Chapter Eighty-Three

Russo’s POV

The sun and the sand had ways of beating down on a man. The dunes shimmered in the oppressive heat. Russo lay on a rocky outcrop and he could taste the sand in his mouth. The dunes were far behind them now and the sun would only set in three more hours.

They had located a rogue group of wolves that had entered one of their camps and gotten their hands on weapons that even they weren’t supposed to have. They had to destroy the weapons along with the rogue group before questions that nobody had the answers to were asked.

Sweat trickled down his back, down his forehead and into his eyes, but he never moved his hand to wipe it away. He had to keep his focus on the building a few hundred yards in front of them. His men were on a lower level, getting some much needed shut eye and Russo kept watch.

He loved the army, loved the routine and the discipline and the missions they went on saved actual lives. He missed pack life too but the army felt like home. There were too many memor