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3. Storm Clouds

It didn’t take a healer to know that sex was a coping mechanism for grief and anger—and those emotions’ bastard offspring, resentment.

Sona couldn’t help her pants and moans as Conri entered her in time with his thrusts, harder, faster. If it would make him feel better, good, with the added bonus of her being physically satisfied. Emotionally, mentally…that was next to fulfill.

Her claws were beginning to drag up his muscled back. His teeth and tongue were tasting her ear lobe, nibbling the small gold hoop with its circular charm representing the sun, the symbol for Goldwater. His breath sent gooseflesh down every inch of her skin. With each jolt of her body on the desk, she gasped his name, each slam of his cock inside her she was sent closer to the edge of a cliff, which she would surely tip off—

Suddenly Conri froze, hand leaving her breast to cover her mouth. “Shh.”

Annoyed, she went to bite his finger, but then she heard what he did: footsteps.

And then a knock on the door. “No, go on,” called the voice on the other side, “don’t mind me while you finish.”

Well, if this isn’t awkward.

Conri drew back, silently removing himself from her even though they were so close. Sona opened her mouth to whisper—something. She forgot the moment she saw the look on his face.

Quick as lightning, but leaving a lasting impression: disgust.

He turned away before Sona could analyze it, because when he handed her her dress, it was gone, replaced by exasperation. “Apologies, Alpha,” he boomed. Sona snatched it and shimmied back into the fabric as Conri slicked back his hair and answered the door.

Alpha Artem Roshan was decked in green and silver jewelry, and though Sona was very fond of him, he sometimes acted less like a wolf pack leader and more parading peacock showing off his wealth. He was the original copy of his son if a bit more worn from the decades of heading the largest werewolf territory.

For all his show, Artem was admirable and easygoing, and his green eyes were mischievous when Sona joined Conri in the doorway. “Apology is mine, Gamma. Mistress Sona,” he chuckled. “How could I interrupt lovemaking between mates?”

“What do you need?” Conri asked. His raspy voice was controlled, but only Sona could recognize its impatience. And there was more than just being interrupted so close to completion.

Artem’s smile faded with a sigh. “Word is floating that Redbone will send another group of feelers. I need you to join me in making an announcement in the square.”

Conri stiffened. His teeth ground together and his heart pounded. Sona automatically grabbed his hand into hers to anchor him to sense, running her hand up and down his back. What was this anger? she wondered grimly. Who the hell is it directed at?

Artem either noticed and didn’t show it or was completely oblivious.

Conri cleared his throat. “Yes, Alpha. Is that all we are doing to assure our packmates?”

“Well of course.”

“Tell them that a potential invasion is building from these skirmishes?” Conri asked calmly.

Artem was a competent and beloved leader. It wasn’t often throughout werewolf history that Alphas were, preferring power and chaos over peace. Sometimes this was misconstrued for pacifism and laxness.

Sona’s hand stopped on her mate’s lower back and poised her still-sharpened nails over the skin. A muscle feathered in his jaw; he didn’t look at her, but he understood the subtle warning to behave.

“It won’t come to that,” Artem said firmly. “You and I will not allow something like that to happen. I’ve spoken with Taos multiple times—”

“With all respect,” interrupted Conri, earning harder pressure from Sona’s claws but ignoring the pain, “Alpha, words don’t protect our borders. Actions do. What if—”

“Moonvalley is not a warrior pack. We do not fight fire with fire—”

“But Leto, Artem.”

Sona’s claws retracted. Artem sighed and thinned his lips in sympathy. Just that word made Conri’s voice break, and in turn, send a wave of sorrow through them all.* This is why I came*, thought Sona, resting her hand on his cheek to turn his face toward her, but he resisted. To comfort a grieving mind.

A grieving mind that could make such hate darken the face of her mate behind his adopted father’s back.

She dropped her hand.

“I know, pup. That wound will never heal in any of us. But my stance is unmovable in this regard. I will allow you to step up Epsilon training but I will not let Taos Redbone or any beast in his pack see any kind of growing force that would imply a return attack.”

