"You had help. I could have taken you. Back in the cabin, I had you beat until he showed up."
"No, you and Eddie had me. Without Eddie, you'd have been screwed. So we both had help. But in the end? You were outsmarted, outlasted and outfought. As much crap as you pumped into your body, it didn't change the fact that at heart you're a coward who likes to beat up helpless humans."
He bucked and snarled. "That's not about fighting. It's--"
"About sex? Hell, no. It's not about sex, Travis. It's about dominance. And, apparently, the only women you can dominate are helpless ones. Put you up against a female of your own species and look what happened. Outmatched." I leaned down, and lowered my voice. "And outclassed."
I snapped his neck.
SURVIVOR
NICK HAD TAKEN cell phone shots of the mutts from the house, then some of Tesler before we buried him. He figured the Shifters might demand proof before returning Noah. I was sure pictures from a cell phone weren't what they'd have in mind, but I didn't stop Nick.
The Russian Pack might expect proof, too, and this would be what they wanted. Plus, having pictures showing an entire upstart pack wiped out by us in a few hours might be something to have on hand if there were any questions about the Pack's power after my ascension was announced. So I let Nick take photos, and just warned him to upload them and get them wiped off his camera before we went through airport security.
After I assured them I was fine and Clay set my finger with a makeshift splint, Clay and Nick buried Tesler. While they were doing that, I took his clothing and ID back to the cottage, where Antonio was burning everything in the fireplace. I got about halfway there when a familiar scent wafted past. I turned to see a shape hidden in a thick patch of trees, silently watching me. Our wolf friend.
"Come by to make sure we kept up our end of the deal?" I called as I walked over. "We did. They're all dead except one, and he won't be coming back. Thanks for helping find the others. I appreciate that."
"You're welcome."
The voice startled me. I'd figured he was still in wolf form. As the figure rose, I had to sniff again, making sure it was the same werewolf. If I'd been asked to picture him, I'd have guessed he'd be older, living out a midlife crisis by exploring that other side of himself, as Dennis had been. He was younger than me, though. Late twenties. Dark reddish-brown hair to his shoulders, lean with a narrow face, high cheekbones and piercing green eyes. Native blood, I guessed. And he was dressed. To be honest, that surprised me, too. I didn't expect him naked, but maybe just wearing a fur thrown around him or clothing stolen from a nearby cabin. The clothes were clearly his, though--a leather jacket, jeans, T-shirt, Doc Marten boots...
"Not what you expected?" he said.
"No," I lied. "I'm just trying to place the accent." Actually, I didn't need to place it at all--that singsong mishmash of British, Irish and Canadian was unmistakable. "Newfoundland or Labrador?"
That made him smile, if briefly. "Both, now and again," he said. "They both have their charms."
"I'll bet. I've only been out there once, but--"
A low growl cut me short. I glanced over to see a gray wolf peering around a tree. It was the one I'd seen earlier with him. She growled again, lips fluttering over sharp white teeth.
"I'm okay," he said, drawing it out, more reassuring growl than words. "Go on now."
She backed up, but only to sit down, death stare fixed on me.
"She thinks you're checking out a new mate," I said.
"New...?" He stared, then sputtered a laugh. "Exactly how native do you think I've gone? Or maybe you just answered my question."
"I just thought--Well, I mean, if you prefer wolf form... Anyway, I think she considers you her mate."
"That she does, but I've not been encouraging her. She's a very nice girl, but it just wouldn't work out."
"That's a relief." I extended a hand. "Elena Michaels."
"Oh, I know who you are. We aren't as isolated on the Rock as you might think."
"Are there more of you out there? More werewolves?"
He shook my hand. "Morgan Walsh."
"In other words, if you do have family there, you aren't telling me. If they've been living there awhile and the Pack doesn't know it, then they're flying far enough below the radar that we'll keep pretending we don't know. So to change the subject, how long have you been...?" I glanced at the gray wolf.
"Running with the wolves? Well, it was the strangest thing. One day I came out to Alaska on a trip, I went for a run and totally forgot I could Change back. Luckily this wolf pack took pity on the poor dumb Newfie and took him in."
"Uh-huh."