Dark Wolf

me and my men. More sure of it than anything I’ve ever known in my life.
“So what happened out there?” Amora asks, and I’m surprised to find she’s addressing me.
I glance around at the men, but Archer gives me a nod of encouragement. I launch into an explanation of how we went to the small town where I grew up and found that Uncle Clint wasn’t home. So we tracked him to a nearby bar and waited for him to emerge, then followed him as he walked toward his house. But once we turned off the main road and onto the long driveway that led through trees back to his house, he whirled around and launched an attack, trying to take us out by magic.
Unluckily for him, my mates aren’t so easily fooled. I tell Amora how they fought back and managed to subdue him, pinning him down so we could question him. But when it comes time to reveal what he said about me, I can’t form the words.
Archer takes over the narrative. “It turns out, Sable’s uncle isn’t really her blood relative. He somehow convinced or forced a witch and a shifter to mate, and Sable was the result.”
“Holy shit. So you really are half wolf, half witch. That’s crazy,” Amora says, shaking her head in amazement. “Did he say why he did it? Why he wanted to create you?”
I open my mouth and then immediately close it. Should I tell Amora he meant me to be a weapon against the shifters?
But Ridge cuts in before I have to make that choice. “We aren’t certain, though I’m fucking sure it wasn’t for anything good. He attacked us again, trying to break free, and was killed in the fight before we could get more information.”
That’s not a lie, really. It stands to reason any witch who experimented with a half-shifter, half-witch baby wasn’t doing it for benevolent reasons. But the way Ridge glossed over the truth sends a pang through me. Does he have the same worries I do? About my witch having a mind of her own?
What if I really am the enemy?
Archer speaks up. “He did mention that there’s someone out there who might cause problems for Sable, should she find her. I’m assuming he was talking about another witch, someone he might have worked with or known previously. He didn’t seem to be part of a coven, but that doesn’t mean he’s always been on his own.”
“Damn,” Amora says quietly, then reaches out to take my hand. “That’s some heavy shit, girl. But don’t feel bad or feel alone, and definitely don’t try to shoulder this burden alone, okay? You’ve got four strapping men at your back. And me too.”
I squeeze her fingers and give her my best smile, which is kind of a lame one at this point. Despite my worries, I’m thankful to Amora. She’s the first true female friend I’ve ever had, and the easy way she shows affection makes up for my own awkwardness. Plus, her confident, no-nonsense presence is a nice balance to all the testosterone.
We discuss things for a while longer as we finish our drinks, but there aren’t any more answers to be wrung out from the night’s events. Eventually, Amora stands and stretches, then carries her empty glass to the sink.
“I’ll do whatever I can to help you get the packs on board with the situation,” she says as Ridge and I walk her to the door. “Just say the word.”
“I appreciate that.” Ridge dips his chin in a nod.
“Me too. Truly,” I add, swaying on my feet slightly. It’s a little from the whiskey, and a lot from the exhaustion.
Ridge notices the movement and slips his arm around my waist. “Amora, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?”
“You got it.” Amora kisses my cheek and then disappears into the night.
He bolts the door behind her, then turns and sweeps me up into his arms in a fireman’s carry. “Come on, little wolf. You’re dead on your feet.”
I lay my head on his shoulder and close my eyes, breathing in his intoxicating scent. We’re joined at the bedroom door by the rest of my mates, and then as one, we crawl into Ridge’s bed without even discussing our sleeping arrangements.
There’s nothing to discuss. I’m sure they feel exactly as I do—that sleep won’t come unless I can feel all four of them touching me.
Ridge curls around my back, and Trystan slides in on the other side, his face resting against my stomach. Dare spoons up behind him, and he presses his forehead to mine, passing out almost instantly, while Archer curls up against my legs. It’s a strange sort of arrangement, and it reminds me of the way we might all sleep together in wolf form, bodies all curled around each other’s in a messy pile. But it’s perfect.
Cocooned in the safety and warmth of my mates, I finally sleep.

3


Ridge
I open my eyes to the thick darkness of night, but I can sense the sun over the horizon. My wolf recognizes that electrified feeling in the air that means the start of a new day is just around the corner. In the past, if I woke up this early, I might shift and race into the wilderness, relishing the air in my lungs and the power in my legs. I might watch the sun rise over the mountains, taking in the beauty of the Montana wilderness around me.
But getting out of bed now would mean leaving Sable.
She’s lying on my arm, her golden hair spread over my skin and her breathing deep and even. Her face is turned a little away from me, so I roll slowly onto my side to get a better view of her, pausing as I catch Archer’s shoulder with my knee. But he only sighs in his sleep and rests his head against Sable’s bare legs without waking up.
Glad he can fucking sleep, I think, brushing Sable’s hair away from her face