Page 10 of Dutiful Wolf's Mail Order Mate

A faint rustle from the pack house caught my ear. I glanced up to see curtains fluttering closed, the flutter of movement suggesting someone—Madison—had been watching.

Fuck.

Shame joined the residual anger and heaviness of my limbs. I’d already messed up in that guest room. Now she’d watched the dysfunction of her new pack in our most feral, monstrous of displays.

Just one more stain on my tattered honor.

With a low, mournful howl, I turned and bounded into the woods.

I pounded through the forest, paws flying over fallen leaves and damp earth, every breath burning in my lungs. The scents of pine and fresh rain filled my nose, but they couldn’t wash away Madison’s meadow and sea spray scent still clinging to my fur.

Every fiber of my being wanted to turn back. To explain.

To claim what was mine.

The need gnawed at my insides, a visceral hunger I’d never experienced before. It terrified me. Infuriated me. I couldn’t open myself to that weakness when everything—the pack, my alliances, even Elise—was ready to shatter like glass on the floor.

I ran faster, muscles straining, heart thundering. Pushing myself until there was only the forest blurring past and the steady rhythm of my strides.

My path took me along our borders, skirting the stream that edged Crescent Hollow land before veering along the border we now shared with the bears. I noted a few places where the border markings needed refreshing. With our numbers so depleted, the task kept slipping.

A familiar scent reached my nose, pulling me up short.

“About time you showed up.”

I whirled, fur ridging along my back at the gruff voice. Wyatt, alpha of the growing bear clan, leaned against a tree with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

But the surprise came from Willow perched on a low branch above him. One leg dangled as she watched the scene with unsettling eyes. She felt wrong. Off, somehow. As if whatever those dark witches had done to her in service of Barrett Simmons or his hunter friends had drained a little of the life from her.

The irritation I’d tried to outrun settled over me with my shift back to human form. “The fuck are you doing out here?”

“Keeping an eye on things. Someone has to.” Wyatt pushed off the tree, scowling. “You planning on telling me why I caught a strange wolf scent in my territory?”

I frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Wyatt’s eyes narrowed. “You think I wouldn’t notice a wolf traipsing through land that’s mine? If you’re starting shit, Rutherford, I want to know. Now.”

“I didn’t send anyone into bear territory.” Though I had half a mind to, just to piss him off. Orion would be down. I probably should send Elise, let her fight out her problems more often. “You sure it wasn’t one of mine patrolling the borders?”

“You calling me a liar?”

“I’m calling you paranoid.”

Willow dropped from the tree, landing lightly on her feet. “Boys, please. Let’s use our words like civilized beings, hmm?” She glided to Wyatt’s side, laying a hand on his arm. “Rafe, the scent was near the eastern border, close to where your land meets Wyatt’s. Wyatt didn’t recognize it as Crescent Hollow or Dusk Valley.”

Wyatt grunted, mollified by her touch. I didn’t want to think too hard about that.

“Guess you’d better go check it out, then. And remember,” he jabbed a finger at me, “you keep your wolves on your side of the line.”

With that, he turned and stalked into the trees, Willow trailing after him with an exasperated shake of her head.

I glared after them for a long moment before shifting back to my wolf. My skin prickled with unease as I loped toward the eastern line, senses on high alert.

We’d had enough shit lobbed at our heads over the years. Marcus. Balancing relations with Declan and Crescent Hollow. Bears setting up shop and hunters trying to take our pelts.

Strange scents were not welcome when all I wanted was a normal, pleasant conversation with the she-wolf in my pack house.

The closer I drew to the spot Willow mentioned, the stronger the foreign scent became. It was faint, a trace clinging to bark and leaves, but undeniably wolf. Not one of mine. Not anyone I recognized from Crescent Hollow, either.

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