The frozen air licked at my skin as I walked barefoot down the porch steps, hugging my body. Cold air was merely a discomfort, and all pain was temporary.
As I drifted toward him, he walked forward and closed the distance between us. Fox had a mixture of black and silver hair he kept trimmed short. He had a thick nose, deep-set eyes, and three creases on his forehead from all the eyebrow raising he did. In human years, he looked like a man in his late forties, but in Shifter years, Fox was a man in his prime. An older wolf, but by no means a weak one.
He had a confident stride—a kind of swagger with each swing of his arms. When he finally stopped a few feet away, his blues eyes traveled down. “Your feet seem to be missing shoes.”
“And your head seems to be missing an ear.”
Irritation flashed in his eyes when he reached up and touched his mangled left ear. Some of it had healed, but he hadn’t shifted soon enough.
“Don’t try anything,” I warned. “My wolf will protect me.”
He laughed, and a cloud of breath escaped his mouth. “That’s rich. I’m afraid I’ve never met your wolf, but I’m sure she’s a sweet little bitch. One who’s never fought to the death like I have, so don’t threaten me with your animal.”
“We’re also not alone out here,” I said.
“Yes, we are. Your guard dog left an hour ago. Guess he’s not as loyal as they come.”
“If you did anything to him—”
“Do you know how long it took me to find you here?” Fox widened his belligerent stance and tucked the tips of his fingers in his jean pockets. “Your father didn’t mention a damn thing as to where you went. Your Packmaster has false plates on his car that aren’t registered, so all we had to go on was that you were in Texas.”
“We?” I flipped my braid behind my back and folded my arms.
“Me and Gil. Maybe you never noticed, but he was always more loyal to me than he was to Ivan. Your packmate got in a few good bites, but Gil’s on the mend.” Fox’s eyes drifted behind me and scoped out the property. “Nice place you’ve got here, Ivy. Real nice.”
“Why are you here, Fox?”
“For you, Poison Ivy.”
My eyes narrowed. “Don’t call me that.”
His laugh died off with a moan, as it often did. “It’s a fitting name.”
My eyes darted around, searching the woods.
“We’re alone,” he assured me. “My men have orders to stay back. I wanted to speak to you privately and give you a chance.”
Rage intensified within me like a hurricane. “A chance for what?”
He pulled his hands out of his pockets and squeezed his fists. “To come with me voluntarily. See, you have a choice. You can either join my pack of your own free will, or we can battle this out and I’ll take you, the land, and whatever women you’ve got.”
“There’s a child in there,” I hissed.
He waggled a brow. “How old?”
I slapped him in the face so hard that it stung my hand.
Fox kept his eyes shut for just a moment before settling them back on me. “Come with me and save your pack.”
“You’re a liar. No matter what I do, you’ll still come after this land because it’s something you covet. The envy in your eyes is greener than the grass below my feet. Don’t give me an ultimatum when we both know you’re going to fight my pack regardless. This is my family, and you’re not welcome here.”
With lightning speed, he reached out and snatched my braid, yanking me forward. I yelped and, in a swirl of magic, shifted into my wolf.
***
At three in the morning, Lorenzo awoke to an insistent pounding on his door. He threw the fur blanket away from his nude body and groggily got out of bed. Why couldn’t they call on William to settle their disputes? The banging sounded again and he cracked his door, holding it open with his right hand above his head.
“Unless someone has declared war on our land, don’t knock on my door at this hour.”
William’s brown eyes were wild. “I hit a wolf with my car. A Shifter.”
“And this is my problem because?”
He rubbed his face, panic rising. “It’s a female.”
Lorenzo swung the door wide and turned around to put on his black pants. “Lead me to her.”
They hurried down the hall and toward the stairs. No one roused from their rooms, as the pack had grown accustomed to late-night arguments or gatherings downstairs.
As soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs, they hurried out the front door. Cold wind bit against Lorenzo’s bare chest and he clenched his fists.
“I don’t recognize her from any of the neighboring packs, but… Jesus hell, I’m sorry, Enzo.”
“You better pray that she’s a rogue wolf.”
If she belonged to one of the local packs, it could mean trouble. The Packmaster would seek compensation or revenge. Her father or mate had the option of challenging the man who hurt or killed her, and it was a challenge that ended in death.
When they neared the BMW, William popped the trunk. Lorenzo walked behind the car and glared at William. “You locked her in the trunk?”