Page 11 of Faith and Fury

“So, you’re okay with me submitting the request?”

“Sure. Just, wait. One more thing.” Suddenly my face feels hot, but I can’t stop myself from asking—“What’s her name? The rogue omega.”

Caleb goes quiet again. There’s an unusual softness in his voice when he answers, “Faith.”

My inner alpha savors the word. Feral or not, it’s not every day we have an omega in the den. He already wants to see her. To scent her. And, instinctively, to take care of her.

“What’s she like?” I ask.

“Well, for starters, she’s non-verbal.”

“I see. That … complicates things. But I’m sure we’ll make it work.”

“Also vicious.”

“Ah.”

“And …” Caleb’s voice becomes strained, “beautiful.”

At this, we hang in silence, our breathing crackling over the line.

Caleb hangs up before I can ask anything else, like he doesn’t trust himself with the answers.

I just stand there in the kitchen.

Willing the silence to calm my pounding heart.

Chapter Eight

Faith

We leave a little before sunset. I’m surprised by how badly my eyes sting—still getting used to honest-to-goodness daylight.

“Shit,” the younger alpha says. Jaxon. His bronze is nearly as long as mine, but he’s tied it back into a half-bun, exposing a single cuff in his ear. “Are you alright?”

I must be tearing up. Damn retinas are on fire.

Jaxon leans in, making me bare my teeth, and he promptly backs off.

He and Caleb guide me to the car. Someone reminds me to strap myself in. I feel like a ghost in my own body, slowly remembering what it was like to exist in the real world.

“Our den is a little south of the city,” Caleb explains from behind the wheel.

“Micah’s making dinner,” Jaxon adds. “Think he’s excited to meet you.”

I scowl. Who the fuck is Micah?

“Sorry. That’s our other packmate—there are three of us altogether.” He grins. “Can you guess who’s head alpha?”

My eyes flick to the driver’s seat. Does he think I’m stupid?

Jaxon laughs. “Bingo. Caleb’s about as head alpha as they come, huh?”

Caleb chuffs. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

They’re joking around, or trying to, but I can sense the underlying tension. Even if the Rogue Defense Force are nothing more than glorified cops, these two aren’t stupid. They know they have to keep their guards up around me.

I try to map the streets as I go. New Caniss isn’t quite what I remember from before my time in the arena. It’s … too big, somehow. And yet choked with people. Cars. Buildings. My senses are on overload.

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