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.”

right though!” An almost feminine voice sounds and my ears twitch, eager for confirmation. “I was just barely initiated

turns out to be female, their nights on the Earth are done. If

identify either of them as Gherkin, I already know we’ve found our mark. Just the word Elder was enough to put light a fire 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

on this little adventure, you’re

are on the council, just yours

to wear. Because I would have loved

better catch something, boys. Otherwise you’re all doomed. Because the one thing the Elders will forgive, is a spotless

1/3

One Hundred Ninety–One

and the camper shucklers us four pairs of legs suddenly come

T. I’m always ready.”

what you think you

leaping effortlessly up onto the reinforced steel roof. My footfalls are too light and the roof on this beast too strong for my smooth

ripple of golden movement across the lot and behind the older trallers, catches my eye and I suddenly have the urge to howl. The cats are here too!? Things are

muscles tense with the promise of copper 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 grass, posed and ready to strike.

boys come to hunt shifters or

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

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 enough to be accepted into their

off, hardening myself against these new and strange considerations that before today would never have crossed my mind.

questions Luna Lily would have

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 doomed the moment they put their jackets on. Lead bullets. What are they hoping to

one hefty female line up just outside the

that she will inevitably have to do tonight. If she’s quick with 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 behind the ears as Ted Veneer the Gherkin. That way, she might live. I know one thing, I’m not gonna kill her. Not when all