18

Zion approached his father with a smirk on his face. "What do you think?"

"I think you should have warned me," Victor narrowed his eyes on his son, his arms folded as he leaned back on his desk.

Zion's steps faltered. "She can handle a joke. Apparently, she loves to prank her pack members, and told me about this time when she froze peaches—"

"That isn't what I called you here to talk about," Victor suddenly interrupted, holding up a hand and silencing Zion.

"I thought you'd be happy?" Zion asked after a tense moment of silence. "You're always going on about me finding someone to care for."

"So I am. But have you ever thought that she, an Alpha, might do more harm than good?" he jabbed a finger in the direction Savannah was, beyond the heavy closed doors where she wouldn't hear their conversation.

"I understand the risks. We're rogues, and she has every natural tendency to exploit us for her own purposes, if not kill us outright."

"And she hasn't?"

"No. She's told me at every turn that she wants us to work out, and come to a compromise of beliefs."

"Beliefs? We're not talking religions here, son."

"It feels like it sometimes."

"We're lone wolves. We don't fit in a pack. They threw us out as soon as we didn't agree with their ideals and strict regimes. What if she plays you, goes along for a while and lets you have your freedom, before reeling you in with a seductive smile and honeyed words? Can you afford to lose everything you've worked for?"

"She isn't like that, Dad," Zion replied hotly, suddenly wondering why he felt such a strong urge to defend Savannah. Protecting her life from his murderous enemies was one thing, but standing up for her against someone on his side was strange.

"How do you know?" Victor pinned him with a relentless gaze, his blue eyes darkening to sapphire as he tried reading his son's wistful expressions.

"She's different. I can feel it. Most Alphas would have killed me on sight, and she nearly did. But the mate bond means something to her. She's willing to give me a chance."

"Very well. Don't blow it," his father stated flatly.

"Yes, sir."

"Now, onto pressing matters. Did you retrieve the key?"

"Yes, it was exactly where you thought it would be. It seems Darek played his part well. That leech Persia didn't even realise it slipped right under her nose."

"As expected. You never can trust a Vinn. Remember that, son."

Zion's eyebrows rose in question, but before he could ask what he meant, Victor continued. "Do you know this man?"

Zion squinted at the grainy image his father pulled up on his computer screen. "He looks familiar, but I can't say I recognise him."

"The boss of the Hell's Saints. He goes by the moniker 'Lucifer'. We've been tracking him across the continent, mostly via cellular networks and bank statements for the aliases we know of. But when he left the country, we had to rely on satellite images. This image was taken from over the Catalya Islands at Port Quarie. A few days later, what shows up for auction on the dark web?"

"The Lava Mount ruby?" Zion felt his chest constrict at the thought that the prized gem could once more be in their reach.

"Not quite. But this stone, dubbed the 'bloodstone'." Victor pulled up another image of a gleaming red ruby nestled in black velvet.

"That's got to be it."

"Or a part of it. These things are easier to pass along if they don't match known records of precious stones. In the wrong hands, it would likely be carved up into smaller pieces that are now easier to sell. We won't know if it's the whole stone until we get our hands on it," Victor replied, his voice roughed by a low growl.

"But then it loses its value. There are many smaller gems already out there. The Lava Mount ruby—"

"Was one of a kind, I know." Victor dragged a hand down his face wearily.

"I can be on the next plane to Catalya. Send me the coordinates of Lucifer's last known whereabouts."

"No need to, son. I have men on the ground over there already."

"Then why tell me all this if you don't want me to investigate? This is it. This is my mission."

"Maybe so, but it's not your only mission. Don't lose sight of the real objective here."

"Which is?" Zion raked an impatient hand through his hair.

"Your mate."

Zion blinked, unsure he heard correctly. "You called me here to talk about Savannah? But you hadn't even met her until just now."

"I heard on the grape vine that you abducted a pack wolf and were holding her hostage. Then word filtered in she hadn't tried to run. Didn't take me much to figure out why," Victor pinned him with a conspiratorial look.

"Okay, so she's my mate. So what?"

"What do you plan on doing about it?" Victor crossed his arms and gave his son an imposing stare.

"I don't see how this is your business—"

"Are you messing with me, son?" The older rogue got up close in his son's face and glared at him.

Nothing usually intimidated the young yet dominant rogue, but his father still had the ability to make him feel small and contrite. "I'm sorry. I just mean, we're still working on things. We haven't formally accepted each other, if that's what you want to know. Heck, she's an upright, law-abiding Alpha, and I'm her number one enemy! Did you expect us to have set up house and be expecting pups already?"

