Hills bucked up and down worse than a drunk with the heaves. Too many damn trees and rocks. Even the dirt looked poor as shit. No view. South Dakota might be fit for birds but not much else. “You expect our pack to move to this hellhole?” he asked his cousin Lara. Drew Tao chose that moment to walk from the SUV, a roll of papers under his arm. Roark didn’t care if he’d heard him or not. “Keep your voice down.” She smoothed the red streak in hair as black as her cousin’s. “The Tao pack was generous to offer us land.” He kicked at the uneven ground with his boot. “There’s got to be another way.” “The Lamar Canyon pack is decimated,” she insisted. “Whoever stays in Yellowstone will eventually be killed off by the ranchers and hunters.” Tell me something I don’t already know. “I don’t want you there, either.” She gripped his arm, making the black leather squeak. “It’s not safe.” Drew politely cleared his throat.
