Lone Wolf (Strength of the Pack #6)

Chapter One

LEON

Something about the wolves’ invitation had felt wrong to Leon, even before their driveway threatened to shake his car apart. They’d turned off the highway half a mile back, and still the rutted track stretched out in front of them, seemingly endless.

He glanced in the rearview to check the second car was close behind and caught sight of his sister in the back seat.

She was as imperturbable as always, not a hair out of place despite the long drive from Seattle to Colorado.

Sure, they could have flown, but that would have meant crowds of people in cramped conditions, and Luna would do almost anything to avoid that.

She was more cat than anyone Leon knew. Given that just about everyone he knew, himself included, was a cat-shifter, that was saying something.

Turning his attention back to the driveway, he thought again about what lay ahead of them.

He hadn’t agreed with Luna’s decision to accept the wolves’ invitation, but now that they were here, he had to keep her safe.

Not only because she was his sister, but because she was the elected leader of the cat-shifters in the U.S. , and it was his job.

Given how little most cats liked being organized, the fact she’d gotten at least some of them to vote said a lot about how good she was.

Wolves, though… wolves couldn’t seem to do anything alone. Every decision was dragged through packs, councils, committees, subcommittees. It was never-ending. Talking to wolves was like trying to have a conversation with a filing cabinet.

And there were so many of them. Cats were rare, but wolves were everywhere. As if that wasn’t annoying enough, this particular pack had just shocked the entire country by declaring they had one of the fabled Argent shifters, long believed extinct.

Leon still didn’t know what possessed them to make that announcement. It had dominated the twenty-four-hour news loops for days, and it still hadn’t really died down, with breathless talking heads dissecting every clip of a silver coat under moonlight.

The car lurched again. Damn wolves couldn’t even keep their property in order. He was going to send them the bill for the suspension. If they made it to the house without blowing a tire, it’d be a miracle.

The route curved around a rocky outcropping and revealed a sprawling one-story house. A man was standing on the porch looking in their direction, and he raised a hand in greeting.

Leon had felt eyes on them shortly after they’d started up the so-called driveway, but didn’t know how the message they were on their way had been passed.

He hadn’t heard a howl, and he’d have noticed that, even over the engine.

Maybe the guy on the porch had simply been keeping watch, waiting for the cats to show up.

Luna had told them midday, and they were right on the dot.

Leon pulled in next to a line of parked vehicles, the second car drawing up beside him.

The man on the porch watched them with an easy patience.

Jeans, plaid shirt, cowboy hat—he looked more like a ranch hand than someone greeting the queen of the cats.

Nothing in his posture indicated that he knew his pack had managed to royally piss off the cat-shifters.

The cowboy stepped off the porch once they were out of the cars, his stride unhurried but deliberate. He stopped a few feet away, inclining his head in a gesture that was polite without being deferential.

“Bryce Reynolds,” he said. “Beta of the Elk Ridge pack.”

No offer of a handshake. Interesting. Maybe this beta understood respect. Or maybe he just didn’t want to touch a cat. Leon wasn’t sure which option he preferred.

“Good afternoon,” Luna said, her voice calm but remote, enforcing her status as one infinitely above this wolf beta. “I’m Luna Fitzroy. I represent the cat-shifters.”

Reynolds nodded, his eyes scanning the rest of the group, registering that they hadn’t been introduced or explained. He was smart enough not to ask. Instead, he invited them inside with a smile that showed faint crow’s feet, suggesting that either he smiled a lot or spent time outdoors.

The interior of the house held the unmistakable scent of dog.

Or, if Leon were to be accurate, it was a deeper, muskier smell than dog.

Remembering his sister’s intention to make nice with the wolves, he aborted the instinctive movement of his hand to block his nose, and instead tucked his long hair back behind his ear.

Reynolds led the visiting party into a large, sunny room. Worn leather sofas and chairs were scattered in no particular order, giving the impression of a room that was lived in, not organized for show.

Standing in the center of it, offering his hand to Luna, was a blond man who radiated something far more dangerous than Reynolds’ friendly welcome.

“Appreciate you coming,” he said. “I’m Matt Urban, alpha of the Elk Ridge pack.”

The hairs on the back of Leon’s neck stood up. He’d met wolf alphas before but never one like this. This wasn’t some posturing blowhard with an inferiority complex. This man had power running through him.

Luna inclined her head graciously when she shook his hand. “Thank you for inviting us.” A carefully judged smile touched her lips as she accepted Urban’s offer of a seat.

Urban introduced the other wolf in the room as Jesse Turner, his mate, who was also the Argent.

Leon studied him, trying to work out what all the fuss was about.

Turner wasn’t exactly impressive. On the scrawny side, not too tall, and dressed like he’d lost a fight with a clearance rack.

