His voice was low and raspy—that bedroom voice that made me shiver. “It should mean something. We’re the Weston pack.”
I scarcely breathed. The silence became so deafening that sunrise would have sounded like a volcanic eruption. After a few smooth strokes of his hand that warmed my skin, Austin crawled outside to allow me to get dressed. I rolled to my side and felt around for the lantern as he zipped up the tent. When the light switched on, it threw my shadow against the smooth lining, piercing my eyes. I fumbled around in my small bag for some clothes.
If we were meeting a Packmaster today, he was just going to have to accept me in a pair of jeans and my strapless shirt. It was undeniably a cute top with elastic around the edges and turquoise patterns mixed with black flowers. Summertime in the South was nothing to mess around with; I’d just thought we’d be sleeping in a hotel with room service and movie channels.
I didn’t pack for BFE at four in the morning weather.
The hollow note of a wolf’s howl sounded in the distance and goose bumps rippled up my arms. “Austin?”
The tent zipped open quickly. “Get out. Come on, let’s go,” he said hurriedly, grabbing my bag and hauling ass.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, hopping in place and slipping on my sneaker.
“I marked the property and some sonofabitch is on it. There are too many rogue Shifters around these parts, so I’m not about to go after him and leave you sitting in my car by yourself. Lexi, dammit,” he chastised, yanking my arm so hard I stumbled. My left shoe wasn’t all the way on, but I managed to make it to the car in record time.
Once the doors shut, he rubbed his face and I looked around, noticing how quickly the yellow and lavender colors filtered through the branches overhead. The sublime beauty of early morning could rarely be matched in my eyes. I preferred mornings over sunsets because beginnings are always better than endings, even if you don’t know what the day will bring.
His bright eyes were sharp and alert, but more relaxed. “You hungry?”
“Now that you mention it, I’m starving.” My stomach gave an angry growl as if to agree.
He reached in the back seat and handed me a stick of jerky. I tore off the plastic wrapper and nibbled on the end. It wasn’t half bad, although it was a little greasy.
Austin frowned.
“What’s wrong? There’s plenty if you want some,” I offered.
“That’s not what you’re craving, is it?”
I held his glance and his crystal-blue eyes captivated me in the morning light. “No, but it’ll tide me over until breakfast.”
“Why did you buy so much of it?”
I shrugged. Who knew why I bought anything edible from a gas station? “At the time, it sounded really good. What’s the big deal?”
“You’ll know when you figure it out,” he said with a frustrated sigh. “Try to think of what it is you’re craving and I’ll have it for you next time. You’ve got a picky wolf.”
“Tradition? Or does the wolf like a little snack after walkies?”
He cut me a hard glare. “This isn’t a joke. Being a Shifter is an honor. We get enough shit from some of the other Breeds, I don’t want to hear it coming from you. There are a lot of prejudices, and many of ’em treat us like we’re the lower end of the totem pole. Someday I’ll tell you what they used us for.”
“Sled dogs?”
He leaned over and restrained every spark of anger until it only glimmered in his eyes. Austin was nose to cheek with me and I lowered my eyes, feeling immediate guilt for my predawn sense of humor, not to mention his alpha power flowing over me like a punishment.
“Slaves. We were chained, whipped, beaten, slaughtered, raped, and the wolf packs were used as guards or bloodhounds. We were forced to kill and do other people’s dirty work. It was before our time, but there are many from that era who are still around. Ivan is one of those men, so be careful what you say around him. We’re not immortal, but some Shifters are hundreds of years old.” His voice softened, and he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“I’m sorry, Austin. You know I’d never be disrespectful if I knew all of that. I’ve just been having a hard time dealing with this and I didn’t think it was off-limits to make a few jokes.”
A grin slid up one cheek. “We joke all the time, Lexi. I just want you to keep your nose out of trouble when we’re around other packs,” he said, tapping my nose.
The engine growled to life and by the time we hit the highway, I’d put away three sticks of beef jerky.
***
After a quick breakfast detour for sausage biscuits and black coffee, we pulled up to a majestic ranch house. Ten acres of cleared land surrounded the property, and there was a red riding mower off to the right.
“Ivan’s living it up,” I said, admiring two bright red sports cars on the left side of the house.
Austin parked behind them and cut off the engine.