Page 8 of Wolf's Reckoning
I hadn’t shifted. Hadn’t begged. Hadn’t howled.
Not once.
I’d buried the need. The desire. Like always.
But I felt the aftermath in every inch of my skin—sore, hollow, stretched thin. Like something inside me had burned through and hadn’t quite regrown.
Still, there was no time for rest. No room for weakness. My father would be waiting to see his beta Lewis and me off for our journey to the Pack Council.
With my hair quickly braided and tied off with a leatherband, I pulled on my boots, grabbed my oversized charcoal-checked jacket with lots of roomy pockets, put it on over my cropped black tank, and pushed the jacket sleeves up to my elbows for maximum reach. After checking that I had everything I needed, I shoved open the door.
As I walked to his rooms, I kept the silent chant in my head. Let them talk about mates and alliances. Let them treat my womb as if it were a bargaining chip.
Let them.
Every time I endured a heat as an unmated shifter, I faced an agony that none of the males of my race would ever know. I wasn’t about to bow to anyone now. This wasmypack, and it would be best if they didn’t forget it.
The druid was nowhere to be seen, thankfully, when I reached my father’s chambers. Lewis stood off in the corner, his eyes on the pack outside. Dad was up and dressed and looked like he had been out for a run, but he didn’t appear better for it. I didn’t tell him that though; instead, I forced a wide smile and greeted him with a kiss.
“Hey, enjoy your run?” I noticed that Lewis had a small, compact traveling backpack and frowned. “You packed?” I asked.
He didn’t say anything—shocker—but he nodded once. I don’t think he disliked me; he was just…quiet.Reserved,my father called him.Thorough. Meaning he thought over every single thing before committing.
I was all for thinking things through; rash actions had consequences. However, when Lewis was mulling over something, snails crawling backwards would be faster to reach the finish line.
“The morning mist was refreshing,” my dad said,bringing my attention back to him. He reached out and clasped my arm. “Three days,” he mused. “You’re lucky your heat is so short.”
It was a testament to my inner strength that I maintained the smile on my face and kept my thoughts to myself. “Yes, I’m blessed,” I murmured.
“Why do you have no pack?” Dad looked me over. “You cannot appear in front of the Pack Council wearing that.”
I blinked. Looking down at my cropped top, combat pants, and boots, I glanced back at him. “This is what I always wear.”
Dad was scowling. “You need a dress.”
“I definitely donotneed a dress.”
Dad glanced at Lewis, who had been watching but had looked away so quickly that I was sure he had pulled an eye muscle. “Beta Lewis, you have daughters…tell my Rowen why she needs to wear a dress.”
I fixed my stare on Lewis, one eyebrow raised.Daringhim to tell me.
“It’s a long trek to the Council,” Lewis said instead. “Change later.”
My eyes narrowed. He hadn’t agreed with my father, but he hadn’t disagreed either. I sniffed. I admired his diplomacy.
The door to my father’s rooms opened, and the druid entered with a small backpack. “Rowen, you left this.” He held it out to me, and I almost didn’t accept it.
“You packed for me?” I asked him, opening the pack and seeing a change of T-shirts, underwear, and socks, along with a bag I recognized as my toiletry bag. No dresses.
“Pack Council meetings can take two days,” the druidsaid casually. “I wouldn’t want you to worry about your appearance.”
They weren’t being catty, but I was doubtful they were being sincere. I slung the pack cross-body, the single strap cutting across my chest. Not a full backpack—compact, tough, just big enough to hold what I needed and nothing more.
Lewis jerked his head to the door. That was basically a command to leave. I turned to my dad and reached out to hug him.
“Be gentle, Rowen,” he murmured in my ear, low enough the others wouldn’t hear. “Watch their actions, their expressions, see beyond the words they speak.”
I squeezed him tight. “I will.”
