Dark Wolf (Claimed by Wolves 3) - Page 5

Sable mutters in her sleep, and I look down at her as she turns her head and nuzzles into my arm. I smile and fight the urge to touch her face, but the grin falls quickly from my face when blackness crawls across her skin.

My pulse jumps, and I almost pull away. It takes every last bit of my willpower to remain where I am, my arm still tucked beneath her face as that magic snakes over her pale flesh.

Those little signs of the witch inside her almost repulse me, and I know it’s because I’ve been programmed to hate witches. But this isn’t just any witch. This is Sable. My mate. So I shove aside the discomfort and reach out to rub my hand up and down her arm. Slowly. Tenderly, as if I’m attempting to soothe the witch away. Still lost in sleep, she mutters something else under her breath. I can’t make out the words, but eventually the black magic fades.

I lie beside her for a little while longer, watching her chest rise and fall with her breaths. The magic doesn’t come back. She’s sleeping peacefully. Fuck, I would too if the man who tormented me my whole life was finally dead and gone. I hope she’s having good dreams, her mind finally able to rest after all those years.

There’s not a chance in hell I’m falling back to sleep at this point. Not with my head in turmoil and those black marks on her skin haunting me every time I close my eyes. I extract my arm from beneath her, thankful that Dare still has her cocooned in his embrace. At my absence, she rolls over, and Trystan flings his arm around her hips until she’s encased between the two of them. They’ll keep watch over her.

That’s another thing I have to get used to, I remind myself as I grab a t-shirt from the dresser in the dark. I tug it on over my head and root around for a pair of pants. There are four men dedicated to keeping her safe now.

Instead of feeling like I’m in some kind of competition with them, I like it. There’s a constant urge inside me to protect my mate, to watch over her, and even though I realize I can’t be with her every second of every day, it’s good to know she’ll be safe while I’m gone.

That there are three other men who would do anything to keep her safe.

I leave through the front door, pausing on the front stoop to suck in a deep lungful of cool mountain air. Then I jog down the three steps to the front walk and head down the street.

The village is quiet and mostly still, since most members of my pack are still sleeping. The sun is barely beginning to lighten the horizon, and the last of the night’s stars are still winking high overhead. This cusp between late night and early morning has always felt a bit otherworldly to me, good for clearing my head so I can let go of my problems. It’s just about the only time of the day or night that I can be fully alone—no pack mates making demands of my time, no responsibilities hanging over me. Just me, the sky, and the wind in my fur.

I’m on the edge of the village, just past the council meeting house, and am about to tug off my clothes so I can shift when I hear footsteps behind me. Turning around, I watch as Grady O’Connell approaches, his footsteps heavy on the dirt road. He’s at least twenty years older than me, but he’s got the height and width of an NBA player in his prime.

It’s pretty clear he’s heading right for me, so I wait patiently for his arrival. He lifts his chin in greeting as he steps up beside me, shooting me a lopsided grin.

“Alpha Ridge. How you doin’ this mornin’?”

>

I snort, because he’s got to know the answer to that question could fill a fucking book. And he isn’t even aware of everything that happened after Lawson’s challenge yesterday.

So I just shrug one shoulder, looking out over the horizon as it begins to lighten. “Still here.”

“That you are.” He nods to himself, staring out toward the forest just like I am. “I’m glad to see it. That mate of yours. She sure is something.”

I tense slightly. I can’t quite tell from his tone whether “something” is good or bad, and brace myself for his judgment.

As if he can read my thoughts, he grins, nudging me with his elbow. “Only you could have found yourself a hybrid. Your dad would have liked her, but probably for the wrong reasons. He’d have used her as a tool against the witches, but you’re probably hoping to build bridges or some shit.”

I laugh. “Yeah. Something like that.”

Grady turns toward me, his expression growing more serious as he rubs a hand over his bald head. “I’ve got your back, alpha. You know that. And your girl, she doesn’t scare me. I think she’s good people, and the mate bond doesn’t lie.”

“Thanks for that.” I nod, my eyes narrowing slightly as I wait for the but I can sense coming.

Grady sucks at his teeth. He glances away from me, his brown eyes assessing the gathering sunrise, and then goes on. “Even though I’ve got your back, and you know quite a few of us do—not everyone will. Your girl may be a wolf, but that won’t erase the witch in her. You’re gonna have to reckon with that.”

“Yeah. I know.” I nod once, letting him know I understand exactly what he’s getting at. Then I strip off my t-shirt and drop it on the ground, itching to shift and stretch my legs in the woods. I shoot Grady a lopsided grin. “Any other pearls of wisdom for me this morning, old man?”

He laughs, then claps a hand to my shoulder and squeezes. I can feel the calluses on his fingertips, and I’m reminded what a good man he is. Strong, capable, never missed a hard day’s work in his life. And his opinion matters to me.

“Nah, that’s all the runnin’ my mouth I plan to do for today. Go get your run in. I’m gonna throw rocks at Callahan’s window till he wakes his ass up and joins me for a coffee.”

He turns and heads back up the street, and I shake my head in amusement as I watch him go. Callahan’s mate died a few years back, and for whatever reason, Grady never found himself a mate. The two men have become closer than brothers over the past few years, and I’m glad they have each other.

My attention moves back to the forest ahead of me, but Grady’s words stick with me as I step out of my pants and shift into wolf form, sprinting off toward the sunrise.

That’s what this feels like—exactly what he called it. A reckoning. We got some answers last night about how Sable came to be both a witch and a wolf, but there’s still a hell of a lot we don’t know.

Eventually, those empty spaces in our knowledge are going to come back around to haunt us.

Tags: Callie Rose Claimed by Wolves Fantasy
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