by Nalini Singh
Selenka crouched down to gather her warm, wriggling form in her arms and nuzzled a kiss into her fur. Nipping happily at her, Zhanna rubbed her head against Selenka’s neck, making small sounds of excited joy that triggered every protective instinct in Selenka’s body.
Vadem was snarling when she tracked him down all the way on the other side of the den, but one look at Zhanna had the dominant slapping himself back into line. Handing the pup over to Artem, Selenka took Vadem into the trees, into privacy. Aggression pumped off him, his claws slicing out.
Sometimes, a hurting packmate required a hug. Other times . . .
Selenka swiped out at him with her claws. He reacted instinctively with all the pent-up rage inside him, coming at her no holds barred. Selenka met him blow for blow, kick for kick, though she did have to pull back on her speed at times—Vadem was a strong wolf, but he was a senior soldier and she was alpha. He could never physically beat her. Which was why he could be free to unload on her in such a violent way.
Physical aggression was part of why her grandfather had made the decision to step down. It wasn’t because of any aggression directed at him, however, for older wolves could be alpha. In that situation, it was younger lieutenants who handled matters such as this. But not only had many of Yevgeni Durev’s lieutenants been his compatriots, he’d known Selenka was ready.
“Either I step down,” he’d said to her, “or I watch you leave to start your own pack. And I am no longer able to hold my packmates as they need—not when it comes down to teeth and claws.”
“Deda, no,” she’d argued, “I’ll always be ready to serve at your side as your lieutenant, to take those tasks.” As with the rest of the pack, she had the deepest respect for her grandfather.
He’d waved his hand. “I’m not so foolish as to use your loyalty to prop up my ego, my strong Selenushka. Being a good alpha includes knowing when to step aside for the future.” An embrace that enfolded her in warmth and affection. “It’s time.”
Now she winced as Vadem’s fist caught her cheek in a glancing blow, but swung out with a kick that had him folding over. But the angry, grieving male wasn’t done yet. He came at her in a silent rage. Instead of dancing away from him, she stayed put for a furious exchange of blows, allowing Vadem to release his pain.
It was long minutes later before he finally collapsed onto his knees, his face bleeding from a cut above the cheek and his left eye already puffing up into a bruise. Dropping down at his side, Selenka just waited. He gave out a roar of pain before turning to burrow into her arms.
Her knuckles bruised and cut, but the rest of her in good condition, Selenka held Vadem as he cried until he had no tears left in him. Then she nuzzled him and whispered, “We will find them. There will be no mercy.” It was a deadly promise from an alpha.
Chapter 32
Even alphas make mistakes, Selenushka. Always remember that.
Before you were born, I trusted a packmate to do work on behalf of the pack, and he betrayed BlackEdge by stealing. Such a mistake would’ve crushed me had I thought myself perfect and held myself up to some great standard of alphahood. Instead, I accepted that I can’t see into the heart of every wolf, and I did all I could to fix the resulting damage.
You will make mistakes, too. You will never be the perfect alpha. Such a thing is a figment of the imagination. What you can be is the alpha who is ready to stand for and with her pack, the wolf willing to take the hardest blows, and the wolf who will learn and continue on, gaining in wisdom and strength and courage.
—Yevgeni Durev to Selenka Durev on his last and her first day as alpha of BlackEdge
IT WAS DARK by the time she emerged from the trees, with Vadem by her side. He winced, rubbing at his jaw. “Ma is going to kill me.”
Selenka patted him on the shoulder. “You just survived a bout with your alpha. You should only be a little bloodied and broken after she gets through with you.”
A sudden smile, a hint of the man behind the grief. “I know you went easy on me.” But he looked proud anyway. “I got you a couple of times.” A pause. “Govno, your mate is going to kill me, too.”
Need clawing at her veins, Selenka nonetheless forced a grin. “Your mother will protect you,” she said as they parted near the entrance to the den—where Loyal was sitting, waiting for Ethan.
