And this wolf wanted to hunker down before it.
But I wasn't just wolf, and the other half of my soul bared its teeth and got ready for a fight. I locked my knees and skimmed my gaze up to his hair. Thick and red. Definitely red pack. Definitely my red pack. But who?
As I dropped my gaze to his, recognition stirred again. I knew those eyes, knew the cold superiority behind them. But I'd be damned if I could dredge up a name.
"Why are you calling me?"
Though the question was soft, my voice seemed to echo across the silent night. A tremor ran down my spine, and I wasn't sure whether it was due to the chill wind hitting my bare arms and legs or the sudden sense of trepidation creeping through my soul.
Amusement sparked briefly in the translucent gray depths. "You do not remember me?"
"Should I have any reason to remember you?"
This time, the amusement reached his thin lips, "I would think you'd remember the wolf who threw you off a mountainside."
Shock rolled through me. Oh my God...
Blake.
My grandfather's second-in-command, and the wolf who would have killed both Rhoan and me if he could. The wolf who almost had when he'd thrown me off that cliff. Ostensibly to teach Rhoan a lesson about never back-talking the pack second.
Hate followed the shock, swirling thick and sharp. I clenched my fists, and found myself fighting the sudden urge to puch the cold amusement from his lips. But he wasn't here, he wasn't real, and I'd only look like a fool. So I simply said, voice low and venomous, "What right have you got to call me?"
"My right is pack-given."
"The Jenson pack ceded its rights over me and Rhoan when they kicked us out."
"Pack rights are never surrendered, no matter what the situation. Once a pack member, always a pack member."
"You threatened to kill us if you ever saw us again."
"A statement that still stands."
"So why the hell are you contacting me? Fuck off and leave me alone. Trust me, I want as little to do with you as you with me."
I turned on my heel and began to walk back down the beach. Part of me might have been curious as to why he was contacting me, but curiosity didn't have a hope against old anger and hurt None of which I wanted to relive in any way.
"You will listen to what I have to say, Riley."
"Fuck off," I said, without looking at him. Even as my wolf cowered deep within at my audacity.
"You mil stop and listen, young wolf."
His voice was sharp and powerful, seeming to echo through the trees. I stopped. I couldn't help it. My very DNA was patterned with the need to obey my alpha. It would take a great deal of strength to disobey and, right now, it seemed I had none.
Even so, I didn't turn around. Didn't look at him. "Why the hell should I listen?"
"Because I demand it."
I snorted softly. "I was never one to listen to demands. You of all people should know that."
"So very true. And it was one of the reasons you and your brother were ostracized." Amusement laced his harsh tones. "Your grandfather feared one of you would challenge him."
Surprise rippled through me and I swung around.
He was still in the trees, still in the shadows. Maybe afraid that the wind from the beach would blow him away. "Why would my grandfather fear that? Neither Rhoan nor I were allowed the illusion we were anything more than an inconvenience to our mother and the pack. And inconveniences don't rule." Especially if they were female. Or gay.
"You have a long pattern of doing the unexpected, Riley."