Chapter 3 - Conan
Simon slows down the cargo van as he hits the indicator switch, taking a neat turn into a street where we come face-to-face with a sign hanging by a measly thread on a signpost.
“Augusta,” it reads, swinging when a gentle wind passes, amplified by the van moving past it.
“Almost there,” the beta announces, and an eerie chill travels down my spine. I glance over my shoulder, but all I can see is a solid metal wall between the passenger compartment and the cargo section.
Most of the back half of the van is secured by thick metal sheets, which Amos and the team covered in wards and sigils to keep Marcus Hale from being sniffed out or tracked by demons.
The journey from Bitterroot to Augusta was peaceful, the soft jazz from the speakers a distraction from what lies ahead. It’s not so much the human in the back of the van I’m worried about, but rather, the pressure of finding my true mate within the witch coven.
I grunt in irritation under my breath, and the sound catches Simon’s attention as we inch toward a gated fortress in the middle of a town that appears abandoned.
“What’s up, Conan?” he enquires, and I sigh heavily, wishing the leather seat could open up and swallow me whole.
I turn my face to the window as he rolls his window down and presses the button for the intercom.
“You weren’t at the meeting last night,” I mumble. “But I thought they’d brief you on what happened.”
“The council meetings have become rather secretive,” he chuckles. “It’s either you’re there, or you have no idea what’s going on.”
“It’s not like that in Red Moon and Silver Stone,” I return with a frown as I turn back to Simon.
“I thought you ordered secrecy when it comes to meetings,” Simon responds with an equally quizzical frown.
I shake my head, my hand on the armrest curling to a fist when realization dawns.
Grandfather Bernard.
Even though he’s no longer the alpha of the pack, he manages to find ways to slip his own commands in.
“There should be no need for secrecy, Simon,” I grunt. “Unless my grandfather is too embarrassed by my inability to find my true mate.”
Simon arches a brow at me just as the rusted metal gates part to reveal the driveway.
“You are the alpha—our leader. Nothing you do or don’t do is an embarrassment. We trust your leadership.”
I scoff as Simon kicks the van into gear and advances through the gates. “You’re only saying that because you’re my beta.”
“I am your best friend, too. So you gotta trust me when I say I’m not tryna blow smoke up your ass.
But I’m also gonna remind you to get your head out of your ass, too.
” He slaps the back of his hand against my chest. “You should loosen up. We’re on ops, on our own, for the first time in three years. It’s gonna be fun.”
“Fun?” I sneer. “They’re all waiting back home like hawks, expecting me to return with my mate. Amos thinks she might be in this coven.”
Simon glances at me and scrunches his nose. “Just tell them she’s not. Go back and tell them they had the wrong gal. Simple as that, buddy.”
I press my lips into a firm line and stare ahead. “Hmph.” I let out a heavy sigh. “But if I don’t find her, I don’t have my powers. At this point, I’m not sure what’s worse.”
“Well, you can decide what you wanna do some other time. Let us deal with the stray in the back and hook the valley up with the alliance. That should keep them happy.”
“You know…you’re not a very good influence.”
Simon turns and tosses me his most charming grin, blue eyes sparkling with childish mischief. “That’s not why you picked me as your right hand.”
“No. And it’s why I needed you at that fucking meeting last night!” I chuckle as I throw a playful punch at his shoulder. “You could have stopped me from agreeing to this shit.”
“Well, you’re just gonna avoid it for now,” Simon says as he navigates the van toward the old Victorian-style building with ivory walls and a mansard roof that adds to the dramatic effect of the place.
“It’s not like you can avoid it forever,” he adds as the van comes to a halt in a parking space we’d been directed into by a broad, hefty-looking man with a thick beard and clean-shaven head. “Iron Breath does need their powers back, and their alpha operating at full capacity.”
“I hate the reminder.”
“As your beta, it is my duty. As your best friend, I’ll let you off the hook for the weekend.”
Simon and I exchange knowing looks before we both climb out of the van. We’re greeted by the bald man and an entourage of new faces that emerge from the building and step onto the porch.
“Greetings, Iron Breath!” A woman with ash-blonde hair, shimmering green eyes, and wearing a cloak as pale as her skin comes floating forward, descending the stairs as if her feet don’t touch the ground.
“We welcome you to Augusta, home of the August Moon Circle,” she continues with a soft smile as she glances at the others who follow her.
“I am High Priestess Amalia Waters. These are alphas of the werewolf packs from around Helena Valley. While I would love to stay for the introductions, there is something else that requires my attention.”
