Free Desert Wolf by Heather Long Page B

her husband passed away, he’d welcomed her home.
    She always said she needed to be needed.
    “We have guests in the bungalow. You should make enough for them.”
    “I will worry about what they eat. You, go. Look, you got dirt on the tile. Now I shall have to sweep again.”
    “You live to sweep.” He grinned, the first real smile he’d felt like in days. Despite the bloodshed and the loss, Sovvan was in Summit. She was safe and alive. If she needed a day or two to heal, he could spare her that much.
    “Hmm.” It was Maria’s turn to growl. “Go. Shower, before I must bring in the incense to chase out your stench.”
    Cassius laughed and strode up the stairs. Only at home could he relax a fraction. Yes, he could give Sovvan a short time to acclimate. Then they needed to get to work. Every passing hour brought them closer to the Reaping. If his plan had a chance in hell of working, they had to be ready before then.
    In his bedroom, he glanced out the tinted windows overlooking the bungalow. Faust moved back and forth from the SUV to the house, offloading bags and boxes. The little Omega packed for a long visit.
    Scratching his chest, he looked for any sign of her wolf. Perhaps she’d been the first thing Faust took inside. Had her injuries been severe enough to require such care?
    Heading for the bathroom, he debated his options. Respect the Hound’s assertion she was fine or find out for himself? “I’ll give you ‘til this afternoon, she-wolf. Then I will see you for myself.”

Chapter 5
    W aking to the dry , yet cool breeze surprised Sovvan. The vehicle didn’t rumble beneath her, but then…she wasn’t in a car. No, she’d been sleeping in a bedroom. Rising on all four legs, she tested the air for familiar scents. Faust and a human woman she didn’t know—and no one else. Shaking her head, she hopped off the bed and padded around the room. It was a simple room, the door to the hallway was mostly closed and a second door to the bathroom stood wide. Another set of doors overlooked a patio, but a crossbar blocked them.
    Groggy and more than a little shaky, she pressed the door to the hallway closed until she heard a click. Halfway to the bathroom, she caught the sound of movement in the hall.
    “I’ll start the chicory dripping if you’re up, and I’ve made some sandwiches.”
    Her stomach growled at the thought of food. When was the last time she ate? She vaguely recalled some steaks while in the SUV. Hangovers sucked, especially when she nursed injuries. She barked once to let Faust know her agreement, then limped into the bathroom. Bracing herself, she bowed her head and reached for her human half. As tired and worn out as she was after sleeping, the shift would hurt but damn if she didn’t want a shower and a good look at her injuries.
    Ten agonizing minutes later, she dragged herself to her feet and peered at her reflection. The cut above her eye had closed to a bruised seam as had the claw marks on her arms. With gentle fingers, she probed her scalp. One thing she hadn’t admitted to either her Guardian or the Alpha—one of those blows she’d taken included a fist to the head and, if she wasn’t wrong, at some point she’d hit the ground or maybe they’d hit her with something.
    She winced when she located a lump on her scalp. Tender to the touch, she probed for any open wound around it and, thankfully, her head didn’t pound in time with it. So the shifting and sleeping had done that much for her. Another joy of being an Omega—she didn’t heal as other wolves did. Where other wolves gained significant strength, she experienced trembling. She was by no means as weak as a human, but against other wolves? She relied on her martial training in straight out conflicts, because brute strength wasn’t one of her gifts.
    Thankfully, she’d done rather well in both kickboxing and other self-defense classes. The Hounds training her had never been gentle, either. Stretching, she tested every