I was not nearly so satisfied with Greyson’s answer—and Wyatt’s valid point.
If there is a reason…why isn’t the Pack telling other wolves? What is Greyson so deeply protecting?
*
An hour later, I sat at a plastic table, safely hidden from the hot summer sun under an umbrella, finishing up my french fries from our lunch.
All the Pack that had come with us to Magiford had swamped the place—a little diner-style restaurant set against one of the lakes, with a bunch of cute outdoor seating.
Since they finished eating their food—about twice as much as what I had ordered—they were exploring Magiford.
At a glance I could see Aeric and Wyatt standing outside the board game store Wyatt had wanted to see. I was pretty sure at least a handful of humans had figured out they were wolves, because a clutch of teenagers were standing on the sidewalk, gawking at them.
Apparently wolves don’t come to town very often, even in a place like Magiford.
Further down—on the lake side of the street—Rio and Aspen went into a gelato store, while another few Pack members were trying to track down a famous blacksmith with little luck as the blacksmith didn’t own a physical shop.
Hector and Greyson were talking with Lady Chrysanthe and a brownie with russet red hair who was apparently from the Night Court, leaving me to my own devices.
I was perfectly content to sit on my rear and eat—it was pretty rare for me to have any down time given all the practice the wolves wanted, and if I could have a hobby, it would be doing nothing.
But my good sense/desire not to be run down during said practice sessions was stronger than my desire to be lazy.
Maybe I should see if the fae who modified my gun has store hours right now. I could get some more ammo.
“Pip!”
I know that voice.
I stood up from my table so fast I almost knocked my water glass over and peered around.
Sure enough, coming up the opposite end of the street was Hudson.
Built like a bear with an infectious smile and a laugh that matched, Hudson meandered toward me, wearing his familiar blue jean overalls as he rubbed his bald head.
“Hudson!” I laughed, tears making my throat sting as I flung myself at the older wolf.
He laughed as he lifted me off my feet and swung me around. “Little Hunter! It’s good to see you again!”
A few of the Pack members—the ones standing at a crosswalk, attempting to track down the blacksmith—looked up when they heard me shout and turned in our direction.
Two of them took a few steps toward us, then stopped and looked at Greyson, checking with him.
My smile slipped off my face.
Ahh, yes. Pack politics.
Hudson was the previous Alpha of the Northern Lakes Pack and had abruptly stepped down and was immediately replaced with Greyson.
Hudson was still a decade or two away from retiring at the time, and when I’d relentlessly pushed for an explanation all I was told was that Hudson hadn’t done anything wrong, but he’d wanted to step down, and that it was all of his own volition.
Yeah. Right.
He’d left the Pack. His wife and Lynn—his daughter—left with him.
“How are you?” I studied his face for any sign of unhappiness, but his smile was just as warm as it always was, and the lines at the crease of his eyes and the depth of his smile lines made me think he actually was happy.
“Loving retirement.” Hudson took my hand and patted it. “The family and I joined a local Pack here in Magiford! It’s smaller than Northern Lakes, of course—no Pack in the Midwest is as big as Northern Lakes. But Lynn married the Alpha’s son and is expecting her first child—a little girl!”
I coughed, trying to get rid of the tight feeling at the back of my throat. “She’s pregnant?”
Hudson’s smile was bright and proud. “Yep! I’m going to be a grandpa!”
“Wow, I didn’t know,” I said.
The thought stung.
Lynn used to be my best friend. She had attended a ton of my hunter classes with me so I wouldn’t feel isolated from the others, and we’d been constant companions since I’d arrived in Timber Ridge.
But when Hudson left, she’d gone with him and dropped all contact with me. She never texted me back, much less responded to any emails or direct messages I’d sent her. Apparently our friendship hadn’t been as deep as I’d thought.
I shook myself from the selfish thought—Hudson and his family had been through so much. I was just a hunter their Pack had taken in, not actual Pack. Lynn didn’t owe me anything.
“She’s about ready to pop,” Hudson continued. “But the last time she heard me say that, I got a kick in the head, so let’s pretend I didn’t mention it. How are you doing, Little Hunter?”
“Fine.” I glanced at the Pack again.
Aeric and Wyatt had abandoned their game store and come a block closer. They stood across the street, waiting for a crosswalk to change.
The rest of the wolves looked back and forth between Hudson and Greyson.
Surprisingly, Greyson didn’t look like he was paying attention to his conversation with Hector, Lady Chrysanthe, and the brownie.
When I glanced at him he locked eyes with me. He was relaxed—his posture was too loose and uncaring. But there was an intensity in his eyes—he was listening to our conversation, even though he was almost a block up.
I tore my eyes away from Greyson and smiled at Hudson. “I assume you heard about everything that happened to the Low Marsh Pack?”
Hudson nodded and squinted in the bright sunlight. “I have. Sounds like you and Alpha Greyson handled it well. I also heard about you socking Hunter Fletching in the face. I was surprised; I thought Dulce and Santos taught you better.” He kept a disappointed look for about one second before a deep, roaring laughter ripped from him. “Dulce would have taken a rolling pin to that hunter’s noggin if she were still around!”
He wiped his eyes and straightened up. “Greyson told me the whole story. I gave him a jingle when I heard about it. I’m proud you used your position.”
“Yeah, hunter on hunter violence is totally something to brag about,” I joked.
Hudson gave me a funny look. “You might have gotten off because you’re a hunter and you attacked another hunter, but the others didn’t step down because of that.”
“Yeah, it’s because I hit him so they didn’t have to,” I said.
Hudson shook his head. “Not quite. It’s because you were the one who stepped in. You owned the situation, so they could fall in line.”
Now it was my turn to be confused. “I’m a hunter, not an Alpha, Hudson.”
“You’re not,” Hudson agreed. “But it seems like you still don’t quite understand your position in the Pack.”
Because there is no position. They’ve made that abundantly clear.
“I’m not really Pack, though,” I pointed out.
For a moment, Hudson looked older, and there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Pip…”
I felt a familiar presence approach from behind, and Hudson immediately clamped up.