Page 1

Chapter

One

Rory Calhoun was…itchy.

Not bored, necessarily. He had a lot to do. Shipments to distribute from his uncles and shit. Kids to watch when the omega wolves needed a babysitter and some adult time with their mates.

He loved it. He really did. He wasn’t lonely like he had been down at the little outpost where he’d grown up. The pack had taken him in. But he was still…restless.

His feet itched, so he started walking, needing to maybe go to the stream and wander along the banks.

The children were roaming now that summer was in full swing, coming home filthy and exhausted, snarfing up their suppers, taking their baths, and collapsing. There was way less in the way of weaving, knitting, and crocheting.

Canning. All the ladies and many of the male omegas were canning, and while Rory knew the basics of all that, he was just in the way, really. He would deliver some of the canned goods down to the trading post to sell at some point, but they only needed so many people chopping veg…

So he was on his own for a hot minute, and he was loving it.

Seriously. Just loving it.

Even if he was restless.

God, he was such a dork.

He grabbed a couple of flat rocks to skip, because that had always been one of his favorite things when the water levels were down in the summer.

A low growl had him tilting his head, his nostrils flaring. “Who’s there?”

He heard the sound again, and he tried to decide whether to crouch down at the stream level or try to fade into the woods. His heart pounded, and sweat gathered on his skin.

He couldn’t take a wolf. He knew it. He was just a guy.

Rory took a deep breath. “Hey. I’m not here to trespass or anything. I can move along. Seriously. I’m one of Keegan and Jameson’s pack.”

A huge silvery-gray wolf stepped out of the brush on the other side of the creek, padding forward, head down, teeth bared.

Oh, shit. Shit.Don’t run, he told himself.That just makes you prey. How many times had Zeke told him that.Hopefully, that crazy dragon had the right of it, even if he was across some damn mythical veil now.

“Hey, I don’t want trouble.” The wolf’s markings were unfamiliar, his coloring not like the reddish tones of most of the pack…

Then Rory saw the bloody wound on the wolf’s left shoulder.

“Oh no! Oh, honey. Let me get you help.” He grabbed his phone, not even hesitating.

A sharp bark made him almost drop the phone.

“I swear. I’m just getting someone here who can help. I suck at medical shit.”

The wolf waded into the water, coming ever closer, and he wondered for a crazy moment if this was one of the wolves Jameson had banished a while back. Like a bad-guy wolf.

He glanced into bright blue eyes. No.

No, he didn’t believe that was the case.

“No attacking. I’m going to get you help. I’m a good guy. I have a pack—I mean, they let me in. You know I’m not a wolf…”

He texted Jameson.