chapter five
The next morning, Sasha leaned against the boulder near the falls and waited for Aden. Her wolf’s early morning run had warmed her now naked skin.
Snapping twigs marked his approach. Stealth wasn’t one of Aden’s strengths. His best attributes strained against his thin cotton shirt.
He emerged from the foliage, grinning. “Good morning,” he said.
“Morning,” Sasha replied, circling her arms around her toned midriff.
“You weren’t at breakfast.”
It might have pleased her he’d noticed her absence if he had sounded remotely disappointed.
“I caught my own food.” A vole with the bad idea of nibbling on a carrot inside the den’s vegetable garden. Sasha had crushed it between her jaws then lay on her belly to finish it off.
“Nothing like hunting down breakfast to start the day.” He stepped closer, eyebrows jumping. “Congratulations. You must be excited about Hector.”
Sasha stared at Aden, irritation crawling up her back like an itchy rash.
Not only had he been blind to her feelings, but he showed no concern for her situation. Like the rest of the clan, he assumed Hector’s status as a pureblood should be enough to entice her. She hadn’t met Hector yet and everyone behaved as though they were already mated.
Rather than respond, she changed topic.
“If Jack and Farley don’t hurry up, we won’t reach the city until afternoon.”
As though summoned by her words, Jack and Farley came striding out of the forest. Both males were mated to females in the den. Jack was tall and always clean-shaven, whereas Farley had a beard and rounded face. The two were close friends and chose to pair up on assignment, which was yet another perk among the claimed. They didn’t have to defer to Jager for partners.
Jack lifted his chin. “Ready to fetch supplies?” he asked by way of greeting.
Already naked, Sasha shifted first while the three males stripped out of their clothes. She led their group through the forest, veering away from the footpath to take the most direct route toward the river, hills, and wasteland beyond.
Supply runs took two days, for safety reasons, and that was when things went smoothly. With rare exception, the council didn’t want pack members overnighting it outside of the hollow.
After crossing the forest, they shifted beside a small cave near the Manama River. Hunched down to avoid the low rock ceiling, Sasha inched her way inside the cold confines, reaching around until she found the four packs they left stashed inside. She tossed them out one at a time then backed out of the cave, blinking in the sunlight. Black spots circled her vision like a dozen suns eclipsed in orbit.
While her eyes readjusted, the males strapped on their packs. Aden held the fourth out to her. Sasha put it on and they all walked across the river where it flowed just above their ankles. Once on the other side, they trailed the river to where it deepened and knelt for a last drink of water.
Hiking through the hills was much more tedious on two legs, but the sun was still several hours from reaching its zenith. The way back would be less pleasant, especially with loaded packs. Aden and Sasha led the way, retracing the path they’d taken the day before.
Normally, her eyes would have been sliding all over Aden’s naked body, but his lack of interest extinguished her own. Instead, a pair of hooded green eyes flashed through her mind. Not even Wolfrik had ever looked at her with the kind of hunger she’d seen on Tabor’s face, like a half-starved wolf dying to sink his teeth into a fresh piece of meat. The memory made her breath quicken.
Aden glanced at her with raised brows, but she said nothing and he didn’t ask what had made her breathless.
The quiet didn’t last long. Going in on foot inevitably meant conversation.
“I didn’t get a chance to congratulate the two of you on yesterday’s kills,” Jack called out from behind.
Aden swung around and grinned in acknowledgement. Out of courtesy, Sasha turned to face them.
Farley nodded, eyes lighting up. “Two less vulhena in the world. That’s something to celebrate.”
“Good timing with the full moon ceremony tomorrow,” Jack said with a wink. “I bet Jager will make his brew extra strong to mark the occasion.”
“An extra special one,” Farley jumped in, wiggling his brows at Sasha.
Her heart constricted. “We better get a move on,” she said evenly, pace quickening as though she could distance herself from the aggravation climbing up her spine and burrowing inside her mind like a mole digging in with its broad forepaws.
At least she could count on Aden to set a vigorous pace. Jack and Farley, who were out of practice in covering long distances, soon ceased their banter, saving their breath for a more useful purpose: breathing.
The exercise calmed Sasha’s nerves. When they reached the peak, she took a moment to look out the way they’d come and admire the lush green oasis of home before turning to face the wasteland awaiting them on the other side.
Closing her eyes briefly, Sasha implanted the image of the hollow in her mind. Entering the wasteland, even for a day, withered her soul.
Sidling up beside her, Farley sucked in a horrified breath. “It’s as ghastly as I remember.”
Sasha opened her eyes, taking in the silent town below with its rusted cars, crumbling structures, and fading paint. “Nature will make it beautiful again one day.”
