Heartsong (Green Creek 3)

I tilted my head to the side, exposing my neck. I flashed my eyes at the Alpha.

“We mean you no harm,” I said in a low voice. “I come on behalf of the Alpha of all, who sends her regards. Alpha Hughes is worried about you. She hasn’t heard from you in a while.”

“We’re fine,” the bigger brother growled. “We don’t need you. Go away.”

“John,” the Alpha snapped. She turned her head to the side, though she never took her gaze away from me. “Not another word.”

John looked like he was going to argue, but he snapped his mouth closed instead, glaring at me.

The Alpha said, “If I asked you to leave and tell Alpha Hughes that we appreciate her concern, would you?”

“Probably not,” I said honestly. “And even if we did, we would have to come back, and possibly in greater numbers.”

The brothers didn’t like that. Their fangs dropped.

“But I don’t want that to happen,” I added quickly. “I’d rather it stay just between us.”

The Alpha laughed, though there was no humor in it. “Just between us. And whoever else you tell upon your return.”

She was smart. I would do well to remember that. “Only those who need to know. I’m not one to spread the business of packs to those it doesn’t concern.”

She was quiet, always watching. Then, “Who are you?” She glanced over at the car and then back at me. “And who’s the witch?”

“He’s Ezra. The witch to the Alpha of all.”

She looked confused. “I thought—what happened to her previous witch?”

I didn’t know what she was talking about. Ezra had been Michelle’s witch for a long time. “I think you might be mistaken. I’ve only ever known Ezra. But I haven’t been there long. Perhaps there was someone else, but it’s him now.”

She nodded slowly. “And you are?”

“Robbie. Robbie Fontaine.”

The brothers continued to scowl at me.

The Alpha’s expression never changed.

But the older man…. It was fleeting, the barest of expressions. There and gone.

As if he knew my name.

My reputation must have preceded me. I didn’t know if that was good or not.

“Robbie,” the Alpha said. “Robbie Fontaine.”

“Yes.”

And she asked, “Who are you?” like it was more than just a question, more than what the words seemed to indicate.

Little wolf, little wolf, can’t you see?

It tugged.

It pulled.

“I am the second to Alpha Hughes,” I said, and the urge to shift was harsh and grating.

She shook her head. “I know that. I can see that. That’s not what I’m asking.”