Page 55 of Rejected By the Winter Wolf

He catches a scent, and we aim northwest to follow it.

We slow to a trot, crashing through underbrush, and emerge in a small clearing.

Out here, we’re miles and miles from the nearest towns. Mountains rise around us, and the scent of rain permeates the air. Humans haven’t tainted nature out here, and unless there’s an errant hiker, we won’t be discovered.

Just the way we like it.

My cousin steps into the clearing in his wolf form. His golden eyes reveal his anger. I accept it but don’t offer to reach out and mind-speak. If I wanted to do that, we wouldn’t need to travel here. He has two betas with him, too. They stay on the fringes, like Griffin and Roman. I spot them darting through the shadows, pacing behind their alpha.

We both shift, although I suspect we won’t be in human form long.

“Kian.” His tone is harsh, guttural. He seems even more irritated than his body language belied.

I maintain a stoic expression. “Gage. You look… well.”

His yellow hair is longer than the last time I saw him as a human. It now hangs to his shoulders. He runs his hand through it, then shrugs. He’s leaner than me, his muscles smaller. Of the two of us, he weighs less, not that it makes him any less dangerous. He’s quick. The few times we’ve wrestled in recent years, it’s been a toss-up between the two of us. I have the power and muscle; he has a leg up on agility.

Our fathers trained us how to be the best fighters. Fighting for control is an instinctual thing in a wolf pack, but the best way to come out on top can be learned. And for alphas, it’s life or death.

“Where is my witch?” he asks.

My wolf bristles. I’ve got him under wraps, but Gage’s eyes gleam like he saw my reaction as plain as day. This won’t be so much a conversation as a test.

“I don’t believe we came to the agreement that she’s yours.” I try to keep my voice even. My wolf shows me an image of tearing into Gage. Always blood and glory with him.

“What were you doing so far north anyway? You know our rules.”

My wolf gives zero fucks about Gage and his territory. He doesn’t respect my cousin as an alpha of anything. But if Gage knew that, this would be a much more unpleasant conversation.

“You intercepted us on neutral land,” I say instead. It’s not altogether a lie. We were in his territory at one point. By the time he caught up with us, we were out of it.

Semantics.

He glowers at me. “I don’t think⁠—”

“The witch is in my possession to do with as I please. You had her… and then you lost her. Or did you forget that part of your hunt? The part where you lost her?”

Anger flushes his skin.

“To keep a witch, you have to best her,” I continue. “Subdue her.”

“I had her⁠—”

“Until you didn’t.” I shrug. “You know how this comes across, Gage? You’re no better than a toddler who lost a toy that was never his. Stomping around and throwing a fit. It’s not a good look on you.”

“Don’t fucking condescend to me.” He closes the distance between us.

At my back, Griffin growls.

Gage stops just shy of arm’s reach, but he’s on the verge of losing it. His eyes are ambering, and his shoulders automatically hunch as his spine elongates. His short fuse will be the death of him.

“Shift,” I goad. “Lose your temper. Go on, cousin. We all know your control isn’t entirely in your grasp on a good day.”

It wouldn’t matter, except to embarrass him in front of his wolves. And mine.

Sometimes, rumors and gossip do more damage than anything else.

He reins it in, his jaw ticking. He throws his shoulders back and scowls. “You have the witch? Give her to me. Otherwise, you won’t like what happens next.”