The trek down the hill went much faster . . . the walk through the sand, less so.
No one spoke as they cleared the desert where they were exposed and uneasy, hustling across the sand keeping an eye out for potential threats.
When they reached the first decomposed house on the outskirts of the subdivision, they slipped into the shadows beside a rotted wood platform with railing three feet off the ground.
Two by two they emerged from the shadows and jogged down the street. The pavement felt inhospitable and brittle beneath Sasha’s feet. Not only dangerous, supply runs required the use of arms and legs.
The sun rose above the decaying rooftops and scorched their skin. Sweat beaded between Sasha’s breasts. They didn’t slow down until they reached the fading signpost with four letters, “Pine” and two smaller ones in the right-hand corner: “St.” Below them was a faded red sign with four larger letters: “STOP.” That one appeared the same on all the decrepit street corners.
The elders knew how to read. Most of them had passed the knowledge onto their children. They’d grabbed books during past supply runs, which Sasha considered a foolish waste of space.
She didn’t see the point in learning to read. The world would never go back to the way it was, at least not in her lifetime. Even if it miraculously did, she’d been born in the wild and the wild was where she’d always remain. Nature provided. The pack provided. Everything else was a waste of time and resources.
“Okay, careful, everyone,” Sasha said to the group. “Watch your step and meet back at our starting point once you’ve filled your pack.”
The men gave a nod of understanding before veering off into opposite directions. Jack and Farley crossed the street and entered neighboring homes. Sasha selected a single-story house with brick columns, making her way along the overgrown stone path to approach the front door tentatively. It gaped open into a furnished room covered in dirt, bird droppings, and a whiff of something else . . . old urine.
Wrinkling her nose, Sasha stalked toward a hallway, listening for any sounds besides the creak of the rotting floorboards. She stepped gingerly into the first bedroom with a bed, dresser, shelves, and dusty black screen propped on a desk with a chair on wheels facing it.
Looking around at the faded pictures of cars and men in numbered jerseys wearing helmets over their heads, Sasha pulled her pack off, set it on the rumpled, musty-smelling bed, and unzipped it. She began opening drawers at once, then closed the ones containing underwear and socks. Shifters didn’t bother with undergarments; they were one extra article that required removing before shifting. Clothes, however, protected their human bodies from the elements and were in continual need of replacing, unlike the cooking pots and utensils the elders had gathered many moons ago.
The long bottom drawers revealed stacks of folded blue jeans and soft shirts.
Quickly, she stuffed the clothes into her pack, stretching the bag to its limit. There were still three pairs of jeans left and a dozen shirts, which Sasha reluctantly returned to the drawers.
From another drawer, she selected a pair of soft gray pants with a stretchy waistband along with an oversized T-shirt and laid them over the bed to put on for the trek back. Without warning, the floorboards creaked and the front door snicked shut. Three men dressed in solid brown and heavy boots thundered inside the bedroom, taking Sasha so off guard she momentarily froze, heart in her throat. Her hesitation gave the humans all the advantage they required.
“Grab her,” the shortest one said, jerking a finger in Sasha’s direction.
The two men were already on her, impossibly fast and brutally strong. One snatched her under her arms while the other lifted Sasha off her feet, which jolted her into action, thrashing and snarling as her attackers shuffled over the floor to keep hold of her.
This situation called for her wolf, but she couldn’t concentrate long enough to shift with the two men holding her above the ground and her sense of balance teetering like a loose branch swinging wildly in the wind.
The short one stormed over, face contorted and eyes glaring at her through narrow slits. He pulled a gun from the holster at his waist and pointed it at Sasha’s face. Fear seized and stilled her as though she’d been frozen in glacial ice.
The short one smiled slowly. “Good,” he said, satisfied, “you know what this is and what it does. If I see fur, I put you down.” He pointed the gun at Sasha’s face.
She looked past it, aiming her own glare at the man with her own unspoken threat to rip the entails from his body the moment she got a chance.
“Now be a good bitch and sit!”
The man holding her legs loosened his grip, allowing her legs to slide to the floor. His companion dragged her backward then shoved her onto the bed, the aged springs shrieking in outrage.
The humans’ movements were well coordinated. While one pushed her down, the other had his gun out, pointed at her, freeing up their leader, the vile man who spoke to Sasha as though she was a stray mutt. Firearm tucked away at his hip, he called out, “Casey, Andrew, are we secure?”
“Front door secure, no sign of the three males,” a voice answered from outside the bedroom.
“Back door secure, all clear,” a second, more distant, voice chorused.
Sasha’s heart gave a sickening lurch. She kept her mouth clamped shut, eyes intent on her enemies, watching and listening to their movements. A patchy red rash covered the nose and cheeks on the man who had been holding her legs.
