Page 62 of Crescent Warrior

The ones that would tell him how she didn’t think she could be enough for him. That all her work to make herself stronger, make herself better, would fall to the wayside when it came to him.

Even now, shame coated her throat as she realized that she was limp in his arms, unable to fight her wolf, even as she had fought her for years, staying away from him. When he was close, she was weak and she resented it.

“I want to join the hunt,” she murmured as he laid her down, pressing kisses to her throat. Her head tipped up and gave him more access even as she wished she could have control over her feelings for him.

“Damen said we could have time together,” he whispered, reasonably. “Don’t you think we deserve that? After being apart for so long?” He kissed his way up to her lips, teasing her there, taking tiny nips. “A little time to ourselves sounds great.”

“The pack needs us,” she argued, her hands not listening to reason, sliding up his back, caressing the muscles that were bunched there as he held himself over her. “We should…” she trailed off in a moan, parting her legs to make room for him.

“Just a little longer, my Lyta,” he murmured, like the devil, in her ear. Without conscious thought, she nodded, deepening their kiss.

Alex’s head swept up, inhaling deeply as he caught a faint whiff of something unfamiliar. It held a similarity to Jason’s Werewolf pack, but at the same time, it was different.

Silently, he conveyed a message across his bond with Michael, dropping low on his haunches in the brush of the forest. Within minutes, Michael found him, snuffling nearby and lifting his head to the air as well.

They glanced at each other, knowing they were smelling the same thing. There was something close that was oddly familiar, a tingling in Alex’s spine making him want to run headlong toward it, even as he knew that was insane. They had no idea what it could be.

Excitement flittered through them as they slowly circled the area, sniffing the trees that were marked by a territorial pack. Keeping close to each other, they widened their circle, pushing the boundaries until they spotted a wolf prowling nearby.

Dropping low, they watched him while staying perfectly still. He was looking around, seeming to sense them, but not able to catch their scent.

Not for the first time, Alex was grateful for the gift that kept them invisible to other Werewolves. Without a scent, their lives had been saved numerous times, allowing them to disappear without a trace. The wolf dropped his muzzle to the ground one more time, giving it another sniff before giving up and racing off away from them.

Michael glanced over at him and he waited patiently for the scent to be far enough away from them before starting a slow, meandering path in the direction the wolf traveled. They hoped they could follow him back to where the rest of his pack was. If he had a pack.

Even if he was by himself, Michael and Alex were sure that he was a Werewolf. His scent told them as much. Taking their time, they kept to the thicker foliage, hiding themselves as best as they could so their lighter coats couldn’t be seen.

As they neared an area where the scent of the Werewolf was the strongest, they picked up on other scents; other Werewolves. Wary now, they stayed where they were and watched as three wolves gathered in the middle of a clearing, bumping heads and playfully nipping at each other.

They trotted off toward a cottage, similar to the one Michael and Alex were staying in. When they were near it, they transformed. Alex’s breath caught in his throat as he watched the two males and one female shove each other playfully as they entered through the door, laughing and chatting.

Alex couldn’t stop staring at the big male on the right. He looked so familiar. Too familiar. Michael glanced at him and he knew immediately what he wanted to do.

Padding away softly, they took their time and picked their way back until they were far enough away they couldn’t smell the Werewolves or hear their voices. Transforming, he faced Michael, watching for his reaction.

“That man,” the male murmured, shaking his head, eyes on the ground. “There’s something about him.”

“He looks like you. Like me. He looks like us, Michael.”

Meeting his gaze, the other man narrowed his eyes, acknowledging for the first time that they did look like each other. Their resemblance was uncanny.

“He could be related to us. He could be family.”

Alex felt his heart leap. Maybe he was born a Werewolf. Maybe Jason was wrong. He didn’t know his father, his mother only told him that she moved to America from Italy when she was pregnant with him, after her family spurned her.

When they first arrived, he had even wondered if he would have time to go to Italy to search for his father. What if he didn’t have to? What if he found someone he was related to here?

For his entire life, he longed for a family. A real family. His mother raised him, but she was cold and distant in a way that made him crave the kind of love that Selene and her family shared.

He knew he hadn’t only fallen in love with her because of who she was, nurturing and giving where he knew he could be cold and aloof, but also because of the ties and connections she came with.

He adored her family, wanted to be a part of it, and now, with the possibility of another member of his family surfacing, he felt his hope soar. He tried to push it down, knowing that even if he found another relative, they might not be inclined to accept the bastard son of a woman who ran away from them.

But what could he possibly lose by trying? Excitement skittered through him, even as Michael shook his head adamantly.

“No. Jason said that we shouldn’t approach anyone until we speak to him.”

“Listen,” Alex whispered urgently, gripping Michael’s arm in a tight hold, “I know we’re related too. You see the resemblance.”

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