Huntress Born (Wolf Legacy Book 1) Read online

  I HESITATED, CONSIDERING flight for one short second. But my brother was still out there, somewhere, waiting for me to answer his digital plea. And I had other aces up my sleeve even if the roof was no longer my personal playground.

  So, using an awning to slow my descent, I landed gracefully on two human feet even as strange wolves came padding up to greet me.

  Okay, so perhaps “greet” wasn’t the right verb. Instead, as soon as I hit the ground, the pack was chivying me deeper into the shadows and further away from human eyes. The largest male led the way while others nipped at my heels, brushing against my legs hard enough to make me stumble.

  “You don’t have to be so pushy,” I grumbled under my breath, nonetheless picking up my heels as we all padded away from the more trafficked street corner at a ground-eating trot.

  The only response to my complaint was another bite, and this time the wolf in question didn’t bother to exercise restraint. Instead, his sharp teeth tore through the fabric of my jeans, making me wince as the metallic tang of blood rose to permeate the warm evening air.

  Just what I needed—to excite these predators further with the scent of flowing blood.

  True to form, the lead animal immediately dropped all pretense at stealth, raising his chin to the sky and howling into the night. Luckily, by this point the neighborhood we were traveling through had changed from inner city to well-heeled gentry, which meant the residents were all tucked away snug in their beds. Hopefully no one heard the truncated howl...or the more elongated scuffle as three impatient wolves herded a mostly-willing human down the pavement beside an endless string of night-darkened homes.

  Only there weren’t only three wolves hemming me in any longer. Two others had slipped out of the bushes while I wasn’t looking, after which a pair of youngsters pranced up to join the hunt. So there were eight of us, all-told, when we paused at the edge of a busy, two-lane road.

  The pups were what prompted me to make it easy for my escort at last. “I assume you want me to go straight on through,” I told the leader, who hadn’t once glanced over his shoulder since beginning to lead us all on this entirely unnecessary dance. “How about I cross here and you meet me on the other side?” I continued, speaking to ears that swiveled even though the male’s snout remained firmly facing the brightly lit pavement twenty yards ahead.

  And I must have struck the right tone at last because the male finally turned to face me head-on. I’d assumed from his high-handedness that our leader was an elder, but a glance at his muzzle now proved that he was actually no more than a year or two older than myself.

  More important than his age, though, was his mood. Our current leader was understandably annoyed by my recent tardiness, was pissed at having been asked to herd me along in the first place. And yet...the male was currently in lupine form and tuned into the thoughts of an animal rather than to those of a man. As such, a willing addition to the hunt overrode all petty grievances from the already foggy past.

  Soon enough, the leader’s eyes widened slightly, a request for me to clarify my recent words. And, willingly, I repeated my offer. “I’m not here to cause trouble. I’ll follow wherever you lead.”

  I’d expected perhaps a nod of acceptance or a snarl of retort. Instead, in a strange burst of inclusiveness, a temporary pack bond settled across my shoulders, attaching me to wolves I barely knew. I could feel not only these shifters waiting impatiently on the street corner, but also members of the pack not currently present who—I now knew—were running toward us along other darkened city streets.

  The sensation was scratchy and uncomfortable, blocking me off from more familiar connections to my father and home clan while tying me to strangers I’d never even met. And while I wouldn’t have wanted to keep a Greenbriar mantle in place for very long, its current presence was welcome nonetheless.

  Because being tied into the local network meant an end to backbiting and herding. An end to the skepticism that filled the air like the scent of moldy bread. This Greenbriar leader didn’t precisely trust me, and I also hadn’t tied myself so thoroughly to the other shifters that I couldn’t veer away at will. Despite those caveats, we were all in total agreement. For tonight, at least, we’d chosen each other’s company for the upcoming run.

