Devan leapt to his feet. A growl rumbled out of his chest, deep and possessive. Zio gripped his elbow and motioned to Danielo to leave. “Easy. I’ll do it up, see? And I’ll even take your quack pills. Just don’t kill my brothers, okay? I need them.”
Devan needed them too, but with Danielo’s scent still lingering in the tent, it was hard to think clearly. He pulled Zio close, rougher than he’d meant to. “Wherever you’re going, hurry back.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The push and pull of a triggered bond was officially insane. And a complete ball ache. Zio couldn’t see how anyone in his position ever got anything done, how the whole world didn’t grind to a halt because shifters couldn’t get their shit together.
Not thattogetherwas on Zio’s radar. At least, it wasn’t when responsibility put a safe distance between him and Devan. When the possessive, demanding current hummed weakly enough to gift them perspective.
Zio scanned the camp. His gaze automatically sought Devan out, but the skip in his pulse when he found him was bearable. Or maybe it was masked by Zio’s concern for the soldier Devan was currently bent over, a scout from a returning patrol. Zio caught Danielo’s attention and jerked his head in Devan’s direction. “Find out what happened. Nothing came through on comms.”
Danielo hurdled the hedge separating the communications base from the rest of the camp. The most agile of all Zio’s team, he moved with a grace that was almost feline, though he had nothing on Devan—
Focus.
Zio forced himself to turn away from Danielo and Devan and study the intelligence spread out in front of him. Patrols over the last few days had confirmed the activity close to the border had been the human army setting up a base of their own, a clear attempt to discourage shifter violence, though all they’d truly achieved was to drive the enemy to a place where Zio couldn’t see them.
He drew circles on the big maps with a pencil. “If the southern packs believe Shadow Clan have joined us, they’ll want to attack as soon as possible. Catch us before clan forces arrive to boost our numbers.”
“Shadow Clan have ways of moving their people without the rest of us knowing,” Michael said. “The enemy might think they’re already here. That’s why they’ve pulled back, because they’re scared.”
Zio could think of a dozen enemies he’d rather face than the powerful clan Devan came from, but Michael’s theory didn’t sit right. For Shadow Clan’s reinforcements to make a difference, they’d have to be substantial, and the enemy would see that. Without Gale on the front to shield Zio’s soldiers, enemy drones saw as much as their own. “They’re not scared. They’re testing us. Waiting to see if we chase them down or stay put, shore up, and prepare to fight here.”
“You think they’ll attack the camp? Even with the humans there?”
“No. They’ll either attempt to draw us out or they’ll wait for the humans to move on, which they will if nothing happens soon. You know they’re only here for the media coverage. They don’t give a shit if we destroy each other.”
Michael grunted, though Zio couldn’t tell if he agreed or not, and his attention soon wandered again, drifting back to where Devan was still working on the wounded shifter. Gentle hands. Soft smile. Everything Zio’s wolf wanted to claim as his own.
Danielo returned. “Idiot got hit by a truck. It flipped him into a tree and a branch went through his thigh. Missed the artery, but it’s gonna take a while for Devan to put it right.”
Zio scowled. “How does that even happen? We can sense approaching vehicles from miles away.”
“Fucked if I know.”
“Why don’t you know? I sent you over there to find out.”
“Dude’s lost a bazillion pints of blood and crawled back here. Give him an hour, eh?”
Danielo wasn’t known for being the voice of reason, but he possessed more patience than Zio right now. With a sigh, Zio waved him away. “Whatever. Find out later. I don’t want defective scouts on my watch.”
“Yes, boss. I’m off to get the dinner on. Can’t have Michael and Devan showing us up.”
Danielo ambled away. Zio brooded over maps and surveillance footage until nightfall, then returned to the tent, heart sinking when he found it empty, though he’d known from fifty feet away that Devan wasn’t there.
Woodsmoke reached Zio’s senses. Danielo’s laughter as he called to anyone close enough to pay him attention.
Zio rolled his eyes, and his stomach growled. Somehow over the last few days, he’d grown used to the regular hot meals cooked up on the campfire, and his appetite had become befitting of a shifter. He was hungry all the time. He cast a glance at Devan’s stuff, neatly piled in the corner, half-hidden by the chaos that was Zio’s belongings.He brought the kitchen sink in that tiny bag. I wonder if he’s got any food.
Searching through Devan’s things was all wrong, but Zio’s nose led him to a supermarket bag tucked under a coat. Inside he found nirvana—ginger biscuits, salt-and-vinegar crisps, and a packet of Rolos.How did he know?
Zio pondered on it as he ate his way through Devan’s supplies but was no further to the answer when Devan returned a little while later, the scent of another wolf’s blood clinging to him. A growl threatened in Zio’s chest. He swallowed it down with the last of the biscuits and offered Devan the empty wrapper. “I’m not even sorry.”
“I don’t want you to be. I got them for you.”
“How?”
“I went to a shop. We’re not stationed on the moon.”