Page 57 of Wolf Unseen

“Um, I can ask him if you like?” I offered, eager to show some sisterly solidarity.

“Oh my goddess, I love you, Riley!” The petite mountain lion shifter flung her arms around me and squeezed so tight I yelped. “Wow,” she exclaimed in surprise, “you’re slimmer than you look.”

“Um, moving on,” I said hurriedly, putting some space between us. “So you definitely didn’t see my sister at either of the parties?”

The felines all shook their heads.

“Sorry, babe,” Kasia said. “There was fae wine, so we all got wasted.”

Ugh. I still had no solid leads whatsoever.

If only Felix could figure out who the guy pictured with Lorna was.

I drained my weak-as-piss beer and was about to ask what they knew about Tate Montes when my wolf went nuts as the crowd near the octagon began chanting.

“Tank! Tank! Tank!”

“Tank?”

Kasia grinned. “The Frosthaven pack heir. He’s unbeaten, but some dumb fucker always likes to try their luck.”

I craned my neck to see who she meant and recognized him immediately. This was the alpha wolf who’d intervened in the canteen that time. Of course he’d be here.

I, like every other female—and half the males—swooned.

Tank Frosthaven towered over everyone else, even Tate. I drank in his chest, hard-packed with slabs of tanned muscle, and thighs like tree-trunks. The male exuded raw power. The sort of power that would be hard to beat. Somehow, I suspected he and Tate would be evenly matched if they fought each other.

As I stood staring—okayyyy, ogling—he turned and caught my eye. A flood of awareness ripped through me, and my wolf came to the fore, desperate to escape her cage.

It was him, she told me. The wolf who’d saved our life in the forest. The giant beast that lay with us on the frozen ground and kept us warm and safe while we healed from our injuries.

And from the way he inhaled sharply before his eyes burned with pure gold intensity, he recognized the wolf in me too.

A pair of wolf shifters clad in denim and leather pushed in front of me, momentarily blocking my view of the alpha wolf. It was enough to restore my sanity.

I needed to leave before the alpha wolf caught up with me and started asking questions I couldn’t answer, like why my wolf was female when I appeared male. It was bad enough that Tobias knew.

I ducked between a group of feline shifters and moved at speed toward the exit. Kasia and the others would wonder where I’d gone, but I’d message them once I got outside.

The path to the exit tunnel cleared as a loud voice announced the next fight was about to begin. Thankfully, people were more interested in watching two shifters beat each other senseless to pay much attention to me.

My phone buzzed in my pocket as I ran down the tunnel, but I ignored it. The two large wolf shifters guarding the entrance turned just as a heavy hand grabbed my shoulder.

“Little dude,” Tobias purred in my ear, his voice silky-smooth, like honey dripping off a hot spoon. “I’m disappointed you’re leaving so soon.”

33

Tank

Fight night. We ran them every couple of weeks, depending on our schedules and orders from our fathers. In the beginning, fighting in a ring away from school and pack had been a way to let off steam. A chance to release aggression without fear of repercussions.

But word had spread, and now shifters came from far and wide to test their skills against the strongest of us.

It hadn’t taken long for Tate’s father to show an interest. Betting on illegal fights was bread and butter for him, a money-spinning exercise. And as our unofficial fight nights became more popular, the croc shifters moved in.

Tate caught my eye as I watched the asshole croc shifter and his buddy take bets. Both were colder than the polar ice caps, and neither had a sense of humor. But Tate’s father insisted they handle the money side of fight nights. Fewer distractions meant we could concentrate on putting on a good show, or so he said but every time I saw one of the croc shifters, my wolf got antsy. They gave off a bad vibe, as if they had a whole other agenda we were unaware of.

The way they stared at the females was creepy too. Plenty of males stared at females; females were in the minority here. But ogling a pretty female was not the same as assessing her for her potential value.