Hunted (Pack of Dawn and Destiny, #1)(2)

Werewolves, like their wild counterparts, adore puppies. The Pack would do anything to keep them safe. And since I smelled similar to a puppy, it made me particularly appealing to hug to the already affectionate werewolves.

The downside was that they saw me more as a dog than a human, much less a female.

I’d made that particularly rude discovery multiple times in my years with the Northern Lakes Pack.

I held my phone high so I could see it over the muscles of Aeric’s arm. “Could we speed this up a little? I don’t want to be late for my shift.”

“You are too much of a workaholic,” Aeric told me. “You need to relax.”

“Mayor Pearl will complain if I don’t open the welcome center before eight,” I reminded him.

“The welcome center doesn’t fall under city management—it’s a privately owned business.” Wyatt smoothed his dark brown hair, which he’d gelled into a business-casual look for the day. “Mayor Pearl can’t do more than complain—and even if you opened the center up half an hour early, she’d complain anyway. I think she’d shrivel up like a dead leaf if she didn’t have something to be disagreeable about.” Wyatt snapped his teeth, producing a loud, clicking sound that would have made the hair on the back of my neck stand up if I wasn’t so used to the untamed power werewolves radiate.

“Yes, but I don’t want her complaining to Greyson.” I couldn’t help the frown of distaste that pulled at my lips when I said his name.

Greyson was the Alpha of the Northern Lakes Pack—which had become the biggest Pack in the Midwest over the past few years. He was a decent Alpha, but I wasn’t…fond of him.

I didn’t appreciate the way he had become the Pack Alpha, and his personality was a real drawback in my opinion.

“Whatever. We’ll walk you to the welcome center so the harpy doesn’t bother you.” Aeric finally released me from the bear hug, though he draped one arm over Wyatt and the other over me, pushing us farther down the gravel path.

I marched ahead, but Wyatt slightly tilted his head, his eyes going up as he listened to something my human ears couldn’t hear.

A moment later, my hunter senses kicked in, and I felt a werewolf draw closer to us.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

Aeric hauled Wyatt and me along with him as he turned around to face the speaker.

Wyatt straightened his shoulders and bowed his head—Aeric mimicking him—to the mild-mannered werewolf who was watching us with a bemused smile.

As a hunter, I wasn’t bound to the same Pack dynamics that had Wyatt and Aeric bowing, so I just grinned. “Hey, Hector. Is Ember around?”

Hector smoothed his precisely trimmed goatee. “I believe she is speaking to Greyson at the moment. Why, did you need something?” He looked deceptively casual as he slipped his hands into the pockets of his suitcoat, which he wore despite knowing it was going to be beastly hot in the afternoon. His suit was a dark navy color, which set off his russet-colored skin perfectly—that was probably the work of Ember, his wife.

I used my left foot to scratch an itch on the calf of my right leg. “I was just wondering if she’d heard from Chase. She said she was going to call him when I saw her yesterday morning.”

“Ah.” Hector adjusted his dapper red bowtie. “In that case I will be certain to pass on your wish to speak to her. I imagine she’ll drop by the welcome center this morning.” Hector smiled, making him seem even more benevolent than usual.

Standing about as tall as Wyatt, but with the mild manners of a professor, Hector appeared to the untrained eye to be less physically impressive.

I, however, knew from my training sessions that Hector could rip the door off a car with ease—which was how I learned it was not safe to hide from werewolves in any vehicle other than a tank. (And maybe not even tanks.)

But even if I hadn’t seen his strength myself, as the Pack beta, Hector radiated a soft kind of strength that meant people listened to him when he spoke.

I peered at Hector, trying to get a better read on him. “Thanks for telling Ember. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, why can’t we go with Pip?” Aeric asked. “Did something happen?”

“Just political red tape, I’m afraid,” Hector said. “We’ve received more complaints that the Northern Lakes Pack should split into two given its size. It seems the Alphas of the area let their envy get the best of them as they stubbornly refuse to acknowledge our Pack cohesiveness means we’d never survive such a split.”

I grimaced in sympathy.

Politics are the worst. I’m so glad I don’t have to deal with them!

“Now that’s a pile of trash if I’ve ever smelled one,” Wyatt said. “You look stressed. Have a Pomeranian Puppy Power-up.”

Aeric gently pushed me across the gap between us and the beta.

Hector smiled ruefully and shook his head. “As delightful as Phillipa’s powers are, I’m afraid they will not fix the problem.” He slightly nodded his head to me, but it seemed like the call of my puppy pheromones were too much even for Hector to resist. He patted me on the head as if I were a dog, and the tension in his shoulders eased a fraction.

Magic puppy pheromones—they are useful.

I heard the purr of a golfcart puttering down the road and peered around Hector, trying to figure out if I needed to move.