“Emma can’t be replaced,” Zio snapped.
“I know. Bad word choice, but it’s been a long few days.”
Guilt overrode even the lingering disquiet in Zio’s heart. “Shit.” He leaned forward and ran a hand down his face. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been here.”
“No, you shouldn’t have. I gave you some time because you needed it. What’s happened in your absence is beyond your control.”
“But—”
“No buts. Pack is about the individual as much as the whole, or who would we truly be?”
Zio was too frazzled to answer that question. His mind raced and his heart thumped.
Varian stood over him and placed his palm on Zio’s neck, silent and still until Zio met his gaze. “Pack.”
Zio nodded. “Pack.”
Varian nodded and stepped away to sit in the chair on the other side of the desk he rarely used. “There’s something else I need to ask you about.”
Beside Zio, Gale shifted in his seat, crossing and uncrossing his legs, fingers tightening on the armrests.
Zio braced himself. “What?”
“I don’t know how long Devan’s going to be with us, but he’s going to need somewhere to stay. Your quarters are closest to the clinic, so I was hoping he could move into Emma’s old room.”
“At the bungalow?”
“Yes.”
Zio closed his eyes, picturing Emma’s room exactly how she’d left it a year ago when they’d been called back to defend—and ultimately lose—London. Her scent was everywhere, but it’d be fading by now, and the scent of another would soon erase her entirely. No.
But even as he thought it, her voice haunted his protests. “Zio, I have pages and pages of notes on every wolf that’s ever walked this land. If a healer from another world is to be of any use to this pack, they’ll need everything you make fun of me for hoarding under my bed.”
Zio opened his eyes. “It’s fine.”
“Are you sure?” Varian’s gaze pinned Zio in place. “We could always—”
“It’s fine.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” Zio sucked in a breath and broke Varian’s stare, turning his gaze to the window. It was shut, but as the wind rustled the bushes, Zio imagined it carried Emma’s scent and then one that now had a name—Devan—chasing it away.
It was a long moment before he remembered that Devan’s scent was as seared on his soul as Emma’s, but for entirely different reasons.
His pulse quickened again.
Varian cleared his throat. “Zio, do you need to go? Maybe you should shift for a while—”
Zio stood with a screech of his chair on the wooden floor, out of the room before Varian could complete the sentence. He shot through the house and burst out of the front door. Sweet pain shimmered through him and he shifted, muscle and bone solidifying into his true form in the blink of an eye.
His paws hit wet grass. Scents and sounds intensified, and his vision sharpened.
The forest called to him, and he made for the break in the trees that surrounded Varian’s house, dropping his clothes as he ran. Shifting was everything—to run and leap. Weave and dodge. Grief and turmoil faded to a dull roar, overtaken by wind and rain. Animals scattered as they detected his presence. Precious moments, for when Zio was a wolf, he was free.
Devan paced the cramped back office where the wolf beta—Gale—had told him to wait. Impatience clawed at him. Claustrophobia too. He hadn’t been forbidden from leaving . . . yet, but he’d got the impression that it’d be better if he didn’t.
Better for who?
Like it mattered. Devan was in wolf country now and part of a pack. What he wanted as an individual was no longer important.
“That’s not entirely true.”
Devan whirled around. A broad-shouldered black man stood in the doorway, alpha strength tied into every bone and muscle. Varian. “They didn’t tell me you were a mind reader.”
Varian shrugged. “It’s not a consistent gift. Sometimes important things jump out at me; others can pass me by. There’s no rhyme or reason to it.”
“Interesting.”
“It has its moments. Welcome to England and to our home. How was your journey?”
It was on the tip of Devan’s tongue to repeat himself, but he caught it just in time. The journey had been interesting for many reasons, but he didn’t trust himself to discuss it without giving himself—and the young wolf he’d yet to scent on the military compound—away. Who the hell knew what Varian had seen pass through his mind already? “It was fine. I took a detour to meet with your elders.”
