Page 46 of Unforgivable

Rhet

My boots crunch in the snow and ice as Thjis and I march towards the last house before we head back home. Ezra and Inuit stayed in town to keep digging out Ezra's many extended family members and friends, but Thjis and I left after helping the crews dig out the public spaces.

Barely any wolves spoke to us. That's fine. It lets me see who to watch for, who may be plotting to hurt my female more.

Does the RustClaw think we've forgotten who was there that night? Do they think we're dumb? Or, are they so dismissive of Lyri that they assume we don't care about her Shaming?

Not everyone ignored us. Some of the males on the patrol unit helped us out. They stood the closest to us while we worked to shovel out the community center and Main Street. Franco, Jeremiah, Micah, Dubois, and Kent, to name a few. None of us talked much. Of course, Dubois and Jeremiah never seem to speak.

Now comes the most challenging part of every storm; former Luna Gloria Macon Cristorsen. She gives grandmother's everywhere a bad name. Hell, she gives me nightmares to rival Sarj's. That old bird sees right through me. She's blunt to the point of offense and doesn't give two shits who she offends.

She's fun, though.

She tolerates Thjis and me because we aren't born pack. Neither is she. She's from one of the mountain packs. Not sure which. She lives out in the middle of the forest nearest to her mountains, which, for us, means no plows can get through. Which is why we're slogging through the forest carrying heavy shovels over our shoulders with snow dripping into our collars as it falls from the branches overhead.

The name of the game is, get in, get out, quick. Luna Gloria doesn't watch us as much as she glares angrily at the males invading her private property. It makes me feel as if a vicious badger is glaring at me, and it ruffles my wolf's fur to be scowled at by an elder.

"Think we'll be done by dinner?" Thjis asks from behind me. After a pause, he adds, "'cause the pup is sick."

I let myself smirk. He can't see it. "Maybe. We'll see what Luna Gloria has for us to do." Sometimes she has us do odd jobs around the house. It's a chance to get out of the snow.

When we 'round the last bend on the trail, I freeze. My wolf goes alert as we both take in the scent wafting our way.

Wolves. Wolves who aren't pack. Both Thjis and I abandon our shovels and take off sprinting the last hundred feet to the cabin. My eyes go grey and sharp to take in the scene.

Nothing looks out of place. Thjis takes up my weak side, both of us posturing to the hidden threat.

"No blood," he says grimly.

"Where are the bastards?" I murmur back. My eyes catch on a flicker of movement in one of the windows. "They may be inside."

The door slams open, crashing into the side of the house. Claws erupt from my fingertips as I snarl towards the petite, rounded elder in the doorway.

"Don't you growl at me, pup!" Luna Gloria snaps. Cold, rheumy eyes shoot arrows at us.

"Step outside, Luna," I order her. Is this a hostage situation?

Luna Gloria cackles. "Get out here before the alpha-blood ruins my pansies." On another occasion, I may find it funny that she's worried about her flowers buried under feet of snow, but I don't have time for amusement. Behind Luna Gloria, from the house, step out two young males.

Two sets of dark, wary eyes look us over. Black and grey tattoos swirl over the left eyes, down their cheeks, disappearing into their collars. They're younger, maybe Lyri's age, early-twenties at the most. Not quite grown into their adult size yet. No one moves, except for the still-chuckling elder, as we size each other up.

"Alpha-pup, meet my wee baby nephews."

Does being insulted by an elderly she-wolf mean we can commiserate with these foreigners? I relax, not because of Gloria's fabulous attitude, but because I finally realize that yes, these are mountain wolves.

Their tattoos don't match Inuit's... or Sarj's. Which means our pups are safe from these pups.

I watch Luna Gloria's kin relax when I do.

"Argus, Nian, come inside while the younglings shovel my walkway. I'm cold." Luna Gloria walks back inside. Her amusement is over now that we're not going to try and maim each other.

I look at Thjis. He sighs and spins around to wade back to where we dropped our shovels.

"She's a mean bitch," he growls out.

"No shit."

When Thjis and I start to clear the front porch a few minutes later, both young males come outside with shovels of their own.

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