Selenka petted him. “We’ll go see him together,” she promised the dog before she ducked into the infirmary so Ivina could check her back.
“Healing well in progress,” the other woman said, before putting a clean dressing on it. “You shouldn’t need this after today.” She took a critical look at Selenka’s face. “You might end up with a slight bruise on one cheek, but you don’t need any work there.”
Leaving the infirmary with Loyal by her side before the healer could see her knuckles and fuss, Selenka ran into Alia, who directed her to a group of trainee soldiers. “Pups are hurting,” her lieutenant said.
As she sat with the young of her pack, aware her wolf would reassure them with no specific words being spoken, Selenka felt an enormous pride stretch her alpha’s heart. Angry and sad they might be right now, but beneath that was a core of courage and love.
“They’re clueless,” one girl muttered when the conversation drifted to Zivko and the other wolves in the group of intruders. “Zero discipline over their wolves. One actually tried to hit on me and put his hand on my arm.” She curled her lip. “I dumped him on his ass and shredded his face for good measure.” A quick glance at Selenka. “Sorry—I know we’re not supposed to physically hurt them.”
Selenka raised an eyebrow. “You’re not sorry.” She chuckled when the girl ducked her head. “And he assumed skin privileges with a wolf female. If he’s so clueless he doesn’t know that’s an invitation for being shredded, he deserved it.” No one put hands on anyone else in this pack without permission. Often, that permission was implied by nonverbal wolfish communication, but it always existed.
“Still,” she said, “I’ll have Margo chat with them, make those rules clear.” Youthful arrogance could be forgiven if the intruders were willing to learn—and she’d do this for Emanuel, who’d wanted so much to help those lost changelings.
“They can’t have had very good alphas if they don’t know basic stuff.” Ilarion frowned. “I kind of almost feel sorry for them. I mean, we have you.” A blush. “Total advantage.”
Selenka patted his cheek with an affectionate smile—the boy had a sweet crush on her, but he’d grow out of it, as she’d grown out of her crush on one of her grandfather’s lieutenants. “Let’s see if we can whip them into shape.”
“Even though they tried to hurt us?”
“Depends on the choices they make now,” Selenka said bluntly. “We see what they do with the chance they’ve been given.”
The conversation continued, drifting to other matters.
“Your mate is handsome.” A cheeky comment from dimpled Katina.
Grins spread around the circle. “Even better,” Ilarion murmured, “he’s lethal.”
Chest tight, Selenka kept up an unbroken front till the conversation ended. She then went to see Emanuel’s beloved Dia. The gentle submissive was at her parents’ quarters, curled up in bed with her best friends on either side of her, all of them in wolf form.
Whimpering when her alpha entered the room, she waited only until Selenka was on the bed to put her head in Selenka’s lap. Selenka petted her as Dia’s best friends shifted to have contact with their alpha, too. The one mercy in all of this was that Dia’s relationship with Emanuel had just begun.
The heartbroken wolf would recover, though it would take a lot of time.
Selenka would recover, too, but she’d forever carry a hole in her heart. That was what it meant to be alpha. To carry your whole pack in your heart . . . even the lost ones.
It was late by the time she left Dia, but she
touched base with Margo before she headed out. Her security specialist had no news for her—the Arrows were sharing all data on the person who’d admitted to murdering Emanuel, but so far, that individual remained a ghost.
“Something Cray said about his conversation with the assassin has me looking at the Disciples,” Margo told her, blue eyes hard. “But Ivo’s dug deep into their finances and history, and we don’t have a smoking gun. I don’t want to blind myself by focusing only on them, but they’re in my crosshairs.”
Selenka didn’t rage at the lack of progress; her wolves were relentless hunters and so were the Arrows. The murderer would be found—and punishment would be harsh. “I need to talk to Blaise regardless,” she said. “I’ll see if I can shake anything loose there.”
“Be careful—he has that kind, polite front, but no one forms what might as well be a cult without having delusions of godhood.”