“Are they well? It has been some time since we last spoke with them. Their home is a guarded secret I trusted your alpha with for the good of my pack.”
“It’s safe with me.”
“I know. Dash is an old friend of mine. If he trusts you, so do I.”
“Is that why he chose me to come? I was under the impression it was because I have no mate.”
“A little of both, I’d imagine. Can I get you a drink? Something to eat?”
“I’m fine.”
“Tired, though, yes? You have not slept in a few days.”
Devan had come across mind readers before, but he’d never get used to how exposed he felt when someone voiced his thoughts before he could. “I don’t need much sleep.”
“But you do need some. We all do, unless we are vampires.”
Devan shuddered. “I thought there were no covens left in your country.”
“There aren’t, but that could change if we lose this war.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“Indeed.” Varian moved to a filing cabinet by the window and opened it. He retrieved a set of keys and offered them to Devan. “I have secured you accommodation within the compound. It’s close to the human clinic should you be called to assist there, and it was the quarters of our previous healer. You should find anything you need in her rooms, though we have removed her personal belongings.”
“What was her name?”
“Emma.” Varian’s eyes tightened. It was infinitesimal, but Devan saw it. “We loved her very much, and you may find some . . . resistance among our wolves at first, especially from those closest to her.”
“I’m prepared for hostility.”
“Well, hopefully it won’t come to that, but I’m not an alpha who orders my pack to feel the way I want them to. If you encounter any problems, we’ll address them individually.”
“I can see why Dash likes you.”
“He taught me well.”
“He did?”
“Long story, dear friend. Perhaps when we’re not so pressed for time, I will tell it to you.”
“I’d like that.”
“I thought you might. Dash told me you’re a thinker. We could do with some of that around here.”
“Your wolves are young?”
Varian sighed. “They are, and they can be . . . difficult to guide without methods I choose not to employ, but they have good hearts. In times of war, that matters.”
“And in peace, I’d imagine.”
“It’s been a long time since I knew peace, brother.”
“How long have you been their alpha?”
“Some of them a few years, others a few decades. We are comprised of decimated packs and fractured families, all of us survivors of some kind.”
Devan filed the information away. Varian’s warm welcome had relaxed him somewhat, but his mind was still haphazard, as though his thoughts hadn’t quite caught up. Or maybe they had. Maybe they were miles ahead, and it was he who wasn’t up to speed.
He fought the urge to sniff the air, to seek out the addictive scent that had kept him awake every moment since he’d first caught it in Manchester. Somewhere outside, a wolf called to the night sky.
Devan’s blood rushed. His skin tingled, and he found himself drawn towards the window. He’d never heard a wolf running free before—there were no wolves in Shadow Cl
an, none had chosen the form.
The wolf howled again, drawn-out and plaintive. It was haunting and beautiful, and Devan wanted to hear it again and again. To commit it to memory so he’d hear it even after he left this strange place.
Varian joined him at the window. He turned his gaze to the horizon. “Zio. You’ll meet him very soon, I’d imagine. He shares your bungalow, though he doesn’t settle much.”
“Restless?”
“Always. I’m hoping we’ll tame him one day, though. He’s special to me. To all of us.”
“Was he close to Emma?”
“Extremely.”
“They were mated?”
“No, but I did wonder many times if there was a potential bond there. If it would be triggered by the dangers they both faced. It would’ve complicated pack life considerably, but I don’t doubt it could’ve been the making of Zio.”
Curiosity burnt brightly against the myriad of other emotions rampaging through Devan, but he pushed it aside. He’d meet his wild roommate soon enough. For now, all he wanted was a shower, some food, and despite what he’d told Varian, a bed to faceplant on.
Perhaps reading his mind, or perhaps not, Varian pressed the keys into Devan’s hand. “Gale is outside. He’ll take you to the bungalow, but I’d like to meet again tomorrow, if that’s okay.”
