Page 33 of The Wolf's Mate

“You are literally impossible to talk to.” From seemingly nowhere, Hettie produces a small pillow and chucks it at my head. It hits my forehead before falling on the floor with a dull thud.

Hettie brings her hand up to stifle her giggle.

“You’re going to pay for that, Dove.”

She doesn’t have the chance to respond. In seconds, I’m out of my chair and snatching her up. “Hey!” she protests as I crush her body against mine.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you like picking fights with me.”

“Of course you would, you freak.” She thrashes against me, but not really attempting to move out of my grip. She does it because she thinks she has to and not because she wants to.

She’s enjoying this all too much.

“Are you going to fight with me every day, mate?”

My little Dove stares at me defiantly. Her nostrils flare, and her breaths come quicker. The smell of lavender blooms around her, intoxicating me.

“Maybe.”

“I sure hope so.”

Hettie and I are locked in a silent battle, but she is gravely mistaken if she believes I’ll fold. I don’t know what prompts me to get under her skin every chance I get, but she calls to me like a flame to a moth. I know getting too close will burn me, but I don’t think I mind.

Barking from the next room makes Hettie’s head snap around. “Grass?” she calls, stepping away from me.

Grass barges into the room, barking at the top of his lungs. The sleeping pups toss and turn in their cribs before cries fill the air. “Grass!” Hettie yells again, running after her dog.

Grass thrashes against the door, pawing at it with a low growl. I haven’t ever seen her dog act this way. He’s usually belly up, hoping for a belly rub. But this is…fear?

I tense. “Do not open that door,” I bark, but to no avail.

Hettie opens the door before I get my full command out, and Grass makes a beeline out. Hettie rushes after, chasing the damn dog. Has she learned nothing from the last time she attempted to chase Grass? Last time it led her straight to Michael.

A sick feeling has my stomach in knots. Something is wrong. The thought appears suddenly, just as Thorne bursts through the playroom door, eyes alert. The playroom is the only room in the cabin with windows looking out into town, so I know what he’s going to say even before he says it.

“The rogues are attacking.”

Chapter 16

Hettie

Grass rushes out of the nursery, and I react on instinct. “Grass!” This is eerily familiar. Me chasing after Grass, and him ignoring me. I didn’t like how it ended up the last time, and I doubt I’ll like it now.

At first glance, nothing seems strange besides the human woman running after her very loud and poorly trained dog. When Grass comes to an immediate stop, I sigh in relief and finally catch up with him. “You’ve got to stop doing that, boy. What the hell are you on?”

Grass whimpers and doesn’t calm down. He clearly wants me to see something, but I don’t know what I should look for. “I really wish you could talk,” I mumble.

That’s when I hear it. The sound of screams and howls coming from the town's square. Wolves the size of lions attack the unsuspecting shoppers. These wolves aren’t pack—why else would they be attacking us? They have to be rogues. Not just a few, but dozens.

It’s violent. It’s scary. And reminds me of my mortality.

My suspicions are confirmed when Thorne and Rip run my way. Thorne shifts; his body tears itself apart and rebuilds in seconds. A large brown wolf stands where Thorne once stood.

He howls, and Rip sprints past him. “Go!” he tells his second, and Thorne doesn’t hesitate as he rushes into battle.

“Hettie, let’s go.” Rip grabs my arm and pulls me to him.

“What are you doing?” Panic fills me as we move farther away from the battle happening below.

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