Page 41 of Rejected By the Winter Wolf

I inhale sharply, taking in the sourness of worry that borders on fear—from my beta, who fears almost nothing—and I stop walking. There are a few reasons he could be in this state. The first would be the predicament he’s put my sister in as her mate. The second would be the witch.

If I ignore the first, the second seems reasonable.

No matter how many late-night runs we go on, no matter how much I reassure my pack that everything is fine… they’re not going to believe it until they know the truth.

The truth is exactly what Astra asked for, too.

I told her it didn’t exist. But what I meant was, there’s not one truth. If I tell her the wolves’ truth, the secret my pack hides from the world as a species, then there’s no telling what she could do with it. And if she ever gets free of me, she could tell other covens. Powerful ones. What would they do with our secret?

We can’t fucking procreate without killing our own females.

The witches could wipe us out.

“Call for a meeting tomorrow morning,” I direct to Roman. There, I’ll tell my pack what they need to hear. “Every able body should be there.”

Roman nods, but he hesitates to leave my side. My mind is loud, and the orchards always give me a modicum of peace. I know they do the same for my hunters.

“You can join me,” I offer against my better judgment.

Roman and I have not discussed his mate and her pregnancy. And how I could kill him for putting her in this position. The rational side of my brain knows that this was bound to happen. Instincts for it are rooted in our wolves, and some urges are harder to shut out than others.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to strangle him. Because of him, I’ll have to watch my sister die.

He grimaces. “Jess wanted me to talk some sense into you.”

Of course. I can only imagine what it’s about. Her pregnancy is the first to pop into my head. Truthfully, it’s barely left. But there’s also the matter of our cousin, Gage. And Astra. In fact, it’s almost certainly about the little witch.

Snickering amusement from wolf echoes in my mind. One of us enjoys thinking of her.

“I could just tell you, instead of you trying to figure out what I’m talking about,” Roman laughs.

“Out with it, then.”

“She’s concerned about the witch.” His tone gets on my nerves.

I only wish I could control my reaction to his disdain. My eyes narrow; my lips pull back to expose my teeth. “I have Astra under control.”

He stops walking, his head automatically bending away. Exposing his throat in a show of submission. I almost keep stomping on, just to leave him behind, but I’m not that big of an asshole.

I face him and somehow get my expression back to neutral.

“Astra.” His surprise radiates toward me.

Her name sounds like a garble of letters in his mouth, and he can’t seem to fathom that I just said her name out loud—he can’t imagine that I even know her name, let alone use it.

But it’s a fine name. It suits her.

“Jess isn’t the only one worried. You’ve been keeping secrets from the pack.” He steps closer, although he shudders to do so. His voice and his gaze are low when he continues, “We don’t need you to pour your heart out, but everyone has questions.”

The last few months haven’t been easy. The demons have been pushing through with higher frequency. We’ve lost six females in the last two years from our pack alone, and I loathe that our numbers keep dwindling. Our numbers will continue to shrink, whether we bury our heads in the sand or face it. And all the while, I’ve felt this desperate sense of urgency building inside me.

My father gave me this pack only for me to watch my females die off one by one. I think he’s laughing from the grave.

I must break this curse. I need to stop the dying, more than anything else. The next one to die will be my sister. More than demons, more than bordering wolf packs trying to nose into my territory, saving her is my top priority.

So, yes, I’ve been hell-bent. I’ve been focused.

Obsessed, even.