River Wolf(95)
“It’s too early for that.” Mumbling, she buried her face in the pillows. Yet, she also reached over and flattened her palm against his chest.
“Five days or five years, it doesn’t matter.” She’d quite stolen his heart and he had zero intention of trying to retrieve it.
“No,” she groaned and lifted her head to glare at him. “It’s too early in the morning. I’m going back to sleep now.” Then with a kiss to his lips, she rolled over and pressed her back to him. Seconds later, a snore drifted from her perfect lips.
Laughter wound through him and he curved an arm around her waist and buried his face to her throat. He’d almost forgotten—she didn’t do mornings.
A couple of hours later, dawn edged the horizon and his phone buzzed. Ignoring it, he let the call go to voice mail. When it buzzed a second time, then chirped, Brett groaned. Rolling over, careful not to wake the beast, he grabbed his phone. A dozen messages waited on the screen. Most were wolves announcing their arrival times. The last two chased away his drowsiness.
A wolf from Sutter Butte had crossed into Hudson River along with two from Three Rivers. They all stated Alpha Challenge. Two separate messages from two different Hunters. The messages were the most recent. His phone rang and Pierce’s name flashed on the screen.
Sitting, he hit answer. “How far out are they?”
“The two from Three Rivers are on the far western edge, they crossed into Pennsylvania about an hour ago. It was only dumb luck Duncan was filling his gas tank at the same time to head in for the gathering. They’ll all probably be in Story Pointe by tonight. The other is in Manhattan. He landed at La Guardia and is in the process of renting a vehicle. He reached out to the Hunters in the city and for directions. I’d expect him by lunchtime.”
“Does he have a name?”
“Sutter Butte—Landon Templeton. From Three Rivers, Mischa Marko…I think that’s right.” Pierce waited a beat. “Mischa is traveling with his mate.”
Son of a bitch. Three Rivers. Russian name. Traveling with his mate. Luciana was Italian. “Did he have an accent?”
“Not sure, want me to find out?”
Normally in an Alpha Challenge all contenders were given free passage direct to an Alpha. They would come, they would fight and one of them would walk away. Sometimes both, if one were willing to yield. Brett didn’t particularly care for fights to the death—only a lunatic would—but he also didn’t like having repeat performances. Marko wasn’t a Russian last name, but the echo to Marco didn’t bode well.
“Brett?” Pierce was still waiting for an answer. Glancing at Colby who’d rolled onto her stomach and sprawled, the sheet draped only over her hips. What he wouldn’t give to be right next to her again.
“Yes. Find out.” Disconnecting the call, he dressed swiftly. Brett had dealt with a Russian incursion once before. Traveling with his mate? Or his Krysha? Russian wolves were not to be trusted. They didn’t respect rules and their coup attempts were always bloody. None of the North American Alphas would have granted a Russian wolf entry without certain blood guarantees.
Except Luciana probably doesn’t know that. One oversight he would need to live to correct. Pausing to stroke her hair, he dipped down and left a kiss on her forehead. If the Sutter Butte challenger didn’t arrive till lunch, Brett still had time for breakfast with Colby when she woke. They had so much to discuss…
After he dealt with Templeton, they’d have some time. He was on the stairs heading for the kitchen and coffee when Pierce called back. “Last name is actually Markov and yes, definitely Russian accents. Really thick ones. Duncan said he had a hard time understanding them.”
“No one is to engage them, have Duncan keep track but stay well back. Alert all Hunters in the area to move any civilians lingering out. I want Markov and his so-called mate to have no reason to stop.” Decades before, a Russian challenger had entered Hudson River crying Alpha Challenge. On his way to meet Brett’s grandfather, he’d paused at a family run restaurant on the edge of Story Pointe and taken offense at something one of the wolves said to him.
To the present day, Brett could recall the remark. The Russian had savaged the wolf in question, then struck at his friends when they attacked. Brett hadn’t known he’d called Alpha Challenge, only that he was killing wolves.
“Yes, Alpha. Are they going to be a problem?” Pierce had been a child when that incident occurred. Chances were he didn’t know about it.
“That’s what I want to avoid. No one else speaks to them. Walk away, avoid, and that’s an order directly from me. They come straight to me.” He’d meet them on the road before they reached Story Pointe proper. “Alert our men at the State Troopers. None but wolves on our patch of state highways tonight.” It was their problem how they managed it.