"Don't be smart with me, Zion!" his dad growled, making him press his lips shut. "All I want to say is, don't mess this up. Savannah may mean more to you than you realise."

"Oh, right. I get it. She's finally someone who will straighten me out and steer me onto the right track, is that what you mean? I need her good influence in my life, and you've been praying for someone like her ever since Leila's death."

Victor's jaw twitched, his eyes narrowing on his son and putting him in his place. After a long pause, he said evenly, "Let me tell you a story."

"Dad, I don't have time for this!" Zion turned on his heels and released a heavy sigh.

"You'll want to hear what I have to say, considering it concerns your mother."

Zion spun back, his eyes wide and his heart rate spiking. "My mother? What about her?"

"She was an Alpha, just like Savannah."

"An Alpha?" His voice was thready, gruff and lower in pitch. It took many moments before his lips worked again, his throat not cooperating with his brain to form a logical sentence. A glib reply was the only thing that would come out while his mind still processed the shocking revelation. "Okay, so what? You hooked up with an Alpha. I get it; they're smart, attractive, and annoying as hell. But what's that got to do with me and Vannah?"

Victor shrugged loosely. "Perhaps nothing. Maybe everything."

Zion sighed through his nose, gathering his last reserves of patience, and shot a questioning look at his father.

"Not only was your mother an Alpha," Victor sat on the edge of his desk and stared at a spot on the wall, his eyes taking on a distant look, "But she was also my mate."

_______

Savannah clawed for the light above her and gulped down air as soon as her mouth broke the water's surface. Vowing to strangle her mate the next chance she got, she climbed out of the small pool of water and stood dripping, panting, and clenching her fists while she seethed with rage.

"Look what the prodigal wolf dragged in this time." A man dressed in black coveralls approached, and Savannah bristled in response.

"Looks yummy," another man came at her from the left, while two more appeared on the right.

"I'm not food. And I'm certainly not to be messed with," Savannah growled, instantly sensing these mongrels were not only wolves, but ill-bred rogues who smelt like motor oil and strong chemical paint.

The first one laughed, before sticking out a hand.

She stared at it, not understanding, until he nodded his head at her clothes. "Let me take your jacket. You must be freezing. That water is meant for cooling engine crankshafts, not drowning last night's leftovers. Though, Zion always did have his own obtuse way of doing things." The man scratched his scraggly beard thoughtfully while eyeing her up and down.

The others laughed, and Savannah felt her face heat up at their insinuation. She tried not to squirm under their oily scrutiny. "I'm not his play thing, if that's what you're thinking. I'm Zion's mate. And I demand you tell me what's going on. Where am I, and who is Victor Forrester to you?"

Their eyebrows rose on the mention of the word 'mate', a reaction she'd come to expect, and the first man found his voice eventually. "I'm Rivet, the plant supervisor. This here is Grinder, our floor manager. Spanner is the production engineer and Bolt over here is our quality control officer. Don't ask our real names."

"Yeah, then we'd have to kill you."

"And Nuts over there just mopped the floor. He'd hate to have to do it again."

Savannah shivered and swiped at the water running into her eyes from her hair. "Noted. And Victor?"

"The boss. He oversees the plant. We produce rare engine parts for classic cars. Ship them all over the continent, though our biggest buyers come from Catalya," Spanner supplied the information at her questioning look. He wore a hardhat and safety glasses, the lenses tinted so dark she saw only her own reflection in them.

Savannah looked around her in surprise. She hadn't expected such a domestic business to be operating in here, but had supposed some black market production was going on under shady lights and dim exteriors. This factory floor looked bright, clean, and would easily pass inspection by council authorities. The rogue Victor seemed to know how to function well despite his lone wolf status.

"How long have you been working for Victor?"

"It's strange hearing you call him that. We all know him as the Captain, and calling him anything less will earn you something you never dreamed of receiving," Bolt spoke through terse lips, as if he'd already said too much.

"Such as?" Curious, Savannah lifted her eyebrows in question.

Bolt pulled both hands from his pockets and held them high. He was missing multiple fingers.

"I thought Zion was joking..." Savannah breathed, her face screwing up in sympathetic pain.

"And I bet you wondered why Spanner's got shades?" Rivet jerked his thumb toward the engineer.

"Sensitive eyes?" The young Alpha hoped that was all it was.

