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I’m fast, but not as fast as I usually am. Weird. I spur my wolf, but she’s as stubborn as the rest of me. After I’ve gone a few yards, I figure out what the issue is.
My wolf wants to run, but she also whimpers at the thought of leaving her mate behind. I should’ve expected that. So, promising her that we won’t go that far, I get her to pick up the pace. We’re just taking a quick run down the mountain and back. That’s all.
At least, that was the plan...
Just once I’d like to be free to run on my own. For the first twenty-five years of my life, I played the part of an omega princess. In my old pack, omegas were coddled, and it was a miracle if I got to go anywhere without a freaking chaperone. Sure, my mom and dad knew the truth, but they agreed that that was even more of a reason to keep an eye on me. A female alpha is priceless, and my parents would do anything to keep me safe. Paul’s the Alpha of the Lakeview Pack. In his territory, I couldn’t be any more protected.
Same thing happened when I first arrived in Accalia the June before last. I was still Omega Gem, but I was also Ryker’s intended mate. I had eyes on me all the time. You’d think it wouldn’t be so bad now that my new pack knows the truth about me being an alpha.
Not even close. Especially since a forever mate wasn’t the only thing I got when I came back to the mountains to perform the Luna Ceremony two weeks ago.
They’re getting better at tailing me. I’ll give them that. Usually, I can sense them almost as soon as I go from skin to fur. I must’ve been distracted or something, though, because I’m about a third of the way down the mountain when I finally realize that they’re behind me.
Because of course they are. And if I don’t confront them now, they’ll follow me the whole rest of my run.
Sue me if that tends to put the edge back in my aggression. I’m twenty-six years old. I think I’m getting a little too old for a bunch of babysitters.
They call themselves my personal guard. Yeah. Right. They’re baby-sitters, and I’m so not in the mood for them right now.
Just like I expected, when I wheel around on my pursuers, I’m in time to see three wolves quickly closing the gap between me and them. Three… I take a deep breath, tasting the scents on the air, cataloging them instinctively. It’s chilly, carrying the promise of a storm mingling with the musk coming from one, two, three, four distinctive male wolves.
Of course. It’s the oldest wolf trick in the book. While these three idiots are trying to catch up to me, the fourth one is going around, ready to herd me back up the mountain.
Another sniff. Even if I didn’t recognize the wolves by their size and their coats—a brindled wolf, a lean grey wolf, and a husky black wolf—I would’ve known from their scents alone that Duke drew the short end of the stick.
Of the four, Duke’s the biggest both in his fur and his skin. I swivel my head, my ears twitching as I pinpoint where those massive paws of his are hitting the ground. I don’t see him, not yet at least, but quiet Duke ain’t. He’s just behind me.
Good.
Digging my paws into the earth, I arch my back, snarling as I warn Jace, Dorian, and Bobby against continuing to chase after me. Over the last two weeks, they’ve learned when I’m grateful for the distraction and when I’m seconds away from picking a throat and going for it.
It’s a snarl, but any shifter hearing it would be able to translate the wolfish command pretty easily.
Don’t you fucking follow me.
Bobby and Dorian immediately fall back. Jace, the brindled wolf, takes a few pointed steps in my direction. I brace my front legs, baring my fangs. Another step and I snap. Throwing back my head, I howl.
The two younger wolves spin and run.
Though his legs lock for a few seconds, Jace lowers his muzzle to the dirt, visibly submitting before he slowly turns, then follows after the others. A deep breath assures me that Duke has heard the howl and, smartly, decided to go back the way he came without even letting me see him.
I’m finally alone again, just me and my wolf.
It won’t last long. Maybe for some of my other packmates, the howl would be enough to have them turning tail and heading all the way back to their cabins. With these four? The power in my howl is only second to their strange obsession to protect me. That seems to trump everything else, including me snapping my fangs at them.
I go another mile, pushing my wolf to her limits just to prove I can, but before I start on another one, I sense them for the second time. They’re careful to keep some distance. They don’t want to get too close in case I take it as a challenge.
Part of me wants to. The angry, reckless, human side of me wants to tear them a new one—but I don’t. After all, I’m the idiot who agreed that the four wolves could act as my personal guard. Can I really blame them for doing what they swore they would?
That’s it. I give up. I have this urge to keep on running, but it loses some of its allure when I have four wolves tracking my every footfall. At this point, I might as well shift back, get dressed again, and head back to the Alpha’s cabin.
Though we spent the first couple of days after our mating together in Ryker’s personal cabin, after Trish was taken, he insisted that we make the Alpha’s cabin our home base. We probably would have even if it wasn’t for Walker; technically, the cabin is designed for the Alpha and his mate so once our honeymoon was over, it was inevitable we’d end up staying there together. It gives us more privacy than Ryker’s, and its position is one that is essential to the safety of the pack. As Alpha, Ryker is the first line of defense. Though he’s never come out and said it, I know he believes that he could’ve stopped Barrow from leaving Accalia with Trish if we’d been here instead of on the other side of the mountain.
This time of night, odds are fifty-fifty that Ryker will still be hard at work in the den. An office attached to the back of the oversized cabin, a shifter’s den is an assigned room in the Alpha’s cabin that is open to all packmates. When he’s there, anyone that belongs to the Mountainside Pack can meet with him. Once he crosses into the next room, the Alpha’s time is his own.
Mine, too, now. And as frustrated as I am that my run was cut short, my heart skips the tiniest of beats when I throw open the front door of the cabin and find him leaning forward on the couch, looking down at something spread out on the coffee table in front of him.
It’s a map of the tri-state area. A clipboard is next to it, a marker and a pen tossed on top of the page. I know what the marker’s about. Most of the map is covered with big Xs as Ryker continues to send pairs of wolves out of Accalia, searching for some sign of the Wicked Wolf.