  Chapter 5

  As soon as the decision was made, we were off. Wolf-form shifters slipped away into the shadows, darting down alleys before reappearing atop an unlit bridge that crossed the thoroughfare two blocks away. For my part, human feet carried me more sedately across the closest intersection and I nodded at a policeman before picking up my heels on the opposite side. Just a human, out for a run, I told the official with the relaxed set of my shoulders. And, like most one-bodies, the policeman saw what he expected to see.

  On the other side of the avenue, even more wolves settled in around me until I was trotting amidst a sea of fur and paws. The road we were following twisted into seclusion here, trees cropping up as we passed through an abandoned industrial district. Then a vast chain-link fence rose before us just where I’d thought a human park would exist based on my perusal of satellite photos during the long bus ride north.

  My assumptions had apparently been flawed, though. Because a shifter waited at the gate, suggesting that this area wasn’t open to the public...nor was it frequented by the two-legged set. Unlike the other shifters milling around me, this teenager was in human form. But he was also entirely naked save for an incongruously orange pair of flip-flops that slid around his otherwise bare feet with every step.

  “Welcome to the Greenbriar pack,” the male told me, swinging open the gates then standing back as the flood of wolves streamed through, jostling against each other in their haste to achieve the wooded side.

  I stood back to let them pass but didn’t attempt to argue with the gate guard about the temporariness of my recently assumed pack mantle. Instead, I slipped fingers over each shoulder then below my waistband, unsnapping special fasteners I’d added to my underwear after learning that my dominant nature made the upcoming party trick feasible.

  Then, as the two-legged shifter who’d let us in began a slow and laborious transition into lupine form, I dove forward...and shifted into wolf so quickly that my trousers and shirt, my panties and bra all fell into a crumpled heap beneath my paws.

  Finally, four-legged, I followed the other werewolves into the trees.

  CHIEF GREENBRIAR MET us at the top of the highest rise, his grizzled muzzle lined with scars from battles long past. Otherwise, though, his markings were reminiscent of those on the shifter who’d played Pied Piper during my recent journey through town. And as I breathed in similar aromas emanating from either side of me, I realized the two males likely also shared common blood.

  Father and son, I decided, noting the way all other wolves dropped to their bellies and lowered their eyes at the sight of their waiting leader. In stark contrast, my guide walked right up and sniffed his alpha’s nose without obvious sign of deference. So this wasn’t the sort of pack were an heir apparent was required to defend his place ad nauseam. A very good sign.

  Too bad I didn’t have a cupcake on hand to grease the wheels of my own arrival and prompt similar familiarity. Still, I opted to assume Chief Greenbriar would be a raspberry sort of fellow just like the cupcake I’d saved for him—a bit sour and well able to hold his own amid other flavors, but sugary sweet on the inside.

  Testing my hypothesis, I pranced up to the alpha just as I would have to my own father. Then, without waiting to gauge his reaction, I granted the older wolf a playful but deferent lick beneath his furry chin.

  My breath caught as the older male’s ears pinned back for a millisecond, but then his tongue lolled out in a lupine laugh. Accepting my far-from-formal introduction, he took my head between massive jaws and shook me gently from side to side in a formalized rebuke for my tardiness. But at the same time, the scratchy connection that his son had applied eased into silky smoothness across my back as the strongest alpha in the v
icinity approved of my temporary inclusion within his clan.

  In stark contrast to the loosely applied mantle that had broadcast nothing more than the pack’s shared enthusiasm earlier in the evening, individual reactions now rolled toward me in emotional waves. The two youngest werewolves were full of trepidation, unsure whether they’d show themselves to advantage during their first formal hunt. One adult shifter was hungover, while another harbored annoyance at being required to attend an event that cut into previously scheduled plans.

  Despite these few dissonant notes though, most of the wolves were raring to go. They were impatient with the hunt’s late start, uninterested in my unexpected presence, and thinking of nothing more than running flat out while cool night breezes wafted through stifling fur.

  But the alpha didn’t give us permission to begin at once. Instead, he tightened the reins and held us all in check for a long moment until we were stamping like race horses impatient to be off. Then he cocked his head...and gazed directly into my waiting eyes.

