Page 31 of Taken By The Wolves
“Don't we all,” she whispers.
***
When Finn returns in human form, complete with rumpled clothing that is damp from the forest floor and warm pink cheeks, we gather outside, easing the door closed so Scarlet can't overhear. We can communicate using our mental channel but it’s harder to debate and discuss that way.
“What did you find out?” Nixon says, focusing all his attention on Finn.
“Gregory's pack. It wasn't only one. The scent of them spread through our territory like they were hunting for something.”
“Scarlet?” I ask.
Finn shrugs and takes a long tug of beer from the cool bottle he grabbed from the table. “They wanted her, but we don't know if that was planned or if she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“If not Scarlet, who?” Nixon barks.
“I don't know. There was a human scent there, too. Female. I tried to follow it, but I lost it at the stream.”
Nixon growls, scraping his hands through his hair. “We can't leave Scarlet alone, but we need to investigate this further. I want to know who was in the forest, and what Gregory's pack is planning.”
“You think they'll attack?”
He stares into the tree line, his brows drawn low like he's hoping to look into the future. Gregory is the most unhinged alpha in the state. He tried to start a war with Hunter and his brothers. I wouldn't put anything past him.
The door behind us slides open.
“Is the food ready?” Scarlet asks, bearing a plate of finished muffins.
“It sure is, sweetheart,” I lick my lips hungrily.
We gather around the outside table. The muffins are warm, and they scent the air with the sweetness of vanilla, cinnamon, and apple. The plates are piled high with grilled vegetables and thick-sliced steak. The woodsmoke curls through twilight, whipped away by a burst of fall-scented breeze.
Wine glasses wait to be refilled.
“Where did you go?” Scarlet asks Finn. “Leaving the hard work to the rest of us and turning up when it's ready for eating.”
“Last-minute meeting about lumber,” he says, using his fork to stab the top steak. It drips juice, and my mouth waters.
“In the forest?”
“Is there a better place to talk about wood?”
She blinks. “I guess not.” But her gaze trails him, cataloging all the signs that might contradict his far-fetched tale. The leaf poking from the neck of his undershirt catches my eye, and I snort, but I don't brush it away. No point in drawing attention to it.
Nixon reaches for Scarlet's hand across the table, his thumb dragging along her pulse point; he kisses her temple when she smiles back, soft as a promise. Finn and I exchange a look, tension humming. Memories of last night and her release flood my mind, and I'm so eager to get through this part of the evening that I almost knock over my wine in my haste to assemble a plate of food.
The flush in Scarlet's cheeks intensifies as she eats and drinks, and a light sheen forms on her skin. Is she as excited as we are? Her scent intensifies, and Nixon's nostrils flare. When he closes his eyes, tension bunching his shoulders, I clap him on the back to jolt him from his lust-soakedfantasies.
Scarlet washes down the last of her wine with a slow grace and then glances between us. I lean forward and inhale her sweet, aroused scent, then ask her in a voice that's as low as the embers in the firepit. “You okay?”
She nods, breathing deeper. Alcohol, heat, and lust swirl inside her, releasing a steadily increasing heady perfume that tantalizes us all. The forest around us seems to draw closer. We've built this moment carefully, and there's no turning back.
This is a ritual as old as time.
We will claim her, but will it be tonight?
14
SCARLET