This was the living legend? But there was something in his eyes, something watchful and unafraid, that made Leon pause.

He wasn’t sure how to read Turner, and he didn’t like that fact.

Urban raised an eyebrow at Leon, a quiet request for introductions. The assumption in that gesture made Leon bristle internally—he was no damn wolf, rolling over for an alpha. But then he remembered they were on Urban’s territory and that Luna wanted them to play nice with the doggies.

“Joaquim, Ava, Antoni,” he said, gesturing at each in turn. “I’m Leon, security head for Queen Luna.”

Urban nodded at each cat, showing no reaction to Luna’s rank. Most wolves were surprised by it, but it seemed as if Urban had done his homework.

Leon moved to the window, checking for external threats, Antoni took up position by the door, and the others arranged themselves around the room. Leon was itching to search the house and the territory, but he’d been working this detail for Luna long enough to know when diplomacy trumped security.

“After all,” Luna had told him when he’d been arguing to bring extra guards with them, “they’re going to have the place sewn up tight against intruders.”

“Yeah, but they’re wolves,” he’d pointed out. “They’re not exactly going to meet our standards.”

“Your standards, you mean,” Luna said with a faint smile. “Okay, Leon—do what you think is necessary. You know what you’re doing, so I’m not going to ignore your advice. Just make sure everyone knows this is a diplomatic mission, not a pissing contest between cats and wolves.”

After a dark-haired wolf brought in glasses of tea on a tray, and then left again, Urban sat down, his gaze on Luna.

“Thank you for accepting my invitation,” he said. He sounded like a man trying to be sincere but impatient with both niceties and strangers. “We were wondering how to let the cats know what had happened.”

He paused for an instant, and Leon could see the moment when he decided to forget diplomacy and politics and get straight to it.

“Honestly, I didn’t know if you’d be interested in what a bunch of wolves have been up to, but it could change things for all shifters, so I figured I should reach out.

” His lip curled as he registered his phrasing.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’ve been spending too long with politicians lately. I’m starting to talk like them.”

To Leon’s surprise, Luna laughed. She obviously liked what she’d seen of Urban. Much as he didn’t want to admit it, Leon wasn’t hating him either. He might be a wolf, but he couldn’t help that.

Luna similarly abandoned politicking and went straight to the heart of the matter. The thing that none of them could understand.

“Why did you think it a good idea to go public over finding an Argent?” Her eyes flicked to Jesse, curled up in an armchair, hems of his jeans frayed, looking nothing like a legend.

Her voice vibrated with either fear or temper as she continued. “If non-shifters think we’re trying to set up some sort of mystical leader for all shifters to unite behind, they might think we’re trying to take over.”

She didn’t expand on what that could mean for shifters. She didn’t need to. And that, in a nutshell, was why the cats were so damn pissed at the wolves. Well, that was this week’s reason.

“Yeah,” Urban said ruefully. “Look, we weren’t going to tell anyone. It’s no one’s business but Jesse’s what color his coat is.”

Leon didn’t know if Urban was aware of the way his green eyes softened slightly when he spoke of his scruffy mate.

“Thing is, word got out, and then politicians got involved because some shifters”—he paused and changed his wording—“some wolf-shifters are ridiculously traditional or superstitious, whatever you want to call it.” He slowly massaged his temples as if he had a permanent headache.

“And that meant that if someone could produce Jesse and claim his support for their agenda, they’d be a shoo-in to lead the National Council.

I figured that if it were known that Jesse existed and had no interest in endorsing any cause or politician, then once everyone got over their shock, people would lose interest.”

Most of Leon’s attention was on the yard outside, searching for threats, but he was listening intently. Couldn’t hear any trace of a lie in Urban’s account.

“It’s not something any of us wanted,” Urban said. “But it was the only way to keep Jesse safe from those who’d have snatched him to use in their power plays.”

Oh, and there it was—that tendril of threat winding through Urban’s voice, the thing that Leon had sensed when he’d first laid eyes on him. God help anyone who tried to snatch his mate.

“That’s why you did all those interviews with the media?” Luna asked. “To let people hear from Jesse directly?”

Urban’s jaw clenched, as if at a very unpleasant memory, but then he relaxed slightly. “Hell, at least they paid us,” he said. “Means we’ve been able to install more security in case anyone comes snooping.”

Which probably explained how Reynolds knew they were on their way.

Leon’s eyes narrowed as he exchanged a glance with Joaquim.

He could see they were thinking the same thing—how they’d love to get a look at whatever tech Urban was using.

Joaquim because he was a tech nerd, Leon because he liked knowing stuff.

Especially when it was stuff that had been used to spy on them.

He turned his gaze out the window once more and waited to hear just why Urban had issued an invitation when everything he’d said so far could’ve been a text. But wolves never did texts when they could do eye contact and talking.