Howler
He watched Tempest closely. She was in a constant state of strategic assessment in her every move.
The Capitol Wolves, backed by Mayor Lila Grant, were a far more sophisticated enemy than the street-level gangs he usually contended with.
This was a war on multiple fronts—physical, political, and technological.
And for the first time, he acknowledged that even his Silverfang Brotherhood couldn’t fight it alone.
They needed Dark Chaos. They needed Tempest.
“Mayor Grant is their key,” Tempest added, her jaw tight.
“She’s giving them the legal cover and the police support they need to take us all down.
We must expose her if we want this to end.
” Her anger was a palpable thing, and his wolf resonated with it.
Her determination was what drew his wolf to her.
He had to admit—it was pretty damn hot the way she protected her own.
“Aww, thanks, Prez. And to be clear, I can fix anything except for a broken heart. When a heart gets broken, it stays that way,” she insisted.
Tempest rolled her eyes, “Don’t mind Red,” she breathed. “She just broke up with some asshole, and she’s on a ‘No Men’ kick.”
“She’s leaving out the part about me finding him in bed with some she-bitch. And it’s not a kick,” she insisted. “It’s forever. I’ve sworn off men for fucking ever.”
Howler nodded, not hiding his smile. “Noted,” he said. “And thank you for the intel. I’m sure that we can help you get the technology that you need to figure out who’s making those damn things.” He nodded to the device she still held in the palm of her hand.
Moon, who had followed Red into the office, crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze fixed on Howler. “So, what’s your play, Silverfang? You’ve got the intel from those human enforcers yet, or not?”
“Not yet, but we’re working on it still. It’s only been a few days,” Howler said.
“What’s your club doing? Why is it taking so long?” Moon asked. Her distrust was a familiar, an almost comforting challenge. He met her stare without flinching.
“My club, the Silverfang Brotherhood, is already mobilizing our guys—getting them in place for when the war starts. We’re gathering our own intel and preparing for a coordinated strike.
But we need to hit them hard, and we need to hit them everywhere.
That means combining our strengths.” He held Moon’s gaze, letting her see the unwavering resolve in his eyes.
Tempest looked from Moon to Howler, then back to the map.
He expected her to step in as Prez, but she stayed out of it.
The distrust in Moon’s eyes was clear, a reflection of the deep-seated wariness that many of her sisters held against the male shifters.
Howler understood it; he had seen enough patriarchal packs abuse their power.
But the threat against them all was too great to allow old prejudices to dictate their survival.
He needed Moon and all of the female shifters to trust him.
And whether they wanted to admit it or not, they needed him and the Silverfang Brotherhood.
“We need a plan,” Tempest declared, her voice firm, cutting through the unspoken tension.
“A joint operation. Dark Chaos and Silverfang Brotherhood. We hit their political ties, their tech, and their muscle.” His wolf surged with pride, even though he had no right to.
He had no hold on Tempest, but she was magnificent the way that she commanded her pack.
Howler’s eyes, dark and intense, met hers.
A silent understanding passed between them, a recognition of the immense risk and the even greater potential.
“Agreed,” he said, his voice a low rumble that resonated deep within his chest. He was giving her his promise of unwavering support, and he planned on living up to that promise.
Their packs had spent the rest of the night going over strategies and trying to find a way to get along and work together.
It was a tall order since neither pack seemed to fully trust the other.
After the strategy session had broken up and the clubhouse had settled into a restless quiet, Howler knew Tempest would be alone in her office once more.
The weight of command felt heavier than ever for him, and he knew that she was feeling the same way.
She was leading her pack into a war, an alliance with a male alpha, a path that she probably swore that she would never take.
He had done his research on her, and he knew her history, the scars of past betrayals that made her so fiercely independent.
Her past made him respect her even more, if that was possible.
But he also saw the burden she carried, the loneliness of command.
It was a feeling that he knew well. Being in charge meant that sometimes he had to make hard decisions that not everyone agreed with.
He knocked softly on the door and then entered, a plate of food and a fresh cup of coffee in his hands. He placed them on her desk, and she looked up from the map and smiled at him. “What’s this?” she asked.
“Food,” he breathed, “eat it and take a break. You’re pushing yourself too hard,” he said, his voice gentle, a stark contrast to his usual gruffness. But there was something about Tempest that brought out that side of him, and his wolf.
“I’m the President,” she replied, taking a sip of the coffee. “It’s my job to push through and get the job done.”
He leaned against her desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s also your job to lead.
And a leader needs rest and food. She also needs support.
” His gaze softened, a vulnerability he rarely showed.
“Let me help you, Tempest. Not just as an ally, but as something more.” He knew that he was pushing her for something that she might not be ready to give to him.
Hell, maybe he was reading the situation all wrong and seeing signs that weren’t really there.
But for just a second, he saw the flicker in her eyes, the momentary softening of her defenses.
His wolf purred, a deep, satisfied rumble.
The air felt electric around them as the unspoken desire between them became a living entity.
He could hear her wolf stir, and he knew that he was getting through to her.
He didn’t miss the way that she looked at him, truly looked at him, and saw not just the dominant male, the mysterious stranger, but a partner.
He hoped that she saw him as someone who saw her strength, respected her command, and yet offered a solace she hadn’t realized she craved.
“This is dangerous, Howler,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, a hint of fear in her eyes.
“Life is dangerous, Tempest,” he countered, his hand reaching out to her as he let his fingers brush her cheek.
“But it’s better faced together.” His touch sent sparks up his arm, igniting the embers of longing he had felt for her every time they were in the same room together.
He felt her resistance crumble as she leaned into his hand, her eyes fluttering closed.
The weight of command, the constant vigilance, the burden of her pack’s survival all seemed to melt away, and for a fleeting moment, it all seemed to lessen under his touch.
She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze, and he saw her own desperate longing reflected back at him.
“Show me,” she breathed, her voice a raw plea. “Show me what us being ‘together’ means.”
Howler’s smile was slow and triumphant. His wolf roared to life as he pulled her from her chair, his arms wrapping around her, lifting her effortlessly onto the desk.
The maps and papers were scattered and forgotten as they fluttered to the floor around them.
His mouth crushed against hers, claiming her with a hunger that matched her own, a promise of the explicit, untamed passion that was about to ignite between them, a dangerous alliance forged in the heart of a city under siege.
Their packs were going over strategies in the next room, but at this moment, in the quiet intimacy of her office, a different kind of battle was being fought, a battle for their hearts, a battle he was slowly, willingly, losing.
But it was a battle worth losing if it meant that he’d finally win Tempest’s heart.