Page 56 of Wolf Hunter

Which seems like a lot of crap, considering he’s warned me to keep in touch with him throughout the day. Dirty hypocritical wolf.

Unfortunately, the thought is accompanied by a swell of affection.

Emily turns, clearly letting me know I’m not a threat to her, and walks in the opposite direction. So I’ve lost my distraction, but it leaves me with a whole new set of issues. Such as tracking down a man who doesn’t want to be found in a house full of literal wolves.

Luckily for me, as an assassin, I have a specific set of skills. Tracking down my targets is one of them. I also have the ability to sneak in and out of the room unnoticed, even with the pink hair.

I find my way outside easily enough. The other wolves don’t care enough about me to give a damn what I’m doing—that’s Reid’s job—and since he’s not around, slipping out the door is as easy as pie.

Even better are the deep boot prints I find in the snow leading away from the house and down the mountain. Crouching low, I analyze their size. By Reid’s weight and height, the length and width of the prints make sense.

You know what they say about guys with big feet, right?

They leave big tracks in the snow of course.

It’s very quiet outside. The twilight breezes have withered away to nothing, and the last remaining leaves clinging stubbornly to the tree branches overhead are still. Nothing stirs outside beyond the crunch of my own footsteps.

Time for me to finish this and collect on what I’m owed from the coven. Then I’ll be free to find Carmen on my own terms, and without the wolves sniffing at my door waiting for me to mess up.

ChapterSixteen

Reid

Sparing the time to take a trip out to the family plot feels selfish. Especially considering everything else I still have to do. With the tensions rising, and each day spent putting out little fires everywhere, I shouldn’t rest for even a moment.

I need to breathe. I need to find some way to come back to myself before I float away into nothingness.

And visiting mother?

Can’t be selfish. Right?

But we’ve found more breaches around the border of the territory. Once the rest of the pack returned from town, I took it upon myself to make daily outings. At this point, I should focus entirely on finding the magic to make sure we stay safe.

Because I sure as shit don’t want Tash to die to replenish the supply.

The longer she stays, the more often I notice the furtive glances in her direction. The way the females bare their teeth at her. How they seem to be both envious and impatient.

Instead of dealing with my immediate issues, I shlep through the snow toward the old cemetery where my parents are buried next to each other like one final cosmic joke.

If Mom knew where they laid my father’s bones after his death, she’d be furious. Hopefully, since she’s dead, she doesn’t care; but if she were alive, she would have made someone else take her place and happily murdered them to make it so.

It was probably my brother’s idea to have their plots side by side.

At least it makes for one easy trip. I can visit them both at the same time, to smile at one and spit on the other. I haven’t been up here for the last six months. It hurts too badly. Each visit reminds me of everything I’ve lost, and the giant chasm between now and where I want to be.

The snow crunches underfoot, a layer of ice atop the puffiest flakes I’ve ever seen. A quick trip up the mountain for a little bit of air, and the privacy feels like the greatest gift of my life.

Tasha will probably love it up here—the freedom, the wind shaking the bare limbs of the trees, and the silence of those who have passed.

Or maybe she’ll find it morbid. Macabre. That’s why I keep those thoughts to myself. Because people tend to think the worst of me. My effectiveness as the alpha depends on my reputation. Any sign of weakness, and resentment forms.

Even if my reputation isn’t entirely true.

Between my father’s upbringing and the whispered stories around my family, the beliefs and opinions about me basically built themselves.

I come to the crest of the hill, with the vista opening up around me. A cloudless blue sky dominated most of the day, and twilight now turns everything a soft, dreamy shade of gold.

It’s been so long since she died, and everything still feels different. Will I ever recover? Will I ever be able to make it through a day without her memory hounding me?

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