Wolf Song (Wolf Singer Prophecies Book 1)

it back onto the mattress, inhaling her scent. I didn't lick, though I'd wanted to.
The movement made her curl over to her side fully, hand tucked beneath her face.
I hopped onto the bed and dragged the blanket over to cover her. She'd be cold.
She didn't stir. She was sleepier than I thought.
The moon was starting to fade. Tonight was the last day of the full moon. The rest of the month, the evenings would get a little trickier.
But we'd cross that bridge when we got there.
~That we will, Boss.~
For now, I just hunkered down on my side and rested at her feet.

I felt like I slept for years.
It was a strange feeling, like having a dream I’d had before.
As I opened my eyes, I thought I saw a flash of gray and brown and a brush of fur against my skin. I pushed myself up to sitting. Light peeked under the curtain and for a moment I was startled into thinking I’d overslept. Fortunately, it was still fairly pink outside. Good. It was later than I usually woke but I hadn't wasted daylight.
I saw them, then. A group of people that I’d never seen before were gathered at the edge of the tree line. I blinked and they were gone.
I shook my head, then quickly washed and dressed. I didn't know where Creed was, but if I had to guess, I’d bet he wasn’t far.
I bounded downstairs and found him standing by the front living room window. He leaned against the frame, arms crossed over his chest so that his muscles bunched up and stretched the fabric of his sleeve, not that I paid much attention to all that. His compromise for comfort was to take off the jacket that he wore last night leaving him in a long-sleeve henley and cargo pants.
He had his profile angled toward me as he looked outside. It was like he was in a staring contest with nature itself. His pensive mood gave him an intensity that made me think of vipers about to strike.
“Morning,” I called out to him.
He turned toward me, straightening up to his full height, arms relaxed at his sides as I came into view. "Good morning, Soleil. Did you sleep well?" His words dripped smooth honey.
I didn't want to think about the fact that I was nearly drooling. What the hell was wrong with me? My reaction irritated me more than anything else.
I shrugged as a half-answer to his question. "Yeah, fine." I wasn't about to admit that it was the first good night's rest that I had in a while. Perhaps since before my dad disappeared. "So, are you just waiting for me to tell you that you can open the door and let in the people who've been waiting at the tree line?"
He smiled a decidedly wolfish kind of grin. "Well, I didn't want to bother you with that, but kind of, yes."
I just shrugged again, and headed toward the door. The glyphs that warded it were no longer visible in the daylight. I intended to head out to the chicken coop and inspect the fence line like I normally would, and instead I stopped short.
Waiting for me on the porch was a man who blocked my way. I looked up. And I kept looking up over miles of coppery-bronze skin until my gaze locked onto his face. His shaven head emphasized the enviable curl of his dark lashes that framed his dark eyes. He cocked his head to the side, the sheen of silver like captured moonlight apparent now in his movement.
This man was easily the most beautiful thing that ever graced the earth.
"Good morning," the stranger said, midnight coating his voice. "You must be Soleil. You can call me Vin."
I blinked. It was like my brain was having trouble processing simple words let alone the fact that some large creature was barring my way. And he kept blinking at me like I was supposed to say something in return.
Was I supposed to say something in return? Had he asked a question?
As I was trying to recall whatever he might have said, I felt Creed at my back. "Vin, so good of you to join us."
Vin's lip curled in a surly amusement. "I'm so happy that I was invited."
Something about his tone made it seem like the opposite was true.
I swallowed. I didn't want to be in the middle of two strangers, let alone men who seemed about to throw down.
“Uhm, hi,” I said to this Vin person. My strangely-timed greeting produced the desired effect. Vin’s attention turned back toward me, the crackling tension in the air evaporating.
“Hi,” he replied, this time with an added smile that showed a bit of fang.
When I would have said another “hi,” a flash of movement caught my eye. A man, lean and golden, sauntered up the walk like he didn’t have a care in the world. His long sable hair was unbound and floated past his shoulders. It was streaked through with platinum, copper, and black, and my hands itched to touch that glorious mane.
Self-assured and relaxed, wearing jeans and a plaid shirt, all he needed were a couple of beer bottles dangling from his fingers to complete the look.
His eyes, though, told a different story. His body language might have made him look like he was ready to sit a spell on the porch, yet his eyes darted restlessly from the property line, the house, and the sky above. "Now, now. Why we all crowding the poor girl?” He climbed the porch, in two steps. He held his hand out to me. “Come on, now. Let's get you away from these two and over here by me."
I cocked my brow at him, ignoring the proffered hand. “And who might you be?"
He ignored the fact that I rebuffed his touch. "You can call me Remy."
My eyebrow notched up some more. I thought it was funny that so far not one of them had ever claimed their