Even when he’d worked with Fabiana, she hadn’t been able to see the scents. She only became more aware of them. He’d done it when she asked about how he viewed the world, the studier in her intrigued. But this … this was something else entirely.
They were working together instead of him directing the way. Now that Giuliana had sensed the blood in a way only she could, he was able to as well. It wasn’t a scent as much as it was a feeling in the pit of his stomach, a gnawing in his gut he had to fix.
The Greenwald sped past, the trees a murky backdrop to a night alive with power. They zipped through the trees, never stopping, heading straight toward the end.
They came to a small clearing, soft grass swaying in the delicate breeze. It should have been beautiful, this place where the moonlight touched the earth. It should have been a space to camp out for the night before they moved on.
Instead, it was slick with the eerie black of blood in the night.
Each blade of grass was splattered with it.
Heath.
Wolves.
My wolves!
Pasquale staggered to a stop beside Giuliana and surveyed the scene before him. What the hell was going on? He shouldn’t smell his pack in this scent of destruction. They never should have been here.
But all the blood was Heath’s.
All the signs pointed to a vicious wolf attack.
There were paw prints pressed into sticky congealing blood, perfectly preserved. Blood-caked fur was trapped under the paw prints.
Pasquale used his nose, but Giuliana bent next to the grass and put her hands out, palms down. “There’s enough blood that whoever was attacked should be dead.”
Not who … Heath. The both knew it. She was tied enough to his ability that she knew exactly whose blood was here.
“Giuliana—”
She shook her head, cutting him off. “He can’t be dead. You smelled him heading to Scorched Earth.”
“We’re in the direction of it, Giuliana.”
She balled her fists. “And what wolves did this? I’d recognize our pack immediately, and even the Moonstone to the south. My uncle dealt with them a lot when we built the Arena, as they are over the entertainment sector. These weren’t their wolves.”
No, they weren’t. And he didn’t want to tell her. Didn’t want his people to face any more bullshit. But when she turned teary eyes to him, he couldn’t lie to her. Couldn’t destroy what little bond they had.
Who was he kidding? This would ruin everything.
He lifted his head, squaring his shoulders. For a moment, he just looked at her. Beautiful, even now, with pain etched over her features and rage in her gaze. The gentle slope of her neck, the way she crouched, ready to spring, and her lush curves on display. This wasn’t how he wanted to remember her, but he memorized it anyway.
Before hate filled her.
Before the dream of what could have been turned into a nightmare.
Life was a bitch—one that had ruined them long before they laid eyes on each other.
And in the last couple of days, they’d already gone through a tremulous level of back and forth.
No, mating was never in their cards.
“Bianchi wolves.”
She froze. “There are no Bianchi wolves anymore.”
“Our pack once boasted just over a hundred packmates. With the failed coup, we lost a third of that number, and then half more when some did not choose to join the Lombardis.”
Giuliana stood slowly, stretching to her full height, her canines bursting in her mouth. This was the Enforcer of the Lombardi Pack, not the woman he’d given pleasure to, not the partner he’d hunted with.
“I want to make things very clear right now. Are you saying your former packmates who didn’t stay with us attacked one of ours? Are you saying the text message Lorenzo received may have been a plant?”
That connection was a good one to make, and one made with lightning speed. “Primo taught subterfuge with an iron fist. Ottavio just gave him the opportunity he needed to use it against Arturo.”
And there it was.
The reminder.
History.
Ottavio, cousin to Arturo, had been part of his pack and planned to kill him with Primo’s help. They’d failed, but the rippling effect of the move still rocked the foundations. An intricate span of players—Ottavio of the Moretti Pack; Primo and Luigi, Alpha and Capo of the Bianchi; and Benedict of the Mage Council—had destroyed so many lives. Their deaths didn’t make up for what they’d made others lose.
“Fucking dogs.”
Her words cut. They were his people, even if he could see what this meant. The difference between them was, he could step back and wonder why. Giuliana just saw betrayal, and fuck if he couldn’t understand.
