Page 8 of Bullied Pregnant Mate (Silver Meadows Wolves #7)

Hours after our cozy shopping trip, I’m halfway up the mountain with frozen paws, cold wind in my eyes, and ice on my fur.

Fuck this! Is this what patrol is? No wonder I never wanted to do it.

As I slowly make my way up another steep slope, I think wistfully of my bright, warm dining room and the sunken den with its massive fireplace. I realize for the first time in my life that I don’t actually love snow-capped mountains.

Well, I love looking at them. I just don’t love climbing them.

I put more power into my back legs, leaping through deep drifts of heavy snow. I’m exhausted already, all my muscles aching and my throat burning from panting in the cold air.

Again, my mind slips back to the comfort of the house. I made a huge fire in the den for Alisa before I went on patrol and left a huge basket of wood so she could keep it burning. My last image of her is seeing her curled up on the couch with a book and a blanket.

I’d give anything to be back there right now.

I can’t get the image out of my mind, even though I know it’s distracting me from my work. Focusing on the freezing wind and belly-deep snow is just too depressing, though.

I’ve never been the physical type. I don’t even cut my own damn firewood. I buy it.

Finally, I make it to the top of the rise. The snow is a bit thinner here, so I don’t sink into it as I trot across the peak and put my nose to the wind.

Nothing but ice and pine. Even if something was out here, how in the hell am I supposed to pick it up?

The wind swirls around me in little eddies, cutting at my ears and nose. I shake my head and blink, trying to get snowflakes out of my eyes. When the weather rolled in, I assumed patrol would be off, but Bae looked at me like I’d suddenly grown a second head. I hear his words echo through my mind.

Even if it was a full-on blizzard, we’d still patrol. You need to be conditioned to this, Jenks.

I try again to catch a scent on the wind, but I end up inhaling a leaf and have to snort heavily to get it out of my nose.

I’ve barely spent time in my wolf shape at all. This is just torture.

My need for warmth and shelter is overwhelming. I’ve never had to deny myself before, or put myself through anything truly challenging.

Maybe it’s because I use luxury and parties to distract myself from far more painful memories.

I groan, but it comes out as a thin whine. I like the plaintive sound a lot less than the mission at hand, so I turn back to the mountain and tackle the next slope determinedly.

When my thoughts inevitably slip back to Alisa, I let the images give me strength. Instead of outright wishing I was there and hating every second that keeps me from her, I look forward to the moment I can turn toward home and be with her again.

The change of perspective helps me apply myself to the climb, and I cover ground much more quickly. As I put effort into the exercise, my body warms up a little and the cold stops bothering me so much.

Well, that’s a start.

The longing in my heart gets stronger as I head up the mountain and Alisa fills my thoughts. I’m not just missing the luxury and comfort of my home. I’m missing her, and it’s a unique experience for me.

I didn’t think getting to know another person could be so intriguing.

When I look at her now, I can’t believe I bullied her the way I did. She seems fragile and innocent, not cold and distant like I always thought she was. Since I’ve had a chance to spend time with her, I can see my teasing came from my own sense of inadequacy, not from anything she did.

I was always deflecting. Since I was a kid, I knew the only way to survive being laughed at was to make myself the joke. But it was even more effective when I turned the wrath of the crowd against someone else.

She was such a good scapegoat, too. There were very few people in school who genuinely liked her, and she didn’t team up with the other witches until later. After that, people still teased her, but she had a community around her so it was difficult to single her out. Then the witches all disappeared so suddenly, and no one really thought about them at all.

Maybe if I had just dealt with my shit in the beginning, none of this would have happened.

Briefly, my thoughts turn to my mother, and I slam my mind shut like a steel trap.

Not ready to think about that yet. My journey of self-discovery doesn’t have to be that thorough. At least not right now.

As I hit the next tree line, my thoughts drift back to Alisa. I’m learning so many small things about her—the way she curls her hair behind her ear, bites her lip when she’s thinking, and tilts her head back when she laughs.

Yeah… I’m a goner. She’s enchanted me for sure. I want to know more, so much more. I can’t wait to learn every single little thing about her.

Suddenly, a new scent drifts into my nose. I’ve been immersed in the tang of pine against crisp ice for so long, the warm, dense smell hits me like a blow. Instantly, my whole body is on alert, and my hackles rise.

Is this it? Is it an Ancient One?

Even though I’ve never been on patrol or done any tracking, I feel like this scent isn’t strong enough to be one of the big, primeval wolves. Bae suggested their scent was different than an ordinary wolf’s, which I assume to mean blood, dirt, and bone layered over the usual wolf smell.

