I laughed as I put the broom away, until I turned around and realized Princess had caught the snake again and dragged it back inside.
“Princess—no! Stop that!”
Chapter 16
Greyson
I inhaled deeply, sifting through the scents of the forest.
It was late summer, so everything was ripe and green, creating a full scent that made it harder to pick up any undertones.
I could shift. As a wolf, my nose is stronger. But then the Low Marsh wolves would realize we’re investigating the potion issue ourselves, and right now secrecy is more important.
I impatiently looked up and down the border we shared with the Low Marsh Pack. They had a small territory, which meant we had just one shared border. But it also meant it was fairly easy to scent out anything on their lands if the wind blew just right.
“Anything, Alpha?” Hector looked up from his phone, and the wind tousled his dark hair, adding Hector’s faint scent of paper and laundry soap into the mix of smells.
“Not here.” I glanced at the top of the rocky cliff—we stood at the base, where a small stream divided the Pack lands. “We might have better luck up top.”
“Excellent, shall we?” Hector waited until I nodded before he ducked into the underbrush.
I glanced at the cliff before following, taking a more direct route to the top.
Hector had stamina for days, so he’d sprint around to the lowest incline and run up. I opted to hike up portions, jumping from sections of flattened rock to steep incline.
Wolves weren’t big climbers, but I enjoyed hiking. There was something freeing in using your strength, balance, and speed in tandem. It helped that the more active I was, the less I felt the constant ache from my incomplete mate bond, so as I made a particularly long jump, the pain was so distant it was only a faint needling in my heart.
The gnawing pain was worst when I was sitting in my office or standing around—which, admittedly, was not high on a typical wolf’s priority list anyway, and made for a great excuse to slip out for a run or quick hunt.
When I reached the top of the cliff I inhaled again, picking through the individual scents as I ignored the reigniting pain from my ridiculous bond.
That’s a maple tree…rabbit…a white pine…owl pellets…wolf…
A faint, sour smell intertwined with something sweet tickled my nose. “There it is.”
“You smell it, Alpha?” Hector trotted up the last of the incline, pushing his dark eyebrows together in a line as he referred to wolfsbane.
I narrowed my eyes as I pinpointed the scent. “Yes. Can you pick it up?”
Hector breathed deeply a few times. “I can, faintly. I’ll mark it down.” He slipped his cellphone out and made notes.
We’d been attempting to track the scent of wolfsbane all morning. I’d smelled it on two other occasions, but Hector could only smell it one of those times.
“Do you think we’re smelling the potion itself, or a wolf that has taken it?” Hector asked.
I gazed across the miniature chasm. “A wolf that has taken it. It’s similar to what the original Low Marsh wolf smelled like. Which means more than one was taking it.”
“Logical,” Hector said. “It seems unlikely he would have stumbled upon it in Northern Wisconsin, and the Low Marsh Pack is not known for being bookish so I doubt he would have searched it out. I imagine someone introduced it to him.”
“It can’t be more than one or two wolves taking it,” I said. “Or their territory would reek of it.”
“Indeed,” Hector said. “What do we do with this information?”
“Submit it to the Regional Committee of Magic,” I said. “If we only tell Pre-Dominant Harka, it’s likely Fletching will try to accuse us of manipulating the case. But the Regional Committee can send out additional investigators, or tell Fletching to search Low Marsh territory.”
“Fletching is a problem,” Hector agreed. “Do you wish for me to do something about him?”
For Hector “do something” was a pretty broad category. Going by the twitch in his cheek, I was guessing he was thinking on the more extreme end this time.
I narrowed my eyes, considering the matter. “Not yet. It’d be a bigger pain to deal with the aftermath. If we can scent out the Low Marsh Pack’s supplier, Fletching will have to leave and the case will close.”
“Understood.” He finished tapping away on his phone and slipped it back into the pocket of his tweed coat that he wore even though it was possibly the hottest part of summer.