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Bastion’s first letter arrived an hour after he rode away in our old jalopy. He must have mailed the message days earlier, and for the first time I understood why every single one of his pen pals promptly wrote back.
Still...it was hard not to feel bereft when Justice had gotten in the car to leave alongside Grace and Bastion. “Just for a week. Just to wrap things up at school.”
I’d nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. Justice had spent too much time and money stretching his lawyerly muscles to give up during the home stretch.
But Wolf Camp echoed with only me and Luke present. I had a hard time mustering much enthusiasm even when Luke surprised me later that week, presenting a long, skinny gift encircled by old Sunday comic pages.
“It was the only wrapping paper I could find.” His eyes were warm, his voice like honey. I did my best to smile as I picked at the tape.
Then he surprised a laugh out of me. “Please tell me you’re not planning on reusing that.”
“No. Of course not.” I tore through Peanuts to reveal a leather scabbard. Sleek, shiny, embossed with....
“Are those wolves?”
“You are the slowest unwrapper in recorded history,” Luke growled. “It isn’t just a scabbard.”
Now I was smiling for real.
I took my time tracing embossed patterns to annoy him, but my anticipation was finally too much to avoid. The last of the newspaper fell away to reveal a well-polished sword hilt. Sliding sideways, the blade rang as it was revealed.
“Wow.”
My dagger and guns had all come back to me, but I’d merely wiped away the blood, applied a coat of oil, then tucked them away in storage. Their memories were too raw to deal with. This sword, however....
I swiped it through the air, listening to the hum of potential. “Where would I use this?”
“You’ll need impressive weaponry if you plan to run with wolves.”
“Is that an invitation?”
“Do you want it to be?”
I found that I did. The solitude I’d sought chaffed, and I itched to stretch lupine muscles. I sheathed my sword and slid into my fur.
Together, we spent the rest of the day exploring camp property. Luke peed on rocks and tree trunks. I belly-crawled through a culvert to bypass a highway then cooled overheated skin by splashing through a creek.
We were no longer on Luke’s land, although we were still within his werewolf-asserted territory. The rules of skinless, I’d found, were complex and nonlinear. An alpha might be strong enough to claim miles of countryside from other werewolves even if in human terms he was only rich enough to rent.
Luke lacked neither human funds nor werewolf power. He'd purchased property backing up on an extensive national forest, all of which other packs ceded to him. We were free to run and run and run.
Then the breeze shifted and scent flowed across us—close, menacing.
Wolf. Neither wild nor woelfin, but the subtly darker scent of the skinless.
Luke growled, ruff rising. He angled his body until it was broadside before me.
Go home. Protect yourself. His motion was an order.
I snorted. No way was I leaving my partner alone to face a territorial invader.
I leapt across Luke’s back and was pleased when he spun to stand beside me. Shoulder to shoulder we peered into the forest, straining to see what would emerge from the trees.
***
I HOPE YOU ENJOYED Honor’s first adventure! For a sneak preview of Alpha's Hunt, simply turn the page.
Or perhaps you’d like to join Luke as he manages a life-or-death camp for unruly shifters in the prequel short story Thirteenth Werewolf, free to newsletter subscribers. To sweeten the pot, I’ll throw in two additional werewolf novels so you don’t have to come up for air for days.
Thank you for reading! You are why I write.