CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Solomon leisurely walked through the woods, following his mate's scent on the air. He’d dressed in warm black clothes to help fight the chill, but the coldness that lay heavily upon the land didn’t bother him for once. Because right now, excitement thrummed through his body, heating his blood and keeping him burning with need.

He chuckled softly to himself when he remembered the look on the werewolves’ faces earlier. Maybe he’d been showing off, but he wanted to make an impression.

Once the hour delay was over, Alpha Salvatore nodded at Solomon, telling him it was time. He couldn’t shift into his beast form, but that didn’t mean he was incapable of making a statement. Instead of immediately walking into the woods, Solomon had stripped off his heavy, fleece-lined sweatshirt and tied it around his waist. Under the sweatshirt he wore a black sleeveless T-shirt with extreme dropped armholes.

He cleared his mind, closed his eyes, and reached toward his other form. There was a slight tingl