“They are leaderless. We don’t know what Heath may have done.”
“Dominic will want blood. I want blood.”
Pasquale nodded. “I understand.”
What else was he supposed to say? What could he do? At this moment, with Alpha power or not, he was a lower-ranking wolf in the structure and his Enforcer had just spoken.
Giuliana hesitated. Reaching out to him, she let her hand fall back to her side. “He’s my Alpha, Pasquale.”
I should be.
A toss-away thought, but once realized, he couldn’t help the rage boiling inside him. He should be her Alpha. He should be the one she gave allegiance to.
He should be the only man whose needs she’d fight to meet.
But it wasn’t like that and thinking like a Neanderthal wouldn’t help the situation. The fact remained that some of his people had attacked one of hers. There would be no leaping across that fucking divide. Dominic had a right to want those responsible to pay. And Pasquale couldn’t shake the feeling the perpetrators had purposefully hidden the trail to throw him off.
That sense of betrayal ran deep.
They knew he’d be the one to follow, as there was no one better than him, and they’d done it anyway.
We’re animals, Pasquale.
Maybe his father had been right all along. He and Fabiana were chasing a fucking dream, trying to pick up the pieces of what remained.
Chapter Eight
“I want all the Bianchi members rounded up.”
Well, of course he did. Dominic stalked back and forth in his living room, rage radiating in waves. Zoey, stomach growing so much larger, sat with her feet curled up under her and rubbed her belly as she watched her mate with worried eyes. Giuliana detected pain off the Alpha mate and wondered what complication she was having. Dominic hadn’t said much of anything.
“Dominic—”
“Not now, Zoey.”
“Don’t you yell at me, you overgrown gorilla.”
Giuliana blinked, swallowing the urge to burst out laughing. Dominic whirled on his mate. “I am not a damn monkey.”
“I didn’t call you a monkey.”
He scoffed. “You just called me a gorilla!”
“Yeah, not monkeys.”
Dominic stared at his mate incredulously. “Zoey, maybe you need to lie down.”
“They’re apes, Dom. Apes.” She shook her head.
“Zoey,” he growled in warning.
Not afraid at all, Zoey pointed at her mate. “You can’t make a whole pack responsible for a few bad apples, and we don’t know what happened.”
“She’s right, Alpha. We only know their scent was there.”
This response only made Dominic glare at Giuliana. She was really tired of the glaring thing he’d been doing since she and Pasquale had returned. They’d waited two days to do anything, as Dominic had been livid and deadly. Thank gods for Zoey keeping him busy with crazy demands to get ready for the baby.
The reprieve could only last so long.
Pasquale stood beside Giuliana, feet spread shoulder-width apart and hands clasped behind his back. He’d been quiet the whole time, keeping his head down so he wasn’t viewed as a challenge for Dominic
, but now his gaze was riveted to the Alpha.
Rounding up his pack would be a fucking death sentence for them, and they all knew it. It was a struggle for Giuliana not to reach out and soothe him. But she couldn’t—not then. Dominic would notice the move, and it would start another line of questioning she wasn’t ready to deal with.
But … what could she do? This was her pack. He may be her mate, but they weren’t mated yet, so she had no claim. Still, she was torn in two. Revenge for her people, or console her mate?
This was a mess.
Her wolf was going fucking bananas, out for blood for Heath and wanting to protect Pasquale at the same time. It made her skin itchy, pulling things taut.
Mine.
He is, but Dominic is our Alpha.
Snort. For now.
Don’t start, wolf.
But he’s hurting, and Snow is ready to break.
Snow?
An impression of Pasquale’s large white wolf filled Giuliana’s mind. You named his wolf?
Why not? You all have names. I’m Red. Hot, right?
Giuliana rolled her eyes. Okay. Focus.
If I focus, I’ll want to fight again.
Point taken.