“If Blaise had anything to do with harming Emanuel,” Selenka said on a growl, “he’ll beg for death before it comes.” Cold determination in her heart, she slipped away from the den at last.
Loyal padded alongside her.
The stars were brilliant overhead as she hit the night air, and she knew the closest sentries would clock her exit, but no one would begrudge her a run. And run she did, through the cool dark and in the shadow of trees that had stood for generations before her and would stand for generations to come.
Despite her need to get to Ethan, she took care to keep her pace at one his rescued pet could maintain.
Oleg was sitting just outside the tent when she arrived. He rose with a theatrical groan, as Loyal yipped joyfully and ran over to nose his way into the tent, his tail wagging rapidly. “Oh, these bones aren’t meant for ground sitting.”
As she’d seen Oleg racing over rocks the other day, Selenka didn’t take that seriously. She embraced him, was embraced in turn. “I’ll stay for the next five hours, head back in at dawn.”
The healer left without further words, well aware of the wrenching pull of the mating bond. Crawling inside the tent the instant she was alone with Ethan but for Loyal, who sat attentively at his master’s feet, Selenka rolled up all the sides. The night was clear and not too cold, and this way she could be with Ethan and still react quickly to a threat.
Stripping off her socks and boots, she also tugged off her second-favorite jacket. She was a wolf, could sleep in the forest naked with no ill effects, but she’d save the naked sleeping for when her mate was awake. It was a jolt of pleasure to see Ethan’s eyes drink her up, feel his hands stroke over her body in that way of his, as if she were a great work of art that he’d been given permission to touch and he couldn’t believe it.
“Sleep,” she told Loyal, petting his head to reassure him.
Then, lying down beside her mate as she’d hungered to do for so many hours, she put her hand on his chest, closed her eyes, and listened to him breathe. She fell asleep to that sound and to the beat of his heart under her palm, at peace even in her worry and pain because she was with him.
* * *
—
SELENKA took Gregori with her to the meeting with Blaise the next morning. It was a deliberate choice on her part to invite him—the church leader had reacted aggressively to Gregori from the first. Oh, Blaise had hidden it behind a slick smile and pretty manners, but Selenka wasn’t alpha because she was stupid.
“How are our prisoners doing?” she asked as she drove them out of den territory.
“Toeing the line.” Her senior lieutenant settled into the passenger seat. “Probably because they’re under constant watch from growling wolves.”
“Good.” Things would get worse for those perpetrators before they would get better. “We pick up any other details of their plans?”
“Just confirmation we don’t have the mastermind—the humans and Psy in the group have no real appreciation of the strength of our hearing and keep whispering to each other, asking who came up with the idea of fire—the stupidity of that’s gotten through and they’re pissed, but no one has any idea.” He grunted as she took a corner too fast. “Tell me again how you got your license to drive?”
“Scaredy-cat.”
“Safety conscious.” He tugged together the sides of his nonexistent jacket. “As for Zivko, the boy’s realized he was manipulated—I can see a colder, harder anger growing inside him.”
That could be either good or bad for the young wolf’s development; it all depended on what he did with the anger. “You keeping an eye on him?”
“Yes, and when I’m not there, one of the other senior dominants. It’d be a shame to lose him, lose any of them, changeling or not.” He clenched his hands on his knees. “Emanuel was so invested in them.”
Heat burned Selenka’s eyes.
Swallowing back the emotion, she said, “We’ll try our damnedest to open their eyes.” She was too pragmatic not to accept that some wouldn’t want to see any truth but the one they’d already bought into—Blaise had a certain charisma and an ability to speak to a person as if they truly mattered. What Selenka considered a well-practiced act inspired incredible devotion in his flock.
A number of that flock were out front when Selenka arrived at the church gate. More than one shot her a hostile look, but every single individual dropped their gaze the instant she made eye contact—and the gate slid open without problem.
“Did you notice that?” she murmured to Gregori after they’d driven through.
