If any other person spoke to him in such a manner Zohar would already have them by the throat, but Danko was the exception. They were friends, Zohar admitted that Danko was his only friend. The one person he could trust with his life . . . and his secrets.
“Damn it, Danko, I’m not in the mood. I feel like shit.”
Danko pushed passed, shrugging. “So what’s new? You’ve been feeling like this for days now and the old man is starting to ask questions. I’ve put him off by saying you’re gathering intel on a rogue, but he’s not stupid. He knows something isn’t right and he is going to catch on soon enough. So, are you going to listen to me so we can deal with this?”
Zohar closed the door, noisily, before going to grab a beer from the fridge. “Here.” He tossed one to Danko then sat down at the table.
His friend joining him but not drinking. “My friend, it pains me to see you like this. Why won’t you accept what is wrong?”
Ignoring Danko, he drank his beer down, slamming the empty bottle on the table. “And when will you accept that there’s no way in hell that this is what you think? You know the things I’ve done. The atrocities I’ve had to commit for the Council, against our own species. The Goddess would never bless someone such as me with a soulmate. Never. I’ve got a dark soul, Danko. So fucking dark that it doesn’t deserve a mate, couldn’t deal with a mate.”
Zohar stopped, pain lancing through his belly as if someone were cutting him open with a sword made of fire. Danko reached over the table to grab hold of his forearm. “Zohar!”
When the pain subsided Zohar ground his teeth together before glaring at his friend. “The more likely scenario is one of my many enemies using a magic wielder to cast a spell. That’s far more likely than the fairy-tale rubbish in your head.”
“Fine!” Danko threw his hands up angrily. “I can get Sherman to come here and check for anything fucking magical! He’ll soon be able to see if that’s what’s wrong.”
Zohar shook his head. “No time. I just received a call and we have an urgent mission. I was about to call you when you arrived.”
“Really?” Danko tilted his head, his face and tone saying he didn’t believe a word.
“Yes, really.” Zohar stood, his chair scraping back noisily. “Shade Shawcross called in his favor, and from what he told me we don’t have time to waste. It’s about a Pack run by an Alpha we’ve heard of before . . . Jermaine Skinner of the Dark Forest Pack.”
Danko’s face darkened as he snarled, “That fucker’s still an Alpha? I thought he’d be dead by now.”
“Apparently not, and his Pack is worse than ever.” Zohar’s guts burned again but he fought to hide it from his friend. “The women are being treated abominably and it’s time we stepped in. He and his men need to be taken out and I’m just in the mood to deal with him.”
Danko agreed, his body thrumming with anger. “Me too. I’ll go and get a team ready.”
“I’ll be there in an hour.” Zohar had something to do before he could go anywhere: hunt.
“Fine.” Danko squinted at him. “Are you sure we shouldn’t let Sherman see you first?”
“If this hasn’t gone by the time we get back, I promise, I’ll go and see him.” Zohar lied easily again. “For now, let’s just deal with this asshole and liberate the She-Wolves that are being treated like slaves.”
“Sure,” Danko replied, although the look on his face and the tone of his voice relayed his disbelief of Zohar’s promise.
Hell, Zohar didn’t give a damn. Not right now. All he cared about was getting his friend to leave so he could sneak away for a quick foray into the forest surrounding his cabin. If he managed to catch some prey quickly then he’d be on his way to the Council Headquarters in no time and nobody would be any the wiser.
Danko’s eyes bored into him one last time before he shook his head and left. His friend knew exactly what Zohar had planned but at least he didn’t call him on it and avoided a confrontation that would have ended badly for them both. For now, all Zohar had to do was get through this mission and then he could deal with the fucker who’d inflicted this magical illness on him.
When he found out who was responsible, he vowed to make him pay and Zohar’s payment would be harsh, brutal, and downright deadly.
Zohar waited until he heard Danko’s vehicle start up and pull away from where it was parked on the road several hundred yards from his home, before leaving his cabin. He’d already stripped in readiness for his transformation, doing so with his usual exceptional swiftness.
Zohar’s Wolf was huge, larger than most other Shifters’, and so dark that it was almost black with eyes to match: perfect for night hunting. His size didn’t detract from his stealth, when required, but for now all he wanted to do was run free. His beast taking off with great strides to disappear into the depths of the dark forest that most would avoid for fear of coming face to face with the predators that roamed free within.
Not so for Zohar, or his beast. He welcomed the danger, the battle, if it came to that, but for now he needed to expend some of the pent-up energy burning inside him. Then he’d look for prey . . . or battle.
Whichever came first, and either would do just fine with him.
He sped through the forest until the delectable aroma of a deer caught his attention, veering right, his Wolf tore after the animal. One thought tearing through his mind: feed the hunger.
Zohar’s beast caught up to his startled prey in no time, not bothering with silence to sneak up
