Chapter 4 - Dane
Dane rocked back in his chair, sprawling idly with his hands behind his head.
He was trying to pay attention to Nicolas’s droning, really he was, but he kept catching a glimpse of a bare bit of bicep and found himself wholly occupied with what his next tattoo should be.
His last had been a magnificent set of elk antlers that curved around his calf.
Maybe he should carry on the theme and get a stag’s antlers.
He couldn’t help the slow smirk that crept over his face. A stag…or perhaps a doe.
Too bad, does didn’t typically have antlers. Then again, the particular creature he was thinking of did like showing off her claws. Maybe a cat would be better. Or a vixen.
Now that was bound to get him into a world of trouble.
Perhaps he shouldn’t be considering a tattoo purely for the amusement of riling up a certain brunette student, but he couldn’t help himself.
Ever since he’d first met her, he’d found himself wholly preoccupied with finding ways to get under her skin.
He’d only seen her a handful of times since her disastrous pledge to Felix, but he’d taken advantage of every interaction.
A teasing word here, a well-timed joke there, and she was a sputtering mess of indignation.
Really, it was too easy, but it didn’t diminish his entertainment.
Not that it meant anything, of course. It was just a bit of fun. None of the pack females would let him be so mouthy with them, not if he wanted to keep his hide intact, and he always ended up in a brawl with the males if they sensed him making fun.
But Lola.
Lola was fresh meat. Untrained, untested, and oh so delightfully naive.
And then of course, there was the way her body reacted to his whenever he stepped in a bit too close to her, or leaned down to blatantly scent her.
Any she-wolf in her right mind would have slapped him, and he’d probably have deserved it, but Lola just got red-cheeked and flustered and scurried away from him like a nervous little mouse. But he could smell it on her.
She wanted him.
Oh, she might deny it. Might scowl and grumble at him, might snap and spit, but Dane considered himself an expert in such things.
She wanted him. But she would never admit it, to herself or to him.
And didn’t that make her the most delightful challenge.
“Something to add, Dane?” Nicolas asked, ice lacing each word.
Dane threw him a lazy grin. “Nah, you’re all good, Accardi.”
Nicolas sniffed, straightening the cufflinks of his ridiculously expensive shirt. “Really? Nothing at all to contribute to a conversation about border patrol?”
Dane heaved a sigh, dropping his forearms onto the table, leveling a wry look at Nicolas. “What is there to say? We run the border three times a day, and I’m always on at least one of those runs. Ain’t nothing getting through without leaving some sorta scent trail.”
“Shifters can drive cars, you know,” Rick said, flicking idly through the manila folders littered in front of him.
“Ain’t that why we’ve got Nicky and all his fancy tech?” Dane said, ignoring Nicolas’ slight growl of irritation at the nickname. “To combat any funny ideas shifters might get?”
“Take this seriously, Dane,” Felix said, his jaw tight, “it’s important.”
Dane scowled at him. “Yeah, I know it’s important. I’m the one who’ll be getting into it with some rogue or some dumbass Black Claw if it ain’t good enough. So you can really trust my word when I say that we’re all good here.”
“A load of our preventative measures, our fencing, our physical security are brand-new,” Nicolas pressed, those icy eyes of his hardening to steel. “That means they might have weaknesses that we can’t foresee.”
“Thought you were the one to order them in. If they’re faulty, it kinda sounds like a you problem,” Dane said.
Nicolas bared his teeth, one finger tapping against the wood of the desk. Other alphas, higher-ranking members of the pack, shuffled nervously and exchanged anxious looks. It wouldn’t be the first time Dane had gotten into it with Nicolas, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.
Dane rolled his shoulders. He wasn’t about to put up with Nicolas and his damn, prideful attitude without at least some pushback.
“Enough,” Felix said. “Dane, we need the new security measures thoroughly tested. Do I make myself clear? I will not have a repeat of the…camping incident.”
Of course, Rick didn’t even have the good grace to shuffle in his seat, or cast his eyes downwards, or show any remorse at all for nearly killing Felix’s now-mate. He just sat, smugly unruffled, cocking his head to one side as if considering something academic.
Dane snorted. Rick was damn lucky that Cassie didn’t hold a grudge against him for attacking her when she had innocently stumbled into forbidden territory for a bit of stargazing.
If she did, Dane had no doubt whatsoever that Felix would have done something about it by now.
