What the fuck?
Jaime bends to get his phone, but before he can, I stomp it with my heel. It cracks. Doesn’t make me feel better.
Where the hell’s my mate? And what the fuck is Lochlan playing at?
I trip down the incline, cross the deck, and fling open the female’s back door. There’s a scream. I take a breath, slow my roll down the narrow hall. Una’s not gonna like it if she comes home and her place reeks of female fear.
Mari and Annie are huddled on the couch, Kennedy standing in front of them in a defensive stance. They’re all baring their necks.
“Where is she?”
“Don’t tell him,” Kennedy says at the exact same time the other two sob, “Chapel Bell.”
I roar, the wolf coursing up my throat. I swallow him down. There will be time for rage. Later. After I have my mate in hand.
There’s a footstep behind me. The females peek up. Jaime clears his throat.
His scent is in my female’s space.
Oh, hell, no.
I barrel out the way I came in, seizing Jaime and hauling him out the back door, hoisting him into the sunflowers growing around the deck. There’s a satisfying crunch.
Guess there’s a little time for rage now.
What the fuck is Una doing in town? Who is she with?
When I get my female, I’m tying her to my bed.
No wooing.
I am alpha.
She is mine.
And all this bullshit is gonna stop here and now.
8
UNA
“Killian’s not in camp.” Kennedy rushes through the screen door, letting it slam.
Annie’s having a panic attack on the sofa. She’s wrung her skirt to the point it’s wrinkled and damp with palm sweat. She’s not going to be able to make the mushroom run. She was cool yesterday, but having Killian howling outside all night long jangled her nerves. And they’re not steady on the best of days.
“Where is he?” I ease my backpack over my shoulders. I’ve carefully wrapped the jar of morels in a thick quilt.
“Old Noreen didn’t know, and I didn’t want to ask anybody else. I don’t smell him anywhere, though.” She squeezes Annie’s shoulder.
“I—I’m s—so sorry.” Annie’s eyes are tormented. She hates herself like this, but once the poison gets in her head, you can’t talk her out of it. Abertha’s calming tea doesn’t help. Even Kennedy’s weed doesn’t do much but blunt the worst of it.
“Nothing to be sorry about. We’re a team, right?” I hold out my fist.
She wrinkles her forehead.
“You bump it with your fist. It’s a human thing.”
She’s still hyperventilating, but she taps my knuckles.
“You gonna be okay?” I know she will be, but I worry. She’s tough, but her brain kind of has a mind of its own.
“G-go g-get ‘em.” She manages a watery smile. That’s my girl. A light breeze will knock her down emotionally, but she hauls herself back up every time.
“Are we clear?” I ask Kennedy, checking my phone. No new texts. About an hour ago, Shroomforager3000 said he was at the rest stop north of Chapel Bell.
“The males are all at the gym or the lodge. The patrols should be at the west and south perimeters. It’s now or never.”
“All right. I’ll be quick. A half hour there, ten minutes or so to make the exchange, a half hour home. I’ll be back way before dinner.”
“We’ll go down to the commons so if anyone’s asking for you, we can say you’re at the crone’s.” Kennedy peeks out the window.
“Has anyone ever asked for me?” I peer over her shoulder. The path is clear. I don’t scent anyone.
“First time for everything.” Kennedy holds up her palm, and I slap it.
“Keep an eye on Annie?” I ask her.
“You know I will.” Kennedy lowers her voice. “If anything seems weird, bail. We can sell the mushrooms another time. They’re dried. They’re not going bad.”
I lower my voice, too. “I’m a wolf. I’m not scared of a human man.”
“Yeah, but that’s not all that’s out there.” Kennedy and I exchange a look. We talk about this whenever she goes to her rented cabin to shift alone. There are still ferals outside our boundaries. Outcasts from the Last Pack. Humans who traffic in the fur trade. It’s not like it used to be, but the dangers are still there.
But not at the farmer’s market in Chapel Bell in broad daylight.
I give Kennedy the most reassuring smile I can muster, and she opens the door for me. After I hobble down the stairs, I force myself to walk at my usual pace. I look way too obvious when I hustle.
It’s not far to the garage, and the path is empty. I don’t run into anyone. It’s a beautiful afternoon. The sun is bright but cool, and a steady, mild breeze flows down from the foothills.
Liam’s not around when I reach the truck. He knows today is the run. I bet he’s going after plausible deniability. He really likes the moonshine I bring him back from town, but he’s not willing to take heat for us if he can avoid it.
I grab the keys from the corkboard in his office and go around back where the Ford is parked with the other junkers.
It takes a second to hoist myself into the cab. I don’t bother adjusting the mirror. It doesn’t swivel anymore.
Like I showed Annie, I really jam the clutch as I turn the key, and after a few wheezing false starts, the engine turns over. I give the dashboard a pat. She’s a rust bucket, and she’s temperamental, but she hasn’t let me down yet.
I head for town by way of the north access road. The two miles or so on pack territory are bumpy, and I’m jumping out of my skin, imagining I hear engines coming up from behind. I have to go slow because the asphalt’s busted with weeds growing in the cracks.
Road maintenance is not one of Killian Kelly’s priorities. He’s always fussing with energy efficient windows and solar panels, but there’s a pothole that could eat a lawn mower in the middle of our only road, and it’s been there forever.
Once I turn on to Rural Route 10, the ride is smooth. My hands are slick on the tacky steering wheel, and nerves riot in my belly, but I’m not as scared as the first few times I ventured into town. I’m not used to it by a long shot, but I can deal.
I am breaking pack law. Females are not allowed to leave the territory alone. That’s carved in stone. I don’t know what they’ll do to me if they catch me. I’ve never known anyone but Mari, Kennedy, and I to go into town without a male.
A few of the younger males, including Fallon, got drunk at a human bar one time. One came home reeking of sex. Killian beat them all to a pulp in the middle of the commons, and the one who had sex with the human got busted down to maintenance crew. He’s still not allowed to run with the pack at full moon. Fallon got off easy with an ass-kicking.
I’m smarter than them—I nearly scrub my skin off in the lake after I’ve been anywhere near a human—but I don’t want a beating, especially not in front of the entire pack. Not again.
I’m sweating bullets. My knee shakes when I depress the clutch to shift.