Slade (Team Greywolf 1)

Slade walked out of his quarters, then passed Cricket’s apartment and caught a whiff of sweet honey and roses. He cocked his ear. Her fingernails tapped on her laptop. He stood by the door and closed his eyes. Inhaling, listening, desiring. Imagining her red-polished fingernails strumming his cock.

The typing stopped.

Fuck.

Slade hastily left. As he turned the corner, her door slammed open. He pushed the elevator button and fortunately, it opened immediately. He stepped in, and the doors closed. Fucking sloppy. He better shift after the meeting to release his sexual tension.

As the elevator doors opened, he nearly bumped into Trevor. The alpha grinned at Slade. “We still have a few minutes to spare.”

And risk Rylee's wrath? She had an obsession with promptness. Slade narrowed his eyes at the alpha on his shit list. He disliked Trevor since he’d threatened to discipline Cricket after she’d slaughtered the bear. “In our line of work, we have no minutes to spare.”

Trevor gave him a pointed stare and then knocked on the team’s conference room. A beta opened the door and ushered them toward a long mahogany table.

Rylee sat at the head of the table, a laptop in front of her as two other betas stood behind her. Slade took a seat on Rylee's right, and Trevor sat several seats away. At least royal status afforded him some privileges.

A few betas entered and sat next to Trevor. Rylee's assistant beta handed them each a manila folder.

Rylee closed her laptop halfway. “Your assignment and documents are inside your folder.”

Trevor furrowed his brow. “I thought Dominic would be here?”

“I already faxed him the details. His team is on their way to Colorado.”

Slade’s curiosity piqued. Did Enforcer Dominic take his human mate and Cricket’s best friend with him? A wolf rarely strayed too far from his beloved mate.

“Read over your assignments. If you have any questions or concerns, speak up now.”

Slade opened his manila folder, which included a driver’s license, and a credit card. His false ID read, Slade R. Smith. His bio detailed his current job: bar bouncer. On vacation, travelling with his girlfriend to unearth info on her brother Randi. Slade’s real pack surname was Frederickson, a name that would disappear into oblivion if he never took a mate. Even more reason to play it cool around team member Cricket. His confused feelings about her had to do with sexual frustration, and nothing remotely close to being mates.

Trevor leafed through his docs and then addressed Rylee. “Any reports from Cricket?”

Rylee opened her laptop. “No lycan DNA found on their premises, but that doesn't clear any possible contacts outside their usual haunts. You'll have to nose around. This includes any humans they might have had contact with. A lost hiker, a postman, or anyone who came through their territory. You have carte blanche to follow any lead no matter how insignificant.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Trevor gathered his documents. “Anything else?”

“No, that’s all.”

They all stood.

“Prince Slade, stay.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

After the team left, Rylee narrowed his eyes at him. “This first mission will be a test.”

“Meaning?”

“If you can’t keep your fangs in and your claws withdrawn, you’ll need to return. Possibly for retraining.” Meaning the Enforcer’s discipline.

“Commander Fist says I’m ready. He doesn’t anticipate I’ll have problems with humans.”

“So he says. Dr. Warner agrees, but you are to follow Cricket’s lead.”

“Understood.” Who knew he’d someday have to take orders from a runt?

“While in the field, and in the company of humans, only use your alpha influence sparingly to gather information. Humans are weak minded and will obey your every command, so don’t let that go to your head.”

“No problem.”