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“Protection goes both ways. We’re not about to leave you alone to face this threat, whether it comes from vampires or wolves. We—”
Bel cut off River by placing his hand on his shoulder. His entire body had gone stiff and his gaze distant. He cocked his head to the side as if he were straining to hear something. River listened as well, but it wasn’t so much a sound. It was a feeling that started to tingle along his skin and tickle his nose. They weren’t alone.
“I want you and Wyatt to go inside,” Bel said firmly.
“What?” Wyatt demanded, closing the car door and coming to stand directly beside Bel.
“Wolves.”
That one word sent a chill sliding into River’s veins, freezing his blood. He barely heard Bel’s command to go inside and lock the doors. Why? Why now? Hadn’t they gone through enough? The local pack had to find them already and start harassing them? It wasn’t fair. They should have had at least one night with Bel to try to recover from the painful blow he’d already been dealt. Did their protector really need to be reminded that they brought their own brand of trouble?
But Bel wasn’t hesitating as he marched out of the open garage door.
And they were not going to leave him alone.
Bel was not in the mood for this nonsense, but he was not backing down. He could feel the wolves standing just beyond the edge of his property. Their numbers were meant to draw his attention, and they were impressive. He could have sworn that Wyatt mentioned the local pack being small, but he sensed well over two dozen wolves in the woods around his house. How many wolves were in Wyatt and River’s former pack if this was considered small?
Snow crunched behind Bel, and part of him smiled. He would have been shocked if Wyatt and River followed his instructions.
“You realize you are much harder to protect if you’re out here with me,” Bel murmured as they walked through the woods toward the wolves. His hard-soled shoes slipped on the ice, but a strong hand grabbed his elbow, holding him steady until he regained his footing.
“And you are impossible to protect from inside the house,” Wyatt said.
“Do you have a plan?” River asked on the other side of him.
“We’re just talking. This could be an introduction of neighbors. I haven’t been living here that long.”
River made a scoffing noise in the back of his throat, and Bel couldn’t exactly disagree. He doubted the wolves were here to welcome him to the neighborhood or to borrow a cup of sugar.
“This also could be a misunderstanding,” Bel continued, fighting to keep any kind of waver out of his voice.
This was such a Marcus situation. How many times had his older brother stood before the Ministry to argue why Julianna or Rafe or even Bel shouldn’t be put to death? How many times had he calmly maneuvered tense negotiations with other vampire clans when it came time to move into a region?
Bel didn’t do this kind of thing. He didn’t talk to people. And definitely not in person.
“You’ll do fine. We have your back, and if we must, we will leave with them,” Wyatt said, but Bel was already shaking his head.
“No, you’re not leaving with them unless they welcome you into their pack with open arms. They must respect your relationship.” He would not allow Wyatt and River to come to harm. Yes, he still had a mess to deal with in terms of his family and the Ministry, but he could at least take control of this situation for his wolves.
And they were his now.
A raven cawed overhead followed by the flutter of wings. A couple of seconds later, sharp talons sank through his wool winter coat as Ozzie settled on his shoulder. A flurry of images battered Bel’s brain, but he was accustomed to the raven’s barrage of fast thoughts when he was excited. At the very least, he was giving Bel a clear view of all the wolves he saw slinking around the edge of his property.
When he’d bought the land, he’d been very careful to have a surveyor clearly mark off the boundaries. If he was going to command and communicate with the animals that crossed his land, he wanted them to be able to tell where his domain ended. Should they not want to associate with him, they needed only to avoid his property. Some had learned that lesson. Others didn’t seem to care.
“What does he say?” River asked.
“Ozzie is upset there are so many wolves gathered. He says there are thirty-two, but I think that’s an overestimation. He’s not great at numbers.”
The raven cried out as if in disagreement, and a feeling of affront buffeted Bel from the bird. It really was startling, the amount of detail and emotional nuance he received from the raven. It was enough to make him wonder if Ozzie was a shifter rather than a true raven. But then, he’d read in numerous sources that they were incredibly intelligent animals. Ozzie was certainly proof of that.
