“Brother.”
Pasquale closed his eyes before he shut his front door behind him. Fabiana stood at the bottom of his stairs, her dark hair flowing around her face and down to her hips. Her eyes were haunted and fearful.
Days and weeks may have passed since so much in their life had changed, but Fabiana was still a hiding, broken child. The vixen she’d once been was nothing more than a façade carefully crafted by their father to attract the sort of man he’d believed Dominic to be.
But here—in soft yoga pants and a t-shirt she probably took from his closet and her feet bare—she was nothing more than a woman who still didn’t know who she was.
“You can’t call me that.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. “But that’s what you are. We never could say it when … Primo was alive.”
Yes. Something else that man would never truly answer for. Fabiana was five years younger. Not much by shifter standards, but she’d be denied having the connection of a protective older brother. She’d been bred and taught to be the future Capo wife Primo intended, nothing more or less. If she hadn’t overheard an argument between Primo and Pasquale, she wouldn’t even know they were related.
“Come here, cucciola.”
At the familiar nickname, Fabiana brightened. He’d called her “puppy” from the time she was a small child, tripping as she ran behind him. She’d been clumsy and gangly but filled with so much expression.
Their father had ironed that out soon enough. Pasquale wished she remembered how to laugh easily like she did when she was younger. She was small in his arms, so different than Giuliana’s vibrance and strength. Fabiana’s shoulders had carried too much weight—they curved in on themselves. He pulled her close, inhaling the soft powder and snow of her scent.
The snow … it came from their mother, born in the mountains. It marked them, reminded them of their bond. Bringing Fabiana into the world had taken their mother’s life. Pasquale wished he could blame their mother’s death for the change in their father, but he’d been mean and cruel long before Luciana Orneti had taken her last breath.
Their arranged marriage had been doomed from the get-go, and it was why Primo saw nothing wrong with arranging Fabiana’s life as well and not waiting for a mate to her wolf.
“What did you do today?”
Fabiana chuckled, a sound like silver bells on the wind. “Why do you ask that all the time?”
“Because I’m interested.”
“No one’s interested.”
He lifted her chin so he could look down at her. “I am not our father. Tell me.”
“I painted for a while. But I don’t have the right tone to get it done. The one I have is more ultramarine when I want Phthalo blue.”
He had no idea what the hell she was talking about. Colors were just that. Why make up such crazy damn names? What the hell was Phthalo blue?
A blue you don’t know. Obviously.
You’re feeling uppity today, wolf.
No, I was up earlier, and you left the house.
She isn’t ready.
Ix-nay on the upid-stay.
He rolled his eyes instead of answering the animal inside him. Fabiana caught the eye roll and shrank.
“I’m-I’m sorry.”
“It’s not you. I’m fussing with Stupid right now.”
Fabiana cocked her head to the side. He remembered when she’d done that as a little girl, always studying, always watchful. He wondered for the umpteenth time if she’d have been a scientist or something if they’d left her alone.
“I think you are closer to your animal than most.” Her voice was stronger. It did this when she warmed to a topic and didn’t have to fear rejection.
Feeling better that he’d gotten a good subject change, he pinched her chin and stepped back.
“You said that before.”
She followed him as he went farther into his house. Fabiana’s home was for show, at best. Most of the younger pups used her place to hide and practice shifting at rapid speeds. Pasquale’s home had become her haven where people knew not to search for her.
And they kept it secret from the Lombardis as well.
“I think the more I think about it, it isn’t just about your interaction. Your wolf sounds almost human?”
Pfft. I have four legs, which is better than your stupid two. And I can lick my balls when I want to.
Pasquale choked on a laugh. “Yeah, he does.”
“But it’s not just what you’d think you’d say, or your tone, right?”
Pasquale nodded. His bedroom was cool and dark, the bed low to the floor just like he liked it.
Of course that made him think of Giuliana’s bedroom and what he’d like to do to her in it.
He groaned and focused on his sister’s question while packing his go bag. “Yes. His voice is … deeper than mine and doesn’t have the same cadence. His thoughts are like mine, yes, but not exactly what I’d say at the time.”
At first, he’d thought he was just going crazy, using the wolf as a way to get some separation from the world he was in. That he’d spent so much time talking to himself, he’d created an alter that just sounded like a wolf. But even when he shifted, he noticed his wolf thought the same way, played pranks on him—like tripping up his feet when he was trying to catch a rabbit.
They’d bonded as two souls inhabiting one body instead of just one who was both animal and man. And yet they were one. He couldn’t be separated without the other.
“Has he ever taken over control?”
“Like a feral wolf? Of course not.”
Some shifters who’d lost their way or sank too much into their misery could shift into their wolf and stay. The longer they stayed in wolf form, the less human they seemed to become. While they were more intelligent, they still appeared to be a wolf.
“Not feral, but he just has the reins.”
Can you?
I could, but I won’t.
Why?
Because we are one.
So it’s about respect.
Yes, but it’s also about being trapped.
You’d turn feral.
Yes. And I won’t do that to you.
“Were you asking him?”
“Yes. He says he could, but he wouldn’t because he could turn feral.”
Fabiana tapped her lip, so many thoughts racing through her eyes he couldn’t keep up. “I wonder.”
He didn’t even respond; she was gone anyway. One moment she was a battered shell, unsure of what or who she was, and the next she was in search of answers to questions no one would think to ask. He was happy as long as she became comfortable in her own skin. It might be like walking through a minefield sometimes, but she was worth it.