  I tensed, fully aware that an eye lock like this one would have been a stark challenge among alpha males. But I was female and often capable of wiggling out of dominance battles with an appeasing smile...assuming no handy cupcakes were lying around waiting to be doled out, that is.

  This time, though, I didn’t even need to resort to feminine wiles in order to defuse the tension. Because Chief Greenbriar wasn’t confronting me. Rather, he was assessing, measuring, asking if I’d like to be the one to lead the evening’s hunt.

  The gesture was still a test, of course, albeit a more palatable one than the stare-down he could have chosen. Definitely far better than I’d expected from a pack leader who had no reason to even allow me to walk his streets unhindered, let alone grant me the honored position of leading a full-pack hunt.

  Of course if I failed to find prime prey....

  Luckily, I was always up for a challenge. Closing my eyes, I raised my nose as if scenting the breeze, and in the process recalled the maps I’d stared at for hours as the pitifully slow bus paused in each small town along its path.

  Based on those images, this fenced-in sanctuary was too small to contain anything more tasty than a doe or two. On the other hand, if the pack headed downhill for a few short miles, we’d come upon an arm of national forest that my research suggested had been stocked with elk decades before.

  The large ungulates had done so well for themselves during the intervening period that the state’s department of game and inland fisheries had instituted an annual hunting season with the goal of preventing overpopulated elk from wandering down city streets in search of flowerbeds to nibble on.

  And if humans were allowed to hunt elk...well perhaps werewolves were too.

  Chapter 6

  No one argued when I took off to the south. Instead, they fell in line behind me as easily as if I were their usual guide rather than an uninvited guest. And before we’d even reached the limits of the pack’s fenced sanctuary, the alpha’s son was running by my side, his shoulder bumping playfully against my own.

  Well that’s a change of tune, I thought wryly. Still, I couldn’t blame the younger male for dropping his former aloofness as soon as Chief Greenbriar offered explicit approval of my presence. After all, the city’s leader was that rarest of alphas—a male like my father whose profound power meant he had no need to threaten or punish in order to make his pack obey.

  By his actions, Chief Greenbriar had suggested I was more important to their pack than anyone had initially suspected. So now his son was wooing me far more seriously than was merited by our short acquaintance.

  In response, I played along. Well, not too overtly—after all, the younger male’s scent of warm granite and damp clay did nothing for my libido and I had absolutely no intention of formalizing the borrowed Greenbriar mantle by mating within their pack. But I didn’t push my hunting companion away either. Instead, I matched him nudge for nudge, even allowing the alpha’s son to pull ahead and choose the direction of our travel when the path we were running along split in two.

  After all, I’d scented elk in both directions. No reason not to let the heir apparent claim the final prize of leading us all to a feast when my own short-term status meant I had no dog—or, rather, elk—in this race.

  Instead, I merely relaxed into the heady sensation of running with a pack. The moon was high, the cool air flowing gently over my hot fur. I wasn’t home, I wasn’t with family, but I was happy.

  And then, abruptly, a very different sort of scent froze my feet and reminded me that I wasn’t just an uninterested bystander acting as an audience to Greenbriar power plays. Slipping out of the stream of wolves, I padded over to sniff at the earth beneath a straight-trunked walnut, trying to determine whether it was my nose or my mind playing tricks.

  The answer was—neither. A wolf had definitely peed here not long ago...which wasn’t a big surprise since the hole in the fence we’d passed through half an hour earlier suggested this area was often treated as an addendum to the pack’s more official hunting grounds. The identity of the scent-marking wolf, though, raised hairs along the entire length of my spine.

  Derek. My brother had been present in this very spot no more than a week earlier. And in the way of wolves, he’d imbued not only his identity but also his mood into the chemicals that laced his urine.

  The youngster had been scared. Not outright fleeing from a dangerous pursuer, but skulking as lone wolves tend to do around the periphery of an established pack.

