Page 82 of The SnowFang Secret


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Sterling looked around, then back at the wolves. “You’re not very bright, are you.”

“I think you’re trespassing. On our territory.”

“This is a public street. Head about a quarter mile that way, claim that swamp, and shout at me from there.” Sterling pointed towards the brush.

The three wolves swarmed closer. “High-bred wolves. You don’t belong here. Wonder how much your pack would pay for you. Or if you’d last long enough for them to answer the phone.”

One wolf pressed close to me and inhaled. I smelled like fresh bait, sweat, and bug food, but he shivered and his skin prickled under the sheen of humidity and sweat that coated all of us. Sterling pushed him back. “She’s not for you.”

“Sure she isn’t. I’d share.” He indicated his packmates with a tilt of his head.

Gross.

Sterling glanced at me. “Interested in the offer?”

I snorted. “Not mean enough for my taste.”

Sterling curled his lip at the one in front, gathered up the hem of his to reveal the first inch of the distinctive silver scar on his belly.

“Showing your neuter scar?” One laughed and shoved Sterling on the shoulder.

I stepped around to be between Sterling and the wolf, presenting the silver scar on my arm to their plain view. With how pale pink it was against my Florida tanned-and-burned arm, it shouted all sorts of terrifying profanities.

The three of them got onto their collective mental tricycle. Strange wolves with silver scars meanttrouble. Especially when the she-wolf was high-bred, and the male had deep, bloody prestige he’d ripped out of bodies and souls.

I grinned. “They wanted us to beg.Us. Beg them to stop, beg for our place in the pack, beg for forgiveness. Called mewhoreandabominationbecause of the mate Gaia chose for me. Thought they could makehimbeg and grovel if they made him watch.”

Whatever interest they had for me in sexy playtime (or at least leering at me) instantly convinced the humidity-saturated air to make room for it to evaporate.

Silvery hair emerged over Sterling’s skin and coated his arm. “Tell me whatyouknow about a necklace that was hidden in this swamp long ago.”

“Ne-cklace?” the male burbled.

“Yes. A necklace. A crystal necklace on a silver chain.”

“I don’t know anything,” he growled, then whimpered, then tried to growl again.

“I’m sure he knows something, Sterling,” I lied, but it made the wolf panic a bit more.

“Come closer. Perhaps you did not hear me.” Sterling twisted his grip tighter.

I stroked the wolf’s ear with a fingernail. The wolf snapped at me with still human teeth. When I said my mate’s name, the wolves flinched, and I told the one he had a hold of, “That’s his name. And not even silver can kill him. They already tried.”

He shuddered and cringed.

“Don’t like that, do you,” I said, “Neither do I when degenerate males start panting at me. I wonder if I were to touch something else if it’d actually fall off.”

The wolf tried to yank away from Sterling. We crowded closer. Sterling told him, tone low, while he looked at the other two wolves, “Think, thinkfar farback. Maybe an old family story about a grandmother who brought a necklace here.”

“I don’t know anything about a necklace!”

“Perhaps if I picked your brain myself…” Sterlingtwisted, something wentscrich!and the wolf howled.

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” The wolf clawed at Sterling’s arm and swung at him, while his two buddies tried to find the courage to get around me, but the silver scar on my arm was like a cross brandished in front of a vampire.

Sterling shoved the wolf away.

They scratched up their dignity and retreated into the shadows of the porch from which they’d come.

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