She deserved to have some peace, and he’d do everything he could to give it to her.
Bag packed, complete with his gun and holster, he clipped the bag on his back, balancing the band that held it over one shoulder and across his chest to the other side of his body. The design allowed for him to shift in and out without being strangled or tied up in something around his front two legs. He’d perfected the art of rolling several sets of clothes into the bag with provisions, water, extra ammo, and a medical kit. He could stay away from his pack for weeks if need be.
Of course, living with the Lombardi Pack almost made it obsolete. Even outside of pack lands, just being within their territory meant he could go to anyone for help. First, that was from fear, but with the work Dominic and Zoey had done, there was respect and care from the people of District 17.
Many still feared the Lombardis, however. For all Zoey’s niceness, the wolves had not given up their place as members of the Family. There were still collections, no-holds-barred fights, magic shows, and a casino in the Arena that all brought in money that, sometimes, had bloodstains on it. They hadn’t stopped being what others should fear. They’d simply become the monsters who fought for those they loved, and the loved ones didn’t view them as enemies.
Evil is always in the eye of the wronged.
He sighed.
Guns always made him think this way, made him remember his training and his skillset.
What his father had bred him to be.
Before he could take one fucking step out of his room, another, more deadly reminder of who he was flashed in the corner of his eye.
Built for wear and accuracy, painstakingly wrapped in bronzed PVD finish along the muzzle and deep brown over the handle, his SIG 1911 Scorpion was a masterpiece in death and destruction. A lifetime of blood and beauty.
We are animals, and I don’t mean the wolf within us, Pasquale. Men are the beast. Our claws and our teeth are blades and bullets. Our strategy is the mob mentality. And we live and die by the Law. The fact we are wolves only means we have more in our arsenal. We rule them all.
That was what his father believed, and for a time, he did as well.
Until Primo died.
Until he realized his whole life had been a lie to propel his father’s vision.
Still, he reached for the gun. Felt the sense of calm control wrapping around him as he strapped it to his thigh.
Quick release, sight, breathe, shoot.
“Have you told them?”
Fabiana stood before him, papers in her hands. Knowing her, they were notes about his wolf. Thoughts in ink she’d never been allowed to voice before.
“About me? No. It doesn’t matter.”
“You were not meant to follow another Alpha, Paz.”
Calling him by his childhood nickname wasn’t going to make him agree with her. “Our people have been through enough. They’d look to me to be like my father, and I’m not him.”
“They look to you to protect them, as you always have, when you could. They knew you and love you. We can’t stay here.”
No, they couldn’t. But now …
He couldn’t talk to Fabiana about Giuliana. There was still bad blood between the two of them because of Fabiana’s part in the hell orchestrated by their father. The pack may have been accepted, but that didn’t mean the memory didn’t still burn hot. It wasn’t the time to open things up, and he wasn’t even sure if he’d have a mate when this was all said and done.
All he could do was focus on finding Heath.
“We’ll deal with it later. Right now, I’ve got to head out and find a missing pack member. It’s my job.”
Fabiana nodded, running one hand down his arm as he passed her. “Come back in one piece.”
“Hey, it was one time I came back in a couple pieces.”
“No, Paz, you came back missing a few pieces. Out of your thigh, if I remember right.”
“Toe-may-to, toe-mah-to.”
Fabiana rolled her eyes. “Pea-can, puh-con.”
“No,” he argued, shaking his head. “That’s just wrong. Why would you butcher that word like that? What did it ever do to you?”
“Get out of here. I know what you’re doing.”
They both did, but it worked. The small smile dancing on her lips was enough for him. He leaned over and kissed the top of her head before going back toward the front door.
“You know I’ll be out of touch, but I’ll send messages when I can. What’s the rule?”
“Never ask details, and remember that if you’re contacting, you’re all right.”
“Good girl. I’ll see you soon.”
He closed his door behind him, the smile disappearing from his face. The land given to the former Bianchi was on the outskirts of the lands, near the top of the portal city barrier that kept them inside. The high, slightly shimmering magic was just visible on the horizon. It was a message as well as protection—they were not exactly accepted, but they were being given a chance to prove they’d have the pack’s back.
He understood it and didn’t fault Dominic for the move. It was up to Pasquale’s people to make the difference. But they were too scared, too abused under oppressive former leadership, and they no longer had a voice. Nearly half of them hadn’t joined with the Lombardi Park, and he couldn’t find the wolves who’d left. For all the strength in his nose, they’d alluded him, and it made him edgy. Encantado may have been a massive city with nearly a million or more people packed within it with new influxes, but that didn’t mean it was so large they should have been able to disappear from his nose.
Where were his former packmates, and why did he fear what their disappearance would mean for those who remained behind? He wasn’t so sure, but he could see the truth in what his sister said in their eyes. The ones who were waiting for him, hovering outside of his home to protect Fabiana … and him. Their Alpha, their nucleus.
For a moment, he let his power unfurl, grow, and swell under his skin. It drank from him as a man parched, exploding into the open space and sending wolves to their knees.
“Protect her while I’m gone.”
Pasquale didn’t have to shout for his command to reach them. They bowed their heads, but he shook his. He ripped his Alpha call away, locking it deep inside. He was just like his father, demanding when he should ask.
“Please.”
Wolves stood to their feet, shaking their heads in confusion.
Fuck, he was no good at this. At ruling. At leading. He didn’t know how.
Frustrated, he left.
And those outside watched him lope off. Hope shone in their eyes. He didn’t know if he could shoulder it, but he’d try his best.