“And now we wait,” their leader said.
The tall, gangly man who had pushed Sasha down let his gaze rove over her body.
“While we wait, can we have ourselves some tail?”
Sasha leapt to her feet, snarling. The sound of a “click” did nothing to silence her. It wasn’t until the other man waved the firearm at her that she grit her teeth, standing her ground.
Mangy cowards. Human savages. Such a shame they hadn’t all gone extinct. Instead, the worst of them had crawled out of the wreckage, like cockroaches.
“No distractions,” the leader snapped. Glowering at Sasha, he lashed out. “And you, sit your ass back down before I change my mind and hump that scowl right off your face.”
Sasha took a step back and sat slowly, never taking her eyes off the leader. From the corner of her eyes she saw the tall one shrug and mutter, “She’s already undressed.”
“Hey, boss,” a voice called from the direction of the front door. “We’ve got movement. It’s the big one.”
The leader strode out of the bedroom asking, “Is he alone?” as he left.
“Affirmative.”
“Good. He’s the one we want. What’s he doing?”
“Walking down the street with a full backpack, and he’s even bigger up close. I think we should call him Rambo.”
Their leader grunted from the hallway. “Don’t bother. You know that Hawk names all the dogs. Just keep him in your sights.”
Inside the bedroom, the wretch with the filthy tongue raked his eyes over Sasha, fixating on her breasts.
The ruddy-faced man shook his head at his companion.
“Keep your pants on, Duke. You’ll get your reward back at the compound.”
“Those weathered hags?” The gangly man named Duke leaned forward and leered at Sasha. “This one’s perfect, could have been a Playboy centerfold. For once I’d like to put my cock into something softer than tanned hide.”
His companion shrugged. “Take it up with Hawk.”
“It’s two days until the full moon,” Duke grumbled. “By the time we get back he’ll walk her straight to the breeding pens, probably give her to Cujo. Lucky dog gets all the best bitches. All I can hope for is a chance to watch.”
Fur prickled beneath the surface of Sasha’s skin and claws extended toward her fingertips. As her wolf fought for release, she began to pant. She tried sucking air in through her nostrils, but it was no use. Her canines punched through her gums, an animalistic snarl joining them.
The man holding the gun opened his mouth wide. “Uh, Duke? We have a problem.”
“Oh, shit,” Duke said, pulling out his weapon. “It would be a shame to put a hot bitch down before she has a chance to breed.”
Taking the time to fully shift would make her vulnerable for about fifteen seconds too long. Instead, she lunged at the ruddy-faced human, ducking right before he fired his weapon. Drywall exploded behind her as she tackled the man with a knee to the groin. He groaned in pain, lowering the gun.
“Shit, he’s on the run!” came a cry from the front door.
“Where’s he headed?” the man at the back door hollered.
“He disappeared behind the house directly across the street from me.”
As Sasha’s assailant doubled over, she laced her fingers together and slammed her fists over his wrist with a bone-bruising smack that knocked the gun out of his hand.
The humans had taken her off guard when they slipped inside the house behind her; now it was her turn to throw them off balance. The one named Duke rushed toward her, gun lowered, despite threatening her with his firearm moments before. He punched a fist at her face, missing Sasha by a whole head as she dropped to her knees on the ground, snarling with anger and frustration. Her wolf wanted out so she could castrate the filth standing in front of her. With no seconds to spare, Sasha wrapped her arms around his legs and bit through fabric and flesh, pulling loose a chunk of thigh muscle with the help of her elongated canines. Duke shrieked. A second later he fired down at Sasha with a shaky hand.
Wood splintered beside her knee. She released his leg, jumped up, and yanked the gun out of his fingers.
“What the hell is going on in there?” the leader yelled. Heavy bootsteps slammed the floorboards, but before he could reach the bedroom, his man at the front door hollered.
“He’s shifted and he’s huge. Boss, he’s running straight for us.”
“Don’t shoot!” the leader yelled. “Bolt the door. Rusty, Duke, bring me the female if you haven’t fucking killed her already.”
“Two wolves in back!” the man at the back door shouted.
“Kill them,” their leader said.
Shots exploded, followed by vicious growls from outside both ends of the house.
“Shit, I think you angered Rambo.”
“Bring me the female!” the leader screamed.
While Duke pressed his palms against his bleeding thigh, his companion jerked upright, eyes still squeezed in pain. Sasha pointed the gun at him, glancing at the weapon in her hands. She’d seen the men stick their fingers through the hole on the other end. Jamming her finger through, she shook the gun at the ruddy-faced man who froze, eyes widening. When nothing happened, she shook it harder and squeezed. The shot thundered through her body, shattering her eardrums. Heart racing out of control, Sasha gasped for breath, feeling as though her throat had been ripped out and smashed against the wall alongside the wayward bullet.
