Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
***
The drive home is quietly comfortable. We crawl through the narrow road as trees arch above us like sentries. Scarlet spends the time looking at her phone with an adorable V between her brows.
As we pull into the cabin's clearing, Nixon halts, lifts his head, nostrils flaring in an animal silence. “Finn.” Without a word, Finn opens the door and walks into the forest, leaving Scarlet staring after him. I step out of the vehicle and open her door, using my body to block her view of Finn, who is shifting to investigate the stench of an unfamiliar wolf that's woven around our home.
My eyes meet Nixon's over the truck, as he turns to smile at Scarlet. “I've been dreaming about those muffins all day.”
She glances over her shoulder, then back at Nixon. Her lips part, but she must decide against asking the question that lingers on her tongue because she follows us inside.
In the kitchen, I slide onto a stool as Scarlet unpacks ingredients from our well-stocked pantry: flour, sugar, and baking soda. She finds butter and eggs in the fridge, apples on the counter. Finally, she turns in my direction. “Vanilla? Cinnamon?”
“We have both.”
“I'm impressed.”
“We may be bachelors, but that doesn't mean we're incompetent heathens.”
“Who bakes when I'm not around?”
“Finn mostly,” I admit. “He has a sweet tooth.”
“It's a disgrace,” Nixon says, with an armful of meat. I know he wants to follow up with what kind of wolf prefers brownies to steak, but he can't.
Scarlet snorts and sets to preparing muffins from a recipe in her pretty head and fills the cabin with sweetness. Nixon and I prepare the fire pit, positioning the grill and cleaning vegetables. We tease about where we learned to cook: me, on weekend camping trips with my cousins; him, perfectionism taught by our mother. We laugh about how men always seem to gravitate to meat. “It's savage,” Scarlet says, but her eyes tell a different story, lingering as I turn a steak slowly to get the char just right. Wine flows, deep red and heavy in our glasses, like foreplay.
Midway through muffin baking and steak sizzling, the front door clicks, and Finn slips back in, his wolf fur sleek and black, gold wolf eyes softening when he looks at Scarlet. She gasps, stepping back, heart thudding, until I step forward to pat Finn's broad, damp shoulders. Scarlet straightens as though she's winning an internal battle to be brave. When Finn pads toward her and nuzzles her hand, the transformation in Scarlet is beautiful. Fear shifts to wonder, and strength sparks in her stance. She leans over, brushing his muzzle, and his tail flicks with gratitude. Nixon watches with the intensity of an alpha in wait.
“Where did it come from?” Scarlet asks. “Does it live outside? Does it belong to someone else?”
“Looks like it wants to belong to you,” I laugh.
She smiles almost shyly. “My apartment's barely big enough for me, let alone a giant animal. I think my super would have something to say about it. Pretty sure giant wolf-dogs are excluded from my rental agreement.”
I don't want to think about her in a tiny apartment, far away from us.
Wolf-Finn whines, making Scarlet jump, then he pads back out of the cabin. When she attempts to follow, I gently grip her elbow. “Let him go,” I say. “He likes to roam free.”
“Don't we all,” she whispers.
***
When Finn returns in human form, complete with rumpled clothing that is damp from the forest floor and warm pink cheeks, we gather outside, easing the door closed so Scarlet can't overhear. We can communicate using our mental channel but it’s harder to debate and discuss that way.
“What did you find out?” Nixon says, focusing all his attention on Finn.
“Gregory's pack. It wasn't only one. The scent of them spread through our territory like they were hunting for something.”
“Scarlet?” I ask.
Finn shrugs and takes a long tug of beer from the cool bottle he grabbed from the table. “They wanted her, but we don't know if that was planned or if she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“If not Scarlet, who?” Nixon barks.
“I don't know. There was a human scent there, too. Female. I tried to follow it, but I lost it at the stream.”
Nixon growls, scraping his hands through his hair. “We can't leave Scarlet alone, but we need to investigate this further. I want to know who was in the forest, and what Gregory's pack is planning.”
“You think they'll attack?”
He stares into the tree line, his brows drawn low like he's hoping to look into the future. Gregory is the most unhinged alpha in the state. He tried to start a war with Hunter and his brothers. I wouldn't put anything past him.
The door behind us slides open.
“Is the food ready?” Scarlet asks, bearing a plate of finished muffins.