But direction wouldn’t keep him from hearing Isaiah.
He might have still heard him if Isaiah hadn’t had the natural agility that came with being Varu and over a thousand years of practice walking through the forest and not making any sound.
He stopped by the trees. Wind pushed through the branches, rubbing them together, creating enough background noise to drown out whatever Luca and Nash said to each other.
Any moment that man would have Luca under him, rutting like a bull, fucking a Cana, rather than loving him.
Because the Anubis wasn’t capable of love.
Isaiah had failed to convince another Cana of his worth and lost him to the Anubis. At least Nash Kelli was an honorable man. Otherwise, he would have failed in holding back the Anubis the moment the ichor abandoned Koda.
The tarp over the trailer's doorway peeled back, and Nash walked out. There were no particles in his wake, just the empty shadows of night. Even wrapped in flesh and buried in the soul, the Anubis drank the light of the world.
A gust of wind brought the earthy flavor of the dead and Luca’s sweeter scent mixed with arousal, but there was no hint of cum.
For whatever reason, Nash had left Luca untouched, and now he abandoned him and disappeared into the forest.
What about the next time they were together? What if Nash Kelli lost control of the Anubis?
Eventually he would.
Every minute Luca was in Nash’s company, he played Russian Roulette with his life.
The only way to make sure that didn’t happen was to kill the Anubis. And an injection of Rakta would do that. It would purge the ichor from Nash’s body while simultaneously breaking Luca’s heart.
Maybe even his will to live.
Isaiah could keep Luca alive by blood-tying him to the pack.
The cost?
Luca would never trust them. He would never forgive them. He would never love them.
He would only hate them.
And Isaiah would hate himself just as much.
What if there were another way?
Dew-soaked grass clung to the cuff of Isaiah’s jeans as he walked back to the cluster of RVs.
Tanner was one of five betas standing guard at the parameter. All of them monoliths in the night. The white cloud of their exhales the only break in the illusion.
Isaiah went to the motorhome next to his and knocked.
Cassie opened the door.
Deltas sat in groups, sewing, reading, doing puzzles, or asleep together on the cushions they’d piled on the floor.
Isaiah hated how they’d been reduced to living packed into mobile boxes with barely enough room to move. But deltas and omegas preferred the company of each other.
The betas, however, needed space unless sharing bedmates.
A dozen motorhomes for almost a hundred people. The only one with privacy, Isaiah, because his people wouldn’t allow him to go without the last luxury belonging to an Alpha.
Cassie held open the screen door. “Please come in.”
Isaiah held up a hand. “No, I won’t be staying. I just came to see if Jelani was awake.”