The roof cracked and shuddered above their heads, followed by a scuttling sound and cursing on the ground floor.
“Holy, fuck, he’s on the roof. I’ve never seen one jump that high.”
“If you have to shoot, shoot to harm, not to kill,” their leader said. “Andrew, what’s going on with the other two?”
“They ran for cover, Boss.”
“Hold your position. They come anywhere near the house, you put ’em down. Rusty, Duke, is one bitch too much to handle? Get her out here—now!”
As the leader screamed the last word, the roof caved in and Aden came crashing down with a ferocious, ear-splintering growl. Plaster rained down from a hole above the hallway as Sasha ran out of the bedroom.
Aden leapt on top of the man at the back door, taking him down with a snarl. The man screamed as Aden clawed open his back then tore in with his fangs, spraying blood over the faded wallpaper. Sasha’s feet pounded the floorboards as she raced toward Aden. With four men up front, the backdoor was their best way out.
“Let’s go,” she screamed, running past Aden.
She flung open the back door and ran into the glaring sunlight.
Jack and Farley emerged from the shadows of a house with broken windows and peeling paint. When they ran snarling past Sasha, she put her fingers in her mouth and gave a shrill whistle. The two den wolves stopped, ears twitching, and turned to follow her as Aden raced out behind them. A gunshot cracked at their backs.
“Careful,” the leader yelled.
“He killed Andrew,” the other man yelled back.
Sasha took in air by the lungfuls, not slowing until she dove around the house. Without waiting a second longer, she dropped to the ground and completed her shift. Black, gray, and white fur covered her body as her ears lifted and her muzzle lengthened. Duke’s blood still coated her tongue.
Aden, Jack, and Farley guarded her until she was ready and then they ran between houses, weaving away from the small group of humans. There were no more shots fired as they sprinted toward the hills. The humans had no chance of catching up.
They kicked up dust as they crossed the sandy plains then began the trek up the hill. Once their paws touched grass, they released a collective breath.
After clearing the hill, they loped down the rest of the way to the caves.
As soon as they reached the river, they waded in and stuck their muzzles into the water to drink, gulping down mouthfuls at a time. Water had never tasted so good. Sasha felt like a withered vine that had been revived. Once her thirst was quenched, she splashed across the river, racing ahead of the others, and shifted on the side that marked Wolf Hollow territory.
Aden followed her. As Sasha stood on shaky legs, he rose, eyes poring over her as she did the same, inspecting one another for wounds.
“They didn’t hurt me,” she said, blinking rapidly as though having just awoken from a nightmare.
Once he’d shifted, Farley took a gasping breath. He stumbled over, rubbing his hands over his cheeks, followed by Jack, whose head jerked around, searching the area for hidden threats.
“You two okay?” Aden asked.
Jack pulled his attention away from the hills and nodded.
“The bastards shot at us, but we weren’t hit. What happened?”
They all looked at Sasha. It felt like ants were crawling all over her skin, making her itch everywhere at once.
“They snuck into the house after me. I didn’t hear them until it was too late,” she said bitterly.
Aden growled and gnashed his teeth together. “There were no signs of them yesterday. They must have wandered in after us this morning. Rotten timing.”
“Well, no fresh clothes for the tribe,” Jack grumbled.
“At least we’re all okay,” Farley said, eyes sliding back to Sasha questionably.
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “I even managed to take a chunk of flesh out of one. Aden killed another.”
“Better them than us,” Jack said.
Farley nodded. “Makes me appreciate my parents’ decision to join a wolf pack in the wilderness. Our way of life is hard, but at least we’ve built a community.”
“Well, better get back on all fours and head for the glade. Jager won’t be happy,” Jack said.
Aden stood rigid beside the river. “You two go ahead. Sasha and I will catch up.”
Jack frowned. “We should stick together, especially after encountering those humans.”
“We’ll catch up,” Aden repeated.
With a low grumble, Jack nodded at Farley as they got onto their hands and knees, shifted, and trotted toward the glade.
Aden strode over to Sasha, stopping a foot away. The way his eyes searched hers turned her breath ragged.
“You’d tell me if they put their hands on you?”
Sasha knew what he meant. He wanted to know if they had raped her. They hadn’t, but given the chance, they would have handed her over to another shifter to breed. What vile purpose could humans have for breeding pups?
Her heart beat wildly, caught in her throat like a moth struggling to free itself from a spider’s entangled web. Angry tears sprang over her eyes at the injustice. She’d narrowly escaped, but from the sounds of it, other shifters hadn’t been so lucky.
