Amber Flame (The Flame Series Book 4)

by Caris Roane

  She stepped onto his right boot, unable to believe she was actually going to fly with Fergus all the way to Savage.

  His sawdust voice hit her ear and sent chills over her shoulders. “Now, slide your arm around my neck.”

  She felt dizzy as she lifted her arm and did what he told her to do. When he pulled her tight against his body and his wolf heat cascaded over her, she’d never felt more secure. “So, you’re going to take me high into the air?”

  “I won’t go too far up, just enough to escape detection by the average eye.”

  She was close enough to smell his wolf scent, which had the effect of making certain parts of her shiver and ache all over again. Deep within her abdomen, she felt that same strange tug which didn’t make sense to her. It felt sexual, yet not. It felt connected, oddly, to her heart, and she had no idea what it meant.

  But it felt more wolf than fae, part of the sharing of inexplicable alter characteristics with Fergus that she doubted she’d ever comprehend.

  As he rose into the air, she tightened her hold on his neck.

  Fergus switched to telepathy. Don’t choke me now. But she could see that his lips curved.

  Despite how nervous she felt at flying for the first time, she eased back on her grip. He held her firmly around the waist so she knew she was safe.

  She forced herself to relax and take in the view. Over a month ago, when he’d carried her to safety, she’d been unconscious. Now, she could have a good look at the western section of Five Bridges.

  So much of our land, she said, staying mind-to-mind, looks like we’ve been battling with tanks, mortars and grenades. There’s one stretch of well-kept suburbia, then next to it a hundred feet of torn up cement and asphalt with weeds growing through.

  I think you’ve described it exactly.

  He shifted direction slightly, easing more west than south. They’d soon reach Blackwater Bridge, one of the five main, tri-part bridges in their province, connecting the human part of Phoenix with both Revel Territory and Savage. Even at a distance of two miles, she could see the well-lit bridge and the searchlights indicating the border between the U.S. and Five Bridges.

  I love the view from here.

  Levitating is great, Fergus said. And I’m wondering if that’s something you’ll be able to do soon. Juliet can. She gained the ability when she’d been working with Brannick to get you out of Roche’s operation.

  Mary wondered the same thing. She and I had a discussion about it. Nothing had shocked Juliet more than finding out she could take to the air.

  Two juxtaposed emotions ran through Mary at the same time. The first was a desire to fly just like Fergus. But the other, which seemed more profound, was knowing what she’d lose by not being wrapped up in his arms.

  It was probably in this moment, more than at any other time in the past twenty-four hours, that she realized she was in trouble with Fergus. She felt a deep affection for the wolf and an accompanying desire to stick close to him despite the fact that he was an alter wolf living in a horribly violent territory.

  She didn’t respond to Fergus’s observation about the potential for flight. Instead, she gestured with her free hand to the southwest. I can see the tree-line of the Savage pine forest. The Gordion Compound is located the opposite direction, though, isn’t it?

  Yes, near the eastern edge. Like your home, some of my pack residences border the Graveyard. Though we’re not quite south enough to be close to Elegance Territory. Another pack rides the spellcaster border.

  She sensed the sudden tension in him. She knew why. Wolves really didn’t get along with witches or warlocks. The enmity ran deep.

  Early on in Five Bridges’s history, there’d been a series of wars between the two species that ended with mass casualties on both sides. These frequent, bloody conflicts had caused the U.S. Government to separate all five territories from each other with ditches and barbed wire. Some estimated the amount of wire used could stretch across the United States and back. She thought it was an exaggeration, though maybe not, because the province looked in many places like something from World War II newsreel footage.

  She knew they were heading to the portion of Savage allotted to the Caldion Pack, led by Warren. The only thing she knew about his compound, however, was that he’d built in the densest part of the pine forest. Half his pack lived in cottages around the compound but with underground living spaces called dens. The other half resided in the compound itself in dozens of apartments, also belowground level. The Gordion Pack’s compound had a similar set-up.