I raise my nose. The scent isn’t difficult to track. I push ahead to the next rise, where the tree line is thick as the ridge moves into the greater forest.

Is there something there?

It’s difficult to see through the swirling snow, but I’m pretty sure I’m being watched. The other wolf stays in the shadows while he checks me out. I don’t immediately recognize him, which is bad.

I should alert the others. Even if it’s a false alarm, better safe than sorry, especially with the way things are right now.

Even though my muscles tense up and my body trembles with the need to attack, I don’t move, and I don’t howl to the rest of the pack. While I’m watching, the other wolf blinks and moves through the trees, deliberately letting me see him and the iridescent, glowing sheen of his blue eyes.

I definitely don’t know this wolf.

So why is the scent familiar?

I can’t deny it—something about this scent is known to me. I don’t understand how this is possible, but I’m reluctant to call the others here, just in case.

Just in case what? What the fuck are you going to do, ask him out for a drink?

I don’t get a chance to do anything because the other wolf suddenly turns and bounds away into the forest. I’m not sure what the rules are for patrol—if I’m supposed to chase him down or return for backup. I know I could howl and bring the nearest patrol here, but that could also alert enemies to our location and movements.

That’s my excuse, and I’m sticking to it.

I turn and bound down the mountain, covering ground a lot quicker than I did on the way up. Soon, I see the lights of my house, and I jog into my yard and up onto the deck. I give myself a good shake to get the snow off before I go inside and grab my heavy robe from a hook by the back door.

My phone is sitting on the kitchen counter where I left it. I stare at it for a few seconds, wondering if I should call Bae.

But what did I even see? What would I tell him? Nothing happened; we didn’t fight. For all I know, he wasn’t even on our territory.

From what I’ve heard of the conflict so far, if this was a bad guy, he would have attacked me. There’s also the strange, familiar scent to consider. Maybe the wolf was one of ours, and he was just too far away for me to recognize.

I’ll just leave it for now. Plenty of time to think about it later.

I wrap my robe tightly around myself, going straight to the den so I can warm up. I’m eager to see Alisa, but when I get there, the couch is empty. Her book and blanket are still there, the book set face-down with the pages open. The woolen throw is rumpled as if she got up in a hurry.

Don’t panic.

I stand by the fire for a moment, warming my hands. Even listening as carefully as I can, I can’t hear her moving around anywhere in the house.

She wasn’t in the kitchen. Where else would she go?

I decide to check the whole house, jogging up to the east wing first. As I check each room, my anxiety rises. I can’t stop thinking about the strange wolf.

He better not have anything to do with this!

After checking the entirety of the east wing, I run full speed back to the middle of the house. As I go through the kitchen, I keep my nose high, looking for any trace of blood.

I’ve just proven my wolf senses aren’t great, so I’m not sure how much good this will do me.

Still not hearing or smelling anything, I go down the hall into the west wing. Her room would be the obvious answer, and when I knock on the door, I pray to hear her inside. When there is no answer, I push the door open slowly, hoping to find her curled up in bed. Seeing the room completely empty adds to my anxiety.

Where the hell is she?

It’s okay, stay calm. It can’t be that bad.

I decide to take a warm shower and get properly dressed before I go out to look for her or alert the others. I still feel jittery and unsettled, but it’s good to have a plan.

Instead of going to my room and private bathroom, I head for the main one. I’m thinking so hard about my next steps searching for Alisa that I just throw the door open.

A blast of steamy, rose-scented air hits me right in the face, and I freeze as I watch Alisa getting out of the shower. She’s right between opening the door and grabbing a towel. She freezes in place, her eyes locking on to mine.

I can’t stop staring. Her pale skin is glowing a warm pink from the water, and her silvery hair is hanging over her shoulders and around her face like twisted lines of golden rope. My eyes slip away from hers to watch crystal drops of water slide down her breasts and belly.

The moment stretches on, and I feel like I have to move or say something—anything—to break the tension.

I can’t. My tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, and I have a raging fucking hard-on! If I try to move or speak, I’ll have a goddamn seizure.

Suddenly, Alisa’s hand flashes out and grabs a towel from the nearby rack. The shower door swings shut behind her, and she swiftly wraps the big, fluffy towel around her. Her movement snaps me out of my trance, and by the time she turns to look at me, I’m already backing away.

“Sorry,” I mutter, almost stumbling over my own feet. “I should’ve… I mean, I didn’t—”

Oh, fuck.

I grab the doorknob and yank it towards me, slamming the bathroom door shut. Then I run to my room, wondering how in hell I’m going to make this up to her.