“But—”

“That is enough, Conri,” Artem growled. “Get into your uniform and meet me in the foyer as soon as you’re ready. Mistress Sona.”

She dipped her head. “Alpha.”

“Our new top healer,” he beamed, seriousness immediately banished, “how are you fairing? How is your grandfather?”

Sona never liked smalltalk. She’d rather talk strategy. “Well and well. How are Arden and Amaris?”

She ignored Conri’s teeth grating harder.

“Well and well. Stay with the Luna while we venture out?”

Sona adored Arden’s mother, but if such an important announcement was going to be made, she’d rather be with her grandfather. “Thank you, Alpha, but—”

Until Conri grumbled, “Raff is with her.”

“Of course,” she amended quickly, holding back a sharp remark for her mate.

“Excellent.” Artem clapped his hands once. “Let’s get going. See you both soon.”

When he left, Sona caught the door before Conri could slam it shut. He stormed across the room to the windows that overlooked Valleytown. His shoulders heaved with breath.

“Tough love,” barked Sona, marching over and blocking his view—as much as she could with her lacking height. “Tell me what the fuck all that was about.”

Conri moved to the wardrobe. “My own weight to bear, Sona. Stay out of it.”

She blocked his way. “Not when you pass off our son so you can brood in your office.”

“She’s as good as his grandmother, it’s fine.”

“I know that. But you’ve barely been spending time with him. I trust you, Conri, and—”

His eyes narrowed a little. “Why does that sound contradictory?”

Sona stepped away. Wordlessly Conri grabbed his fine Gamma’s uniform jacket and shrugged into the sharp green and white sleeves. “I don’t want to fight with you, my love. Why are you angry?”

“I’m angry at you.”

“Why?”

She followed him out of the office. “You’re…different lately—every year, you’re different than who you used to be when we were pups.”

“Exactly,” he said, checking his reflection in one of the mirrors. Sona still had to resist the urge to ruffle his hair back into place. “We all grew up. We’re not so naive anymore. We know how fucked up our world really is.”

“And we deal with it accordingly,” Sona warned. “Not recklessly.”

Conri shot a look at her. “What have I done to imply impulsiveness?” he demanded.

Her lips thinned. “Constantly talking about revenge on your downtime.”

“When have I ever uttered that word?”

“You don’t need to. Conri,” she sighed, “getting back at Redbone won’t bring—”

His hulking body whirled on her, making her stagger back. “Don’t say it!” he barked. “That’s not what I’m after. I’m not after revenge or even justice. I just want to protect our home. Our family.”

Finally the truth. Without a doubt Sona knew that really was all that Conri wanted. As simple as a father and son love- and duty-bound to shield who he cared about.

But that did not excuse his behavior.

Sona exhaled deeply and rested her hand on his stubbled cheek. His shoulders eased of tension and he closed his eyes with a sigh of his own. “That’s what I want too. That’s why I’m a healer. But I don’t want to be patching up battle wounds.”

Conri leaned against the wall, dropping his head back to look at the ceilings painted with murals of skies and valleys and rivers. “You can’t understand, Sona. Your life…it’s been perfect.”

Sona wasn’t going to make this a contest of who was more miserable. “If you’re saying that I haven’t experienced death the way you have,” she told him gently, coming close to rest her hand over his heart and tilt her chin up to see him, “then yes. But I have experienced death more often. And I’ve learned to…not get used to it, but something like it. Accept that it happened, that it’s hard, and then…accept it again before it’s too late to realize how much it’s consumed your life.”

Conri’s eyes searched her face for what felt like forever. They were no longer a threatening storm, but a passing one, for at last they softened. He bent at the waist to kiss her sweet and lingering. “Forgive me, my love?”

Sona let him because it was time to end the argument. As much as she wanted to keep hounding him for more truths, her heart couldn’t handle the effort of bottling up too much negative emotion. This was a hard time; she wouldn’t make it worse, even if she only wanted to make it better.