“Fine. Tell me what you saw, Giuliana.”
Dominic didn’t acknowledge Pasquale, and Giuliana wasn’t about to have that. She may understand his rage, but Pasquale hadn’t been the wolf responsible.
“Pasquale was able to track the scent to the far reaches of the Greenwald, where he found the clearing. Blood covered the ground, and with my knowledge, I assumed there was enough to kill a person. It doesn’t mean he’s dead, but if he’s alive, I don’t know how he would’ve gotten away.”
“Was there a trail out?”
“No, Alpha. Only trail leading away was that of the wolves.”
“The Bianchi wolves.”
Giuliana gritted her teeth. “Yes, Alpha.”
Finally, Dominic’s gaze swung to Pasquale. “Which wolves?”
Pasquale didn’t falter, and Giuliana couldn’t help a sense of pride swelling in her chest. Her mate was not weak, he wasn’t afraid. He’d stand up for what he believed in.
Head thrown back, Pasquale answered. “The wolves who didn’t join with the Lombardis.”
Romano, always there, always by Dominic’s side, shifted from his stance in the corner of the room. Kalinda had been buried at the Trinity Council offices with Silva the last few days, and it freed Romano to be on hand for anything.
The large wolf rolled his shoulders, the grips of his holstered handgun catching the light for a moment. “How do you know?”
“By smell.”
“Garbage must be killer for you,” Romano retorted. His normal joking mannerism leaked through, but the edge to his voice stripped it of levity.
“Most times it burns my ass hairs.”
Romano blinked at Pasquale’s response before chuckling. “Good one.”
“Dominic, you know not all of my former pack came over with the blend. There were some who relished how Primo ruled, the dark power he infused in them. They saw the way things were going and—” Pasquale stopped and glanced over at Zoey.
“What?” Giuliana growled at Dominic’s harsh tone.
She swallowed the sound when he frowned at her. Shit. That wasn’t really keeping things cool. Pasquale took one step over, slightly in front of her, taking Dominic’s attention.
Well, this isn’t subtle at all.
But it worked.
“He had a group of men who were his Enforcers. They were the cruelest. Not meant to be Capos, but soldiers to do his bidding. The Renegades.”
The Renegades. She remembered that name from somewhere but couldn’t remember why. It was on the tip of her tongue, but no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t grasp it.
The Renegades are coming, little one. Hide. Hide away.
Giuliana shook her head. What the hell was that? The … voice. So smooth, so deep, but feminine. Her wolf whimpered but gave no answer.
“The Renegades are a myth. A thing of the past. They were wreaking havoc in Boulder, but in the early years before portal cities were even planned. In a time when wolves weren’t contained like they are now. And Primo was not their leader,” Dominic argued.
Pasquale shook his head. “Primo always wanted to rule Encantado. In his mind, the main families should have been Bianchi and DeLuna.”
“The DeLunas are the Moonstone Pack’s leading family. They run the entertainment district.”
“So you’re saying they are weak? Maybe Primo thought he could rule them,” Zoey mused.
Dominic snorted. “There’s a reason the Moonstone Pack acts as liaison between the mages and wolves. They could kick our asses if they wanted to.”
Zoey’s draw dropped. “What?”
Romano shrugged. “As much as I hate to admit it, and I’d never say it in front of one of the bastards, but they are the largest singular pack in Encantado. With the Morettis allied with the Lombardis, it makes us comparable, but we’re under two Alphas while they are under one. Their sheer size gives them the big dick on campus.”
“And their control over the southern side of Encantado is absolute. We’ve tipped the balance with Kalinda and Silva on our side, but going against them would mean war. Too many would die,” Dominic explained.
Pasquale reached back and touched Giuliana, his fingertips barely grazing the top of her hand. She liked that small caress. She shifted closer to him, sinking into his heat.
I’m here.
He took a steadying breath. “Primo knew he couldn’t beat them, but if he was measurable in size, absorbing Moretti’s pack would have made them equal. At least then they’d have to have a truce directed by the Council.”
