Page 54 of The Strongest Wolf

“The women are fine.”

“How many?”

How many do I need to kill?

“Ten. Or, well, eight now.” I don’t ask what happened to two of them. I can guess.

A thought crosses my mind, no doubt the result of a conversation a couple of nights ago. Years ago, enforcers fled a dying pack in Indiana. Was there some bad blood that means they’re now looking for revenge? “You don’t think they are—”

“No. No one has seen these men before. I specifically asked about Indiana, and the consensus is these men are opportunists.” Of course Dom would have come to the same conclusion. Probably long before I just did.

“Shit, Dom. Why aren’t you alpha again?” I ask, only half-joking.

“I like my sleep.” His tone is dry. “A peaceful life also ranks pretty highly.”

Says the guy who spent years living in warzones.

“Sure, you do.” I snort. “What have they been doing since the last time we spoke?”

Wood creaks. The sound is so painfully familiar to me that I know the exact spot Dom is standing on the front porch. Likely cradling a mug of black coffee in his hand as he stares out into the forest a few feet away from the house. A pang of homesickness hits hard enough to surprise me. “Watching mostly. So we went on that hunt you told me to organize.”

The growl that deepens his voice doesn’t surprise me. Dom lives for the chase as much as the next wolf. “And?”

“We caught two and gave them an explicit warning about what would happen if they didn’t leave.” Dom’s cool tone doesn’t change.

I remember him sounding the same when a sudden downpour cut short a pack football game and sent everyone else sprinting inside.

This is why you listen to the reports from more than one channel, Galen,is what he told me.Less chance of being surprised.

“And I’m guessing they didn’t want to listen?” I say.

“They did not.”

I’d almost feel sorry for those men if they weren’t fucking around with my pack. “And the bodies?”

“We left them behind, so the ones who took off would know what they were up against.” He pauses, and a sip confirms I was right about the coffee. “They took the bodies and left. We think they moved to the very fringes of town so we couldn’t pick up their scent, but they never left. They’re proving difficult to track.”

For Dom to say that means we’re not dealing with run-of-the-mill opportunists. Dom should have no trouble tracking them, not with his military experience and especially not with the rest of the pack backing him up.

When Dom falls silent, I stare into the forest as I consider everything he’s said so far. And everything hehasn’tsaid. Dom hasn’t told me what he’s thinking, but I know.

I’ve left the Hunts without its alpha, and these shifters, whoever the fuck they are, have now been in town long enough to take advantage of my absence.

If I’d been there, I’d have faced them down with the pack behind me and sent them running. I know all too well that some shifters in the world will only respect an alpha, so no matter what Dom and the others do, these strangers might not budge until an alpha makes them.

Maybe they believe they’ve stumbled onto a territory with a pack just ripe for the picking.

Or maybe this is something else.

My gut tells me this is something else.

“You said they approached the girls.” I prompt.

“Bethany came back from a run. Said they’d tried to grab her.”

While not a weak shifter, not by a long shot, Bethany is one of mine. An alpha protects the pack, and someone just fucked with one of mine.

A snarl rumbles from my throat. When my cell phone creaks ominously, I loosen my hold on it. “Whatdid you say?”

---