The Pack: Rule Number 1 - No Mates

Chapter One Hundred Ninety–One

QUINN

The four of us hit the woods and shift instantly, each of us heading at full speed toward the vicinity of the cell tower in question. Ten miles will put us right outside of Blackjack, where more than likely Teddy Gherkin and company are preparing for a hunt. Before we left the bar, Dem called Gryffin and filled him in on what we were looking for. So not only are there four insanely large wolves heading Teddy’s way, but there are at least three linn shifters prowling for him

well.

The problems is… we don’t have a scent for him. Not yet. But we will find him and when we do I’ll be committing his scent to memory. Something I would have and should have done Black at the diner, but didn’t because my mind was on other things.

Things that I fully intend to act upon once I’m back home and in bed with my mate.

My mate. I have a mate.

My mind is still giddy from the knowledge.

If anyone ever wondered whether or not wolves could smile, I’d ask that they take a look at me now. Because just the thought of coming home to a bed warm with my sassy little redhead’s body in it, has my tongue lolling outside of my mouth and flapping in the wind.

And the one thing I am not going to do is give her up. Not ever. I want to fill her with pup after pup, until we have too many kids to even name anymore. I’m gonna have my own little pack of monsters and tower of princesses to welcome me home each and every night,

As the four of us converge on one of the RV campsites, we melt into the dark of the trees as silent as shadows. Three boujee looking RVS are parked in the eastern lot, and two older, less flashy RVs are sat across from them on the western side. Something about the fancy trailers has me on edge and before I can doubt myself, I give in to my instincts and release a short yip. The sound is so low and indistinguishable, any humans that hear it will think I’m a bird. But my brothers know what it is and I feel, rather than see them, slow to a stop within the brush.

Slow and low, I creep toward the brightest of the campers. There’s a window in the back that, although shaded, is open just a crack. Concentrating on the voices I can hear coming from that sliver of an opening, I try to piece together their whispered words.

“My dad is gonna freak when he finds out we did this! You know the rules! We shouldn’t have gone on a quest without an Elder! Were gonna be stripped of our memberships and tossed-”

“Shut the fuck up, Hash. Shit. If I had known you were gonna whine like a little bitch the whole time we were here, I wouldn’t have included you.”

An almost feminine voice sounds and my ears twitch, eager for confirmation. “I was just barely initiated to take my

turns out to be female, their nights on the Earth are done. If she comes out of that camper and she’s armed? She’s

in my bloodstream and a low growl resonates behind my chest. The sound vibrates against the earth, calling out to my brothers who I am sure are busy scoping out the remaining two state of the

little adventure,

of our dads are on the council, just yours is

to wear. Because I would have loved to shake a few molars loose from

you’re all doomed. Because the one thing the Elders will forgive, is a

1/3

One Hundred Ninety–One

Who’s ready?” Ted oaks and the camper shucklers us four pairs of legs suddenly come

T. I’m always ready.”

That’s what you think

dark side of the BV and take a running start before leaping effortlessly up onto the reinforced steel roof. My footfalls are too light and the roof on this

urge to howl. The cats are here too!? Things are definitely about to become much more entertaining. All that’s missing now is a cameraman posted on

tang between my teeth. Adrenaline pounds through my veins as my fangs forge, becoming razor sharp points of contact. I sight Domonic’s red–brown coat to my right, his fur shivering like predatory blades of bloodstained

boys come to hunt shifters or naturals.

rank, I highly doubt they are equipped with the kind of weapons they would need to kill shifters, Silver bullets are not easy to come by and palladium bullets won’t kill us unless they rip through something vital and we don’t have the extra time to heal. Palladium wounds can scar and even fester, but once the bullets are removed, they are no longer a threat.

shaking beneath the clumsy footsteps of amateur hunters. It almost feels wrong to kill these incompetent souls. I mean, what if the only threat they truly represent is in their belief system? What if some of them are like Charlie, but were lucky

hardening myself against these new and strange

of questions Luna

swings open and a thick black barrel glints in the moonlight. One quick inhale is all that I need to take and already I know these boys were

line up just outside the door. The

that rifle in her hands, the lions will decide to pick her off first, female or no. Simply because that’s their way. So for her sake, I hope she’s as wet