“My older brother,” Warner offers with a sheepish grin. “He’s a little antisocial.”
I’m plenty social. With the pack. I sit in The Rabbit Hole most evenings so any one of them can approach me.
“That’s okay. I am too,” Zoey says before bopping his nose.
I can tell, even from a distance, that the playful gesture pleases my brother.
And I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not.
But I don’t have any more time to consider it because Juliet captures my attention by climbing a large rock, all the while still gripping her beer.
“Not tonight! Tonight, we christen our friendship! Two outsiders, taking over Pine Falls. To hell with the bikers! This town will be run by women!”
The declaration has me gritting my teeth. Not the women part. If the pack magic had chosen a female alpha, that would have been fine by me.
No, what rankles me is Juliet’s obvious pride at being an outsider.
Outsiders only bring pain. That’s nothing to brag about.
The women shoo Warner away, and he backs off with a smile.
When he rejoins me, my mouth moves before I consider my words. “They’re ridiculous.”
“They’re drunk.” He shrugs.
“It’s not safe.” The admission is reluctant, and I do my best to make it clear I’m chastising their poor judgment to get intoxicated in the wilderness.
“Well, yeah. That’s why I’m not actually leaving.”
At least we agree on that.
Warner heads deeper into the forest, and I follow, pulling at the strings connecting me to my other form. After quickly shucking off my clothes, shadows shift around my body, clinging with cold tendrils to my skin, coaxing out an inner part of me. My wolf rises happily, ready to guard the woman he considers our mate. As eager as the animal is, the pain of the change is still acute. I let out a grunt as my bones snap and muscles tear, but quickly shake the aches off and sit still as Warner finishes his shift. He’s slower than me, but only because the added power of being the pack leader sends me through the change faster.
The two of us settle in our wolf forms, close enough to hear if either of the women screams. Juliet would probably be pissed to find out we were lurking here like this. I’m betting even more so after the pushback I gave her about alarm systems.
But I’ve already folded on that matter, spending a good chunk of money on web courses instructing how to install different systems. The needed parts are in the mail, and soon, Juliet will have her very own security system.
I try not to dwell on how my pulse picks up its pace at the thought of returning to her little house. The security system will take time to install. Hours when I’ll be surrounded by her scent, moving through her home. Then, when it’s all done, the woman will be grateful. Maybe she’ll be so happy that she’ll smile at me or raise her arms for a hug?—
Yes!my wolf crows.
No, I remind my brain and my instinct.
The Gunner woman leaves the safety of the fire to stomp loudly through the trees, singing a silly rhyme about peeing in the woods. Warner gives a chuff of a laugh and follows after her, though I’m sure he’ll still keep his distance. I know my brother, and he’d never watch a woman when she’s taking a private moment.
Even this level of spying, staying within earshot of the pair, causes us both discomfort. As the pack leader, I can pick up more information than the average wolf through our bonds, which is how I know Warner is torn between respecting Zoey’s space and wanting to keep her safe.
The big dog they have with them belatedly lumbers after Zoey, leaving Juliet alone at the bonfire. I expect her to stand quietly and wait for her friend to return. Instead, the little librarian sings some country-sounding song about a cowboy killer and attempts to moonwalk her way down to the waterline. I keep a wary eye on her, positive she’s about to trip into the lake and drown herself.
But she keeps on her feet, still singing to herself as she picks up a handful of stones and, one by one, skips them along the still surface. The reflection of stars ripples with each toss, and I make out the soft plops of the stones hopping along.
Zoey and her dog reappear in the firelight just as my brother returns to my side, and we settle in.
Soft voices float toward us, carried on the breeze from the lake, picked up by our advanced hearing. The conversation is missing the lighthearted tone from earlier, and I struggle with my curiosity, finally slipping out from the trees and stepping carefully along the rocky shore in hopes of discovering the actual topic being discussed.
“How’d you hear about Pine Falls then?” Zoey asks.
The question has me slipping even closer, hungry for the answer.
