Hunted (Pack of Dawn and Destiny, #1)

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.

The wolves could take getting hit by a golfcart. But even with my slightly increased healing capabilities, I couldn’t.

But Hector was still patting my head, and given the werewolves’ touchy-feely-ness with those they considered family, he’d feel a little hurt if I just walked off.

“Greyson oughta just go down to Magiford and set the Curia Cloisters straight so they’ll stop accepting complaints,” Wyatt declared.

“You’d think other Packs would be happy we’re actually growing,” Aeric grumbled.

The golfcart hummed its way along, emerging from a bend in the road.

Two of the humans that belonged to the Northern Lakes Pack were sitting in it—Olivia and Tucker. They were a little older than me, and I’d known them since I’d been adopted into the Pack.

I gave the pair an awkward wave.

Olivia gave me one of those equally awkward tight frowny-smiles you give people when you see them but don’t want to talk. Tucker didn’t seem to notice—his gaze was flickering between the three wolves, who absently waved to the pair without looking at them.

“Regardless, Greyson would like to speak with both of you.” Hector gave my head one last pet, then took a step back. Unlike most of the Pack, he respected the concept of space, even if he had a personality as warm as the spring sun. “And if Phillipa is to make her morning shift, I believe she must leave shortly.”

Tucker and Olivia puttered off in the golfcart, but they glanced back with a look I recognized unfortunately well: dislike.

Wyatt nodded decisively. “Got it. We’ll report in. See you later, Pip!”

“Shania is coming in at lunch time. We’ll come with her to say hi,” Aeric said, referring to his girlfriend and my closest friend.

“Okay.” I glanced at my phone—I had ten minutes to make the fifteen-minute walk. “Good luck with that guy,” I said, referring to the venerated Alpha.

“Aww, Pip, come on. It’s been years. You’re going to have to accept him eventually,” Aeric laughed.

I shrugged and hitched my backpack higher up my back. “Someone has to be a doubter, or his fanclub will get too crowded. See you guys later!” I jogged off before he or Wyatt could protest—Hector knew better.

Running in khakis and my short-sleeved polo shirt wasn’t too uncomfortable. I was wearing my orthopedic walking shoes with their special inserts for maximum cushion. (It made for a fabulous combination with my business casual clothes, but when you’re on your feet all day, granny shoes will save your feet. And your knees. And all your joints!)

Gravel crunched under my feet, and the sky was an inviting shade of blazing blue that cut through the trees above my head.

Running was something I’d gotten good at since I’d been adopted into the Northern Lakes Pack. The biggest irritation was that my khakis didn’t stretch very well at the knees, which kept my stride short. But I wasn’t even sweaty when the gravel trail merged with three other gravel paths and turned into a paved road that led directly into downtown Timber Ridge.

I’m two minutes out from town, and about three from the welcome center. I should be able to make it in time!

I trotted toward the last big curve in the road, my backpack smacking me with every step.

When I reached the curve, my hunter instincts slugged me in the gut.