Here’s the thing about wolves: their senses made them pretty sensitive—and the stronger their senses, the worse it was. Going from day to night in a totally different biosphere to day but several hundred miles north would be rough on any wolf given the different smells, sensations, and weather patterns. For a werewolf as strong as Greyson, it probably was enough to make his head swirl.
The kids returned to the playground—they were used to seeing wolves snuggle in public so they didn’t care. But I’m pretty sure one or two of the adults recognized Greyson because they were giving me some squinty-eyed looks that said gossip was spawning as we stood there.
“Do you need to sit down?” I asked.
“Just give me a second,” Greyson said. He plunked his chin down on the top of my head, effectively anchoring me in place.
I stretched my arm a little farther and tried not to be salty about all his muscles—seriously, wolves win the genetic lottery when it comes to physical fitness with the least amount of work.
“I can drive you and the car back to the lodge,” I offered.
“I’ve seen you drive. That’s not necessary.” Greyson leaned in, and a little more of his weight blanketed me.
I tried to look up at him, but between his chin on my head and his arm on my shoulders I couldn’t move much.
“Feeling better?” I sourly asked.
“I’m not sure. I have a ringing headache. You could try kissing me to see if it makes it better.”
“You are such an animal.” I tried to struggle my way out of his grasp.
“Yeah, it’s almost like I’m a wolf or something.” Greyson let me scramble for another moment or two, then collected himself, freeing me from his weight. “Congratulations on winning your case, Lady Hunter. Be sure to wave at Fletching when he arrives so he knows you got back first.”
“I never pegged you as being petty.”
“It’s not seemly in an Alpha,” Greyson acknowledged. “It’s why I encourage it in my Pack instead.”
I rolled my eyes and strode toward his car—I needed to grab my daggers from the glove compartment before I left. Because I certainly wasn’t driving home with him like this when it was just a short walk. “I’d say thank you for coming with me to Magiford, but you didn’t have to, and it seems like you had your own agenda.”
“So that’s a no to a thank you kiss, too?”
I glared at him as I yanked the passenger door open.
Greyson’s smile was too wolfish as he leaned against the car. “What? You’re the one that’s stingy.”
“Bad wolf.” I fished my daggers out of the glove compartment—they were cool to the touch since the car had been parked in the shadows of the garage instead of cooking in the sunlight. “Go find your mate and bother her.”
Greyson snorted as he pushed off the car and wandered up to the driver’s side. “Yeah, because that’s possible.”
I headed for the path that led into the woods and would take me back to my house. “A mate bond is absolutely wasted on you.”
“I agree,” Greyson called. His voice was too serious to be his usual snark, so I turned around in surprise, but he was already in the car, his forehead slightly furrowed as he started it up.
Don’t get involved. He might have my sympathy, but he’s a wolf—and an Alpha. He can take care of his own issues.
I nodded at the wisdom in my own advice and headed for the trees, waiting until I reached the forest before stopping to take off my heels so I could walk barefoot the rest of the way.
Wolves are wolves. I’m just a hunter. I may live with them, but I’m not Pack. Greyson isn’t my Alpha.
Somehow the thought made my heart twist a little. Not that I cared about Greyson—he could go romance some she-wolf. But that I wasn’t really Pack—and I had a sneaking suspicion, after seeing the Fletching hunters, that I wasn’t really a hunter either.
I’m stuck halfway between the two. That’s a nonexistent place to be.
I’d have to do something different, eventually. Or I was going to be alone, not quite fitting in, for the rest of my life.
*
Four nights later, I played out the downside of being a crazy cat lady—the litter box.
“You two are disgusting.” I tested to make sure my face mask and goggles were secure—I’d once made the mistake of cleaning their litter box and not covering my face, and Prince kicked a clump of dirty kitty litter at my face. I had never before gagged so much or used that much face soap in a single day.