Page 130 of The Wolves of Forest Grove

It took a week to secure a new supplier for our meat.

We had some frozen in the deep freeze in the main cabin, thankfully, but even that had dwindled to almost nothing the past six days.

Seth was on his way to Portland to pick up our order from a butcher there and soon we’d have more meat than we knew what to do with.

Aside from some grouchy shifters forced to eat smaller portions though, things had been almost—dare I say it—back to normal. Camp had returned to the quiet bustle of tasks to complete and day to day life.

There had been no more visits from the mysterious Gregory. Nothing else burned to the ground. And Sam kept mostly to herself, preferring to stay in her shared cabin most of the day, only leaving for runs or to visit Clay at Grove’s End some afternoons.

She’d asked him to give her a task or some sort of assignment like the others, but as much as I tried, I still didn’t trust her enough for that.

Much like we decided it wasn’t safe to trust her with the secrets of our pack just yet either.

No one really spoke to her, so I doubted she’d find out unless we told her directly.

And she definitely wasn’t going to be on any of the patrols, but maybe there was something I could have her do around camp to keep her busy.

I’d even managed to finally finish the books I bought last week. They came in handy since my anxiety kept me from sleeping most nights since the visit from the witch and Sam’s arrival.

Having things back to some semblance of normalcy was great and all, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling eating at me that something was wrong. No matter how hard I tried.

“Allie Grace,” Grams said, lifting her gaze from the warm dirt at her knees. “Come to help?”

I smirked to myself but tied my hair in a loose bun and crouched down, gaze sweeping over the garden.

Hazel had started it when she joined the pack after I took over as alpha. A vegetable garden that she coaxed to life each spring and fed our ranks well into fall. It’d come in handy over the last week, and she was already replanting new seeds to make up for what was prematurely taken.

“Actually, I came to ask if you could use another hand to help in the garden. Sam’s been asking about having a job. Guess she’s tired of sitting around already.”

I took the trowel Hazel offered and copied her movements, digging up shallow trenches for her to drop two seeds in each before gently recovering them.

Peas, I thought. This early in the season there were only so many things that would grow and ripen quickly.

Most of the vegetables had barely just begun sprouting.

We had a store of potatoes and onions from last season in the cellar beneath the Moon Room though.

Between that, the early greens, and a couple trips to the supermarket, we’ve made due.

“Hmph,” Grams snorted, packing some dirt over a hole. “You could ask her, I suppose, but I doubt she’ll want to be spending her time with me.”

If she said something rude to Grams… My wolf growled within.

“Why? What do you mean?”

Grams sighed, dragging her long silvery hair away from her face with muddy fingers. “She’s been through something, that’s for sure. I think she’s afraid I’ll see the awful truth of whatever it is if she gets too close to me.”

“She’s afraid you’ll read her, you mean?”

Grams nodded. “That girl and I have never seen eye to eye really. I was here while she was away up north with her mother most of her life. We aren’t close like I am with Clay.

Maybe it’s that she’s embarrassed about it, or maybe it’s that she thinks it’s none of my business.

I sensed a bit of both from her that first day. ”

Well that was settled then. If Sam wanted a job, then she would be working with Grams in the garden. Grams clearly wanted to be closer with her granddaughter, and maybe sharing some of her pain would help Sam break out of the shell she’d been living in since she got here.

The pack was already whispering about her, but her shutting herself off to everyone wasn’t helping them find anything even remotely close to trust toward her. Especially not now that they all knew she once tried to off me.

“She probably just needs more time.”

“Time, I’ve got now, thanks to you.” Grams patted my hand in the dirt with a crooked grin, warming me.

Living without a pack for so long had aged her. She’d been at peace with her choice to live out the rest of her days as a lone wolf until the years caught up with her and death finally found her. But when I took over the Forest Grove pack, she’d asked to join.

“Speaking of time. About how long until you’ll give me grandbabies? This pack hasn’t seen young wolves in far too long, and I’m not getting any younger.”

A furious flush crawled up into my cheeks. She never missed an opportunity to remind me that she fully expected about a thousand grandkids, and I’d better get cooking them.

“Well, you’ve stopped aging now, so I suppose you can wait as long as it takes.”