Sasha blinked and shook her head. “You’re the one they wanted. I think they cornered me to get to you.”
Aden’s shoulders relaxed as he nodded. “They probably wanted me for their fights.”
Sasha squinted at him, confused.
“Human entertainment,” Aden clarified. “Pitting wolves against dogs and other wild animals, including wolves against wolves. They must have been beside themselves to come across a werewolf.”
Sasha shook her head, stomach roiling at what kind of sick people could force shifters to breed and fight for sport.
“I don’t think they knew what you were.”
Aden grunted.
Sasha watched the gentle flow of the river, allowing it to pull her gaze into its depths.
“I’ve never seen humans up close like that before. The things they said—” Her words floated away with the current. She didn’t want to repeat what she’d heard.
“I wish I’d killed them all,” Aden said.
Sasha looked up. “I wish we both had.”
“At least you all made it back unharmed,” Jager said.
Dressed in the clothes they’d left behind that morning, Sasha, Aden, Jack, and Farley stood outside Jager’s hut, along with the hollow’s elders.
Palmer paced beside a small firepit, smacking his fist into his open palm.
“We have to keep this quiet for now. Hector and Alexa only just arrived—Raider is showing them around the den as we speak—and we’ve waited too long for Hector to visit Wolf Hollow to give him any reason to doubt joining our pack.”
Garrick cracked his knuckles. “Then it’s settled. Everyone keeps their mouths shut.”
Farley narrowed his eyes. “I don’t keep secrets from my mate.”
“If Tanya can hold her tongue, it should be fine,” Palmer said, likely because he planned on telling Francine first thing.
“No one better jeopardize this pairing, especially not mates,” Garrick’s voice boomed.
Jack folded his arms over his chest, glaring at Garrick.
Jager cleared his throat. “We will tell the pack what happened after the full moon.” His eyes sparkled when he looked at Sasha. “You have a big night ahead of you tomorrow, Sasha.”
“Best get a head start tonight,” Garrick said under his breath, but not low enough for anyone to miss. “No sense wasting a perfectly good full moon.”
Bile rose up Sasha’s throat. She tasted the vole from early that morning along with Duke’s blood and swallowed the foul mixture back down. The trees darkened in the fading light, their lengthening shadows closing in on her. She felt outnumbered, trapped back in that stale room with yet another group of men deciding her fate.
Aden shook his head. “Thank heavens those mongrels didn’t get to Sasha.”
“Yes, soon she will be safe in the den,” Jager said.
Aden tried flashing her a comforting smile, but his warm gaze was lost on her, swallowed into the horizon with the setting sun. She’d wanted so desperately for him to care about her, but clearly his concern had more to do with Hector and the strength of the pack.
There was only one shifter who had dared suggest she consider claiming a non-pureblooded mate. At the time she’d assumed it was Tabor’s way of hinting he’d picked up on her feelings for Aden.
Now Sasha wasn’t so sure. He’d also brought up offspring.
“Any pups of yours would still be stronger than the rest. Even offspring from a half-breed.”
There was only one half-breed in Wolf Hollow: Tabor.
If there was a shifter cocky enough to defy the elders, Sasha had little trouble seeing the green-eyed ruffian putting his own interests before others.
Her body shivered imagining Tabor atop her rather than Olivia. It had been so long since she’d been touched. Sometimes she swore she felt her wolf snapping at her from the depths of her soul, whimpering for satisfaction.
Sasha cleared her throat. “It’s been a long day. I’m in no mood to spend it with a stranger.”
“You better get in the mood. Hector traveled a great distance to meet you.” The vein on Garrick’s neck looked ready to pop.
Sasha imagined her parents howling their outrage from the Forest of the Ancestors. Tears watered at the back of her eyes, but she managed to stare stony-eyed at Garrick, even as storm clouds gathered over her heart, threatening to burst.
Jager stepped forward. “No, they will meet as planned during the full moon ceremony when they dance together. Hector won’t be able to resist Sasha once they perform in the sacred dance. As for the full moon, we can only hope.” Jager rubbed his hands together.
“What about the rest of the supply run?” Jack asked. “The pack will wonder why we’re not heading back to the caves tomorrow to bring back today’s supposed bounty.”
“Tell them I’ve decided it’s better for you to wait until after the full moon,” Jager said.
“What about future supply runs?” Farley chimed in. “When do you think it will be safe to return to the city?”
“I’ll scout out the area in a few days,” Garrick said.
“I’ll go with you,” Raider said.
“You’re needed here. I’ll take Ford.”
“Aren’t you afraid he’ll tell Polly?” Farley challenged.
“Unlike you, my nephew knows how to keep his trap shut around his mate,” Garrick returned.
Farley snarled.
