And Luke? His scent, when I shifted down to search for it, led off into the trees where the roar of a chainsaw promised someone was gathering firewood. I rose back onto two legs and dressed before following my ears deeper into the forest. The shift wasn’t just a delaying tactic either. I already felt naked enough while wearing clothes.
By the time Luke came into view, the chainsaw was so loud it made my human ears ring. Which, I supposed, was the only reason he didn’t hear me coming and flee.
Or, no, that wasn’t the reason. I watched from the sidelines until he switched off the engine. “Honor,” Luke acknowledged, even though I was behind his back and out of eyeshot.
Right. Skinless noses. I guess I hadn’t snuck up on him after all.
The faint hint of gasoline melded with cinnamon as Luke swiveled around and paced toward me. My pelt pressed against the small of my back, urging me to close the distance between us.
But proximity had to be Luke’s choice. I’d asked for what I wanted once already and he’d rejected me. Grace had taught me that pushing wouldn’t change anything.
All it did was drive away those I loved.
We were still six feet apart when Luke initiated the conversation. “We need to talk.” He sank down onto the closest firewood round and patted the one beside him.
That was an ominous opening, but I trusted Luke. I swallowed then nodded. “Okay. Let’s talk.”
FOR ALMOST AN HOUR, Luke clued me in about skinless traditions. Long enough for the air to chill and for him to offer the jacket he’d taken off while operating the chainsaw. I pulled the stiff fabric close around me, inhaling the aroma I missed smelling on my own neck.
“You’re not saying much,” Luke finished, reaching up to scratch one of the scabs leftover from his battle with Victor.
I shrugged. “I’d gathered most of that already. The sword maiden stuff I know intimately. Pack leaders—you realize Ruth is the true alpha, if this clan could pull itself out of the eighteenth century?”
Luke’s blue eyes crinkled. “I got that message. I was thinking of weaning them onto the idea gradually. Leaving her in charge for a night, then a weekend, after which I might take an extended leave of absence.”
I laughed despite the quivering in my belly from the question I wanted to ask but was afraid to. “Great minds think alike.”
“So.” All this time, Luke hadn’t touched me. But now he reached out, his palm ever so slightly rough as it slid beneath my fingers. “Now you understand what you’d be getting into. I promise to never again try to use an alpha compulsion against you, but mating me still isn’t a safe bet.”
“Skinless power struggles,” I interrupted. “Fights with other clans. Blah, blah, blah. I get it.”
Luke smiled, but he didn’t end his recitation of caveats. “You should also know that modern wolves don’t do the biting thing. Our mate bond”—he tapped his head to ensure I understood what he was talking about—“that will come eventually as we build a partnership, biting or no biting. We can afford to take things slow.”
We could...and that would be the woelfin way. My parents had lived together for five long years before they’d been handfasted. They’d waited another three years before choosing to have me and Grace.
But skinless chose mates fast and permanently. Which, apparently, is how my own decision had been made.
It hadn’t even occurred to me what I was doing during that critical moment, actually. But I’d had plenty of time to mull over my actions between then and now.
The seed was sown back in that dank cellar when I accepted Aunt May’s deal, promising to let Victor bite me and to help tear Luke apart in exchange for a grace period for Carly. Yet, when the moment came to carry out the second half of my promise, I hadn’t done it. I hadn’t even wavered out of consideration for my woelfin-chosen name.
Honor. I was still Honor and I still had a pelt, but I wasn’t entirely a woelfin. Instead, I was a member of a skinless pack.
I’d decided that days ago, when I helped Luke rather than harming him.
So I used our joined hands to pull myself closer. Off my log. Onto his.
Our thighs pressed together. Spice curled around me.
“I don’t want to take it slow,” I told the werewolf I’d chosen. “I want you to bite me.”
Cinnamon-scented and luscious, Luke leaned closer and he did.
I HOPE YOU ENJOYED Alpha’s Hunt! The Moon-Crossed Wolves Trilogy will conclude with Stray Shifter, releasing this summer.
While you wait, why not take a quick side trip? Join Luke as he manages a life-or-death camp for unruly shifters in the prequel short story Thirteenth Werewolf, free to newsletter subscribers. To sweeten the pot, I’ll throw in two additional werewolf novels so you don’t have to come up for air for days.
Thank you for reading! You are why I write.
Never feed a stray shifter.
One week before the Naming Ceremony, Luke and I plan to slip away to ensure our clan will rally around their true alpha. But a full frontal attack delays our departure. In the process of fighting off the invaders, I accidentally adopt an imprisoned shifter.
How can I leave her behind once I realize she's a lone woelfin like me?
Unfortunately, two woelfins within a pack of werewolves turns out to be one too many. Strange problems crop up and our formerly unified clan begins fraying around the edges.
We have six days left to root out the problem and ensure everyone looks in the right direction when asked to select an alpha. Six days left to prove to our territory-hungry neighbors that attacking us is a death sentence.
Six days left to figure out whether the stray I rescued is out to ruin my pack.
Don't miss the exciting finale of the Moon-Crossed Wolves Trilogy!
Alpha's Hunt Page 19