Wolfsong (Green Creek 1)

But there was blackness in my head.

There was murder in my heart.

And it felt real.

I couldn’t move.

The wolves waited.

Somewhere, a killdeer called out from the trees. An odd bird, it was. Singing at night.

I thought the whole forest could be holding its breath.

From behind me, Gordo said, “They’re waiting for you.”

I didn’t turn to look at him. I couldn’t. Not while the wolves were watching me.

“You’re part of them,” he said. “You’re part of this.”

That little voice, that mean little voice whispered in my ear again, saying I never really had a choice in the matter. That if they’d just stayed away, none of this would have happened. And I wouldn’t be feeling as guilty as I was.

And my mother would be in the kitchen. Popping soap bubbles on my ear.

Carter whined at me, soft and low, ears drooping.

Because he could probably feel what I was thinking. Maybe not in so many words or specifics, but he would get the gist of it.

They all would.

So I swallowed it down and let it slide down my throat. It burned.

I felt Gordo’s hand on my shoulder.

Out of the corner of my eye, his tattoos pulsed and writhed.

“You feel it too,” I said.

He sighed. It was the only answer I needed.

I shrugged off his hand.

Took a step forward. And then another. And then another.

Until I’d taken my place. Next to Joe.

I knelt down beside him. My shoulder bumped his. He was stiff, unmoving. He stared down at his father, bloodred eyes glowing in the dark.

Something settled when I took my place next to him.

It wasn’t much, especially not in the face of all that had happened.

But it was there.

Because he was my Alpha now.

And I was his mate.

“WHY DO you howl?” I’d asked Thomas.