Of course, living with the Lombardi Pack almost made it obsolete. Even outside of pack lands, just being within their territory meant he could go to anyone for help. First, that was from fear, but with the work Dominic and Zoey had done, there was respect and care from the people of District 17.
Many still feared the Lombardis, however. For all Zoey’s niceness, the wolves had not given up their place as members of the Family. There were still collections, no-holds-barred fights, magic shows, and a casino in the Arena that all brought in money that, sometimes, had bloodstains on it. They hadn’t stopped being what others should fear. They’d simply become the monsters who fought for those they loved, and the loved ones didn’t view them as enemies.
Evil is always in the eye of the wronged.
He sighed.
Guns always made him think this way, made him remember his training and his skillset.
What his father had bred him to be.
Before he could take one fucking step out of his room, another, more deadly reminder of who he was flashed in the corner of his eye.
Built for wear and accuracy, painstakingly wrapped in bronzed PVD finish along the muzzle and deep brown over the handle, his SIG 1911 Scorpion was a masterpiece in death and destruction. A lifetime of blood and beauty.
We are animals, and I don’t mean the wolf within us, Pasquale. Men are the beast. Our claws and our teeth are blades and bullets. Our strategy is the mob mentality. And we live and die by the Law. The fact we are wolves only means we have more in our arsenal. We rule them all.
That was what his father believed, and for a time, he did as well.
Until Primo died.
Until he realized his whole life had been a lie to propel his father’s vision.
Still, he reached for the gun. Felt the sense of calm control wrapping around him as he strapped it to his thigh.
Quick release, sight, breathe, shoot.
“Have you told them?”
Fabiana stood before him, papers in her hands. Knowing her, they were notes about his wolf. Thoughts in ink she’d never been allowed to voice before.
“About me? No. It doesn’t matter.”
“You were not meant to follow another Alpha, Paz.”
Calling him by his childhood nickname wasn’t going to make him agree with her. “Our people have been through enough. They’d look to me to be like my father, and I’m not him.”
“They look to you to protect them, as you always have, when you could. They knew you and love you. We can’t stay here.”
No, they couldn’t. But now …
He couldn’t talk to Fabiana about Giuliana. There was still bad blood between the two of them because of Fabiana’s part in the hell orchestrated by their father. The pack may have been accepted, but that didn’t mean the memory didn’t still burn hot. It wasn’t the time to open things up, and he wasn’t even sure if he’d have a mate when this was all said and done.
All he could do was focus on finding Heath.
“We’ll deal with it later. Right now, I’ve got to head out and find a missing pack member. It’s my job.”
Fabiana nodded, running one hand down his arm as he passed her. “Come back in one piece.”
“Hey, it was one time I came back in a couple pieces.”
“No, Paz, you came back missing a few pieces. Out of your thigh, if I remember right.”
“Toe-may-to, toe-mah-to.”
Fabiana rolled her eyes. “Pea-can, puh-con.”
“No,” he argued, shaking his head. “That’s just wrong. Why would you butcher that word like that? What did it ever do to you?”
