61. Tate
Tate
Thirty minutes earlier
Itossed the keys to my truck at Tobias. “Take that idiot back to campus.”
“Are you not coming?” Tobias asked while Tank stood in a sulk, having squeezed his ass into a pair of too small shorts.
I noticed the big bastard kept glancing toward the shadowy perimeter while sniffing the air. Fuck my life. He had better not let his wolf loose again. Twice in one evening would seal his fate with the Shifter Council; those fuckers needed no excuse to issue an arrest warrant.
“I’m going to shift and run back.” Dad would already have heard the news, so there was no point rushing to face his wrath. And besides, my wolf was antsy as hell. He needed to let off some steam as much as I did. It was go for a run or kill someone.
“Okay, fine,” Tobias said with a huff. “I’ll play babysitter and get our friend here back safely.”
“Fuck you,” Tank grumbled. The pair of them climbed into my truck, still bickering. I waited until the truck’s taillights disappeared down the long driveway before I jogged over to the side gate that led into the forest.
A faint hint of burned sugar riled my wolf up as I strode into the thick trees and stripped off my clothes. After shaking my head to clear the beguiling scent from my nose, my wolf surged forward and took control.
The forest smelled of wet leaves and fragrant pine.
Small creatures fled in panic as my wolf loped along the trail, but he paid them no attention.
He wasn’t in the mood for games tonight, too focused on following a scent trail.
I zoned out and let my mind wander as we ran at a steady pace, stopping occasionally to sniff a tree or bush.
This evening had been a disaster. Dad already thought Tank was a liability, and nothing I said to defend my friend would change his mind.
Dad wouldn’t want the Shifter Council sticking their noses into the Frosthaven pack’s business, and by extension, ours. Not with all his shady business deals going on. Deals I had yet to unravel.
I wondered how best to frame this mess. Perhaps I could spin it as a show of dominance to highlight how powerful our combined packs were. He might go for that, especially if I said the weasel shifters were behind it all. Dad hated weasels, declaring them untrustworthy and weak.
My wolf slowed again and growled, sniffing the air. He’d picked up a bear’s scent. A bear shifter, not a wild bear, and from his reaction, this bear wasn’t bumbling around the forest for fun.
I focused on what my wolf could hear and smell.
The burned sugar scent he’d detected earlier seemed more intense.
Had the little female come this way? Surely not.
This trail led back to Moonfall Academy and being out this late was dangerous for such a small shifter.
Wild wolves roamed the forest at night, and from what I’d heard, there had been at least one feral wolf shifter attack in these parts over the last month.
My wolf growled when a distant roar echoed through the trees. He bounded forward, intent on tracking this new threat to us. We passed something white on the ground—clothing?—before the old chapel came into view.
A frightened whimper reached us, and I knew immediately the female from the ball was here and in grave danger.