Their voices faded as Sasha’s mind wandered off, wanting to be alone. Soon enough, Jager shooed them away. Jack, Farley, and Palmer headed for the den while Sasha, Aden, and Garrick took the path toward the glade. As soon as Sasha had an opportunity to break free, she did, claiming exhaustion from the day’s journey and events.
“Rest up, Sasha. You have a big night ahead of you tomorrow.” Garrick’s teeth gleamed when he grinned.
As their gazes locked, an urge to scratch Garrick’s face came over her.
Aden missed their interaction as he looked longingly toward the voices drifting through the trees from the glade.
Just as Sasha had done with the humans, she offered no verbal response to Garrick, fuming as she turned on her heel and stormed into the shadows, leaving the gathering behind her. The muffled voices were soon replaced by the distant echo of Wolfrik’s final words nipping at her heels as the cool, compact dirt muffled her footsteps.
“They forced us together and we rolled over like obedient dogs.”
Unlike Wolfrik, she wouldn’t tuck tail and run, nor would she roll over against her will.
More voices haunted her memories—recent human voices. There’d been no time to fully process them in the horror of the moment, but they swarmed her now like squalling crows picking at her brain.
“It’s two days until the full moon. By the time we get back he’ll walk her straight to the breeding pens, probably give her to Cujo.”
Those men would have pushed her onto another shifter to breed . . . the same way the elders were pushing her now.
Where she’d felt resigned to do what was best for the hollow before, her heart now rebelled. She needed someone to take her mind away from the pack’s misguided notion of hierarchy, and who better than a headstrong half-breed?
The next evening, Sasha returned to Jager’s hut where a single shifter named Trish waited out front to prepare Sasha for the mating dance. Trish stood beside the small burning fire, tending to a roasting squirrel from a stick atop the flames. She smiled the moment Sasha emerged from the forest.
“Sasha’s here,” she announced.
Jager hobbled out of his hut holding a tin cup in one hand. He smiled with crooked teeth. Sasha walked over so he wouldn’t have to limp to her.
“Drink up,” he said, handing her the cup.
“Just a sip.” Sasha took the cup and tilted it back. The liquid burned down her throat. She wrinkled her nose and handed the cup back to Jager. She’d never understood all the fuss over his brew. It didn’t have a flavor so much as a burn, like a sudden rash across her throat, and she had no interest in anything that would dull her senses.
Jager took a large sip. It made sense that he would drink the stuff to dull his aches and pains.
“The squirrel’s cooked enough. Take it off the fire so it can cool,” he said to Trish.
Trish did as he said, propping the stick over some rocks. She grabbed a small pan of beeswax off the ground and set it over the fire.
Jager lifted his cup to his lips and drank down the liquid before setting it on the ground. He rubbed his hands together.
“After you eat, we’ll get started on your costume.”
“Where are the other females?” Sasha asked.
Usually they all prepared for the ceremony together while the men readied themselves in a separate location.
“Francine and Amber will see to the other females, including Alexa. I met her earlier, attractive woman,” Jager said.
“And Hector?” Sasha asked.
Jager grinned. “Large man. As big as Raider. He’ll make a strong mate.”
Trish squealed and clapped her hands together. “I am so happy for you, Sasha.”
Rather than respond, Sasha stared at the squirrel—skinned and charred. “The meat’s probably cooled enough,” she said.
Eating meant not talking.
Trish sprang to action, snatching up the stick and handing it to Sasha, who blew on the roasted flesh before biting into the meat.
Eating in wolf form was much easier—no cooking required.
Luckily, Jager and Trish weren’t big talkers. They waited quietly for Sasha to finish the squirrel.
Once Sasha had picked the rodent’s bones clean, Trish set to work on Sasha’s hair, plaiting it into two tight braids that she then wove together to keep out of the way.
As Trish took the melted beeswax off the fire, Jager returned to his hut. Wimp, Sasha thought. He wasn’t the one who had to go through the discomfort of hair removal. She undressed and stood near the fire’s heat while Trish got started on Sasha’s right leg, smoothing the warm beeswax over her calf. Once the wax covered a portion of Sasha’s leg, Trish pressed a cloth into the wax. It always felt nice going on. Coming off was another matter. Trish ripped back the strip, taking wax and hair with it. Sasha gave a slight flinch. It seemed rather ironic to put so much work into hair removal in human form when she was covered with fur the moment she shifted.
Her mother had once told her the urban shifters had started the practice, incorporating it into the ceremonial dance. Over time, the two became tradition. Once she had a mate, she wouldn’t have to fuss with such things any longer.
Trish was on Sasha’s left leg when Palmer emerged from the forest.
“How’s it going?” he asked, looking Sasha over.
