Wild Hunger (The Phoenix Pack, #7)(18)
“Maybe.”
“Then I’d say the decision you have to make isn’t whether you want to give your paternal family a chance; it’s whether you want to live with the regret that you didn’t.” He cupped her chin and stroked her jaw with his thumb. “Take care, Frankie, yeah?” It was a soft demand. He needed to be sure that she’d be fine.
“Always do,” she said. He lightly brushed his mouth over her temple, and then he was gone. Frankie took in a centering breath. Damn, the wolf was potent. Nothing like the guys she was used to—they were strong and self-assured, yeah, but none of them carried that air of supreme, unshakable confidence that came with knowing you could handle any situation with total ease. It was hot and admirable and her wolf absolutely loved it.
The animal wasn’t at all happy that he’d left. She lay down, sulking. It was odd. Her wolf had liked Frankie’s past partners well enough, but not like this. She hadn’t wanted their company, hadn’t particularly enjoyed having them around. Really, it was more like she’d tolerated them for Frankie’s sake.
For the first time, her wolf wanted a male. Strangely, she also wanted to hold back from him a little. Not out of wariness, but to . . . test him. To see what he was made of and if he was worthy of . . . something.
Deciding it was pointless to try to understand it, Frankie turned back to her sculpture.
The following day, Trick accompanied Trey, Dante, and Dominic as they ventured to the local park for their meeting with Nash Morelli. It was a hot day, so there were many people around—sunbathers, cyclists, dog walkers, families, kids playing ball. Trick hoped the meeting didn’t go to shit, because there would be a hell of a lot of witnesses if it did.
Morelli was already sitting at the picnic table when they arrived; five wolves stood behind him, on guard. Without a word Trey sat opposite Morelli. Dante stood solidly behind Trey while Trick and Dominic planted themselves on either side of their Beta. For a moment no one said anything. Just stayed still, sizing one another up.
Morelli was a big bastard. Thick neck, roped arms, thighs like tree trunks. He also had a wide grin that would have been charismatic if it weren’t for its sly curve.
There was a similar grin on his Beta’s face. Drake had a reputation for being . . . well, to be blunt, a fucking asshole. After being kicked out of his previous pack for slitting his sister’s throat, Drake had earned protection and money as a gun for hire until Morelli took him into his sad excuse for a pack.
Taking the cigar from his mouth, Morelli shifted in his seat, making his leather vest creak. “Well, damn, if it isn’t Trey Coleman. I’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time.” He ran his gaze along Dante, Dominic, and Trick. His eyes lit up. “Ah, it’s the YouTube hero. I’ve heard plenty about you. One of my wolves knows you. He says you can be brutal when the situation calls for it. That’s why he found it so damn funny that the humans see you as a hunky hero.”
The wolf was right, but Trick said nothing.
Morelli cut his gaze to Trey. “I always admired the way you challenged your old man. I heard enough to know he was a total prick and earned that beating you gave him. People don’t always get what they deserve. It’s refreshing when someone does.”
Trey didn’t react. Just watched the other Alpha, expression blank. It didn’t seem to discourage Morelli at all. His wide grin remained in place.
“I sure do like your territory,” said Morelli. “I mean, I haven’t been able to see a lot of it, since you have that big fence and all. But it’s vast and well protected. I heard you actually live inside one of the mountains. Is that true?”
“If you’re planning on challenging me to take over my pack and seize my territory, it won’t end well for you,” Trey warned.
Morelli took a pull on his cigar and then blew out a puff of smoke, tainting the collective scents of sun-warmed grass and flowering trees. “I’ll admit, the thought did cross my mind. But like I said, I admire how you dealt with your old man. Leaving the pack to create your own—that takes guts. Let’s face it, it wouldn’t be smart of me to take on a male whose wolf turns feral during battle. Not to mention that you’re very well connected. The Mercury Pack in particular would seek revenge on anyone who brought harm to you or yours. I don’t want them on my ass any more than I want a feral wolf chewing a chunk out of my wolf’s ass.”
“Why did you ask for a meeting?”
“Not real friendly, are you, Trey? Can I call you Trey?”
“No.”
Morelli chuckled, seeming delighted. “Damn, I like you. As for why I wanted this meeting . . . It’s quite simple, really. I’d like to propose an alliance.”
“Would you,” said Trey, his tone even.
“I feel it would benefit us both.”
“Here’s the thing. I don’t like your methods of expanding your pack. I don’t like the rumors I’ve heard about how your Beta here”—Trey tipped his chin at Drake—“deals with people. Your enforcers are constantly causing disruptions at bars and clubs and pool halls. That means either you don’t have control of your pack, or you don’t care what they do. Either way, that’s not the kind of Alpha I want to ally myself with.”
Morelli heaved a sigh. “That’s disappointing, Trey. Really. I’d hoped we could be friends. It’s good to have friends.” He stubbed out his cigar on the table. “It’s true that I don’t police my pack much. But if I wanted a flock of sheep, I’d have bought a farm. We’re shifters, Trey. We have a wildness inside us that humans will never understand. Why should we tone it down and pretend to be what we’re not? Don’t you see that it makes us seem weak to the humans? It’s the same principle as when you’re dealing with a spoiled kid. If you don’t ignore their little outbursts and just carry on as normal, they’ll keep on having them. You can’t show them mercy or give in; if you do, they’ll see you as weak, and they won’t respect you.”