"If only," Spanner shook his head with a wry grin. He didn't act blind, but a wolf could certainly utilise their other keen senses and compensate for the loss. "Here, you can wear my jacket. It will fit you the best," he shrugged out of his wool-lined jacket and held it out for her.

Hesitantly, Savannah peeled off her own soaked coat and let it hang on the chair Rivet pulled up for her. Then Spanner, despite his blindness, wrapped her in his warm jacket without missing a beat.

"Thanks," she murmured, wondering at their kindness. "What other atrocious ways has the Captain maimed you?" she then dared to ask once her teeth stopped chattering. She'd lost count of the number of times she ended up dripping wet and shivering due to her mate's crazy antics.

Rivet looked across the factory floor to a man working with a noisy machine. His head was bent over a bench littered with metallic parts, and when Rivet tapped his feet in a funny little rhythm, he looked up and waved. "Laser has no ears. He picks up the vibrations and we've worked out our own coded messages. And Nuts over there," Rivet whistled loudly over the machine noise and got the attention of a nearby worker. "Tell this young gal how the cat got your tongue!" he hollered.

Nuts raised his hands and gave a wave, then moved them in a succession of signals. She'd read about sign language, but watching the man communicate fluidly with just his hands was fascinating.

"He says hello, you're cute as hell, and much nicer to look at than the girl from last week," Bolt interpreted.

"What girl?!" Savannah's eyes widened as a flood of jealousy rushed through her veins. If Zion had made it a habit to pick up girls and dump them here for his dad to clean up, she would give him a piece of her mind later. So much for saving himself...

"Now it's your turn? Who are you, where you from, and what brings you to our humble abode?" Rivet returned a steely expression on her.

"You haven't told me about yourself yet," she raised an eyebrow at him. "I doubt you've been left unscathed by the Captain."

Rivet shared an amused glance with the others, who pressed their lips together in stifled amusement. "Let's just say," he shifted nervously on his feet. "My battle scars aren't polite to discuss in female company."

"Why not- oh... Oh!" She watched the way the others grinned while pointedly looking at Rivet's crotch, and he just glared back with a sheepish expression. "That's horrible! Why do you let the Captain get away with it? He can't treat you like this." She nearly stamped her foot in indignation. Though these men were hardened rogues, most likely criminals of the worst kind, her righteous heart couldn't stand the scars of mistreatment on their bodies.

"We deserved it, honestly," Spanner shrugged, no hint of malice in his expression.

"The Captain deserves respect, and we eventually learnt to give him that. He's earned it," Bolt added. "We've all been in dark places, and he helped us out of our personal hells. His ways may be rough, but how else do you get through to numbskulls like us?"

Savannah looked from one to the other, at their roughened skin inked with innumerable tattoos, etched with scars, and didn't even want to begin pondering the crimes they'd committed. Each one was a blatant rogue, yet they seemed to get along alright and speak of the captain highly. Unlike the wild animals she'd killed to protect her pack, these men seemed sociable, and had already offered to help her.

"So... the Captain is your Alpha of sorts?" she ventured.

Bolt burst out laughing while Spanner went pale. "Don't let him hear ya say that word. He'll bite your head off."

"Yeah, he and Alphas go way back. I don't suppose you heard how he single-handedly killed five a couple years ago? Tore their throats right out," Rivet waved his arms in wild exaggeration, clearly enjoying the dramatization of the morbid story that was centuries old.

Savannah couldn't stop the full-body shudder that ran through her. "Yes, unfortunately."

Bolt narrowed his eyes at her words. "You're a pack wolf, aren't you?" he asked, suspicion lacing his tone.

"I was," Savannah answered carefully. "I met Zion when he invaded my pack. I left with him and haven't looked back since." While technically true, it wasn't the entire story. Savannah couldn't place all her trust in these men just yet.

"Smart girl. Never can trust them Alphas. Their followers are such dumb creatures."

"At least—" Savannah almost lurched to her feet to defend her ancestry and very blood in her veins, but something about the animosity that simmered under the rogues' skin like undercurrents of a dark tidal wave held her back and kept her tongue in check. "At least you have the freedom to chat on the job. If my... I mean, if the warriors in my pack decided to take a break whenever they felt like it, the Alpha would sentence them all to midnight shifts for a year."

"Midnight shifts!" Spanner threw up his hands and yelled at the ceiling. "That's something else you don't say around here. If the Captain is in even the slightest angry mood, he'll take it out by doubling production and forcing us to stay here all night."

"Sounds like employee abuse," Savannah pointed out.

