Page 80 of The Weakest Wolf

The heavy scent of sex and stale sweat hits me full in the face. I take in the blonde woman with big blue eyes sitting up in bed, a sheet covering her chest, and beside the window a naked man who must’ve been the one staring out.

I head toward him.

“Alpha,” the woman murmurs in a voice I vaguely remember.

“Shut up,” I snarl, my focus on the heavyset shifter with dark hair, mean brown eyes, and a cruel mouth. “Where is Sierra?”

His lip curls. “What makes you think—”

My fist makes a satisfyingly meaty sound when it hits his gut. He sucks in a sharp breath and spends the next few minutes choking. While he’s busy doing that, I grab him by the shoulder and slam him to the ground, shaking the cabin.

It takes seconds to shift my right hand into claws, which I press tight against his throat. Three droplets of dark red blood instantly well.

I narrow my eyes on his reddened face. “Two seconds. That’s all that stands between you and death. One, T—”

“He took her to the cage.” The words burst out of him in a gasping rush, almost too fast for me to understand.

I don’t move my hand from his throat. “What cage?”

He swallows hard and more blood forms. “About twenty minutes east. The old alpha had a cage.”

Of course he did.

“Why take her there?”

The shifter swallows again, and blood dribbles down his neck. “She tried to kill him.”

I was right then. Revenge.

Instead of wasting time asking more questions, I get to my feet. Finding Sierra is the priority. Questions, revenge, and death to the rest of this pack comes after.

Behind me, the shifter drags himself to his feet with a groan. “That was hours ago. If you think she’s still alive, then—”

I turn, grip his head, and jerk sharply to the right. Bone crunches. The woman on the bed screams, and I let the shifter’s body fall heavily to the ground before I stalk out of the cabin.

Driving would get me there faster. But with no idea where I’m going other than east, my wolf nose will mean I won’t lose my way—or get lost on the way.

Shifting takes seconds, and after I’ve shaken off the ripped and torn remnants of clothes from my body, I point my nose east. There. Amber and peach. Sierra went that way.

Three other scents, all of which I recognize from meals in the dining room, merge with hers.

When a cabin door opens, I spin around and growl. The door slams shut again. But then another creaks open.

I don’t have time for this.

Throwing my head back, I howl my fury into the sky. It’s as much for Sierra to know that I’m here and that I’m coming, as it is to warn the rest away.

The next shifter that opens their door dies. Instantly.

I let the wind cast my warning far and wide.

When my howl dies down, I wait. Nothing happens.

Sierra needs us. Let's go.

My wolf’s agreement fills my mind, and we turn away. In moments, we leave the bulk of the cabins behind. When I spot the single cabin near the forest, I know that’s where she is.

Feet from the door, I stop so I can shift because I can already smell her blood, and I’m going to need hands to get her out. Sierra is hurt, and badly from all the blood that I can scent. My shift this time is blink-and-miss-it.

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