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They yipped, growled, barked and made all kinds of resonant grunting sounds. The noise just dozens of wolves could make together was overwhelming. But thousands residing in Savage had create a cacophony that had incited more than one inter-species war.
Mary had viewed several videos online featuring a multitude of howling wolves. She wasn’t surprised that the noise level had driven other alter species into a battling frenzy.
Now Savage was quiet. Time and a lot of rules had established when, how and where wolves could let loose, mostly, underground.
She experienced a sudden sinking of her spirit. She recalled what it had been like earlier to be making love with Fergus and ready to open up her throat and howl like a wolf. She’d restrained the sound, knowing it was necessary. But it had been like having a pair of reins in her hands and pulling with all her might.
The part of her that was sharing Fergus’s wolfness knew a powerful impulse to really let go, yet an equally strong instinct to keep silent. The result, however, was an ache in her soul.
Because of her faeness, she sensed how hard it was for wolves to remain in one place and to repress their needs to howl. The pervasive discontent in Savage was the primary reason why wolves like Fergus and Warren worked hard lobbying for National Forest terrain in the White Mountains of Northern Arizona where wolves could be wolves.
As they drew closer to Warren’s compound, she began to see scattered, small cottages through the tops of the pine trees. They appeared to be laid out in an arc so that each residence faced the compound dead on. Fergus didn’t approach from the north, however. Instead, he flew slowly along the eastern border of the lodge-like stone structure.
The trees opened up to a fairly wide street on the southern property boundary. Though most of the forest roads were made of dirt, this main thoroughfare was paved.
Fergus’s rough wolf voice touched her mind. In case you weren’t sure, this is the Caldion Compound. I’m contacting Warren now telepathically.
Good to know, she responded, aware suddenly that her fear of levitating had disappeared completely.
Her gaze was fixed on the compound below, taking it all in as Fergus began to descend. She saw that the visible portion of the complex looked to be at least five-thousand square feet and was made of stone with a dark gray slate roof. Most of the landscaping was traditional desert rock, hardy plants, and stone walkways.
At the north end of the complex was a large cement area free of trees. A bonfire burned there despite that it was June and hot during the day. Wolves loved fire.
Warren’s expecting us at the front entrance, Fergus said. He’ll meet us there. He said he has a dozen wolves standing guard with AR-15s.
Did you see all the men around the bonfire? Also armed? Fergus, there had to be at least a hundred.
I know. We’ve got a bad situation brewing because of Sydon and his determination to work with the cartels. If we’re not careful, tonight’s events could launch another massive war in Savage.
Why a war?
He snorted. You were right to be worried about the violence in Savage. When our blood gets up, sometimes we forget who the enemy is. Wolves get hurt inadvertently, which causes a pack to rise up and call for revenge. It can be a real domino effect in our territory.
Mary wasn?
?t surprised. Her sister had died because a few wolves near Alicia had lost it and ended up killing her and several more bystanders. As Fergus had put it, they’d gotten their blood up.
He flew in a wide arc, passing well beyond the paved road to the tree-line opposite Warren’s home. He swung back toward the road and crossed it, descending slowly, which served to make his presence known to Warren’s guards.
But Mary’s fae senses told her he didn’t need to be concerned. Though the wolves held automatic rifles in their hands, not one of them raised a weapon in their direction.
Warren was there as well and had his hands on his hips. He was a big man, and frightening to look at especially with his lips compressed into a grim line.
Her gaze was drawn to the scarring on the left side of his face and head. While Fergus drew them close, she allowed herself a few seconds to accustom herself to his disfigurement. That way, she’d be more likely to see the man rather than his scars.
He wore a black tank and leathers, the typical uniform of any of the Five Bridges border patrols. His militarized force wore similar clothes but their tanks bore the Caldion Pack emerald green logo patch. She knew that each pack’s force could be identified by their logos and specific colors. Having searched the web several times about Savage, she knew that the Gordion pack wore amber logo patches. If braids were worn, they were also tied up with narrow leather cords in the matching pack color.
Fergus dropped them down to the long, stone front walkway, five feet from Warren. Mary stepped off Fergus’s boot and unwrapped her arm from around his neck.
Warren lowered his chin and inclined his head in Mary’s direction, but didn’t at first make eye-contact with her. Instead, he kept his head bowed for several seconds.
Finally, he stood upright and met her gaze. “Welcome to the Caldion Pack, Mary Somers. We are forever indebted to you for saving our brother’s life.”
Mary knew the packs often spoke formally, especially during an initial greeting. But his words surprised her and at first she didn’t know how to respond. Finally, she said, “And I’ll always feel thankful for the part you and your men played in bringing Fergus to my surgery.”
Warren appeared to sniff the air, his nostrils fluttering. Afterward, he nodded solemnly. Her fae instincts told her he’d just caught Fergus’s marking scent on her. She felt his approval.
He then shifted his attention to Fergus. “We’re more grateful than we can say that you’ve survived.”
