Charmed Wolf

every precaution to prevent harm to your pack.”
“Are you finished?”
He nodded once, a slow dip of his chin.
“Then it’s your turn to listen to me now.” I enunciated slowly to make sure he got the message. “There are no fae here.”
None but the one my grandfather had made a deal with. The Guardian, who slept...mostly.
Rune didn’t lean in closer, yet his persimmon scent consumed me. “You sound certain, but you had no idea I bore fae blood until I revealed that fact.”
Even when I’d used his true name, Rune hadn’t released me from his alpha compulsion. But now his agitation did what the true name hadn’t. Tingles of feelings shot back into my fingertips. My hands continued their earlier aborted trajectory before I could freeze them into stillness.
Fork crossed over knife atop my plate. And Megan must have been hovering right behind me, waiting for the signal.
Because something cold and gloppy poured over my back, my front, my head. I was drenched in milkshake, rich and sweet and full of chocolate. Curls flattened, clinging to my jawline. I swiped one hand across my face to clear it of the dripping mess.
I hadn’t heard him move, but Rune was standing by the time I pried my eyes back open. The kindness was gone from his face now. Instead his features had frozen into a mask, pure beauty so perfect it was horrible.
This time, he didn’t use my name. Just my title. “There was no need for evasive action, Alpha. I get the picture. I’ll take that as a no.”

Chapter 4
“Alpha, the moon will rise in fifteen minutes.”
“I know,” I told the sentry who’d stopped my car. Digging the ID placard out from under my shirt, I held it out to be scanned.
Ever since Father died, everyone coming in and out of pack central had their ID checked. Now, with Butch’s tale of unbound fae in the area, I was more glad than ever of the security. Even if this particular sentry’s chattiness seemed inclined to make me late.
“And your human friend is here,” he continued rather than raising the gate arm.
I frowned. That was unexpected. “Natalie?”
“Should I have kept her out?” The sentry’s eyes fell to the gravel of the driveway. “Her ID worked. So did the kid’s.” He winced, then admitted: “I didn’t scan the baby.”
An oversight. No wonder his wolf was terrified, almost whimpering despite the human skin that housed his vocal cords.
I rested a hand on his shoulder, calming his inner animal. “You did nothing wrong.”
After all, even fae couldn’t hide themselves in the form of a squalling baby. Glamour only went so far.
On the other hand, Natalie’s presence pointed to another sort of problem. She understood that my nightly round of challenges would begin as soon as the moon rose. She’d only have come at this hour if there was a real emergency.
I leapt out of the car, leaving it for the sentry to park, then broke into a run.
As I sprinted, my brain rewrote my schedule. Looked like I wouldn’t have time to shower. Would fight with dried chocolate caking my fur together. Didn’t matter. Instead, I headed straight for the third living room of the huge Whelan mansion, the one with plush couches that Natalie’s son had liked to hide behind as a small child.
Kale had been Katrina then. A girl rather than the young man he was growing into. Still, a change in gender hadn’t changed his affinity for the animal carvings on the arms and legs of the couches. I knew Natalie would be waiting in his favorite room.
And she was. It was lighter inside than out, so I could see them easily through the sliding glass door panels. Natalie perched on the edge of the eagle-footed couch, long hair loose the way she wore it when not in the lab. Kale was closer to the door, an androgynous silhouette with shoulders rounded.
That was familiar and expected. Two things, however, jarred.
The first was a pile of luggage sufficient to fuel a three-week journey. And the second? The eleven-month-old baby wriggling in Natalie’s lap.
I froze. Natalie usually found a sitter to keep the infant when we got together, so I hadn’t seen it in quite a while. I’d never been a fan of the stickiness of infants, but now the sight of tiny fingers didn’t make me wince. Instead, adrenaline coursed through me, demanding fight or flight.
If I wanted to remain Alpha, I’d have to bear one of those. Soon. An Heir who wouldn’t speak English. Who’d cry for no particular reason. Who’d break if it was dropped.
I’d never been a fan of babies. Having one of my own was a duty I’d hoped to put off for a long, long time.
I might have stood there forever if Kale hadn’t tapped on the glass between us. His eyebrows rose as he met my gaze, proving he’d noticed me even though my attention had been riveted upon his little sister.
At twelve, Kale was shorter than me by a few inches, his pale hair sticking out into chunks that were as much spikes as curls. He cradled a potted plant in his hands, which wasn’t entirely out of character but was odd nonetheless. “Are you coming in?” he mouthed.
I was. Of course I was. The fact my feet had turned away from the glass was irrelevant.
I opened the door. Tousled Kale’s hair to incite a duck and giggle. Tamped down my own issues as I turned to face Natalie.
“What’s wrong?”
Because not only was she here at an entirely inappropriate hour with a baby she knew I wasn’t a fan of, an ocean-like tang of salt had filled the air as soon as the glass barrier no longer separated us. Her eyes were red. She’d been crying gallons of tears.
Forgetting the baby, I slid onto the sofa beside her. “Who,” I added, “should I kill?”
“You always sound like you mean that literally,” Kale observed. He’d returned to leaning against the sliding door, an