  In more recent years, Savage Territory had become a quieter part of Five Bridges. But she’d learned enough of the history of the province to know that early howling issues had created enormous tensions between Savage and the rest of the territories.

  Wolves howled.

  They yipped, growled, barked and made all kinds of resonant grunting sounds. The noise just dozens of wolves could make together was overwhelming. But thousands residing in Savage had create a cacophony that had incited more than one inter-species war.

  Mary had viewed several videos online featuring a multitude of howling wolves. She wasn’t surprised that the noise level had driven other alter species into a battling frenzy.

  Now Savage was quiet. Time and a lot of rules had established when, how and where wolves could let loose, mostly, underground.

  She experienced a sudden sinking of her spirit. She recalled what it had been like earlier to be making love with Fergus and ready to open up her throat and howl like a wolf. She’d restrained the sound, knowing it was necessary. But it had been like having a pair of reins in her hands and pulling with all her might.

  The part of her that was sharing Fergus’s wolfness knew a powerful impulse to really let go, yet an equally strong instinct to keep silent. The result, however, was an ache in her soul.

  Because of her faeness, she sensed how hard it was for wolves to remain in one place and to repress their needs to howl. The pervasive discontent in Savage was the primary reason why wolves like Fergus and Warren worked hard lobbying for National Forest terrain in the White Mountains of Northern Arizona where wolves could be wolves.

  As they drew closer to Warren’s compound, she began to see scattered, small cottages through the tops of the pine trees. They appeared to be laid out in an arc so that each residence faced the compound dead on. Fergus didn’t approach from the north, however. Instead, he flew slowly along the eastern border of the lodge-like stone structure.

  The trees opened up to a fairly wide street on the southern property boundary. Though most of the forest roads were made of dirt, this main thoroughfare was paved.

  Fergus’s rough wolf voice touched her mind. In case you weren’t sure, this is the Caldion Compound. I’m contacting Warren now telepathically.

  Good to know, she responded, aware suddenly that her fear of levitating had disappeared completely.

  Her gaze was fixed on the compound below, taking it all in as Fergus began to descend. She saw that the visible portion of the complex looked to be at least five-thousand square feet and was made of stone with a dark gray slate roof. Most of the landscaping was traditional desert rock, hardy plants, and stone walkways.

  At the north end of the complex was a large cement area free of trees. A bonfire burned there despite that it was June and hot during the day. Wolves loved fire.

  Warren’s expecting us at the front entrance, Fergus said. He’ll meet us there. He said he has a dozen wolves standing guard with AR-15s.

  Did you see all the men around the bonfire? Also armed? Fergus, there had to be at least a hundred.

  I know. We’ve got a bad situation brewing because of Sydon and his determination to work with the cartels. If we’re not careful, tonight’s events could launch another massive war in Savage.

  Why a war?

  He snorted. You were right to be worried about the violence in Savage. When our blood gets up, sometimes we forget who the enemy is. Wolves get hurt inadvertentl
y, which causes a pack to rise up and call for revenge. It can be a real domino effect in our territory.

  Mary wasn’t surprised. Her sister had died because a few wolves near Alicia had lost it and ended up killing her and several more bystanders. As Fergus had put it, they’d gotten their blood up.

  He flew in a wide arc, passing well beyond the paved road to the tree-line opposite Warren’s home. He swung back toward the road and crossed it, descending slowly, which served to make his presence known to Warren’s guards.

  But Mary’s fae senses told her he didn’t need to be concerned. Though the wolves held automatic rifles in their hands, not one of them raised a weapon in their direction.

  Warren was there as well and had his hands on his hips. He was a big man, and frightening to look at especially with his lips compressed into a grim line.

  Her gaze was drawn to the scarring on the left side of his face and head. While Fergus drew them close, she allowed herself a few seconds to accustom herself to his disfigurement. That way, she’d be more likely to see the man rather than his scars.