So long as she remained in the pack, the natural pack magic would keep her at the ripe old age of...however old she was. I knew it was much older than she looked. In truth, she wasn’t Clay’s grandmother, but his great great grandmother. Pack magic had seen her through at least a century by now.

She grumbled something unintelligible to herself, and I leaned back on my elbow for a moment, basking in the warmth of the sun as it found its highest peak in the sky. I closed my eyes, inhaling the scents of the forest and damp earth soaking into the ass of my shorts.

My phone pinged in my pocket, ruining the peace of the moment. Should’ve left the damned thing inside.

A text from Seth flared to the screen, and I cut myself on the busted glass while opening it to read what it said. I really needed to get Charity to fix it for me, but as she was heading up the crew helping Sal clear out the wreckage of his shop, it’d have to wait.

“That my grandson? Tell him to bring me a bottle of that whiskey I like, would you?”

“No, it’s…”

I trailed off, reading the text and groaning.

Seth: The order’s not ready. Going to be another week. Their supplier had some kind of hold up. What should I do?

“Fuck.”

“Language.”

“Sorry, Grams. Looks like we’re going to need to raid your garden some more. The order’s been held up.”

Allie: Take whatever they have available in the storefront for now. I’ll head into town and raid the grocery again. That should be good for another week.

Seth: Yeah. Until the townies go hungry because all their meat’s been stolen by wolves.

I snorted.

Allie: Just hurry back. Seth: Will do.

“How long?” Hazel demanded. “I haven’t got much that’s ready. Some more lettuce and radishes. Potatoes from the cellar.”

“Then we’ll have salad and stew for dinner. Seth’s grabbing whatever the butcher has on hand, and I’ll go into town to pick up some things.”

“Send a hunting party out,” Grams all but ordered. “Hungry wolves are dangerous wolves.”

I knew she was right, but I’d hoped not to resort to that. The wildlife in our territory was already sparse, driven away from the scent of predators in their midst. I’d have to send them further afield to be able to find any game large enough to do more than feed a single shifter.

“I will.”

I rose, dusting off my hands on my jeans.

“Don’t forget my whiskey,” she reminded me just as I sensed Clay returning to camp from an early morning check on Grove’s End.

“I just brought you a bottle last week, Grams,” Clay chastised her. “Don’t tell me you’ve finished it already?”

“Would you deprive an old lady of her vices, grandson? Have I not earned the right to—?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Clay interrupted, giving his head a shake. “Fine, I’ll bring your whiskey. Stubborn old bat.”

“I don’t have to wonder where you get it from,” I joked, earning myself glares from the both of them.

That was my cue.

I tucked my cell into my pocket and jerked my head toward town. “I have to pick up some things. Our meat order’s been delayed. Need anything?”

His brows lowered. “Why’s it delayed?” I shrugged. “Not sure. Seth didn’t say.”

Clay licked his lips in a way that made something low in my belly tighten as he considered something.

He’d been either sleeping with me—on the nights Jared stayed at the quarry—or outside the cabin barely a stone’s throw from the window.

He’d even given up some of his night patrol shifts this week, further cementing my suspicion that all this time he’d been wary of Sam returning.

It was odd to see him up so early in the day when he usually slept well past noon. I wasn’t sure how much sleep he was actually getting at night though; his eyes had dark circles to rival my own.

“I’ll come with you,” he decided. “I’ve been meaning to check on the old cabin and my shop. We can make a pit stop on the way back. Maybe take the bikes for a rip if there’s time.”

I grinned at that. We hadn’t taken out the dirt bikes in a while. Not since last fall, actually. Though Clay regularly checked on things at the old cabin where I’d lived with him and Clay before shit hit the fan here— tuning up the bikes and making sure the pipes didn’t freeze in the winter.

Jared slept out there sometimes, still, needing the solitude every now and then.

It was where I lost my virginity after I’d finally had enough of their testosterone and forced them to rock paper scissors for it. Looking back now, it was ridiculous how we handled it, but we were just a bunch of horny teenagers, and I was tired of waiting.

Jared won, and Clay didn’t speak to either of us for weeks after. Until one very heated argument led to us tearing each other’s clothes off and…