Page 7 of Red Hood, Bad Wolf

Chapter 3

Dawn crept over thepack house as Rowan reviewed her notes, magic crackling at her fingertips as she traced the patterns of disappearances. Her power surged before Alder even reached the study door—the awareness growing stronger with each passing hour, making it impossible to ignore his presence. The woodsmoke-and-pine scent of him filled her senses, and her magic stirred in response, reaching for him even as she tried to maintain professional distance.

This wasn’t normal.

This wasn’t just a blast of insta-lust.

This could be something serious.

And if she was right and this attraction between them was something more, this was going to get messy.

"Ready?" He looked as exhausted as she felt, dark circles under those green eyes that seemed to see straight through her defenses. His power pressed against her shields, not threatening but aware, like a wolf scent-marking its territory.

"As I'll ever be." She gestured to her organized files, color-coded and annotated with magical markers only she could see. "I've prepared questions for—" She broke off as their fingers brushed reaching for the same paper. Energy crackled between them, and for a moment, she could have sworn she felt his heartbeat syncing with hers.

Their eyes met. She felt his hunger echo through her own body—a deep, primal need to claim and be claimed. Magic hummed, a symphony of fate and instinct demanding they acknowledge what they were to each other.

“Oh no,” she said.

“What?”

“You know, don’t you?”

Alder cleared his throat, but she felt his reluctance to step back. "We should... the pack's waiting."

"Right. Yes." Rowan straightened her red cloak, the enchanted fabric responding to her touch with a whisper of protective magic. "Professional."

His lips quirked, and through the bond came a flash of what he wanted to do to her professional facade. "Professional."

They interviewed pack members in the formal sitting room, maintaining a careful distance that did nothing to diminish their awareness of each other. Serenity, Alder's beta, went first. The she-wolf's eyes darted between them, nostrils flaring as she caught their mingled scents.

"The cave you found," Serenity said, tension evident in her rigid posture, "it's not marked on any pack maps. We had no idea it existed." Her gaze fixed on Rowan. "But you already think you know who's responsible, don't you? You Red Hoods always do."

"We follow evidence, not assumptions." Rowan kept her voice neutral. "Could someone have been using it without the pack's knowledge?"

"Impossible." Serenity's wolf eyes flashed gold. "We'd smell any intruder. Our borders are warded, our patrols constant." She leaned forward. "We protect our own."

"Unless," Alder said quietly, his pain lancing through Rowan's chest. She shouldn’t be able to feel his emotions like this. "It wasn't an intruder."

The tension crackled. Through their growing connection, Rowan felt the weight of leadership bearing down on him—the possibility that one of his people had betrayed him cut him deeper than any physical wound.

She shouldn’t be able to know that either.

They interviewed others throughout the morning: Danny, the young wolf who'd just transformed, still awkward in his new power; Marcus, the pack's elderly historian whose knowledge of territory boundaries went back generations; three rangers who patrolled the borders, their stories overlapping but with subtle inconsistencies that made Rowan's instincts prickle.

Each interview revealed the same tight-knit loyalty, the same resistance to the idea that evil could wear a familiar face. But underneath, Rowan sensed currents of fear. The pack knew something was wrong, even if they couldn't admit it.

Mid-morning, Mae appeared with tea and cookies, her silver hair perfectly arranged, her floral dress deceptively domestic. "You poor dears must be exhausted." She settled into an armchair, everything about her radiating grandmotherly concern. But something in her sharp eyes made Rowan's magic recoil. "Any progress?"

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