Page 7 of Wolves Torn

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Anders wasn’t the kind of guy to be intimidated, but even he was a little alarmed to see their “welcome committee.” Misti had gone rigid beside him, so he whispered to her, “They just want to demonstrate their strength.”

“They hadn’t been so organized or fearsome ever before.”

“Which explains why they left. Don’t tell me that you’re upset that they might actually be able to help us by being a formidable pack.”

“Of course not,” she hissed, giving him some cutting side-eye. “It’s just… If they mean us harm…”

They were dead. Even if they only had brought ten wolves, hell, even just five, they weren’t healed enough yet for such a beating. With twenty, it would only be a massacre.

All they needed was a day, two at the most, depending on the extent of their internal injuries. With their rapid healing, they would be ready for a battle… just not at the moment.

The first guard glowered at them. “Jon Golden will see you.”

Obviously against this guard’s judgment.

“We are grateful for that,” Anders said.

The gate slowly opened, its creaking loud and obnoxious.

“Such a large host is needed to take us to your leader?” he couldn’t help asking as he and Misti crossed into their land.

“Our leader,” the guard scoffed. “You have an audience with our leader’s third.”

Not even his second.

“Still, we are grateful,” Misti said, shooting Anders another glare.

“So grateful,” he echoed. Well, maybe if it took them a day to talk to the second and another to see their actual leader, they would be healed at the very least. It wasn’t often that he tried to find a silver lining, but he had to at least try to be optimistic. Otherwise, he’d be lost to depression, and that could prove fatal in a battle, even if he were at full strength.

Although he only had to look at Misti, and any depression just fell away… to some extent. Seeing her brought a whole new level of sorrow to him. His life might finally have meaning again—his werewolf life at that and not just surviving day-to-day as a werewolf denying his wolf and only existing as a human—if only he could have her as his own.

Some werewolves believed in soul mates. Honestly, Anders thought that nonsense, but he couldn’t deny being drawn to her.

The compound looked almost like a military base. There were several one-level buildings, probably houses, even spaced apart and identical. One similar style building was triple the size although still one story. In the center, there was a fountain in the shape of a howling wolf, the water spraying out of the wide, gaping mouth. Smaller wolves, pups, formed a circle around as its base.

Just beyond the fountain was a two-story building otherwise identical to the other ones he suspected were their houses. The alpha would live there, potentially with the highest members in the pack.

This proved to be the case as they walked along the cobblestone path straight to that tall building. As they neared, a man shorter than Anders, robust and obviously a lover of food or drink, exited the house. His face was stern, brutal. If he had a bald head, he would greatly resemble Anders’s father. Great. Just what we need.

Those with the guard formed two columns. The guard walked Anders and Misti down it. “Jon, here they are.”

“Thank you.” Jon appraised them. “You all can leave. Come inside.” Without waiting for them, he turned around and opened the door.

Anders scurried forward to grab the door before it swung shut behind the werewolf. Some manners would be nice. But beggars couldn’t be choosers.

He held the door open for Misti. Inside was a small living room filled only with a love seat, couch, and coffee table. Already Golden was leaving it for the next room, and they trailed after him to a tiny study. On situated himself behind a desk, leaning against it and ignoring the chair behind it. “Have a seat,” he said, his tone commanding.

Neither he nor Misti moved to obey.

“Anders Kraus and Misti Wolventon.”

Anders did his best to school his features.

“Yes, we recognize your names, if not your faces. What brings the likes of a Shadowed Star and a Red Nightwalker to our door?”

“We would rather discuss this your alpha,” Misti said stiffly.