ArcherThe last thing I expected to find when I came to the council meeting today was a mate. Yet, here I am, watching the woman my wolf has claimed tremble like a leaf in a strong wind and aching to go to her.I don’t though. Not yet.She’s so terrified.Vulnerable.I’ve seen fear like that before. I know fear like that.And I wish like hell I wasn’t part of the cause of it.“I can’t do this,” she says in a light, soft voice, wrapping her arms around her chest. She’s wearing a t-shirt and shorts that are far too big for her—a man’s clothes, probably Ridge’s, and fuck if that doesn’t send a hot wave of jealousy rippling through my wolf. “I don’t want to do this. I can’t be a shifter.”Ridge stands and holds both of his hands out toward her, palms down like she’s a wild pup who needs calming. “Sable, you are a wolf. It isn’t something you can decide not to be.”She shakes her head, her mussed golden hair flinging about. I can see the whites of her eyes as her gaze darts around the too-
SableArcher’s golden, boy-next-door good looks are even more devastating in the oranges and purples of sunset. I have to work hard to focus on his words and not get lost in his brilliant green eyes that remind me of fresh cut grass. He’s taller than Ridge, though not by much, but his presence isn’t as imposing. He doesn’t loom like the other wolves. He doesn’t wear his beast as close to the surface.Despite everything that’s happened, I’m drawn to him. It’s a stupid thing, really. I shouldn’t be drawn to him. I should be drawn to those damn woods and getting the hell away from this mess before I’m too deep to get out. But something about the weight in his voice tells me he’s not lying. He’s not feigning empathy just to keep me from leaping off this ledge and racing away into the sunset.Archer’s been through some things. Some really heavy things. The same kinds of things I have.They… hurt me. When I was young.I can’t help but wonder at his story. What did the witches do to him that
As he zips up the two large packs, Ridge remarks, “This smaller bag is yours. My friend Amora donated some clothes and necessities for you. She’s probably a bit bigger than you, but they should work.”I nod, wondering who Amora is. Is “friend” just a euphemism? Is Amora his girlfriend?The idea that he might belong to someone else makes me crazy with an unreasonable sort of jealousy, and I bite back any desire to question him about her. I’m fragile enough without adding excess fuel to the fire.Leaving the bags by the door, Ridge leaves the room one more time. When he comes back, he’s got a small bottle and a few white pieces of gauze in his hands. He approaches me with smooth, even steps, as if wanting to make sure he doesn’t scare me.He doesn’t though.He’s broad and imposing, but for some reason I’m not afraid of him, even if his presence always seems to take up the whole room.When he reaches me, he kneels on the hardwood floor in front of me, grimacing slightly as he takes in the
RidgeIt’s been a while since I last ran—the full-out sprint of a wolf with a mission or a wolf at play, sprinting through the mountains as if every hill is a racetrack.It’s a freeing kind of run, cosmic and powerful.When I’m on patrol, I keep my steps measured and even. It’s too easy to let the landscape slide by without seeing potential threats if you don’t stop and smell the fucking roses, as my father used to say.My paws thud against the ground and the cool mountain wind whips past my ears. Archer and Trystan flank me, their keen gazes aware of our surroundings even as the trees and rock flash by at lightning speed. If I had to be alone in the wilderness for any indefinite period of time, I have to admit, these two men aren’t the worst backup a wolf could ask for. They’re both strong and smart. Trystan’s attitude problem makes me want to gut him with my bare claws sometimes, and Archer bears more pain than I think he realizes he lets on to the world. Between his abduction as a
Ridge I press my forehead to the wall just inside the front door, letting all the weight of my body ooze against the cool wooden planks. My knees damn sure can’t hold me up anymore.The cabin is dim and musty, as if the windows haven’t been opened for months. I’m in what seems to be a living room area, although I didn’t take much time to look at it when I walked in.My skin is flushed and hot as if I have a fever, and I consider going to see if there’s a freezer I can shove my head in. Pressing my hands to my cheeks, I focus on taking a couple of deep breaths and calming the fluttering in my stomach.I can’t seem to catch my breath, and I feel hot and achy all over in a way I’ve never experienced before. I can’t get the sight of Ridge’s body out of my mind. Every single part of him is etched in my memory, and the feeling curling between my legs begs me to keep replaying that memory over and over.Even when I tried to look away, to drag my gaze away from him… there were Trystan and Ar
SableTrystan makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like distaste, but Ridge shoves him toward the door. “Let’s make sure the cabin is stocked.”As Archer passes me, he offers me a small, shy smile. “Take your time. We’ll be waiting for you when you’re ready.”I spend an inordinately long time beneath a cold shower, wondering where the water came from this deep in the wild, and if the water could go even colder to wash away the desire that still burns through me with a vengeance.Ridge’s friend Amora gave me a bag full of clothes, including comfy sweats and nightshirts. Right now, baggy cotton pants thick enough to hide all my curves seem like the safest bet, and I top them off with a long-sleeved nightshirt that hangs off me like a potato sack. I know I probably look ridiculous, but the less skin I have showing in their presence, the better.For all of us.The more I have to take off, the more likely I won’t give in to the insane desire to press my bare skin against theirs the way m
SableFor the next week, the four of us spend nearly every waking moment together, falling into a comfortable routine. After that first evening when Archer had to pull me out of my panic-fueled flashback, all three men treat me with gentle compassion—even Trystan, who I doubt such empathy comes easy to.And thanks to their awareness, I don’t have another panic attack.Plus, exactly as Ridge promised me, they leave me alone at night to sleep in the one bed by myself, while they curl up in wolf form on the living room floor. I’m so thankful for their attentiveness to my feelings, but I can’t help the guilt that twinges my chest. The floor isn’t nearly as comfortable and warm as the bed, and to be honest, when we say good night, I feel an emptiness that carries me through the night and isn’t filled until I wake up to the sounds and smells of them making breakfast every morning.Something inside me feels like it’s trapped. Locked away and desperate to reach out and touch these three men.
DareIt’s the kind of night made for stealth.The kind of night made for tracking down witches and destroying each and every one of them before they can find a way to penetrate pack lands.The landscape flashes by at warp speed, and my paws thunder against the ground. I live for this shit—this freedom, the wild air, the heady scent of dirt.The chase.I skid to a stop in a small clearing just beyond the barrier line and lift my nose to the air. I can smell her—the witch that’s been testing the boundaries of our sigils. She has a cold scent, calculating and authoritarian, like she’s an alpha in her own right.The good news is, alphas are born to be tested.And beaten.I duck between the trees and put my nose to the ground just beyond the barrier. A tentative scent pattern tells me the witch was here, and recently. She zig-zagged just outside the boundary, getting closer and closer with every fucking step. I’ve been tracking this bitch for weeks, and as always, it seems I’m still one st