Hunted (Pack of Dawn and Destiny, #1)(61)

I was caught halfway between a frown and eyes scrunched in confusion.

That wasn’t a random comment. He purposefully said that. But why? And what’s he getting at?

“You are able to settle arguments involving werewolves with ease,” he continued.

I relaxed. “That’s just practice. You just need a firm voice and enough false bravado to keep your own fear under control so they can’t smell it on you. Isn’t that right, Ember?”

Ember leaned into my shoulder but wouldn’t look at me—meaning she was receptive to affection, but she did not want to get dragged into this conversation.

“You’ve said before most of your hunter magic seems to come from your mother’s family. Do you know anything about the strains of magic from your father’s family?” Greyson asked.

“Not really? I haven’t looked into it. A hunter usually comes into her magic when she’s ten or twelve. Mom was able to recognize some of her powers in me and taught me about them, and I haven’t really had anything new pop up since then. Dad told me his family had some pretty wild stuff, but besides his gene for getting white hair in your twenties, he didn’t have any special magic. They were hoping I’d get my mom’s magic.”

Greyson was silent for a moment as Ember pushed her face against mine and thumped her tail on the ground. “No one besides an Alpha should be able to give wolves orders and have the expectation that they will be listened to in an argument. You do. Perhaps you should look into why that is.”

He reached for me, but just before his fingers brushed my cheek he abruptly stood up. “Regardless, the Pack will no longer ambush you in this way. You need to go sanitize your wound.”

“Wound? It’s just a bad case of friction burn,” I said.

“They made you bleed.” Greyson glanced at his wolves, who felt his gaze and instantly stopped playing and instead stood gravely, waiting for his command. “It needs to be cleaned.”

“Ah. Is that what you were sniffing when you first showed up?” I let go of Ember and boosted myself to my feet, groaning as my bruised side dully ached.

“Something like that,” Greyson said. “Have a pleasant evening, Pip.”

“Thanks.”

I watched him slip into the shadows of the trees, visible for only a few moments before I couldn’t see him through the underbrush despite my better-than-average night vision.

Wyatt and Aeric pressed against my thighs, then followed after the rest of the Pack that trailed behind the Alpha.

I waved them off, then turned around and found the very obvious path the wolves had left when they dragged me. I followed it back to my cottage, to a very belligerent Prince and Princess, who—in retaliation for kicking them out—had brought a live snake into my garage. It was one of their favorite things to do when I made them mad, so I was used to it.

As I swept the snake out with a broom, I pondered Greyson’s words.

Could I have inherited more magic than I thought? But I don’t feel anything magical about the stuff he mentioned. It’s all about the way you carry yourself. And I’m not convinced the wolves won’t end up pouncing on me in a few months after their memory of tonight isn’t quite so sharp.

I was certain I didn’t have any extra magic because between all of the “training” the wolves put me through, and with the extracurricular fun I encountered—like the feral Low Marsh wolf—any extra magic I had would have appeared by now.

I bet it’s just Timber Ridge. The place is overflowing with successfully changed werewolves, way more packmates with Alpha-like powers than they should normally have, and wolves with higher strength and drive than normal. I thought it was the water, but maybe it’s the lakes. Maybe they have magic in their muck?

I laughed as I put the broom away, until I turned around and realized Princess had caught the snake again and dragged it back inside.

“Princess—no! Stop that!”





Chapter 16





Greyson





I inhaled deeply, sifting through the scents of the forest.

It was late summer, so everything was ripe and green, creating a full scent that made it harder to pick up any undertones.

I could shift. As a wolf, my nose is stronger. But then the Low Marsh wolves would realize we’re investigating the potion issue ourselves, and right now secrecy is more important.

I impatiently looked up and down the border we shared with the Low Marsh Pack. They had a small territory, which meant we had just one shared border. But it also meant it was fairly easy to scent out anything on their lands if the wind blew just right.

“Anything, Alpha?” Hector looked up from his phone, and the wind tousled his dark hair, adding Hector’s faint scent of paper and laundry soap into the mix of smells.

“Not here.” I glanced at the top of the rocky cliff—we stood at the base, where a small stream divided the Pack lands. “We might have better luck up top.”

“Excellent, shall we?” Hector waited until I nodded before he ducked into the underbrush.

I glanced at the cliff before following, taking a more direct route to the top.

Hector had stamina for days, so he’d sprint around to the lowest incline and run up. I opted to hike up portions, jumping from sections of flattened rock to steep incline.