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Her presence made no sense, but he was beginning to suspect that some things about her weren’t a coincidence. Her age. Her eye color. Her knack for demanding submission from wolves twice her size.
It was one thing to speculate. On the other hand, probing gossip was a step too far—and yet, Eric found himself leaving the pack borders under the guise of patrolling the perimeter anyway. An hour’s drive, the town of Elkton lurked just outside the boundaries of Eislander territory.
Typically, there existed a strained peace. The lycans in the foothills kept to themselves, and the humans respected the large “nature reserve” nearby. No need for compulsion or bribes to go unnoticed.
Roughly nineteen or twenty years ago, things hadn’t been so civil. Eric could remember the time vaguely—one of the few who’d ever entered the heart of the small town in person. His destination had been the same then as it was now.
The sheriff’s office. The second he parked, someone was already exiting the building to greet him.
“This is a surprise,” the man called. Balding, roughly sixty years old, he had been a patrol officer in those days. A gleaming badge affixed to his crisp shirt proclaimed that he’d been promoted since then. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around these parts in over a decade. Eric, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. And you are deputy—now Sheriff, it seems—Varl,” Eric replied, impressed the man could recall his name. Some of the tension left his body as he continued to advance, sporting a strained smile that he hoped passed as genuine. “Morning. I wanted to know if you remembered an incident that occurred a few years ago involving a spate of murders in this area.”
“Oh, the Dansforth killings. Of course, I do. Everyone around these parts does. Why would you want to bring up something like that?” The man raised an eyebrow, but Eric sensed no hostility.
Just curiosity. Apparently, that time had left its mark on the humans the same way it scarred his kind—though some details had been blurred throughout the years. What the mortals recalled as a serial killer had, in actuality, been a rogue belonging to a pack of vicious nomads.
“I wanted to know if I could look at those files,” Eric said, still maintaining a smile.
It was a hunch, but it wouldn’t stop niggling at his mind. The killings had brought unwanted attention to their territory. So much so they’d been forced to work with a band of outsiders to come to a resolution.
One of them had been a female, young, blond. He could barely remember her name.
But he could remember her attitude well enough.
“I could send them your way,” the sheriff said. “You want anything in particular?”
“I do,” Eric replied. “I would like all of it.”
9
“She marked you.”
Bill wasn’t surprised when, the second he tiredly mounted the back porch steps, Sonia appeared from the shadows.
It was just after sundown, but she looked as exhausted as if he’d been gone for days. Her hair hung loose and unbrushed, while she had arms crossed over her chest, lips pursed with an emotion he couldn’t place.
“Where is she?” he asked, ignoring the question.Close by.His nostrils were already flaring, impregnated with her scent.
“Inside—” Sonia inclined her head toward the house. “I didn’t answer any of her questions, if that’s what you’re worried about, but it’s time that you do. She marked you,” she repeated. “I saw it. Don’t lie to me.”
“I won’t,” Bill admitted. Hours of running and his head felt no clearer. If anything, the instinct Loren had unintentionally awoken was stronger than ever, howling for relief.
“How far did it go?” Sonia began tentatively. “Did you… Bill, please tell me you didn’t give in to impulse. Please. Especially if you plan on cutting her loose! Have you stopped to consider how this will affect her? Have you?”
He grimaced. Three years his junior, and Sonia stillhad a way of making him feel like a kid about to get scolded.
“I wouldn’t take advantage of her like that,” he began.
Liar.The wound on his chest throbbed in disagreement—recalling the sting of her teeth, sinking deep. The primal beast within him still seethed at the challenge and craved to return the wound tit-for-tat. He’d come close. A groan escaped him at the memory of her skin, plush and pliable right between his own canines. If Sonia hadn’t come when she had…
“Tell me,” the woman prodded. “How far did it go?”
“She couldn’t control it,” he blurted, trying to rationalize it himself. “The bond is too strong. I should have never—”
“That isn’t what I meant.” Sonia advanced as he mounted the top step, barring his path. “I’m asking why didyoulet her?”
She could have punched him in the chest right then and there, and it wouldn’t have hurt any less than that simple question.Why?
