Wolfsong (Green Creek 1)

His eyes flickered down to my open work shirt, his gaze crawling along my neck. “The human mated to an Alpha,” he said. “But you haven’t mated. Not yet.”

“We will.”

Robbie grinned. It was a nice smile, though I didn’t trust it. “Romantic,” he said.

“How many wolves are looking for Richard Collins?” I asked.

He flinched. It was a small thing, and I didn’t know if it was the question or the change in conversation, but it was there. I noticed these little things now.

He said, “Many.”

“And how many is that?”

The smile slid from his face, and I thought his eyes flashed orange. “Seven teams,” he said. “Made up of four wolves each. A coven is also involved. Because of Livingstone.”

“And Osmond?”

“He’ll be found.”

“It’s been six weeks.”

“These things take time. Where is your Alpha? I need to pay my respects. And there are others. Brothers, I’m told. And the Livingstone heir.”

“You were told.”

“I am very good at what I do,” he said.

I snorted. “O

bviously. If they sent you.”

We were quiet. The grandfather clock in the hallway ticked the seconds by.

It was a waiting game.

I didn’t look away.

Funnily enough, Robbie did, after a while.

He averted his eyes down and to the left. His head bowed slightly. I didn’t understand because it was something I’d seen others do to Thomas. It was a sign of—

“He’s gone, isn’t he?” Robbie said.

I didn’t speak.

Robbie sighed. “Shit.”

Three little pinpricks burst along the faint threads in the pack bonds.

Elizabeth and Mark sighed on either side of me, soft and low.

They were coming, and I closed my eyes, wondering when this had happened. When they’d become like mine. Like ours. I could track them, almost. They’d be here in a few minutes. They were traveling fast.

“He went after him?” Robbie asked. “After Richard.”

“He did what he thought he had to,” I said.

“He’s the Alpha,” Robbie said, sounding slightly horrified, “and he left the territory? And the pack?”