Desert Wolf by Heather Long Read Free Book Online Page B

body. Bruising would come later, though her jaw disputed her assertion. The healer worked on Faust, though he and the healer both protested Sovvan’s order—she suffered more injuries, and it was her Hound’s right to protect her first.
    Cassius settled it with a snarl. “Just fucking heal him, and stop wasting your breath on an argument. Then heal her.”
    What an unruly beast of a man. Raw violence seethed in the air around him, and he’d been methodical in his attacks, no matter how wild the battle. Once he settled them with Bianca, he walked the other wolf away. Watching him from her one good eye, she scented the distress before the low sound of grief reached her. Jose—at least she thought his name was Jose—bent at the waist, shuddering from the news Cassius imparted. At total odds with the callous demeanor, the Alpha placed a hand on the other man’s shoulder. Sharing his grief? Comforting him? They said nothing, their silence more impenetrable than steel.
    “He is a good man,” Bianca said as she joined her at the open hatch of the SUV’s rear. Like Cassius, she wore rough clothing—a combo of denim and leather—she didn’t look like any of their healers. Her dark hair pulled away from her face into a pony tail revealed a tattoo on her neck just behind her left ear. The dim light offered her glimpse of only black lines in swirls and loops, yet it looked like a… “It is a medicine hand. It tells everyone I am a healer and therefore untouchable. To harm a healer in Sutter Butte is to invite the wrath of every able-bodied wolf.”
    To harm any healer should invite such a punishment, but Sovvan said nothing. The other woman hadn’t touched her or made any move in that direction. “I didn’t think Sutter Butte had mercy for anyone.”
    “Mercy is for the weak.” To hear such words from a healer left Sovvan’s heart aching. Healers were the kind centers of any pack. Their calm enhanced the feelings of safety and nurturing… “What? You thought I’d be some gooey centered piece of cotton candy like you can afford back east? No, this is a brutal world and we are realists. Strength rules and always has. My Alpha is a good man and a powerful one. If he weren’t, he would not be able to enforce the law and you would be dead.”
    Definitely not feeling the comfort. “So you what? Patch up those who survive battle to send them back out to fight again?” To what end? How could they really have a life that way?
    “I do what I was born to do. I care for the strong.” Tilting her head, the woman studied her. Did she find fault with her? What flaws must a healer bury to have become such a hardened soul? “You are not what I expected.”
    “Ditto, cher . Ditto.” Not for the first time, Sovvan questioned her wisdom in coming to answer the Sutter Butte’s request. Serafina hadn’t ordered her to remain home, in fact, she’d very carefully avoided giving any orders at all. Her Alpha insisted Sovvan choose. They owed nothing to Sutter Butte, coming paid no debts, settled no scores and evened no odds. How had she phrased it…?
    “He is asking you for an act of altruism that he neither deserves nor has earned. He makes no promises, and offers no reparations or rewards for you risking your life to assist him.”
    “But it’s not just him, is it?” The question haunted her and ultimately motivated her choice. An Alpha was one person, the center of their pack, the head and the leader—its vital, beating heart, but still only one person. An Omega mirrored an Alpha, but it also acted as the repository for every weakness in a pack. They identified them and, in some ways, helped them to confront those weaknesses. In a strong pack, an Omega could cope with the issues one at a time.
    “Don’t.” Sovvan raised her hand. The healer’s nearness alone provided her with too many issues. Touching increased the complications a hundredfold, especially with Faust’s temper riding her. The Hound’s fury had