Wanderlust With Wolves (Greetings from Monster Town)

Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

THE COLOR RED

Ronan

The rowdiness of the wulver bar is exactly what I need.

I don’t have to participate. Don’t have to be the loudest or the wildest.

I can just sit back, melt into the background, and be surrounded by kin.

The job is done—the northern boundary has been expanded, the patrols secured. The night is for drinking, unwinding, reveling in the simple pleasure of completing something hard and knowing the territory is safe.

Vane, of course, is in the thick of it all.

I barely acknowledge him when he drops into the seat across from me, a fresh mug of ale in hand, his eyes already glinting with mischief.

“You really planning to sit here all night?” he drawls.

I grunt, stretching my legs out beneath the table. “Wouldn’t be the worst way to spend it.”

Vane snorts. “So, not partaking in the Sweetheart Wilds Festival?”

I lift my mug, unbothered. “I’ll wait for the party to finish.”

Then—before I can stop myself?—

“And then I’ll go check on Maya.”

Vane grins like I just gave him the best gossip of the year. “Yeah? That so?”

I narrow my eyes. “Don’t start.”

He smirks, taking a slow sip of ale. “Funny, though. Luna mentioned Maya’s already getting involved.”

A beat.

My fingers tighten instinctively around my mug. “What?”

“She’s picking out ribbons right now,” Vane says, utterly too casual.

A violent, possessive need surges through me so fast it steals my breath.

I shoot to my feet, chair scraping against the wood.

Already, my nose is searching for her scent, my instincts roaring to the surface.

No one.

No one should be tracking her but me.

Vane laughs, shaking his head as I storm past him. “What happened to waiting ‘til after?”

I don’t answer.

I’m already in my truck, tearing down the mountain toward the lodge.

I find Luna outside the lodge, arranging small decorative baskets, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

She doesn’t even turn when she hears my approach—but I know she smells my frustration, because her tail flicks in amusement.

“You’re early,” she says sweetly.

I don’t bother with pleasantries.

“Maya.” My voice rumbles. “Where is she?”

Luna finally looks at me, her expression too knowing.

“The chase doesn’t start until midnight, dear brother. You know that.”

I clench my jaw so tightly it aches. “Where. Is. She?”

Luna just smiles.

“She’s getting a head start on decorating the path,” she says.

I’m about to demand more, but then Luna tilts her head, golden eyes glinting.

“Oh,” she purrs. “And she picked red ribbons.”

The world stops.

My vision narrows.

Blood roars in my ears.

Red.

Not innocent white for friendship.

Not soft gold for conversation.

Not even blue, for those seeking partnership.

Red.

Red is a signal. A declaration. A choice.

Red means sex.

A low, guttural sound escapes me.

Luna laughs softly, flicking a ribbon between her fingers. “Struck a nerve, have I?”

I don’t bother responding.

I tear away from the lodge, already catching Maya’s scent on the wind.

The forest is quiet except for the rustling of trees, the hush of wind over the lake.

I follow her trail, instincts kicking into overdrive, muscles coiled tight with need.

Then, in the distance, I spot it?—

A single, perfectly tied red bow.

I snatch it from the branch, turning the ribbon over in my claws.

Delicate. Pretty.

A promise.

My jaw tightens, chest heaving as I roll the ribbon between my fingers.

She’s marking a path—unraveling a thread I have every intention of following.

Every ribbon she’s tied?

Mine.

Every step she’s taken?

Mine.

I’ll collect them all, one by one?—

And when I catch her?

She’ll know exactly who she belongs to.