  He wore a black tank and leathers, the typical uniform of any of the Five Bridges border patrols. His militarized force wore similar clothes but their tanks bore the Caldion Pack emerald green logo patch. She knew that each pack’s force could be identified by their logos and specific colors. Having searched the web several times about Savage, she knew that the Gordion pack wore amber logo patches. If braids were worn, they were also tied up with narrow leather cords in the matching pack color.

  Fergus dropped them down to the long, stone front walkway, five feet from Warren. Mary stepped off Fergus’s boot and unwrapped her arm from around his neck.

  Warren lowered his chin and inclined his head in Mary’s direction, but didn’t at first make eye-contact with her. Instead, he kept his head bowed for several seconds.

  Finally, he stood upright and met her gaze. “Welcome to the Caldion Pack, Mary Somers. We are forever indebted to you for saving our brother’s life.”

  Mary knew the packs often spoke formally, especially during an initial greeting. But his words surprised her and at first she didn’t know how to respond. Finally, she said, “And I’ll always feel thankful for the part you and your men played in bringing Fergus to my surgery.”

  Warren appeared to sniff the air, his nostrils fluttering. Afterward, he nodded solemnly. Her fae instincts told her he’d just caught Fergus’s marking scent on her. She felt his approval.

  He then shifted his attention to Fergus. “We’re more grateful than we can say that you’ve survived.”

  Mary glanced at Fergus, wondering what his formal response would be. Instead, he smiled and moved swiftly in Warren’s direction. He took Warren’s outstretched hand in a typical handshake, but slung his free arm around his shoulders and offered up a bro-hug, their clasped hands between. “Thanks for getting my ass out of the Graveyard.” Yup, much less formal than Warren.

  Mary couldn’t see Fergus’s face, but the sudden sheen in Warren’s eyes told her more about the relationship between the two alphas than anything else could have.

  Warren finally pushed away. “All right, you ugly bastard, come into the compound. We’ve got a lot to discuss and not much time.”

  Fergus pivoted toward Mary and held his hand out to her. She joined him swiftly, but at the same time glanced at the warriors nearest her. They each remained on guard, and she could feel their high level of tension. Sydon’s actions had definitely stirred up the wolf community.

  As she moved through the massive doorway, she saw that the same pavers on the front walk continued into a large, two story foyer. No ornaments were there, no paintings or even a table. In that moment, she felt the absence of a woman not just in Warren’s house, but in his life and in his pack as well. It seemed to her that the entire structure was waiting for the right woman to arrive.

  The house proper was two-story with a broad curved staircase off to the left. She supposed Warren’s private rooms were up there.

  A bank of windows covered the back of the house so that she could see the bonfire and the pines in the distance.

  Warren led them down a hall to the right of the foyer and into a smaller room with a leather-topped table in the center. “I’ve been in continuous contact with the Gordion Pack wolves but we’ve got to move fast. Sydon’s just issued orders to kill the men he’s holding in the dungeon prison.”

  Mary felt a wave of wolf-energy blast from Fergus’s body. “What the fuck is he doing? A mass execution could ignite another all-pack war in Savage.”

  She knew this was Fergus’s biggest concern, that all the packs would suddenly start attacking each other, igniting a full-scale conflict throughout Savage.

  ~ ~ ~

  Fergus paced Warren’s strategy room. After he’d walked off some of his rage, he returned to the table. Warren was spreading out a broad map that he soon realized was a detailed and very professional rendering of Fergus’s compound. “Holy fuck, I had no idea you had something like this.”

  “I confess that I have one of each of the fifteen main compounds, including my own. I wanted to get one of Sydon’s house, but no spy I’ve ever sent out to investigate has come back with useful information. Sydon conducts his rogue pack business entirely in secret.”

  Fergus moved to the side and as Warren weighted each corner, Fergus examined the map. The scale was perfect, every room detailed.

  Warren slapped his hand over the belowground, third level area on the east that served as a series of several large dungeon jail cells. “He’s keeping your men here.”