And as much as Rick liked to posture, none of them were on their own strong enough to go up against the alpha.
Well. Dane probably would be, if he were really trying. But that was what made him such a good enforcer. And because he was such a good enforcer, he was more than certain that he didn’t need to run a bunch of extra shifts testing something he already knew was working.
Still. Alpha’s bidding was his to obey.
“You got it, boss,” Dane said, throwing a wink at Nicolas. “If they’re a load of shit, I’ll let ya know Accardi’s been slacking.”
“Dane, for the last time,” Nicolas snarled, “this isn’t some joke—”
“It’s okay, Nicolas,” Felix said, eyebrows knitting together as he turned towards Dane. “I’m sure Dane is taking the security of the pack very seriously.”
Dane scowled. “Course I am. I just know that we’re all good, yeah?”
“Weren’t you the one who found Red Teeth’s massacre site just beyond our border?” Nicolas asked. “How in the world does that demonstrate us being all good?”
Dane’s teeth clicked shut as the images of the bodies, mangled and broken in the mud, flashed behind his eyelids. His wolf stirred, growling low in his chest at the memory, bristling protectively at the threat. But he shook his head, forcing his anger down.
“If there’s one thing Red Teeth ain’t, it’s subtle,” Dane said.
“If he were trying to break through the border, we’d know by now.
Besides, I thought it was your surveillance that caught up his trail way up north, a thousand miles from here?
Clearly, the bastard chanced it, got spooked, and ran off with his tail between his legs. ”
“We don’t know it’s him,” Nicolas said darkly, a hint of rage flashing across his face.
“But we know he ain’t here right now,” Dane said. “And if he does come, then we’ll deal with that at the time. My job is to fight off threats to the pack as I see ‘em, so point me towards a threat, and I’ll deal with it.”
“There’s always the Black Claws,” said Rick, inspecting his nails. “They’ve been acting up again. Maybe you should go deal with them. I’ll even come with you if you like.”
“You’re just itching for a fight, Rick,” Dane said. “The Black Claws ain’t threatening shit.”
Rick sighed. “Pity. They’ve been a thorn in our sides for far too long now. It would be wonderful if they finally gave us a reason to exterminate them once and for all.”
“They’re fellow shifters,” Felix said, his voice rumbling with warning. “They’re to be talked about with respect.”
“Well, with respect,” Dane said, leaning forward, “they’re a bunch of worthless cu—”
“Dane!” Felix snapped, even as Rick hid a laugh behind his hand.
Dane flashed a grin. “I think we’re done here, boss. I’ll run a couple extra border patrols, get some of the boys testing the perimeter. If there are any holes, we’ll find ‘em. But I can assure you, there ain’t any.”
Felix looked at him hard for a minute, testing to find any hint of sarcasm, and when he was content that Dane was actually telling the truth and would do as he said, gave one stiff nod.
Dane stood, stretching his arms over his head with relish. “Alpha, a pleasure as always. Rick, find something to do besides plotting open war with another pack. And Nicky…” he grinned, “try not to get too upset about any more fences, yeah?”
Nicolas’s snarl followed him as he strode out of the office, a smile wide on his face.
***
The night air was crisp as Dane walked home, heavy boots thudding softly against the cracked pavement.
Silvermist was peaceful at this time, the way he liked it, though his sensitive ears still picked up on the low thrum of his community.
Someone listening to jazz, someone singing to themselves in a garden, some children chasing each other through the streets.
As much as he liked to wind his pack brothers up, the truth was that nothing gave him as much satisfaction as the safety and happiness of his people.
Protecting them was his job, and he might not always show it, but he was damn proud of that job.
A gentle breeze blew by, carrying with it the scent of evening jasmine and somebody’s cup of Earl Grey tea. And instantly his thoughts turned to her.
Lola Devereaux.
The image of her wouldn’t leave him alone.
That pouty mouth, those wide eyes behind her prim little lashes, the way her cheeks flushed like she'd been caught doing something scandalous whenever he teased her. It should’ve been funny.
Hell, it was extremely funny, winding her up.
But it also scratched at something in him he didn’t quite know how to name.
She was too tightly wound, too proper, too proud.
And yet…there was something in the way she fumbled for words. The way she looked at the others at the bar was with hesitant hope. It wasn’t arrogance. It was…fear.
She didn’t trust anyone. Least of all him.
Nothing made a predator more curious than skittish prey.