He moved a step closer to me so there wasn’t much room between us as he inspected me. He glided the fingers of his free hand across my cheekbone—probably checking for damage. “How badly did they get you?”
“Not too bad,” I said. “It wasn’t until they dogpiled on me that they got any hits in.”
Greyson glanced at Lumberer #1—the one I’d hit in the face with the branch. “It seems you doled out a few injuries of your own.”
“Yeah, but I couldn’t stop them,” I said wryly. “Not like you did.”
Greyson squeezed my hand that he was still holding and gently slid his fingers down my quickly bruising side. “I’m an Alpha. It’d be a sad thing if I was easily overpowered by Dolph.”
“Good for you,” I grumbled. “I’m sure your parents are very proud.”
“Did you ever wonder if maybe you’re supposed to fight differently?” Greyson asked.
“Like in a family and not alone?” I snidely said.
“No. As in, perhaps your magic could be channeled in different ways from how you already use it.” Greyson licked the pad of his thumb, then moved it toward my cheek.
“Do not touch my face with that,” I said.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want your spit on my face!”
“You don’t know, maybe my spit will give you wolf healing powers,” Greyson said.
I rolled my eyes as I retrieved my daggers from where Kash had thrown them. “That’s not a thing.”
My hunter instincts stirred, and in the distance I heard the howl of the Northern Lakes Pack as they slowly closed in on us.
I turned in the direction of their howls. “They’re a lot farther than I thought they’d be,” I said. “You arrived way before them.”
Greyson shrugged. “I sensed you were in trouble first.”
I wrinkled my forehead as I sheathed my daggers. He sensed I was in trouble? Didn’t he hear my whistle?
Greyson stalked over to Dolph—who had recovered enough that at least his mouth was working.
“Y-you!” Dolph growled as Greyson crouched next to him.
“Me,” Greyson agreed. “You gave the wolfsbane to the wolf who died, didn’t you?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dolph ground out in pained huffs.
“You reek of it,” Greyson said. “You won’t be able to hide it.”
“S-so? Why should I get in trouble for using a potion?” Dolph huffed.
I strolled up to Greyson’s back. “Um, maybe because it’s illegal!”
“It’s illegal because the other supernaturals know if we take it, we’ll be stronger, harder to fight, and they won’t be able to stop us,” Dolph said.
“Wow.” I slapped my hands to my cheeks. “This is my first time seeing a real, live nutcase.”
“It’s true! I’m unbeatable with it,” Dolph snarled.
I shook my finger at him. “Uh-ah. Not so unbeatable. Greyson took you down with one hit. Even I can sometimes survive more than a hit from him.”
“He’s lost some of his sense.” Greyson forced one of Dolph’s eyes wide open and peered at his pupils. “It’s hard to say if that’s the potion, or a pre-existing condition.”
“I see the truth,” Dolph said. “The other supernaturals want us weaker! Wolfsbane will fix everything.”
“Wolfsbane will make you lose your mind. That was the whole point of it. Given how straight up evil the elves could be, why would you think it would do anything besides make you easy to subjugate?”
“Don’t waste your breath,” Greyson said. “You’re not going to get through to him. Who is your supplier?”
Dolph ignored Greyson and bared his teeth at me. “I should have eaten you when I had the chance.”
Greyson put his hand on Dolph’s sternum and pushed, grinding the wolf into the ground. “It was stupid of you to mess with the hunter, Alpha Dolph.”
Dolph attempted to laugh, but it came out as more of a choking noise. “Losing the hunter would show how incompetent you are.”
Greyson yawned in boredom. “Is that so? You’re lucky I’m not more incompetent, or I’d just kill you.”
“You’re stone c-cold.” Dolph tried to move his body, but I think he was still aching too badly because his feet kept twitching. “No wonder you can’t find your mate.”
Greyson lazily blinked. “Am I supposed to be upset by that?”
“Unnatural.” Dolph sucked air in through his mouth as he very obviously tried to control his spasming body.
“Maybe. Stay down.” Greyson grabbed Dolph’s throat and squeezed, making the other Alpha wheeze for a moment, then stood up.
He joined me as I took a few steps away, massaging the still tingling patch of my scalp that ached from when Kash yanked my hair.
“Is poking at your mate bond seriously the best insult he can come up with?” I asked.
“Most wolves would see my still missing mate as a failing,” Greyson said.
I squinted up at him. It was starting to get dark, but I could still read his expression well enough. “You have no control over finding your mate or not.”
“Yes.”
“But they would still blame you for that?”
“Yes.”
I dropped my gaze to his shirt as I puzzled through this revelation. “Wow. You wolves have some screwed up ways of thinking.”
“Something none of the hunters struggle with, as exemplified by Hunter Fletching.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.”
The Pack howled again. This time they were much closer—I could feel them entering the range of my senses.
“The Pack will be here soon.” I turned in the direction of their howls and glanced at the other Low Marsh wolves Greyson had laid low—they were still recovering and were nowhere near being able to stand based on the way one was curled up in the fetal position, and the other was emitting a high-pitched whine.
Jeez. He’s still just as overpowered as ever.
“Pip.”
“Hmm?” He was still radiating some of his Alpha intensity, so I was prepared for it when I turned around and was nearly nose to nose with him. Or nose to neck, I guess, since he was taller than me.
“You fought well, and I’m glad you’re not hurt.”
I stared up into his glowing eyes for a moment, relaxing when I realized he meant it.
He wouldn’t tell me I did well just to spare my feelings—he’d be more likely to rub it in.
“Thanks.” I chewed on my lower lip, then added, “And thanks for coming.”
Remembering his odd comment from when he’d first arrived, I awkwardly swung my arms forward and backward. “Hey, Greyson. When you said you sensed me—”
“Alpha!” Hector emerged from the trees, Ember right behind him—both of them in their human forms. They stopped abruptly when they saw Dolph and the other werewolves on the ground, and Rio, Aeric, and Wyatt—all in their wolf bodies—nearly slammed into the backs of their legs.
Hector glanced at Greyson and apparently had refined the ability to read minds. “Secure them,” he instructed. “I’ll phone the Curia Cloisters, and then contact the Fletchings and have them take these intruders into custody.”
The other wolves got to work, nabbing the recovering Low Marsh wolves.
Greyson remained at my side, any hint of his Alpha powers gone. “You were asking me something?”
“Nah, it’s not important,” I said.
Hector approached us, holding his cellphone. “Pip…”