“And he would have had an in with Benedict,” Zoey surmised.
“Exactly. And with the Renegades by his side, he would have eventually picked at the Moonstone’s numbers with Council help.”
Romano shook his head. “Primo had it all planned out, the bastard. Didn’t work out that way in the end.”
Dominic rubbed his chin. “Okay, say I believe you, and Primo had the Renegades. Why would they attack Heath?”
Hide! Don’t come out until I come for you. Promise me, Lana. Promise me.
Giuliana groaned, grabbing her head. Pasquale turned quickly, taking her into his arms. “What is it?”
But she couldn’t speak, couldn’t acknowledge him. Words and pictures morphed in her head too fast for her to grasp and understand. Hands pushing her into a closet, the inky black of the space closing around her, snarls and snapping teeth echoing in her ears.
Breathe, Giuliana.
I can’t.
It’ll pass.
What is this, Red?
Memories.
I don’t know what is going on.
Breathe.
I am fucking breathing.
Hide!
The scream ripped through her skull, ricocheting inside and cracking as it went. Giuliana grabbed her head. Dominic, Romano, and Pasquale may have hollered, Zoey screamed for her, but Giuliana was trapped. She couldn’t fight, couldn’t get away.
Breathe.
I’m scared, Red.
You were then too. But I’m here, just like before.
Her wolf didn’t sound like she always did, sarcastic and biting. Now she was soothing, a balm to frayed nerves. She almost sounded … motherly.
Red.
You were never alone, Giuliana. I’ve always been what you need, when you need it. Let me take it.
Red …
Let go, Giuliana. I’m here.
She sank, fading into the darkness. Warm fur wrapped around her, heat and power. Her claws exploded from her fingers.
Let go.
Don’t hurt anyone, okay?
Never. You will see.
“Shif—”
“Don’t make her.”
Dominic’s Alpha call wrapped around her, freezing her shift mid-motion. Her cells
burned, screeching to a standstill instantly, but Pasquale’s demand broke the power. She rushed for her change, pulling it around her.
“Are you out of your fucking mind? She’s going feral and my wife is here. Shif—”
“She won’t, and she is my mate.”
The world froze. Romano in front of Zoey, crouched low and teeth bared. Dominic was in front of Pasquale, his gaze riveted on Giuliana but the warning in position clear. He’d rip Pasqual apart to get to her. But Pasquale didn’t move or back away.
He stood firm, his hand out to her the whole time.
Red?
Snow!
Safe?
She’s scared. She can’t be scared, not like this.
We will protect her.
Giuliana landed on all fours in the room, muzzle up in the air and sitting on her haunches. The memories weren’t so loud now. They faded to a buzz on the edge—insistent, but not clear enough to hurt anymore.
Good. He smells good.
Warm fingers threaded through the thick scruff right behind her ear, and her tongue lolled out of her mouth. She like that, a lot. Pressing her body into the touch, she whined softly.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Dominic raged.
Male, don’t piss me off.
He’s our Alpha.
Red snorted. Alpha or not, he won’t be much if I bite off his balls.
What happened?
This voice was Pasquale’s instead of Snow, and Red liked the way he sounded too. A lot.
The past.
What?
She almost remembered what she can’t remember.
Something with the Rene—
Don’t say that name. She is hanging on by a thread right now.
Is it easier not to ask about that, Red?
For now, yes. She’s never been able to face it.
He was talking to her wolf, and she heard the conversation but it didn’t register. None of it did, really. They were words on a page in a language she was barely aware of. They slid into blankness as soon as they stopped talking. And that was fine with Giuliana. She didn’t want to think.
It was much easier to just be. To enjoy this moment. The snow and fresh dirt scent wafting off her mate. His heat suffusing her skin and warming her. The way he protected her. She liked that much better.
Mated to the Prince (Portal City Protectors Book 3) Page 6
