Page 1 of Kin of the Wolf (Magnetic Magic #3)

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The ivory case rested on a bed of fir and pine needles, glowing a soft silver under the moonlight trickling down through the evergreens. Carved into its lid, a wolf with its jaws parted, rows of fangs prominent, warned me not to get too close. But why did I want to get close?

As I slowly circled the case, damp needles poking at my paw pads, I tried to remember why this had been so important when I’d been in my human form. For some reason, I’d rested the magical artifact here and willed myself to remember to examine it once I became the wolf.

In this form, my senses were keen, and I could see the contours of the case perfectly while smelling the musty scent of its centuries-old ivory. More attuned to magic, I also felt the power radiating from the item. From it and, even more so, from whatever lay within it. An item even more magical and powerful than the case protecting it.

But no great answers came to me. I didn’t know what these items did or why they were important. More, I longed to hunt. In my lupine form, the moon called to me, willing me to leave this tiny woodland hemmed in by human dwellings and the noisy vehicle trail beyond the trees. I wanted to run until I reached the forested foothills and the mountains, where I might take down a deer or elk.

So great was the pull that I almost abandoned the case, but I remembered it had value to me in my other form, so I stayed. That didn’t keep irritation from ruffling my fur, and when a mouse skittered under the needles nearby, I pounced, snapping it up. Such unsatisfactory prey neither tasted good nor fulfilled my need to hunt. I gnashed on it more out of frustration than desire for the pathetic meal.

With its tail dangling from my jaws, I paused, sensing that I wasn’t alone. I turned, peering into the shadows between the trees, and gulped down the rest of the mouse so my fangs would be free if I needed to defend myself.

But this was not an enemy approaching.

A large salt-and-pepper wolf padded into view, heading toward me without fear or wariness. He emanated power, a far more feral and alive kind of power than that of the case, and the moonlight gleamed on his lush fur. I recognized him, a lone wolf who was not from my pack but who’d traveled from a far territory and had helped me on more than one occasion. More than once, we had almost mated.

Duncan was his name in human form, I recalled. And… Drakon. When he’d been called that, I couldn’t remember, but I knew it to be true.

When our eyes met, his jaws parted, tongue lolling out, and he bounded forward like a pup rather than a mature male. He lowered on his forelimbs in a playful bow of invitation.

Though we could not speak as humans did, I knew what he wanted. It was an invitation to hunt, to frolic, and to mate.

None of those things sounded unappealing. Again, I desired to abandon the silly human object on the ground .

Duncan pointed his snout toward the east, the unpopulated hunting lands, as if to lead me away, but then his head snapped about. He lifted it into the air, nostrils flaring. He’d caught the scent of something, something dangerous.

As he stood, hackles raised and tail stiff, I also detected it. Another wolf—no, several wolves—approached. I sensed their magical auras before I caught their scents. They were familiar but not friendly. Of the pack but not aligned. My cousins.

A dark-gray wolf, a light-gray wolf with a black-tipped tail, and a brown, gray, and white wolf padded side-by-side out of the woods. Their heads were up, their eyes aloof. They looked at Duncan, at me, and at the glowing case.

The eyes of the dark-gray wolf—Augustus—filled with avarice when they locked onto the artifact. He crouched, as if he meant to rush forward and snatch it out from under me.

I growled, prepared to defend it, even from my own pack. Especially from my own pack.

The light-gray wolf bumped a shoulder against Augustus and pointed his snout at Duncan.

Duncan was watching them as closely as I, and he loped over to stand beside me, facing my cousins. He also growled, his message clear. He would defend me.

The three wolves eyed us like they might have a powerful moose with deadly antlers. They were weighing the odds. Though they outnumbered us, we were stronger, and they knew it.

Again, Augustus’s brown eyes fastened on the box, and I knew what he was thinking. That he might send the other wolves to fight us while he sneaked in like a weasel and stole it. His allies might be maimed or even die to our fangs, but he would have his prize. Why he wanted the silly human thing, I had no idea, but he would not get the best of me.

Growling again, I placed my paw on the case and glared at him. Magical energy sizzled against my flesh, both warning and promise of untapped power, but I didn’t remove my paw.

Eyes slitted, Augustus looked from Duncan to me and back.

Duncan let his tongue loll out again, a sign of amusement and confidence. He knew we would win if they attacked.

Augustus growled, as much frustration as belligerence. His glare at me was one of loathing. We might be relatives, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to kill me. If Duncan had not been there, he would have attacked. I had no doubt.

Instead, Augustus sat back on his haunches and howled. Sending a message to someone? To more cousins? More allies?

I grimaced at the thought. As strong as Duncan and I were, we could only handle so many at once.

Ultimately, Augustus turned, the two other wolves following, and they loped out of the woods. I lowered my paw, relieved when the painful energy the case had spat at it stopped.

Duncan glanced at the artifact, but his gaze locked onto mine, and then he pointed his snout east again. My cousins were gone. Could we go hunt now?

I let out a lupine sigh of dissatisfaction, certain that I needed to stay and guard the case. I doubted my cousins had gone far. If we left, they would pounce on the prize.

Though it was difficult, since I hadn’t run through the wilds or known the pleasure of a hunt, I willed the wolf magic to leave my body, for the moon’s call to go unheeded tonight. Later, I promised myself as the change came over me, I would go hunt.

Soon, I knelt on hands and knees in the needles, my flesh naked and furless, and the nippy early-December air made me shiver. My human knowledge and memories returned to me as I rose, and I remembered the importance of the case, that a vision had told me it could help my pack—maybe even werewolves everywhere—if I could figure out its secrets. I also remembered that my clothes dangled from a nearby branch .

Still in his wolf form, Duncan sat on his haunches, watching me with a cocked head. No doubt, he wanted to know why we hadn’t gone off to hunt.

“You can go,” I told him as I dressed and put on an oven mitt from my kitchen. With my hand somewhat insulated, I plucked up the case. I could still feel the sizzle of magic, but it was duller through the padding. “Go off and have a good hunt. And thanks for coming out to check on me.”

I looked from Duncan to the trees, able to see in the distance the sprawling apartment complex where I lived and was the property manager. Since surviving our confrontation with the last people who’d tried to steal the case, Duncan had been staying in his van in the parking lot. Tonight, his nearness had been a good thing.

“I need to put this someplace safe,” I added, holding up the case.

Despite being in wolf form, Duncan probably understood me, but he didn’t head off to hunt. When I walked toward my apartment, he padded along at my side.

“You’re a good…” I groped for the right word. We hadn’t had sex and weren’t mates, and he’d originally been an enemy, working for my ex-husband to steal the very case I held. I didn’t consider him that anymore, but what was he to me? A friend? An ally? A future mate? “Wolf,” I finished when he looked curiously at me.

Duncan brushed against my side, and I rested a hand on his furred back. It was late enough that none of the tenants were walking their dogs on the grounds, and the lights in most windows were out. I didn’t worry too much about being spotted, but I did keep to the trails at the back of the property, avoiding the well-lit areas and the open lawn. I didn’t need anyone linking me to the wolves who’d attacked and killed intruders on the property a couple of weeks earlier. If my employers found out that I was a werewolf, whether I’d been a staunch defender of the complex or not, I would be out of a job. After more than twenty years here, I didn’t know what else I would do if they fired me.

Duncan padded along at my side as we approached my apartment. His earlier playfulness had faded, and he looked back into the woods before gazing solemnly at me.

“You think I’m in trouble, don’t you?”

He would have gone off to hunt if he hadn’t.

His gaze remained solemn.

Yes.