Page 125 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

If she’d been a wolf, he would’ve kissed her.

However she’d been a seventeen-year-old unshifted pup and he hadn’t wanted to have his ass kicked by her pack and his for misbehaving. So he’d turned his attentions to those women who had shifted, but he hadn’t forgotten the spark in her eyes. Or the dare to break the rules.

She wasn’t a pup now.

Her dark hair gleamed in the sun as she walked over to a group of women. Vampires, unless he was very mistaken. He stared at her a little longer, willing her name to appear in his mind. Had he ever bothered to learn it? Or which pack she was from? Or had he just noticed her legs and her laugh. While the legs hadn’t changed, she didn’t seem to be smiling the way she once had.

“Dude,” Ben snapped his fingers in Owen’s face. “Is your father going to find you a mate this time? Are you even listening?”

Owen blinked and shook his head. Ben had found him almost as soon as he’d arrived. While they’d been close when they were younger, this newfound attentiveness put Owen’s back up. No doubt Ben had been told to watch him. “Yeah, probably.”

And he had no intention of following that edict. If he found a mate, it would be one of his own choosing. His gaze flicked to her, and he tried not to be mesmerized by the way she walked.

He wasn’t here to find a mate. He was here to find people who might be interested in forming a new pack because he wanted out of his father’s. He needed supporters before he could even ask for a territory. That bit would suck because finding a pack willing to cede land would be difficult, but he had a few in mind. Then there was the very practical problem of finding work in that area.

He pushed that thought aside. One step at a time.

Ben wouldn’t support him. He was happy blindly following rules and tradition. He had a nice comfy place in his pack and hung on every word Owen’s father said. Ben would not upset his life because Owen was done with his father’s obsession with clinging to archaic tradition. Other packs were more progressive. It should be simple to petition to move—like most people did—but his father wouldn’t allow Owen to leave and he’d been punished for even mentioning leaving.

As second son he’d never lead the pack, but he was supposed to support his father and brother in everything. That support didn’t run both ways.

“That’s all you’ve got to say?” Ben pressed.

Owen glanced at Ben. Whatever he said would make its way back to his father. Ben spread gossip faster than butter melted in the sun. “Yeah.” He shrugged as though it meant nothing to him but stepped away trying to end the conversation. “Whatever my father wants.”

The woman laughed, and the sun caught her hair making the black shimmer blue like raven wings. Why couldn’t he remember her name?

Her smile fell away as fast as it had formed. Her head moved as though she was scanning the gathered wolves and vampires. Did her gaze settle on him or glide past?

He needed to go over there and say hi. Would she be mortified? Or had she totally forgotten him? As much as that stung his ego that would make things easier. Funny how he could remember her, but not the women he’d hooked up with at the last gathering.

Owen took another step away. He didn’t want to spend the whole gathering chatting to Ben, but he would have to watch his back and make sure he wasn’t followed. “I’ll see you round.”

He had other people he should speak to, but no idea how he would broach the subject of forming his own pack. Or who’d actually support him, and who’d tell his father to win favor. It wasn’t only five wolves he needed support from, he also needed two vampires. All packs had at least two for protection.

She turned and her gaze caught his. Her lips parted.

Oh yeah. She remembered him.Damn.

Now he was going to either have to ignore her and pretend he wasn’t interested, or he was going to have to admit she’d left such an impression that he couldn’t remember her name.

Maybe he’d never asked. That sounded about right for him five years ago. Names didn’t matter when midnight runs ended up in human form on the forest floor. She hadn’t been running—a small mercy otherwise he might have made an ass of himself. This time he knew better. This year he needed names.

And he’d start with hers.

Owen nodded and walked over.

A couple of the other women she’d been talking with noticed his approach. They regarded him coolly before turning away with a few muttered words not even his sharp hearing could pick up, before leaving her alone.

He stopped a few feet away and grinned. “Hi. I think we met last time.”

She nodded. “Possibly.”

Was he here to say hi or was he hoping for something more? That was part of the fun of the gathering. It was a chance to meet people and find a mate. Not that he was here to do that. He couldn’t have a mate if he didn’t have land. And he’d be damned before he accepted whoever his father picked out just because it was strategic.

“I’m Macey.” She offered her hand as though they’d never spoken.

He clasped her hand. Her skin was warm, but she didn’t smell of wolf the way he’d expected. There was no earth and musk, instead her skin smelled of hot steel and honey. “Owen. I think I owe you a kiss.”

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