Her eyes flit to the van, and I fall into step beside her as she makes her way to the back. Simon is already there.
“Marcus Hale. The human working for the demons. At least, he was until we caught him and destroyed his operations.”
Amalia Waters nods thoughtfully. “Wards are keeping his scent masked.”
“Yes.”
“The wards won’t hold for much longer. We will have to take him into the spell room underground.”
I nod. “We’ve been on the road for hours.”
“Then we shall take over.” She nods at the bald man who’s already waiting for her instruction. Together with Simon, the two of them open the back of the van and pull Marcus Hale out by the scruff.
There’s mumbling and groans muffled by the sack covering his head.
“I’ll show you where he’s being kept,” the bald man tells Simon. “We’ll go down together.”
Simon nods at me as he disappears with the man, and Amalia regards me for a moment.
“You are the Iron Breath alpha.” It’s an observation, not a question.
“Yes,” I reply flatly, a frown flitting past my face when the High Priestess doesn’t stop staring. “Is there something else?”
“No,” she shrugs diffidently. “Milly will show you to your quarters in the main house. That’s where our visitors will be staying for the weekend. But after I’ve made Hale comfortable, I’ll be in my study on the second floor. Come find me then.”
A shiver of dread skitters down my spine like I’ve been struck with a bolt of lightning, even as Amalia walks away. A young woman with flushed cheeks and big blue eyes comes toward me from the side of the van to introduce herself.
“I am Milly,” she says with a curt bow. “I will show you to your quarters, Alpha.”
“Thank you,” I return as she spins on her heel and sets forth toward the mansion.
I grab my backpack from the passenger seat and follow her forward.
The rest of the group hangs near the porch, and more introductions are made, but I can tell that I am the odd one out of the lot. The Goldfang, Nightcreek, and Blood Mill packs are clearly familiar with each other, and it’s my first time meeting them.
That’s why I’m relieved to be shown to my quarters, and the young witch, Milly, leaves me to my own devices, assuring me that I’m free to roam the village as I please.
Not that I want to.
With the conference meeting only set for tomorrow night, I don’t intend to make myself too comfortable around here.
But as I step into the shower while I wait for Simon to get back, and the warm water washes over me and washes away the journey from Bitterroot to Augusta, my mind drifts somewhere I wish it wouldn’t go.
Her cheeks are rosy, her skin a delicious, subtle tan, her eyes dark and fiercely shaped. Dragon-shaped eyes. Lips as plush and pigmented as roses in bloom.
My own eyes close as my hand travels over the contours of my abs until I find the hardness of my rigid erection hanging hot and heavy under the light spray of the shower. I stroke my cock, imagining her lips on the tip, wrapping around the shaft and—
No.
No!
My eyes fly open, and I pull my hand away like a thief caught in the act, slamming my palm against the shower tiles and panting like I’d been running in wolf form and just shifted back.
That was unexpected.
I let out a slow breath and wash up as normally as I can. But my mind still hangs on the image of the dark head that appeared fiery when the sunlight caught her at the perfect angle.
Why am I thinking about her again?
Why do I care?
I shouldn’t.
I don’t.
By the time I’m done changing into a fresh set of sweats, Simon returns from putting Marcus Hale in the coven’s holding cells.
“He has no idea where he is,” Simon tells me.
“Don’t believe a word he says, and keep a close eye on him. At least until we’ve left him to the witches. He’ll be their problem soon enough.”
Simon nods. “Amalia said to remind you to go see her.”
“She seems rather eager to speak to me, doesn’t she?”
“Well, she’s too old for you, bro,” Simon chuckles as he pulls out clean clothes from his bag. “Just tell her you’re not interested.”
I scoff. “I do plan on telling her I’m not interested. But I have a feeling it’s not as straightforward as it seems.”
Simon straightens up and frowns. “What does that mean? Is there something you haven’t told me?”
Sighing as I sink onto a sofa in the corner of the room, I steeple my hands in front of my chin and eye the aging Persian rug on the floor, following the paisley patterns of blue and burgundy woven into a neat piece.
“Amos spoke to the head witch already. Says that the woman I’m supposed to be looking for—the witch with fire and air magic—is here, in Augusta. Amalia confirmed it.”
Simon’s eyes widen. “She confirmed it? That’s why they sent you here…”
“No. I’m not going to pay attention to any of that. We’re gonna do what we came to do as far as Hale and the alliance are concerned, and then go back home. I don’t care to find my mate, even if she is here.”