The look she gave Storme was one filled with pain. No one knew for certain the information Storme carried, but Rachel was desperate to find a way to help her daughter before any problems arose.
Jonas said nothing. He stared back at Storme with silver-eyed contempt before turning and leaving the cabin behind Wolfe and Hope. Navarro followed, but not before he glared back at Storme in disgust. "Your father once told me you had the heart of the Lion, the courage of the Wolf, and the logic of the Coyote. Tell me, Storme, how did you manage to fool him into believing you could actually be trusted to know whom to give that information to?"
She flinched as the Wolf stepped out and closed the door softly behind him. For a moment, the room was filled with such agonizing indecision that it had a scent all its own.
"Well, if I had known it was that easy to get rid of them, I would have insulted them sooner." She jerked out of his grip before turning and facing him, the false bravado in her voice and in her expression painful to witness. "Are we doing breakfast or arguing the rest of the morning?" A slender black brow arched mockingly. "Personally, I think I prefer food."
Personally, he preferred doing her and showing her once and for all who dominated here and who would follow the orders. The Wolf inside him was pacing, snarling, demanding he do something to show her, to prove to her, that the contempt that poured out of her for him and his people would not be tolerated. Despite the pain and the indecision he knew she was fighting at the moment, no matter her fear or her battle to accept her present situation, he couldn't allow the disrespect to continue.
It wouldn't be tolerated and it wouldn't be allowed.
"I can make your stay here easy." He gave her a relaxed, confident smile. "Or I can show you how we treat those who want to consider themselves prisoners. Take your pick, Sugar, before I make the choice for you."
CHAPTER 7
Hope Bainesmith Gunnar.
Storme remembered the young woman who had befriended her more than ten years before. Storme had been ten, Hope was now thirty years old. She didn't look thirty.
She looked no different now than she had looked when she had been at the Omega compound and watched the Wolf Breeds as though searching for a familiar face, or a way to escape.
Or perhaps even both.
Storme remembered the day the news reports hit of the Wolf Breeds being granted the land in Colorado in recompense for America's part in funding the Genetics Council. She hadn't heard of the Wolf Breed alpha before then, but when a picture had flashed of Wolfe Gunnar and his new bride, the daughter of a Council scientist, Storme had felt her stomach clench in despair and fear for the young woman she had once looked up to.
Over the years, she had feared for Hope, worried for her, terrified she was locked in a marriage she couldn't have possibly wanted.
Yet the Hope she had seen when she arrived at Haven three days before wasn't a woman stuck in a relationship she didn't want. The woman she watched in the huge courtyard that was the center of the block of homes wasn't a woman unhappy with her life or with her husband.
Hope Bainesmith Gunnar was a woman well content with the life and the creature she seemed to love.
Standing at the back door now as dusk moved slowly over the mountain, arms crossed, a frown on her face, she watched as Hope played with an infant from the home next door.
The child belonged to Aiden and Charity Chance. Aiden was head of security at Haven if she remembered correctly. The two-story cabin to the right of the Gunnars' was the Chance home. There was nothing ostentatious or elite about the home, despite the hierarchical place the Chances held within the pack at Haven.
Like the Gunnar home, and the home belonging to Jacob and Faith Arlington to the left of it, it was two stories, a log cabin-style home that blended well with the trees that grew both in front of it and within the courtyard behind it.
Lights hung from the trees to create soft, effective lighting in the central yard.
Each of the twenty or so homes was built far enough apart for privacy inside, but opened into the central design to allow for full socialization.
Wolves were far more social than the Felines, she had heard; in that case, it seemed that propaganda in favor of the Breeds was true.
Now, as the lights brightened the area between Styx's home and those across from it, she watched as those who lived within this centralized grouping came together.
Wolfe and Hope had come out first, followed by the Chances and the Arlingtons.
Charity Chance had walked beside her tall, dark husband, Aiden, as he carried their infant snuggly against his broad chest. They had joined Hope and Wolfe in one of the gathering spots outfitted with comfortable outdoor furnishings, a fire pit and grill and an attractive overhead covering that blended with the branches of the trees above in case of rain.
Jacob and Faith Arlington had followed. They carried food. Jacob with his dark coloring and the light auburn highlights to his hair had once been a part of several teams of Breeds sent out to locate hidden Council labs. He had been instrumental in locating and rescuing the rare, mysterious winged Breeds. His wife, Faith, liaison to the various packs and prides that were still spread out over the world, most in hiding, was tall and sleek, her long dark hair falling beneath her shoulders.
She stood next to her husband at the grill, laughing, seeming to bask in what appeared to be the pure adoration that filled her husband's face.
The three Breeds stared at their wives as though there was nothing on the Earth that could compare to them.
How could that be true? It was a far different picture than those of blood and atrocities practiced within the Breed communities, pictures that the pure blood societies circulated.
As food went on the grill, others began to arrive, until the area soon held more than two dozen Breeds and a few humans. There were a few American soldiers and technical support people who worked within Haven. But it was the Breeds she watched.