Chapter 8
Jaxon
They’d erected a colorful tent city in what had once been an open field where the wildflowers and browning grass still held some of their shape under our feet. Music and the scent of cooking fires drifted from the main grounds in the center of the cluster of makeshift dwellings.
“You can park your tent here, Alpha.” Sarah, the witch with strawberry-blond hair and ivory skin, who was one of the Ossory coven ambassadors, pointed to the open spot on the western part of the field. “How many did you say were coming from Cadejo pack?”
“Just me.” I dropped my bag, with the twice resewn strap and busted seam, in the dirt.
Magic wielders in Cadejo were few and far between.
Most of the current ones were still babies, born in the last year after I’d taken over the pack.
I’d tried to coax some of the older ex-pack members to return, but they’d been through enough with Oscar that they didn’t want to set foot on Cadejo territory again.
It was on my list of things to change.
That list grew by the minute.
“No escorts or staff?” Sarah frowned as she looked over her clipboard. She didn’t smell like wolf, but she carried the Ossory scent, so she must’ve been important to the pack. Or at least important enough to be in charge of checking visitors into this event.
“Don’t need them.” I started putting together my tent poles. It was warmer out here than my territory, and I would’ve welcomed sleeping under the stars, but I wasn’t among wolves.
“An Alpha who does his own heavy lifting.” Sarah offered a small smile. “Is that true of all the packs out west?”
Now I knew she had some standing in Ossory pack. Witches didn’t normally mock wolves, unless they were powerful enough to hold their own.
I checked the petite female over with fresh eyes, wondering if I could discreetly sense her power somehow. Her smile grew brighter. I quickly looked away, worried she’d get the wrong idea.
By the gasp Sarah made, I figured she found something more interesting to smile at anyway. “Who is that?”
She’s here.
“Tisiphone Cerberus,” I said without glancing up, making short work of the poles on the tent and pulling the canvas tight.
“Tis…. Tisif… Cerberus. We have a Cerberus here.” Sarah checked her chart.
“She goes by Trish.” I stood, watching the tornado of a woman with teal hair and a bag twice her size march across the field on shapely, tanned legs. “You might want to write her preferred name down.”
*
“Where’s the rest of Cerberus Pack?” I teased Tisiphone after promising Sarah I’d get Trish settled in before the bonfire kicked off the festivities tonight.
“You can’t smell them?” Trish adjusted her pack’s shoulder straps. “I’m sure they can hear us talking over here.”
“Rough trip?” I asked.
She groaned. “The worst. Forty-eight hours of nonstop bitching and fighting. At this point, I’m hoping that Vincent Matthis is building an army I can join so I don’t have to journey back with my sisters.”
“You don’t mean that.” I smiled, only feeling slightly sorry for Tisiphone. Cerberus Pack was… close. After their years of isolation, it made sense. “You’re lucky to have others who care so much for you.”
Pity filled her eyes.
Gritting my teeth, I backtracked. “That’s not what I meant. I mean—”
“I know what you meant.” She cut me off with a nudge of her shoulder, saving me from any further awkwardness as we stepped back into our dance. “What’s the deal? Where is everyone else?”
“They’re all over here.” I touched the small of her back, guiding her next steps, and ignored the excited howl of my wolf at being allowed to touch Trish so intimately without her shying away.
“Gentry’s tent is there. Calla’s is the big one. Ahmad and Amir are in the yellow and blue striped tent.” I led her closer with each step, still moving lightly. “And I’m over here.”
My heart beat harder as I thought this through and I pulled out every bit of control to calm it down so Tisiphone wouldn’t notice. We’d get the next few weeks together. Sleeping side by side.
A second chance, my wolf whispered.
“We’re so close.” She chewed her bottom lip.
“This looks heavy.” I snatched the bag from her shoulder, holding it just out of reach, and forcing her to hurry to catch up.
“Where are you going with my stuff?” She stomped along behind me.
“To your spot.” I placed her bag on the softer ground beside my tent, making sure her sisters could still get a good view from where I assumed they were holed up on the Ossory border.
I resisted the urge to unzip her bag and start putting together the tent myself, knowing Trish would take that as a hit to her pride. “I told the welcome committee I’d get you all set up.”
Tisiphone’s smile didn’t reach her eyes as she looked nervously at the other tents. “Are you sure everyone wants me this close to them?”
We’re sure.
“Of course.” I waited until she unzipped her tent and shook out the poles before reaching to help. “It’ll be just like old times.”