Page 5 of Siren's Kiss & Feral Beasts
Lightning crashes just off the coast, lighting up the black sky a second before the first drop of rain falls on my forehead. This storm’s been brewing all evening off the horizon with its dark clouds and flashes of light—the loud clap of thunder intertwining with the chants of my wolves.
Because they don’t like intruders, and that’s what this lone shifter is.
A grifter with no loyalty or bonds, two things wolves need.
Pack is family. Pack is sacred.
“Name your terms, rogue,” I growl, baring my teeth at the smaller man who dared to step into the circle with me. Although, I’ll give him credit for not tucking his tail. Most do when in my presence. “What do you want?”
“You, my king.” His voice isn’t loud, but it carries, and I tilt my head to the side. Take note of his subtle, yet defiant sneer. “I’m here to challenge you for the title of alpha of all alphas.”
His declaration is met with anger. Exiled wolves are not to be trusted, and with good reason; this one carries the stench of betrayal. Hunger for power.
But more than that, he’s brought with him three other wolves…
The rogue’s eyes shift from side to side, looking for something, and he exhales roughly when two males and a small female come into view. They’re scared as they walk closer to the circle; I can smell the fear coming from all three, but they don’t run away. Instead, they quietly huddle closer and pull a small spray bottle from the woman’s bag.
I’m not the only one who notices, as my beta and gamma scent the air. Not that they find anything, and there’s only one way for a shifter—rogue or pack—to hide their presence:
Scent blockers.
Not a new concept. It’s a tactic used in battle when trying to surprise an opponent, but to use it here is the definition of stupid. Or maybe cocky. However, the better question is…
How the fuck did they get past the guards on patrol?
My beta, Veris, moves closer while my gamma, Torren, takes his position directly to the left of me. Both are in my line of sight. Both are poised to attack, but I give a minute shake of my head.
The male intruders don’t catch the directive, but the woman does, and her mouth opens. No words come out. She’s frozen, drops the bottle, but the man to her right catches it, muttering under his breath about herfucking shit up.
He’s wrong. That would be them.
Keep an eye on them. No harm to the woman.
The mindlink message is sent to both Veris and Torren. In return, I get a quick:Yes, Alpha.
Don’t trust them. Scared wolves don’t challenge alphas,Torren adds a moment later, while Veris flashes his canines at the trio. They whimper, the noise setting off multiple snarls across the beach.
Looking back at the challenger, I raise a brow. “Name.”
He swallows hard, hand clenching around the blade he’s trying to conceal. “Spiro.”
“Spiro, what?”
“No last name. I’ve renounced it.”
“Last. Name,” I ask from behind clenching teeth. “I won’t ask again.”
“Marros. Spiro Marros.”
He wasn’t lying. The name Marros originated in the south, in Mar De Juramentos Rotos orSea of Broken Oaths, and they’re all watchers. Long line of them; they live and maintain lighthouses or towers on high elevations near the shore to help guide fleets home or warn of incoming storms. Respectable, thejob comes with good pay and trust from the pack, but from the disdain on his face, it’s not enough for him.
My eyes shift toward the elder leader, and his brows are furrowed. “Is he lying?”
Confusion is clear on his face, but the elder commander nods. “It’s true, Alpha. Marros’s son was exiled…” he pauses, and I wave a hand for him to carry on “…but this man looks nothing like his father or his offspring.”
“I am him, not that it matters?—”
“It doesn’t.” Both look at me, but my focus is on Spiro. “The challenge stands.”
