Chapter 8

Nova woke before dawn the next morning, his entire body aching. At some point during the night, the pain had been so intense that he had shifted back into a man. The wound on his side spanned from one side of his hip to the other. It was beginning to heal, a mound of scar tissue covering the gash, his skin pulling as he walked.

Nova thought back to Amara’s face as she fired that gun the night before. For ten years, he had been watching her, protecting her, making sure Kal could never come near her again, and in one night, one night, he had turned his back for the length of time it took for her to get home, Vann had attacked her. He would have killed her if Nova hadn’t been on his way over in the first place.

When he was seventeen years old, Nova had looked down at Amara, lying broken and bleeding on the sidewalk thanks to Kal Vann’s savagery. Since then, he had made a vow to himself that he would never let anything bad happen to her again.

And he had failed.

To make matters worse, she ended up saving him. Amara wasn’t the only one Kal and his buddy almost killed last night.

Nova frowned. He hadn’t thought he would have to explain his absence to Nemoy. If his brother found out he’d gone to see her in the bar, talked to her, and fought the heir to the Valley Clan for her…well, it was safe to say that Nova would be in quite a bit of trouble with his Alpha.

Might as well prepare for it.

Suppressing a sigh, he kept moving. God, he hurt. A perk of his genetics was that shifters healed remarkably fast, but it was going to take a day or two for him to heal completely. Damn it.

Pushing through the pain, Nova hiked the two miles out of town to where his black Dodge was parked. He reached under the truck and pulled out his spare key. Unlocking the door, he retrieved a spare pair of pants, shoes and a tee shirt from the back seat and dressed. It was a good thing he was always prepared, he thought, as he slid into the front seat and put the key into the ignition. The truck roared to life, idling with a familiar purr. He ran his hands over the steering wheel, breathing in the intoxicating scent of treated leather.

Nova loved his truck—he even called her Betsy. It was one of the only things that let him escape the pressures of pack life. It was one thing to run as a wolf, to feel the open air as he flew through it and it invaded his senses. He enjoyed the smell of the woods as he barreled through the trees. He loved the power as his paws plodded against the earth, kicking up mud in his wake. He always felt invincible. Yet it was his truck that he preferred from time to time.

There was something about being human and being in control of all that metal, noise, and power that was invigorating. And being able to eat up all that distance while listening to music and feeling human was a freedom he could never explain. No matter how many times he’d tried.

Nemoy would never understand.

As the Alpha of the Mountain Clan, his brother was the biggest advocate for shifters. Their abilities were passed down genetically, inherited from one generation to the next. Whereas Nova believed mating with the humans would diversify and expand the pack, Nemoy seemed almost afraid of the idea.

He said humans would dilute the gene pool, leading to children who weren’t actually wolves. They would bring disease and immune deficiencies the pack wasn’t susceptible to, potentially wiping them out. Time after time, Nemoy preached about the necessity of secrecy, of keeping the wolves of the Mountain Territory pure and free of outside influence.

Please.

Nova snorted, thinking to himself. What did Nemoy know? His mate, Ivanah, had been his childhood sweetheart. Nemoy convinced their father to approve the marriage years before a betrothal could have been made. He’d never even been around humans other than to guard them. He’d never felt for a human what Nova felt for Amara. And he never would.

Wolves mated for life. It was a contract, not just to their mates, but to the pack and their ancestors as well. To violate that oath was to be banished, shunned from the pack for life. And, if the ancients willed it, they could be cut off from their inner wolf as well. Wolves mated with wolves. Humans were forbidden. Infidelity was not tolerated, no matter what the circumstances. Any children produced from an outside relationship would be kept in the pack, of course. But there always seemed to be something of a stigma around those kids, as if they themselves were the oath breakers. It wasn’t fair, but it was the way that it was.

For those that were joined through an arranged union, being married to someone you despised was like torture. For that reason, the packs had instigated several trials that mated pairs had to go through to ensure the strength of the mated pair would benefit the wolf community as a whole. It was rare for a couple to fail the trials, but it wasn’t unheard of.

With Nova’s luck, he would probably fail, if he ever even found a mate. Perfect.

Grabbing his sunglasses from the passenger side visor, he put them on, grateful for the shield from the sun. Shifting the truck into gear, he eased it out onto the road and gunned it, thrilled by the roar of the engine and the tread of the tire on pavement.

It didn’t take long to reach the unmarked graveled road that led to his village. The Pack owned their eighty-acre plot of land for the last two hundred years, well before the town of Strathford had been founded. And so far, they had been able to keep it from prying human eyes. They paid their taxes and made enough money working for the humans to maintain the commune, but they were a closed community. And with Nemoy in charge, humans were just part of the territory under their protection, nothing more.

Nova didn’t agree.

He pressed the gray button in the middle of the clicker on the visor. His keen hearing could only just discern the electric hum of the gate as it swung open. He followed the road for another mile before reaching a second gate. This one had a guard station made of gray brick and covered in moss for camouflage. Rolling down his window, he grinned at the guard. He was one of the cadets who had just joined the Protectors. Young, eager, ready to serve. He reminded Nova of himself ten years ago.

“How ya doing, Nate?” he asked the kid, tipping down his shades.

Nate grinned back. He waggled his eyebrows. “Late night, Nova?”

Nova smirked. If he only knew. His hip hurt just thinking about it. As the buzz sounded, the gate swung open, and Nova drove through. The houses in the village weren’t much, but they didn’t have to be. They were functional. Small, maybe, but as most of the pack preferred to spend a lot of time in wolf form, the lack of size didn’t really bother them.

Pulling up in front of his cabin, Nova cut the engine, grateful to be home. He wanted a shower. Maybe to soak in his hot tub. He wanted fresh clothes. But most of all, he wanted a beer. He didn’t care that it was only six in the morning.