“Or what?”
“Or you’re no good to us.”
For the second time in as many hours, Zio walked away from Devan. He felt sick, but he blamed it on the heavy use of his gift in the fight. Exerting his supernatural abilities often left him with a headache, something Devan could’ve helped him with if he hadn’t been hellbent on saving the enemy.Why does he have to be so fucking difficult?
With no answer forthcoming from Zio’s subconscious, he repeated the question to Varian when he tracked down the satellite phone a little while later.
Varian sighed. “He’s not being difficult; he’s showing us an alternate path, just as we have shown him one in drawing him onto the battlefield. I’ll admit, my own desire to destroy as much of the southern packs as we can has left me merciless. Perhaps it’s time we tried something different.”
“You’re seriously considering saving a southern rat?”
“A wolf, Zio. Whatever they have become to us, they are still our own kind.”
Zio growled loud enough for a nearby soldier to shoot him an alarmed glance. Reining himself in, Zio ducked into a tent, letting solitude embrace him. Calm him. “Whatever. I still think it’s madness to waste our resources keeping them alive.”
“If Devan can heal the surviving wolf with his powers alone, we haven’t lost anything.”
“And then what, though? What if the enemy comes looking for her?”
“I’d imagine they won’t if they were happy to leave her behind in the first place. In any case, I will send an intelligence unit to your position to retrieve her. That way, no nearby enemy will sense that she’s still alive.”
Disquiet coursed through Zio’s veins. “But what if she doesn’t know anything? What do we do with her then? Kill her anyway?”
“If she’s away from your base, Zio, it won’t be your concern. Pass my orders onto Devan, and consider the matter closed.”
The discussion was over. The soldier in Zio regretted mentioning the injured southern wolf at all, but as Zio sent a messenger to Devan with Varian’s orders, the man Devan apparently wanted him to be felt nothing but relief.I can’t live with him being unhappy.
* * *
Devan drifted back to base, weary. Emotions that weren’t his own bombarded him from every direction, and he longed for his quiet couch in Zio’s bungalow.
He longed for Zio too, but if today had taught him anything, it was that whatever mythical connection they shared was nowhere near enough to bridge the gaps where they were worlds apart. If not for Varian’s eleventh-hour intervention, the female wolf would’ve died.
As it was, Devan had passed her over to northern intelligence. Who knew what would become of her now?
Fresh woodsmoke greeted Devan as he reached the tent city Zio’s forces had erected for shelter. Devan’s was at the back, the only way to get to it through the main area, crowded with off-duty soldiers letting off steam, and of course, he was sharing with Zio.
Devan picked his way through the clusters of men and women indulging in Danielo’s prescription for the ultimate downtime. It was nothing Devan hadn’t seen before, but as the scents of arousal and sex filled his senses, blocking out the blood and distress he’d brought back from the field, he felt no urge to join in.
He kept his gaze to himself until he found Michael in a quiet corner. Grateful for a familiar face that wasn’t attached to a naked body, Devan dropped down beside him. “Not your scene?”
Michael spared him a soft grunt. “Not especially. I’m not as... well, horny, I suppose, as the rest of them. Perhaps that part of me is broken.”
Devan hadn’t healed Michael, and so it was impossible to tell if he was joking. Given that he’d never seen the serious young soldier laugh, he went with the instinct that he wasn’t. “Being different isn’t broken. Have you ever been with someone?”
“Once. But she was killed soon after, so I was never sure if the feeling was permanent.”
“Emma?”
Michael shook his head. “Emma, to my knowledge, only felt that way about females. It was someone else... a friend.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”
“How long?”
“Five years.”