Sasha was used to it. Palmer was one of those males who couldn’t keep his eyes off a woman’s chest. Maybe that was another reason for Francine’s ire. But Francine knew what she was getting into when she claimed Palmer as her mate.
“Where’s Jager?” Palmer asked, staring at Sasha’s breasts.
“Giving Sasha privacy; you should do the same,” Jager bellowed from his hut.
Palmer sniffed and grinned, moving in closer. “Nice work, Trish,” Palmer said.
She blushed and looked at the ground. “Thank you.”
He dragged his eyes away from Sasha’s breasts to glance down at Trish. “You should come sit by me at the ceremony, admire your work in action.”
Trish’s blush deepened. “That would be nice.” She kept her eyes on what she was doing.
Jager poked his head out of his hut and scowled at Palmer. “Stop distracting Trish while she’s getting Sasha ready.”
Palmer smirked. “Stop hiding in your hut, old man.”
Jager took an uneven step out. “Where’s that mate of yours? You shouldn’t wander too far away. She looks like she’ll pop at any moment.”
Palmer lifted his chest and flashed his teeth when he grinned. “The sooner, the better, so I can put another one in her.”
“So full of himself,” Jager muttered.
“Such a shame to have to wait nine months,” Palmer mused, staring into the trees. He glanced down at Trish. “I have so much life to give.”
Trish was too intent on her task to notice Palmer staring at her. She ripped off another strip.
Sasha groaned. Listening to Palmer’s innuendos was worse than hair removal.
Trish looked up, lips pouting. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Did that hurt?”
“It’s fine,” Sasha answered.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Trish chewed on her lower lip. Sasha had never been modest, but that didn’t mean she wanted Palmer around watching her get her leg hair ripped out.
She cleared her throat. “Why don’t you check on Francine? She looked like she could use some help.”
Palmer’s eyes narrowed and his voice turned cold. “Francine has all the help she wants. My woman can handle herself. She was concerned about you and sent me to check in.”
“Worried about me,” Sasha repeated in surprise. Could her old friend actually care about her distress over having a mate pushed on her? No. Francine hadn’t expressed any warmth the night before. More likely she was worried Sasha wouldn’t give herself over to Hector willingly.
“She said you’ve seemed distracted these past few weeks,” Palmer said. “Seemed to think your eyes have been lingering a little too long on your patrol partner.”
It was Sasha’s turn to narrow her eyes. She spread her fingers and pushed her hand down, signaling Trish to stop before the shifter had a chance to spread more warm beeswax on Sasha’s legs.
“If she’s so worried, perhaps I ought to go and put her mind at ease right now.”
“No,” Jager said. “You need to finish getting ready.” He scowled at Palmer. “Get out of here unless you want your cup to remain empty at tonight’s ceremony.”
“I’m going,” Palmer said with an easy laugh, lifting his hands in the air. When his gaze moved to Trish, his voice dipped low and deep. “I’ll save you a spot.”
“Thank you,” Trish said, barely audible. She blushed fiercely.
Meanwhile, Sasha felt the squirrel rising up her throat. Palmer’s bawdy behavior was gross enough, but flirting with another shifter when he already had a mate—and a pup on the way—was disgusting. Good thing Francine had such keen eyes to keep track of her lustful mate.
Sasha would never understand what compelled Francine to go for Palmer. Personally, she’d rather hump a fallen tree trunk.
Trish looked up at Sasha and grimaced. “Sorry about this,” she said, spreading hot wax on Sasha’s thigh.
Sasha ground her teeth and braced herself.
The sun began to dip into the trees. Light speckled over the ground as it filtered through the branches, grasping the last rays before the moon took possession of the sky.
Once Sasha was smooth from the thighs down, she dressed in a short skirt made from deer hide and a top made of the same material to cover her breasts.
The only thing left to put on was the wolf mask made from deer hide and rabbit fur. These were stored in a cabin beside the glade, along with tools, books, and other odds and ends. The other performing females would already be gathered at the cabin, waxed and dressed in the same costume as Sasha. Masks were the last things to go on since breathing behind them got hot.
Jager stepped out of his hut and looked her over, squinting in the fading light. He nodded his approval. A moonstone pendant dangled from his fingers. Limping over to Sasha, he moved behind her to wrap the necklace around her throat and attach it in back.
“What’s this?” Sasha asked, fingering the smooth teardrop-shaped stone that settled into the valley between her breasts.
“A little something to help Hector identify you when he joins the dance,” Jager said. He circled around to see how it looked and grinned crookedly. “You’re ready.”
“Thank you,” Sasha said to Trish and Jager before heading down the path to connect to the narrow trail leading to the communal cabin near the river.