She smirked. “All is forgiven if…”

Conri straightened slowly. “If?” he repeated warily.

“If you make dinner tonight for our family.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “I thought you were going to ask me to hunt for herbs.”

“I can still do that,” she beamed.

“Dinner works just as well.” He slipped his hand into hers and they continued down the hall.

And just when Sona felt she had no reason to frown, Vallea turned the corner, her own frown exceptional.

“Mistress Sona,” she mumbled, following the code of respect for esteemed pack members; even if they were both Omega class, Sona’s position as a recognized healer employed by the Alpha family granted her the formal title.

But her greeting to the Gamma was spoken with simpering warmth and informality. “Hello, Conri.”

He dipped his head to her dismissively without meeting her eyes. “Hi, Vallea. Fine day, isn’t it?”

The attendant’s gaze flicked up and down his body. “No doubt a beautiful night, too.”

Sona was not a jealous female; she didn’t have to be, sure in the security of her mating bond with Conri. But something did not sit right with Vallea.

His hand tightened on Sona’s, tugging her around the corner to the foyer.

“That was—” Weird, she was going to say, but then she saw the Luna Amaris sitting on the steps with Raff in her lap. “My baby,” she gasped.

Conri released her so she could rush down to pick Raff up and set him on her hip, planting enough kisses on his chubby face to make him shriek with laughter and yank on her blonde braid.

“He’s just the sweetest thing,” Amaris said, standing. “Conri.”

Her adopted son rested his forehead to hers briefly. “Mother,” he greeted in a low voice.

Sona hid her smile against her three-year-old’s cheek, nuzzling his tiny nose. As large and gruff as Conri Grayhide could be, as much as he could love Sona and Raff, there was no quantifying how much he cared for Amaris Roshan. She saved him herself from the burning streets, raised him with love and treated him as her own.

She turned the smile to Amaris. “Thank you for taking care of him, Luna.”

The Alpha’s mate was still one of the most beautiful females Sona had ever met, with her unusually delicate features, green eyes enhanced by sweeping lines of kohl, her white hair waist-length and woven with green silk ribbons. She carried herself with such poise it was impossible not to stop in your tracks to be awestruck by her presence.

“I insisted!” Then she lowered her voice with a small smile, “Conri seemed so overwhelmed that I offered to look after the pup. Since my Arden seems intent on spiting me out of grand-pups,” she sighed.

Guilt shoved her like a physical touch. She turned to apologize to Conri, but instead of her mate near the top of the stairs…it was Arden.

He was already looking at her with the same expression as he’d shown since they were those young misfits: longing, maybe envy, maybe even sorrow.

But when she smiled softly at him, he cleared his throat and tsked at his mother. “Odd timing you say that, Mother.”

She shrugged elegantly. “Not odd at all.” When he reached their step, she jabbed a finger at his chest. “Give me a pup or two to spoil. I can’t hog this one forever.”

“Ama,” Raff giggled. “Ar!”

Ardan chuckled and ruffled Raff’s head topped with tufts of dark blonde hair, almost a perfect in-between of Sona’s rich gold and Conri’s silken brown. He’d inherited his father’s eyes, though. “Uncle Ar loves to see you, little one.”

Amaris descended the stairs, her green shirt and pants flowy and elegant as her. Arden and Sona followed.

She nudged his arm with her free elbow. “Been avoiding me, have you?”

“Never,” he smirked. “Just the overwhelming herb scents sunk into your very skin.”

She laughed. “I didn’t know lavender was such a repellant for you.” To Amaris she reminded herself, “Luna, I brought your jasmine tea. It’s in Conri’s office.”

“I thought that was mine,” he called from the center of the foyer.

“You forfeited it when you—”

“Never mind!”

Amaris thankfully spoke up quickly, touching her temple. “Thank you, healer. My head has been hurting more than usual. I’ll have Vallea fetch it later.”

Sona’s brow furrowed. She opened her mouth to suggest she visit Auryn’s shop, but Artem shouted from the front doors, “Time to go!”

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