Page 3 of The Wolf King's Mate

“Bye, Gorgeous.”

I rubbed my chest, hoping it would soothe my wolf’s fury.

It didn’t.

He finally left as I picked up the pace.

My wolf snarled at me as I started to jog. The sky was dark, so it’d probably start raining soon. We were in the stormy season, so that was unavoidable.

I’d be fine, of course. A werewolf’s magic prevented most sicknesses, and made us run hotter than most humans, so we were rarely cold.

“I know. We’re not going to mate with him,” I murmured under my breath to the beast trapped inside me. She and I couldn’t communicate with words, but we didn’t really need to. We couldsense each other constantly, regardless of which form we were in.

The tightness in my shoulders eased slightly as I jogged down the trail, focusing on my feet. Running wasn’t as good as shifting, for either of us, but it was safe. And my wolf did seem to understand our need to keep her hidden, thankfully. We could rarely shift, but she had never tried to force her way out.

I settled into my run, taking my favorite trail for the first time in two weeks. I rotated them without a schedule, so no one would know where to wait for me if they were waiting. They weren’t, but it didn’t hurt to be careful.

As my heart and feet pounded the dirt, my body relaxed further.

I was fine.

Life was good. Or decent, at least.

People would realize I wasn’t aging the way a human should in the next few years, but we had time. I would figure out a way to live among the humans without losing my mind. It would all work out.

And hey, things could’ve been much worse.

I could’ve had to work fast food, like some of the average-sized packs. Because Fletcher’s pack was so strong, we all worked for the Alpha King, maintaining the massive expanse of forest the human government had given us.

I could’ve been locked up and used for my gift, which I had to keep quiet even more than my wolf.

I could’ve been trapped and studied by either human or were scientists.

All in all, things were going well. I didn’t get to shift often, but that was okay.

I was?—

My nostrils flared as I caught a strong, male scent.

I smelled male wolves on the trails often. Saw them now and then, too. I never ran as fast as I could, and spritzed myself with the perfume often enough to hide my wolf’s scent.

But I’d never smelled a man that strongly before.

A wolf’s dominance was what made their scent stronger. My brother stank worse than most.

But this smell was really, really bad.

Which was far from a good sign.

I sprayed myself with perfume quickly, skidding to a stop as I heard branches break off to my right. Whoever the man was, he was being loud on purpose to warn me that he was there. He wouldn’t do that if he was going to attack.

And male werewolves never attacked women. We were humans. Weaker than them. Defenseless.

I wasn’t, of course, but he couldn’t know that.

I didn’t dare turn around, forcing my wolf to stay down. I tried to calm the pounding in my chest as I turned around, lifting my hands with the perfume clutched in one of my palms. “I’m just out for a run,” I said, ignoring the beat in my head. “My brother leads the Creek Pack. He taught me to cover my scent to avoid catching interest. I mean no harm.”

Despite my words and effort, my heartbeat didn’t slow.

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