Voices filled the forest. The single shifters gathered around the bonfire. Smoke billowed into the darkening sky, and the smell of fire tickled her nose.
Giggles caught her ear as she approached the cabin where the rest of the females had gathered before the performance.
As Sasha walked into view, the giggling and chatter died off. Four young women stood outside the cabin in matching skirts and tops, their legs all smooth and hair braided like Sasha’s.
“Happy full moon,” Sasha said.
“Happy full moon,” the other women chorused.
Jager had selected Camilla, Kallie, and Rosalie to dance that evening. None of them had their masks on yet. Only one face was unfamiliar, a woman with brown hair, sensual curves, and rich brown eyes that regarded Sasha with keen interest. They stood at similar heights and might even come across as twins once they put on their masks.
Sasha walked straight up to the shifter. “You must be Alexa. I am Sasha. Welcome to Wolf Hollow.”
“Pleased to meet you, finally,” Alexa said, teeth flashing white when she smiled. “Camilla was just explaining the steps of the mating dance. It’s intriguing. We don’t have this ceremony in Glenn Meadows.”
Sasha straightened. “If you do not feel comfortable participating, you can always watch from the audience.”
Alexa batted the comment away with her hand. “Oh no. I enjoy new experiences, and from what Camilla tells me it’s not that complicated. We ladies start off free dancing around the bonfire until the males come along and hump our backs.”
This set Camilla, Kallie, and Rosalie into a fit of giggles that had them clutching their sides.
Alexa grinned wide but didn’t laugh. She stared into Sasha’s eyes, a look of challenge in her gaze.
Unlike a certain half-breed she knew, it was nearly impossible to get a rise out of Sasha. She stared back at Alexa, locking eyes with her until Alexa blinked first.
Sasha squared her shoulders. “The mating dance is a time-honored tradition in Wolf Hollow which has brought luck and fertility to mated wolves at the full moon for generations.”
“Of course,” Alexa said in a respectful tone that didn’t match the mockery in her eyes. “I didn’t mean any offense.”
“None taken,” Sasha said.
Camilla, Kallie, and Rosalie exchanged glances. Kallie cleared her throat. “I’ll get our masks,” she said.
“I’ll come with you,” Camilla said, following her inside the cabin.
Rosalie grinned at Alexa. “You’re lucky Raider’s your partner.”
“Am I?” Alexa asked, lifting one slender eyebrow.
Rosalie nodded. “He’s one of the most sought-after bachelors in Wolf Hollow.”
Alexa sniffed dismissively, then seeming to remember Sasha, glanced over to see her disapproving frown. Normally it was Sasha’s way to show patience toward guests—they had so few to the hollow—but Alexa wasn’t making a good first impression. She had barely spent one night with them and already she was expressing scorn for their pack.
“With my luck I’ll end up with Carter on my back,” Rosalie continued, missing the chilly glances flying back and forth between Sasha and Alexa.
“Better than Dylan,” Camilla said, emerging from the cabin with a sly grin on her lips and two wolf masks in her hands. “He’s in and out so fast you barely know he was there at all.”
Rosalie snickered.
Kallie, who held the other three masks, joined them.
Alexa’s nose wrinkled. “I’m not actually expected to couple at the ceremony, am I?”
Camilla shook her head. “It’s completely optional.”
“Camilla is always open to the option,” Rosalie said, leaning closer to Alexa as though imparting a secret with a close friend.
Camilla rolled her eyes and handed Rosalie one of the masks. As Kallie handed one to Alexa, she smiled warmly at the she-wolf. “You have nothing to worry about with Raider as your partner,” she said. “He’s a respected council member with good manners.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Alexa said.
Sasha had a feeling she was being sarcastic.
As Kallie handed Sasha a mask, she thanked her.
When Alexa lifted the mask to her face, Kallie hurried over. “Here, let me help you.”
While the other females gave each other a hand, Sasha secured the strings of her own mask behind her head.
The night appeared darker from behind the mask. She stared through the slits. The four other females had stilled, as though transformed by the masks covering their faces. They stood together in silence until a howl rose from the clearing then died down. The beat of drums beckoned them to approach the bonfire and begin their dance.
Sasha nodded for Kallie to lead their procession. The other females followed. Waiting until last, Sasha reached behind her neck, unclasped the moonstone pendant, and set it on the ground before entering the clearing where their audience awaited.
If Hector wanted to find her, he could do so without help. Better yet, he could select someone else. Just because he was a pureblood didn’t mean she wanted his paws on her. And if he was anything like his cousin, she couldn’t imagine claiming him for a mate.
Tonight, Sasha didn’t wish to be sought out. She intended to do the seeking. The sound of the drums filled her chest like a second heartbeat as she searched the darkness for a pair of green eyes.