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Chapter Twenty-Five
Miles
“Uncle Miles, quit hogging the ribs!” If it wasn’t for Rylie, Archer would have launched himself across the table from me and the serving platter of ribs I’ve somehow managed to keep all to myself and hit me.
“Sorry, bud, your dad said help yourself, so I am.” Licking my fingers, I reach out to grab another smoked rib only to have Mason steal the platter from me. “Hey!”
“I grew up in the same house as you, Miles. You know how to share,” he snaps.
“Will you two please stop?” Rylie interjects.
“It would be easier if you quit inviting him here to eat,” Mason grumps.
“I don’t want Miles to go hungry.” Rylie passes me the platter filled with steaks with a smile while my brother snorts.
“Uncle Miles is a good cook. He makes the best barbecue chicken wings, Mom.”
“Oh?”
“You still have a lot to learn about each of us, Sis.” Teasing, I dive into the juicy cut of meat.
“We need to discuss that scent we picked up on last night.” Mason changes the subject.
“Mase, we’re having a family dinner. Can’t pack business wait until dessert?” I whine.
He pins me with his alpha glare. “No, Roper picked up on it heading higher up the face, but it was on our land.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t someone from the Bighorns just trying to be a pain in the as—backside?” We might be at peace with old man Cutler, but that doesn’t mean all his wolves listen.
We stick to our own places to shift and hunt during the full moon, especially on our family lands, while the Bighorns stay farther south of us. We don’t cross paths.
“No, Cutler and I have an agreement,” he explains … again.
“For now,” I grumble around my fork.
“The issue isn’t with Cutler and his pack. It’s with whoever thought the need to come onto our land.” He slams a fist on the table. That doesn’t stop any of us from eating. “It wasn’t a natural wolf either.”
“How do you know?” Rylie’s question causes us to pause with mouths full of food. I forget there are still many things she doesn’t know.
“Werewolves carry a different scent from natural wolves, Ry. Something in our genetic makeup sets us apart from the real ones. We keep our distance from one another.” That’s the best way I can describe it to her. I’m sure Mason will do a better job of it once he’s done with his one-track mind. “Your suggestions would be welcomed, Miles.” He turns to me.
“Will you chill out? We followed the scent until we got to the border with the national forest. Whoever he is, he didn’t stick around, so why worry about it unless he comes back?” I shrug.
“Because there’s a lone running around out there, and I want to deal with him.”
“Mase, look—” The ringing of someone’s cell cuts me off from reasoning with my brother.
“Excuse me.” Rylie gets up and heads into the other room. The three of us are silent, allowing us to listen in with nothing else getting in the way. “Alexa?” Her name instantly has me perking up. “What’s wrong? Slow down, I can’t understand what you’re saying.”
“What the hell?” Forgetting my meal, I shove out of my chair and hurry into the living room where Rylie’s pacing.
“I didn’t say calm down, I said slow down.” Rylie’s hand runs through her long, loose brown hair as she passes me. “Okay, did you call the police?”
“What?” My bark causes her to stop. Her mouth falls open as she continues to listen to Alexa.
“Okay, Alexa. Just stay in your room. Can you do that?” She nods. “All right. Don’t worry, I’m sending someone to check it out.” Hanging up, Rylie doesn’t explain, only walks past me to her hanging keys by the front door. “Miles, go to Alexa’s.” She hands over a key. “She said someone was looking at her through one of her windows, and now she’s freaked out.”
“You don’t have to say a thing.” I accept the key. “What’s her address?”
