I had gotten halfway to the cover of the trees when the wind shifted and came around. The stiff breeze rustled the leaves and flung new scents my direction. I tested the air and received a surprise.
There was wolf on the wind this night.
Padding forward slowly, I avoided the spill of yellowed light coming from the rear of the house, the old bulb faded and dirt covered, reducing its range.
Why would a wolf be out here, I wondered while scanning the forest once more. The wolf was in there somewhere. I could smell them.
Staying out in the open for long wasn’t an option. Despite the large gaps between houses, a wolf as big as me would be spotted easily by anyone looking outside if they faced the right direction. Staying low, I darted across the open space and into the forest itself, the trees swallowing me up and hiding me from sight.
Now I was the one on the hunt.
The scent of wolf was stronger in the breeze now. Fresher. It wasn’t wild. The watcher was a dire wolf. Someone from my pack? A rival pack? One of the Lost? It was impossible to be sure just yet.
I bared my teeth wickedly, crouching low. There was one thing Idid know. None of the above options should be anywhere in the vicinity, nor should they be watching me.
That thought merged with an earlier worry. What if they weren’t there for me? What if they were watching Sylvie?
The edges of my vision turned a dark ochre, tinted by the rage boiling inside me. I was the pack alpha. No one was to be giving orders like this, not withoutmy authority. The elders might fear what Sylvie and her bloodline were capable of, but they couldn’t act without my approval.
Threat to the pack or not, if any of them tried to move against Sylvie without my saying it was okay, there would be hell to pay. And I would be the one collecting that debt. I was the alpha. I give the orders. Not the elders. Not Noel.
Me.
A gust of wind brought fresh spoor to my nose, enough that I could identify the watcher better. Dire wolf. One of my pack. And a flavor I recognized. Baring my teeth in a silent growl, I hunted.
Slipping through the forest, I was as silent as the night. Not a leaf out of place, nor a twig broken. I was a shadow flowing from one place to the next, stalking the watcher and turning them from predator to prey in the blink of an eye.
The other wolf had no more than a split second to realize the tables had been turned before I was on them. The night was split with snarls and growls from deep in the chest. Claws dug at hide, but we weren’t battling to the death, only for superiority.
It wasn’t even close. In under ten seconds, I had the other wolf’s neck between my jaws, pinning it to the ground with vicious force. Still the other shifter struggled, unwilling to give up until I bit down harder, earning a soft whimper and relaxation of muscles as the watcher displayed submission.
I dropped the midnight-black-furred wolf to the ground with casual disdain, watching as they got to their feet and walked in a slow arc to put some distance between us.
What the fuck are you doing here, Cassius?
I snarled, the growls and yips like a second tongue to me.
Cassius Horner was well-known to me. One of those who dissented against my leadership, he was Noel’s biggest supporter to replace me as alpha. Him being here was no coincidence.
The other wolf lifted its black snout into the air, sniffing at the scents before leveling a pair of yellow eyes with vertical pupils at me.
I’d ask you the same thing, but you’re the only one without an answer, it seems.
His message was perfectly clear. He knew I had been with Sylvie. He was saying the scent of her was all over me. It was also a subtle threat. He knew where I’d been, what I was doing, and he would tell others.
Remember who you’re talking to
, I snarled at him, my teeth fully bared and promising violence. I wasn’t about to let some upstart pup talk to his alpha that way.
I know who I’m talking to. The question I have is if you remember who you are?
There was no mistaking the challenge in that question. Was I the alpha of our pack, or a traitor who wanted nothing more than to be close to Sylvie?
In a flash I was on Cassius, pinning him to the ground before he could so much as blink. Cassius lay still, indicating submission.
I bit down harder, piercing skin. Only then did Cassius finally whimper and indicate he’d had enough. Instead of letting go, Itossed my head to the side, throwing Cassius away and ripping larger holes in his neck as I did.
I know exactly who I am, I snarled at him.
I am your alpha, and you obey my orders. Challenge me like that again, and you will never get up. Am I understood?
Cassius glared at me, full of hatred, but then slowly nodded.
And don’t worry. I’ll remind Noel of that fact. Personally.
Sylvie
The first sip of coffee the next morning had barely brushed my lips when the door rattled under a very perfunctory, business-like knock.
“Go away,” I said to my mug. I needed time alone. Time to process what the heck had happened last night.
What seemed like precisely thirty seconds passed before another formal knock. That repeated again, as I took a matching sip of coffee each time, trying to pry my eyelids open.
“Fine,” I growled on the third knock, getting up and going to answer it. That sort of persistence was unlikely to be random.
I pulled open the door to reveal a short man, perhaps all of five and a half feet tall, looking directly at me with a beaming smile. He wore a tan jacket that had to be warm in the summer, even before the three-piece suit I could see peeking out from beneath it. A thin-brimmed bowler hat topped his head, which he now reached up and doffed with one hand in a very professional manner, bowing slightly at the same time, brown eyes light and matching the smile on his face. The other handheld an old, worn black briefcase that was half lost among the folds of his coat.
“Hello.” I barely got the word out before he started speaking.
“Hello, my name is Walter Mayhew, LLP. I represent Mayhew, Mayhew, Mayhew, and Farnsworth. May I come in?”
Even an auctioneer would have blinked and needed a moment to process the torrent of words that came racing out of the little man’s mouth.
“What?” It was the best I could come up with on three sips of coffee.
“My name is Walter Mayhew, LLP. I represent Mayhew, Mayhew, Mayhew, and Farnsworth.” Pause, though I suspected it more for me than for him. “May I come in?”
He was so nice, so polite and even charming that I was already starting to back away from the door to let him in before I realized a rather important point. Despite the spiel, I hadno idea who he was. Nor was I in the mood to have more strange men in my house at that point, no matter how nice seeming.
I furiously buried the question about whether Lincoln was truly still a stranger or not. Now was not the time for that box to be opened.
“How can I help you?” I asked instead, making it clear I wasn’t opening the door for him. Not yet, at least.
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