“That’s up to you, isn’t it?” Devan said absently. “I’m here with you as my alpha.”
“But you are still free. I will call on you only when necessary. Outside of those moments, your time is your own.”
“Can I leave the township?”
“Of course. You can go wherever you choose, but I’d advise talking with your wolf brothers first. We like to know when one of us is leaving so we can be found quickly if something happens.”
Wolf brothers. It wasn’t a phrase Devan had ever imagined would be relevant in his life, supernatural or otherwise, but it wasn’t as offensive as he might’ve assumed.
Dressed in Varian’s rich voice, he liked it.
Chapter Six
Zio lurked behind Emma’s favourite apple tree. It had a broad trunk and was the only tree in her small orchard that reliably bore fruit. Not that there was much fruit around at this time of year. Winter was cold, grey, and wet, and it suited Zio’s mood. Shifting had calmed his frantic thoughts, but the fact remained that even if the Shadow Clan healer wasn’t the unknown shifter he’d dropped his pants for in the club, he still had to share his home—and Emma’s space—with a stranger.
A stranger he was waiting for behind a tree despite the fact that any approaching supernatural being would catch his scent on the wind.
Loser.
But in this strange new world, Zio needed a few more moments out of sight.
The wind picked up. He sniffed the air, and his blood began to burn as the fragrance haunting his dreams reached him, faint but unmistakable. Sweet and perfect. Zio braced himself for impact, to run if the draw he’d felt in the club overwhelmed him again, but as footsteps trod the path leading to the bungalow, he didn’t flee. Couldn’t. I have to see him.
He saw Gale first, stone-faced and earnest as ever. He was senior beta in the pack, and fuck, if he didn’t take it seriously. You wouldn’t catch him losing his shit in a club.
Of course you wouldn’t. Gale was selfless and a good man. The best. Zio was . . . something else.
Gale’s companion stepped out of the shadows. His white-blond hair caught the light of the streetlamp, and even from a distance, Zio’s sharp wolf gaze picked up his ocean-blue eyes, so typical of Shadow Clan, or so he’d been told—that their eyes morphed with the change. He’d never seen one to test the rumour. Only heard tall tales of their famous alphas—the supreme healer and his vampire-turned-shifter mate.
Those eyes, though. Overcome, Zio fell to his knees. He hadn’t seen the healer’s face in the club. Hadn’t catalogued his lithe frame and glorious cheekbones. He was smaller than Zio had imagined him, but he was glorious in every way . . . except his damn-fucking genes. If he was a wolf—
But he wasn’t a wolf. He was Shadow Clan, and he was here to take Emma’s place. To sleep in her bed and erase her scent from Zio’s home once and for all.
Zio staggered to his feet, testing the gravitating pull in his gut. It was still there, had been ever since he’d first encountered the healer—Devan. His name is Devan—but muted by grief and unenhanced by booze, it simmered at a level Zio could handle. He took a deep breath, absorbing Devan’s scent as he drew nearer to Zio’s hiding place. A shiver ran through Zio, but he steeled himself against it, blocking out whatever sensation it had meant to leave behind.
A growl rumbled out of his chest. Fuck you, healer. You won’t get me like that again.
“I knew it was you.”
Zio blinked.
Devan was somehow in front of him, arms folded across his chest, Gale nowhere in sight.
“How did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Sneak up on me. You were twenty feet away a split second ago.”
“No, I wasn’t. You spaced out, and I took advantage of your distraction. Do you want to fight me, Zio?”
“What?”
Devan tilted his head sideways. “You were growling. Your brother says you’re like that with everyone, but I wondered if it was personal, considering we’ve met before.”
“That didn’t happen.”
Devan nodded. “Suits me.”
He turned on his heel and walked away, his booted feet leaving no imprint on the orchard ground.
