny or the gods, or whatever, had sent her here. So, she would do all she could to serve her new world.
Warren was her role model. He laid down his life for not just his pack, but every wolf in Savage, every night. The least she could do, given the present threat, was to help make sure he stayed alive.
She gave voice to her biggest concern. Do you think Julio intends to move against you? As in, tonight? Julio was an ambitious man who worked for the cartels. She’d seen him a few times. He was a big man, almost as tall as Warren and well-muscled. He wore his long black hair in a multitude of braids with small silver and blue beads as accents throughout.
She watched Warren take a long look around, beyond the street to the strip center opposite, the buildings next door, the parking lot. He took in every detail, his gaze scanning intently. I think he’s been working up to it.
In recent months, Julio had taken over two packs, assassinating their alphas. He’d gotten the deed done so fast, neither Warren nor Alpha Fergus had known about it until it was too late. Julio had forged the bond swiftly and ended the possibility of an intervention. Once a pack acknowledged its leader, the relationship was sacrosanct unless the alpha died, dissolved the bond or was supplanted in a dominance battle. None of these seemed likely to occur in the near future.
See anything unusual? She asked. She fixed her gaze to him as he kept looking.
Nothing. A distant flash of lightning lit up his face. His scars looked like a patchwork of silvery rivers. She bore similar scars on her chest from a recent abduction by a dark witch. She’d been tortured for three weeks with a flesh-consuming poisoned paste. She would have died if her friend Maeve and her bonded wolf-mate, Braden, hadn’t rescued her.
Maybe that was part of the reason Kiara was here. She’d been given a second chance and she wanted to be sure she used her time and power as wisely as possible.
Dark forces were moving in Five Bridges and not just in Savage Territory. Each of the territories that made up their confined world was under siege. The cartels that produced and sold a variety of flame drugs kept working to solidify their power. Anyone standing in their way got mowed down.
The three main cartels running drugs in and out of Five Bridges had ramped up their operations. Sex trafficking was at an all-time high. But there was a third element that had her more concerned than
anything else. The flame drugs and alter serum that had created the five alter species, had unleashed more preternatural power than anyone yet understood. Warren, with his bizarre storm-related abilities was a perfect example. If his powers were rising, and to a similar degree, her own, what other alter species were also increasing in power. Not everyone was good, like Warren. In fact, it seemed the other way around.
She even suspected Julio may not have acted alone. If he’d had assistance in taking over the packs, who was helping him?
With her gaze still settled on Warren, she wasn’t surprised when the ends of his hair started lifting into the air and flowing in waves. She’d seen this happen twice before. Once when a storm approached like the winds now picking up from the north. The other time had been just two days ago, though there hadn’t been a cloud in the sky. Instead, he’d been on patrol and had been duking it out with a wolf high on emerald flame.
She’d watched at a safe distance. The wolf had been like a maniac because of the drug. A dark green flame pattern had pulsed on his neck indicating his addiction. The drug had also enhanced his abilities, giving him more strength and agility than he would normally have had. He’d elongated his jaw and brought his wolf canines into play. He could have easily bitten Warren’s throat in half.
Warren, seeing the threat, had revved up his adrenaline. The result had been first the movement of his hair, then small sparks of lightning flickering up and down his arms. He’d levitated and flown in a tornado-like circle around the wolf, punched him in his kidneys and brought him down. She’d never seen an alter creature whip through the air with such speed, as though disappearing then reappearing in a new spot.
Afterward, with the wolf cuffed inside the SUV and fully incapacitated, Warren had paced next to his vehicle. He’d rubbed his arms and stomped his feet as though trying to get rid of the excess energy.
She’d remained at a distance but had felt his storm. She’d found the sight of him a completely exhilarating experience.
She called it his storm power. But what did it mean? Why did he possess it? Was this what had called her to move in stride beside him, though cloaked with her invisibility spell?
What she feared, however, was something more human in nature. As her gaze took him in, head-to-toe, a longing deep inside her came alive. Warren was a god, scarred up a bit, but a god all the same.
He wore the Border Patrol uniform of all Five Bridges officers: Black tank, black leathers, thick boots. It was hot in July in the Phoenix Metro area. His skin glistened with sweat, which seemed to enhance the contours of his muscled frame. Leather wouldn’t have been the choice of humans, but something about the alter condition made it better for the officers.
He was six-six with thick, heavily muscled shoulders set off by his tank. His good eye was an exquisite emerald in color, his brows arched and strong. Without the scarring, he would have been movie-star handsome with a rugged chin, straight nose and high chiseled cheekbones. He wore the right side of his long blond hair in a thick braid. Loose strands clung to his bare arms. She resisted the urge to draw close and peel them off.
The left side of his face, his eye, and two inches of his scalp were heavily scarred. No hair grew from the damaged skin in the section above his ear. He’d covered the scars with sexy tattoos. His hair on the rest of his head was a thick blond mane that ran halfway down his back.
In addition, he had a unique scent that drew her in every time. He smelled like the wild elements of the approaching monsoon storm combined with the musk of his wolf. The combination was electric. Whenever she caught his scent, the pleasure centers of her brain lit up like small fireworks going off inside her head.
To say she was drawn to Warren was to say fire was hot. But it wasn’t just his superlative gorgeousness. He was considered by his peers as one of the most powerful in Savage Territory. She’d often thought if he’d been a more self-interested man, he could simply take over all the packs and be done with it.
But she knew him. He had a profound commitment to the wolves of Savage as well as to the rule of law. He worked to protect all the packs that had formed over the thirty years the alter world of Five Bridges had been in existence. Of all his qualities, she loved his integrity the best. When he could have owned it all, he chose what was right for each pack.
Another flash of lightning lit up the sky. A rumble of thunder followed, though not too close. Dawn was still an hour or so away, but the sky was getting ready to open up.
A shiver went down her spine and she glanced behind her. She could feel it now, a tangible creep across her nerves. Something was going down tonight. She didn’t know when, how or what was going to happen, but the air crackled with intent and it wasn’t good.