“The upgraded security?” Her lieutenant tapped his finger on the open ledge of his window, his tattoos brilliant in the sunshine and eyes intent on their surroundings. “Pricey. But Blaise does have a nice fat bank account.”
Ivo had managed to track the money trail to inheritances and other wealth brought in by the congregation—including a massive chunk left to the church by a parishioner who’d died without warning two years earlier, long before Haven’s Disciples came to Moscow. It had been ruled a natural death, but Selenka had wondered at the efficacy of the investigation. Because the parishioner’s death had left Blaise in total control of her millions.
“There he is,” she said, spotting Blaise coming out of not the church, but a small home to the left. A slender—and young—woman stood in the doorway, her long blonde hair like silk and her dewy, pink-lipped face awash in awe.
Gregori whistled. “She’s legal—I recognize her from Margo’s spy files, but kid’s only nineteen.”
While Blaise was forty-three. A well-maintained and handsome forty-three . . . and a man who didn’t believe in moral lines. Because Selenka only had to take a single breath after exiting the vehicle to confirm the two had just engaged in sexual intercourse. Not skin privileges—she wouldn’t give that name to this act. And it had nothing to do with the age difference, or even the simple fact that Blaise was the leader of this group.
Alphas often found comfort or love with a packmate.
No, Selenka’s disgust stemmed from the fact that the woman obviously worshipped Blaise as her spiritual leader. The power imbalance was staggering, the ethical breach repulsive. It would be akin to Selenka choosing fresh-faced and in-awe-of-her Ilarion for a lover. Her wolf curled its lip in a snarl.
“Selenka.” Blaise’s strikingly handsome features were set in calm lines, his green eyes placid—the gate watchers had obviously alerted him to their presence. “Shall we go speak in the church?”
“I’d rather stay outside.” She folded her arms, set her feet apart. “Certain scents are difficult to ignore inside an enclosed space.”
Blaise’s skin tightened over his cheekbones—and there it was, the truth he hid behind his serene mask. He didn’t like Selenka calling him to account, and it wasn’t the first time she’d clocked that reaction. She hadn’t yet confirmed if it was because she was a woman, or because she was so clearly the more dominant wolf.
“Of course.” He waved a
hand. “Shall we walk?”
Selenka fell in beside him for the simple reason that she wanted the young woman out of earshot—Blaise was not the type to be kind to anyone who heard him getting dressed down by another party, much less a wolf alpha.
Gregori trailed them a short distance away.
“Your people have breached our hospitality,” she said, keeping her tone civil even though she wanted to tear off his fucking head. This wasn’t about anger—it was about pinpointing the person who’d sought to hurt her pack, possibly the same individual who’d murdered Emanuel. “BlackEdge has every right to kick you out.”
Blaise’s face grew pinched, his muscles bunching, but he managed to keep his voice even as he said, “I beg leniency. This is our home now, and we shouldn’t all be punished for the mistakes of a few misguided youth.”
“Brother Blaise.” A limber woman who moved with the stride of the martially trained, her black hair tied back in a long tail, raised a hand in hello from the other side of the drive. “Are you well?” She had a hand on her thigh, the weapon not visible, but Selenka could smell the oil used to clean projectile guns. As Nomani was the sixth—and final—wolf in the congregation, she had to know Selenka would scent it.
The threat was conscious.
“Yes, Noma.” Blaise’s smile was beatific. “Alpha Durev and I are discussing the Disciples’ future in Moscow.”
Emotion, hot and dark, flashed in the woman’s eyes, but she inclined her head. “I will leave you to your conversation.”
That conversation didn’t take long—after what she’d seen and sensed today, Selenka knew without a doubt that Blaise was up to his neck in whatever was going on. But she needed more information before she rained hell down on his head. To make sure he wouldn’t suspect anything, she kept her tone pitiless as she ended the conversation. “Another ‘mistake’ of any kind by any of your people and I come for you.”