Zio watched him go, astonishment warring with a crippling disappointment he couldn’t decipher. It felt like an anti-climax. A painful one, and it shouldn’t have done, because he’d already established that his reaction to Devan the first time around had nothing to do with Devan himself and everything to do with Zio.
Right?
With no answer forthcoming and lacking any better ideas, Zio left the safety of Emma’s tree and tracked Devan to the bungalow. The front door was open, as though Devan had expected Zio to follow him. Zio stepped inside, shut the door, and leaned against it. Devan’s scent ambushed him from every direction, and he closed his eyes, fighting the heat that rose through his resolve, searing the sides of it. Melting it. How the fuck did this happen? Even for shifters, this shit was unreal, and he couldn’t help wondering if he was stuck in a nightmare. If his subconscious was playing him with the cruellest trick.
Devan was in the living room, sitting on the couch, his back to Zio. He didn’t look up as Zio entered the room. “Are you okay?”
It was the dozenth time Zio had been asked that question since he’d returned from his city adventures but coming from the soul who’d upended his mental equilibrium so entirely was more than Zio could handle.
He turned on his heel and stalked to the kitchen. The fridge contained nothing but beer and the cans of sickly sweet pop Emma drank. He grabbed a beer and twisted off the bottle cap, then he gathered the cans and dumped them in the rubbish bin.
In the living room, Devan shifted on the couch, leather creaking beneath his light frame. Zio pressed his head against the fridge, then forced himself to re-join him. “Where are you from?”
Devan kept his gaze on the pile of papers that smelt of Emma.
He’s been in her room.
Zio didn’t know why it mattered so much. For the foreseeable future, it was Devan’s room. But it did matter. It mattered a lot.
“I live in Slovakia,” Devan said. “At the healer’s commune in Bratislava. Emma was there once. I never saw her, but I recognise her scent. And her handwriting from the research papers she contributed to while she was there.”
“It’s like a monastery there, Z. No computers or phones. Every resource they have is handwritten.”
“It was ten years ago.”
Devan hummed. “Before my time then.”
“You weren’t a healer ten years ago? I thought you were born into it?”
“I wasn’t
born a shifter, but I was a healer ten years ago, just not in the commune. I was still in Finland, which is perhaps what I should’ve said when you asked where I was from.”
Devan finally looked up. Up close, his eyes were even bluer than they’d appeared outside, and they bore an intensity Zio had never seen in a wolf. The blue of his irises were ringed with a fiery glow and made him terrifyingly beautiful, if his attractiveness hadn’t terrified Zio already. “When were you changed?”
“When I was eighteen. Dash intercepted me outside medical college. He offered me a new life and gave me a few years to think about it, but it didn’t take that long. I found him a few weeks later and asked him to change me.”
“The only humans I know who’ve ever asked to be changed have been mated to whoever changed them.”
“Well, that wasn’t the case for me or other Shadow Clan I’ve come across. Perhaps wolves are more sexually compelling.”
“Sex and mating aren’t always connected.”
“Indeed.” Devan held Zio’s gaze for a long moment, then cleared his throat. “Just as changing isn’t necessarily connected to sex or mating. It certainly wasn’t for me.”
“I was changed when I was a baby.”
“I know.”
“How?”
Devan held up a folder with Zio’s name scrawled on it. “Emma told me.”
Zio bolted from the room. The front door of the bungalow slammed, and Devan winced as the impact rattled through the old bungalow, shaking the windows. Wolves weren’t known for their subtlety, but until that moment, Zio had been impossible to read. Dark, gorgeous, and brimming with anger and grief, he was everything Devan had feared he would be.
Beautiful.
Troubled.
A mournful howl pierced the air. Zio’s howl. Devan pictured him as a wolf, roaming the forest that surrounded the compound and township, and itched to join him, even though Zio had shifted to escape him and had likely never run with a shifter of a different kind. He’s probably never seen one. But Emma had, and speaking her name had driven Zio away.
Fated Hearts Page 3