  Only Derek hadn’t been looking for a way in. He’d been looking for a way back out.

  I lowered my muzzle closer to the earth, doubting the evidence of my own nose. The facts simply didn’t add up. Not when Chief Greenbriar and his son had drawn me into their ranks as adroitly as ever my own father had soothed the fears of time-worn loners and given them a place to call home. I’d arrived in the city late and uninvited, expecting to be chased out of town on a rail. And instead, no one in the host clan had so much as hassled me during the recent race through forested glades.

  Pawing at the earth, I whined out my confusion. And, to my surprise, the dusty patch yielded up a more tangible prize.

  A key on a chain. And nearly hidden beneath the scents of urine and earth, the faintest aroma of moss still adorned the metallic surface. Derek had definitely been the one to tuck away this offering. Perhaps I could use the clue to track my elusive brother down?

  Glancing over one shoulder to see if anyone had noted my absence, I slipped my head through the chain and shook myself until the metal settled down invisibly into my thick lupine fur. I didn’t know why Derek had come this way several days earlier. Could find no further indication of why he had been frightened or who might have been hounding his trail.

  But my missing sibling had left behind a key. I had to assume that meant I was finally on the proper track.

  UNFORTUNATELY, THE mystery of Derek’s disappearance would have to wait. Because I could feel the alpha’s son racing in for the kill via the borrowed Greenbriar mantle. Meanwhile, a change in the connections streaming between me and the other shifters suggested I was about to lose my chance at making a good impression on this borrowed pack.

  Sure enough, when I glanced up, Chief Greenbriar’s gaze met mine through gaps in the intervening trees. The older male’s eyes narrowed in speculation, and I could almost feel his questions streaming toward me down our temporary pack tether...

  ...only to be cast aside as a glint of reflected moonlight illuminated the younger Greenbriar male’s teeth. Fangs latched onto the loose skin beneath the neck of a tremendous elk, and across the scrimmage the alpha howled his immediate approval. Then both alpha and son were lost from view as a surge of wolves darted past the prey animal’s feet, snapping at flanks and belly in an effort to take the elk all the way to the ground.

  It was time to join in or be left out entirely, I realized. There needed to be blood on my fangs before this night was over if I wanted permission to h
unt in this city ever again.

  To that end, I pressed forward, thankful that the wolves on the periphery of the battle so readily allowed me to pass. Well, they all stepped aside...save for one skinny beast whose fur stank of fox-musk and dirty socks.

  I recognized the rapist more by scent than by sight. Somehow, I’d assumed Harmony’s attacker would materialize into a lone wolf like my brother. After all, who but a packless beast would have the temerity to break such a serious law? The male likely made a living out of skulking around the perimeter of claimed territory, succumbing to gaffes that would eventually get him tossed out on his ear...assuming the pack leader was in a good mood at the time and didn’t produce a far more final form of punishment for the indiscretion.

  But in this case, the foul-scented male was right in the thick of the action. And unlike his fellow pack members, he didn’t budge as I approached. Instead, the shifter remained directly in my path, lip curled and teeth bared in a reminder that not every resident of the city was thrilled by my uninvited presence on their home turf.

  I was more surprised by the male’s ability to rub shoulders with hunt participants than I was scared of his menacing posture, but my vacillation must have resembled fear from a distance. Because before I could make a move to push the troublesome shifter out of my path, Chief Greenbriar barked out a curt command and his son released the elk’s neck with alacrity. Then the younger male was leaping between me and perceived danger, fangs bared and lips curled back as he dove in for the kill.

  The battle that ensued felt far harsher and stranger than I would have expected. Snarls soon turned to yelps, and a spray of blood forced me backwards even as I shook my head at the severity of the attack.

  This isn’t how it’s done back home, I couldn’t help thinking. Dad would never have turned punishment over to an underling then watched what appeared fated to become a battle to the death.