The Alpha (The Pack 3)

A quick sniff revealed she’d left the immediate area and I scanned the ground, picking up droplets of blood before they stopped next to a vacant parking space. She’d driven off but I had no doubt she’d be back. I’d picked up on some of the stuff she’d done from Jess’ thoughts, and it didn’t seem likely that she’d come to make amends.

I cleared the corner of the two story motel and immediately spotted Trent standing there with Monster. Monster’s russet head gleamed in the fading sunlight and acted as a beacon against the dark shadows of the forest. I knew he’d be a distinctive wolf one day and was eager to be there for his first shift. A shift that was hopefully still a few years away, I thought to myself, not really believing it though. Monster was exceptional for a five year old human much less a shifter. He’d immediately recognized me as something other than human, a trait that didn’t normally manifest itself until puberty. He was also highly intelligent and self-composed for his age. Facts that would help if he did have his first shift at a young age, which was fast becoming a reality we couldn’t escape.

“Reinforcements,” Trent cried as he shoved his hand through his hair, a familiar tell that he was upset. His hair ruffled, a few strands standing upright as he smiled grimly. Trent was a uniquely colored wolf because his fur resembled his hair color, neither of which could decide what color it wanted to be. He had red, brown, blonde, and black strands that mottled into a blend of fur that was barely discernable in the forest.

“You have my cookies,” Monster demanded, hand already out to take them. I tossed them at him, the bossy little shit, as I eyed Trent.

“What happened?” I asked, watching as Monster started to set cookies on the ground, working his way to the edge of the forest. Trent rolled his shoulders uncomfortably, his eyes constantly scanning the forest.

“I was pulled in after the fact but from what I can determine, Wren opened the door to their room and Dylan darted out.”

“Where’s Wren?” I asked carefully and Trent’s gaze darted to mine before going back to the forest. I let out a few choice curses until Monster’s head came up. I pointed at him, “Don’t repeat those.”

“I’ve heard Jess say worse,” he told me before going back to laying cookies down. I shrugged, pretty sure a couple of those curses I’d learned from Jess myself.

“Anybody go after her?” I asked automatically, already suspecting the answer. Trent shook his head.

“Mr. Carter came and got me right after it happened. Apparently, they’d gone to visit Wren and Dylan when he slipped out,” Trent replied.

“Dylan,” I paused, not sure how to describe the special wolf shifter. He was a true rarity in our world. A Down syndrome child born with the shifter gene who had been allowed to live. Not only that, but he was a massive wolf, rivaling my own considerable form. He was in his late teens and had been abused and neglected by the Hanley pack, protected only by his sister, Wren, and my own sister, Sam. When Wren had begged asylum for him, Caleb had reluctantly agreed under pressure from us, but Dylan had proven uncommunicative in wolf form and able to resist the command of his Alpha, facts that made him dangerous.

“He’s not dangerous,” Monster said stoutly, never glancing up as he denied my words. I grimaced, not having realized I’d said the last part out loud.

I exchanged a glance with Trent, who lifted his hands in a what can you do gesture. “Not dangerous,” Trent echoed as he twirled a white sucker stick between his fingers. The fact that the candy was gone from the stick would have told me his current mood if our shared pack bond hadn’t already. I rubbed my jaw, feeling the sharp prickle of a beard forming, as I contemplated what the next move should be.

“Wren,” I said, allowing a hint of question into my voice. I didn’t like the fact that she was wandering the woods with Dylan loose.

Trent rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. “I stayed with the kid.” I nodded, he’d made the right choice, but it still meant she was out there, unprotected.

“I’m not a kid,” Monster muttered, the words almost inaudible except he was standing between two shifters with exceptional hearing.

“You’re five,” Trent enunciated and I pressed my lips together to stop a smile. I nudged his arm, motioning for him to step away from Monster so we could speak. He sent one last glace toward the boy before he followed me, the sucker stick now clamped firmly between his teeth.

“There’s more,” I murmured, pitching my voice low enough I knew there was zero chance of Monster hearing me. “Jess’s mom showed up a few minutes ago.” Trent sent me a questioning glance and I lowered my voice further. “She’s a breeder.”