Sovereign Nation I: Hunger of the Wolf
As an electro-kinetic high on the government's list of desirables, Shilo's been on the run ever since she escaped their clutches. What she doesn't realize is that her psychic gift is also the lure that draws lycans to her, that the 'scent' of her gift is many times more seductively potent to them even than the scent of one of their own females in heat.
Length: Mid Novel
Word Count: 74,963
Genre: Paranormal/Werewolf Romance
Available formats: PDF, RTF, Epub, HTML, Mobipocket (.prc)
© Cover Art by Jenny Dixon, April 2007
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
The bastard was brazen, he’d give him that, Dante Belue thought angrily as he shadowed the alpha of the rogue pack that had been encroaching on his territory for months. They’d been more subtle to begin with, slipping in and out again before any of his pack mates could lay one of them by the heels and, so far, they’d managed to elude every attempt to track them back to their lair. They didn’t try to hide the fact that they’d encroached. They made damned sure they left a calling card when they came. They’d simply been playing at cat and mouse, more of an annoyance to begin with than anything else.
The incursions had been steadily escalating, however, both in frequency and violence until there was no longer any doubt in his mind that the pack alpha wanted a territorial war or, more accurately, he supposed, the son-of-a-bitch was after his ranking in the pack.
He was prime alpha over the entire territory. There were more than a dozen other packs beneath his own that were under his jurisdiction. If the rogue had wanted nothing more than to move into the territory, he would have sought him out and requested acceptance and then he could have challenged anyone for pack ranking.
He’d been thumbing his nose at Dante, however, by breaking pack protocol. He was well within his rights to attack without any further provocation, without warning, without any challenge at all, and dispose of the rogue in whatever manner he saw fit, up to and including killing him outright. He wasn’t even required to consider it a bona fide challenge and meet the man honorably. He could send any one of his pack brothers out, or the whole lot of them, and simply slaughter the rogue pack.
He would have the full support of his pack and the other packs within his territory if he chose to do so. He would have the full support of the head council, for that matter.
On a personal level, though, it went against the grain. He had absolute faith in his own abilities and blindsiding the rogue, whatever the provocation, just smacked of cowardice and underhandedness in his book. He didn’t need to play that way, and he had no intention of doing so, although the bastard was really starting to piss him off. For his own comfort, he’d decided he was either going to have to catch him in the act—in which case all bets were off—or he was going to have to figure out a way to force the rogue to meet him in a fair fight.
Waiting for the rogue to make his move wasn’t getting him anywhere fast. He’d been expecting the son-of-a-bitch to come forward and challenge him for weeks. If he was going to, though, he figured the rogue would’ve by now.
So, he was either waiting for something, or he just didn’t have the balls to actually face Dante without a prod in that direction.
He wasn’t sure what the hell the bastard might be waiting for—but he was waiting for something. Dante was sure of that.