"We take home the extra pay, so we can't really complain," Bolt shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess not," Savannah nodded, thinking about her own guards and warriors, and how she disciplined them if they broke the pack rules, and how she paid them for their continual service. It wasn't much different here with these men. Victor Forrester had taken on the rank of Alpha despite his hatred towards the title. What had happened in his past that turned him into the man he was now? What turned him rogue, and why did he kill a group of Alphas? Would Zion follow down the same path, and not only kill bad men, but also good Alphas?

As if materialised by her thoughts, her mate pushed through the door with determination on his face. When he made eye contact with her, his eyes blazed with anger.

"What is this offensive piece of trash all over my girl?" He stormed to her side and ripped the jacket off her without giving her any time to respond.

"That's my—" Spanner began, but his words turned to a strangled cry when the jacket was tossed over Zion's shoulder and landed in a vat of smouldering blue liquid.

"What was that for?" Savannah leapt to her feet and glared at Zion, demanding answers for his thunderous actions.

In return, Zion pushed her back further until her entire vision was taken up with his massive frame. Then his hands gripped her shirt and yanked it over her head before she could even blink. While her mouth gaped and words failed her, Zion threw his own jacket around her shoulders, stuffed her arms in the sleeves, and zipped it up to her chin in less time than it takes to say 'get dressed'. The man was as fast as lightning.

"If you're cold, you wear my clothes. But never, ever, another man's! You got it?" Pulling her close, he held her against his chest and took a deep breath. Seemingly satisfied, he loosened his grip but kept his hands on her arms possessively.

Hazel eyes bored into hers, flashing with flecks of fiery gold, and it took a moment for Savannah to swallow the dryness in her throat and respond. "You have no right to talk! You, who threw me in the icy water in the first place! You, who dismisses me to have your private conversations while I have to fend for myself amongst bloodthirsty rogues. You should be grateful they took care of me, unlike my own mate!" she yelled, failing to keep her voice low and even. Jabbing a finger in his chest, she made her point loud and clear.

The rogues behind Zion chuckled.

"Wow, this one sure is a keeper. You did well, boy," Rivet clapped.

"Such a firecracker, unlike the dormouse from last week," Bolt added.

"Question is, can you handle her?" Grinder walked in a circle around them, head tilted as if examining them both from head to toe.

Zion took a step back, running a hand down his face tiredly. But his stony expression remained, and when he turned to glare at the rogues, they immediately backed down.

"Tell me about all these girls you keep dumping here. I thought you said you never had any girlfriends or... or partners," Savannah struggled for an appropriate word for the slutty girls she imagined Zion picking up in bars and clubs.

He spun to face her, his eyes glittering like hardened gems. "What have these worthless mongrels been telling you?"

"Worthless mongrels? Where? I don't see any," Savannah looked left and right before shaking her head. The men smiled and nodded their heads in appreciation.

When all he could respond with was an irritated growl, Zion picked her up from around the waist and heaved her over his shoulder.

"You didn't answer my question!" she yelled from her upside position, her nose thumping against his hard muscled back.

Ignoring her yelps and pleas to get down, he gripped her knees and marched out the door. They exited the building, and only once she'd been thrown into the car did Savannah catch her breath. "You sure know how to deal with conflict," she crossed her arms and pouted as Zion slid into the driver's seat. "I should just get out now and walk away."

"Go ahead. Have fun making it home when you have no idea where to go," Zion replied flatly.

His glib response made her even angrier. "Yeah? Watch me," she pushed on the door but found it locked. Even after unlocking it multiple times, she finally realised he'd flicked on the child lock. As the car drove serenely away from the Captain's factory, she glared furiously at Zion.

"How far do you really think you can get? You're not even wearing a shirt," he glanced over and smirked.

At the reminder, she felt a blush rising on her neck and face. Her body had heated up considerably since he'd given her his warm jacket, yet the thought of only wearing her underwear beneath made her want to disappear into the car seat and never return to the outside world. "All thanks to you," she mumbled before reaching into his pockets. "I could probably just use your phone or wallet to make my own way."

Her fingers curled around a piece of hard paper, and she pulled it out to stare at an old photograph. The smiling face of a beautiful woman stared back at Savannah, causing her stomach to twist and tighten strangely.

"Give me that," Zion growled and snatched it from her fingers before she could study it for more than two seconds.

"Who is she?" Savannah's voice was weak and thready.

"None of your damn business."

At his blunt words, Savannah shrank into the seat and stared out the window, stunned and cold from the inside out as they drove back to the city in total silence.