  Fergus knew every inch of his pack’s compound, including a few secret passages not on the map.

  “There’s only one entrance to the row of dungeon cells,” Fergus said. “It’s along this corridor that leads back to the central stairwell.” He used two fingers to trace the path as he spoke. “Even if we could get a team down there, we’d be trapped between Sydon’s guards working this area and the ones sure to follow us in.”

  Next, he ran his fingers along the edge of the ground floor, on the same side of the compound as the cells. “However, what you probably don’t know is that there’s a door here that leads down two flights of stairs and into a hidden hall that runs the entire length of this wall behind the dungeon area.”

  Warren smiled. “A secret passage. I like it.”

  “But even with that advantage, this would be a difficult rescue.”

  Mary, who stood at the foot of the table, said, “I could use my dreamglide and scout everything for you. And I can keep scouting the whole time. I’d be able to see where the guards come from, let you know when they arrive, and how many in each team. Would that help?”

  Warren, who was at least ten feet away from her, took another step backward. Fergus had seen him do this before and he understood. Alpha-mate hunting during the peak of a cycle was like a series of knives in a man’s hide. Despite the fact that Mary now carried Fergus’s mark, she would still be highly attractive to an alpha.

  He contacted Mary telepathically. I need to do something right now for Warren’s sake. Will you allow it?

  Of course, but what?

  He headed in her direction, but he was smiling. A kiss should work.

  Wasn’t the mark enough?

  He’s near the peak of his annual cycle. You know about that, right?

  I do. So, I guess you’d better kiss me because I can sense his distress as well. Her beautiful full lips curved as he descended on her.

  He took her in his arms, surrounded her fully, then pulled her close. He rubbed her face with each cheek in turn, releasing more of his wolf scent. Finally, he kissed her.

  Fergus, my God. That scent. You could probably throw me on my back right now and do whatever you wanted, and I wouldn’t raise a whisper in protest.

  Those words did not help his groin at all. But he was feeling it, too, an overwhelming need to get inside her again. He’d kissed her to strengthen his bonding scent for Warren�
�s sake. But as he drew back, he had to work at re-learning how to breathe while at the same time doing math-sums in his head.

  Mary didn’t look in much better shape. Her cheeks were flushed where he’d marked her, and she held both hands away from her body as though trying to regain her balance. Her lips were swollen, her eyes glittering.

  That’s when he caught her scent as well, part fae and now, yup, part wolf. It still shocked him that he and Mary were caught in a strange sharing of alter abilities. What the hell was happening between them?

  Sure, he’d seen this first-hand between Brannick and Juliet, but now the same phenomenon was making him question everything he knew about living in Five Bridges.

  “You’re sharing powers, aren’t you?” Warren’s voice had a good effect since it drew Fergus’s attention away from Mary.

  He turned slightly to meet Warren’s gaze. “We are. It’s strange as hell.”

  He heard Mary take a shuddering breath as he left her. He then moved back to the side of the map table.

  Warren murmured, “Thank you for that. I suggest you do it a few more times throughout the night. It helps.”

  Fergus caught Warren’s almost tortured gaze, then slid into telepathy. But it’s Mary, isn’t it? I’m not just imagining that she’s alpha-mate material?

  She is. I felt it the moment I arrived in the Graveyard last night. It shocked the hell out of me.

  Against his will, Fergus stiffened. “Did you hit on her?” He asked aloud. The question was completely out of line, but again his mate-hunting cycle had also reached its peak and he had to know.

  Warren pressed his fist against his own chest. “On my honor, no, Fergus. I knew even then she was yours. Besides, we were a little busy getting your ass into a sling for transport, if you recall.”

  Fergus squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment. He breathed through a powerful need to pound the shit out of Warren for being so close to Mary during the shared ordeal. “I know this is wrong, but I wish you hadn’t been anywhere near her.”

  At that, Warren appeared to relax. “Well, I’ll say this. I’m glad I was there, because if I hadn’t been, you’d be worm-fodder.”