Page 9 of A Wolf’s Wound

Ryder

The vet clinic opens at nine, and I’m there five minutes before with a bouquet of colorful tulips in my hand. Right on cue, Hannah crosses the street. Her white vet coat flaps in the breeze, and a strand of her hair unfurls from her neat braid and curls near her cheek.

My fingers itch to tuck it behind her ear, but I manage to stop myself. Barely. “Good morning.”

Hannah rolls her eyes, but she can’t quite hide her smile. “The flower shops must be happy with you.”

“Mrs. Thorne gave me a punch card,” I joke. “The tenth bouquet is free.”

I didn’t get any punch card, but I did get Mrs. Thorne smiling happily to herself as she carefully bundled up the flowers.

A busybody at heart, she seems to be thrilled that someone’s caught my attention, and I suppose the extra income doesn’t hurt.

Flowers, chocolates, sets of toys for Shadow—I recognize the need to win them both over—every day, I’ve been dropping off small gifts. And every day, she says—

“No,” Hannah tells me firmly.

But she’s still half-smiling. And she lingers in the doorway, one hand twirling the edge of her hair and the other reaching for the flowers.

“I didn’t ask anything.” I hand her the flowers. Our fingers brush, and she doesn’t pull her hand away. For the most fascinating half-second of my life, she lets her thumb trail against mine before she shakes herself and turns around.

“I’m not changing my mind.”

She stomps away toward the office. I know she hasn’t thrown any of the gifts away or regifted them—my mom Lori told me she’s been taking them home. I leave a small bouquet for Mom, too, as well as a small box of chocolates. It pays to have a spy on the inside who’s rooting for me.

The week passes with daily stops, except for Wednesday, when Gavin catches me early in the morning. I don’t have a chance to visit, but Mom calls to tell me that Hannah seemed a little down the entire day, which makes me grin like a fool all night.

This isn’t like me at all. Normally, when a girl isn’t interested, I wish her the best and move on.

But Hannah is… different, for some reason.

And I know I’m not the only one feeling like this.

Maybe she can’t feel our connection as viscerally as I can, but I know she’s feeling something.

There’s a private curve in her plush lips whenever she sees me, and I can feel her heart rate pick up whenever we stare a bit too long at one another.

I don’t blame her for not wanting to date me after I dated her friend. In fact, I appreciate the loyalty, but I’m sure April isn’t going to be too torn up about it. It’s not like she was having an amazing time with me, anyway.

On Thursday, I’m honestly too busy to make it into the vet’s office until noon. Gavin has several coming-of-age ceremonies to plan, and he sends me all over town to meet with vendors. Thankfully one of them is Mrs. Thorne, so I pick up a bouquet of white daisies on the way.

When I arrive with the daisies, I see that Hannah’s been busy too. Mom looks like she’s been thrown into a blender, with her glasses askew and hair coming undone from her typically neat bun.

The waiting area is standing room only—dozens of clients with their injured dogs, cats, and… Yeah, there’s that parrot. I make sure to keep my hands out of biting distance, although one man isn’t quite as lucky. The parrot nips at his ear, and he shouts.

“We can reschedule Paco for tomorrow, Mrs. Benson.” Hannah’s voice, cool and competent, carries through the crowd. “We’ve got a bit of a situation today. I’m sorry.”

It’s a testament to the steel in Hannah’s voice that Mrs. Benson, a hellhound if I’ve ever met one, only sniffs in disdain before she turns on her heel and storms out the door with her murder-bird.

I catch Hannah’s eyes for only a moment. She doesn’t look much better than Mom. Her white vet coat is stained with blood, and she’s cradling an injured Pomeranian in her arms as she races to the back.

“What’s going on today?” Mom asks. It takes me a minute to realize she’s asking me . “All of these pets have been attacked!”

Attacked?

Quickly I scan the occupants of the vet clinic. I know all of them since the majority are members of the Stonehaven pack. More alarmingly, I know they all live near each other, close to the forest on the west side of town.

I drop the flowers off on Mom’s desk—she’s abandoned it to attend to a cat’s wounds—and answer my buzzing phone.

“What the fuck is going on in the forest?” Gavin demands. He’s never been one for casual greetings or small talk. “There’s been a rash of animal attacks overnight.”

“Yeah, I just got to the vet clinic.” I hold the door open for a distraught woman carrying a yelping Chihuahua.

“That’s why I called you,” he says, the fucking smartass. “I heard you basically live there now.”

“Ha. Were there any new shifters last night?” None of the experienced shifters in our pack would attack house pets, but new shifters might. “Maybe some kids shifting without their mentors?”

It happens, but not often. And somehow, I don’t think this many pets is the work of a couple of kids.

“Not that anyone’s admitting to,” Gavin says, “but the local news is starting to pick things up. They’re talking about a mountain lion in the area, and I need to do everything I can to keep them stuck on that line of inquiry.

You mind checking things out for me? I’m up to my neck in shit over here. ”

“On it.”

I don’t need much urging to go to the woods on any given day, anyway.

The west side of town isn’t far, but I take my car.

If teenagers are shifting without supervision, we’ll need to shut that shit down fast. The last thing we need is a bunch of kids blowing our cover because someone’s favorite poodle gets eaten by a wolf.

I park alongside the curb and hop over the small wooden fence of the nature preserve.

Tall oak trees block out most of the bright sun, leaving the forest about ten degrees cooler.

It’s the perfect place to shift—permits for camping are run through our pack and routinely denied for non-shifters.

Leo, our camp ranger, is diligent about patrolling the area.

If he’s not here, he’s with my brother, likely placating the local news. And if Leo didn’t sense anything amiss, what the fuck could it be?

Hell, maybe it is a mountain lion. A surge of adrenaline spikes through my blood, and my fangs drop just a bit. That would be one hell of a hunt.

I take a deep breath—nothing.

At least not yet. The attacks happened near the neighborhood, so I have to be close. I walk deeper into the woods, and that’s when it hits me like a rock to the face.

Blood .

Instinct has my mouth open, my heart thudding. My wolf is prepared for a hunt. I don’t smell any wolves. I smell human.

Just past the clearing, I see it. There’s so much blood that the ground is still damp with it. And all around the pool of blood are dead, half-eaten animals. Whatever was here was indiscriminate—squirrels, rabbits, dogs, even a rat. And I don’t see any mountain lion tracks.

Something was here.

Something starving.

And I have a feeling it’s still hungry .