Page 54 of Campfires & Canines
Slate appears, taking Cedar's spot beside me. "I'm so sorry, Hazel. Another pack knows you're here." He looks furious, but his voice is soft. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
Hazel
Heath stands in the center, his thumbs hooked in his pockets and his stance wide. He exudes confidence. Hawthorne and Elm stand on either side and others continue the formation. It must be the Thetas andZetas.
Clove takes Fisher's hand. Fern and Crickett assemble a line on either side of us. The energy is volatile and my heart speeds up.
Slate snakes his arm around my waist. The heat of him is grounding. He looks down at me for a moment. "Stay right with me. It's going to be fine."
"You're freaking me out," I whisper. "What's going on?"
He presses his lips together in a worried frown. "Those two wolves got away. They must have been from another pack. Now the other local packs are coming to investigate. But Heath will keep you safe."
He rubs his palm across my back and down my other arm.
"It's going to be okay," Marigold reassures.
"Doesn't sound like it," I hiss. Marigold eyes Slate and a small smile flickers across her face. "What?" I demand.
"He's getting his scent all over you," Marigold whispers.
Slate grips my waist and pulls my back into his front. His cheek rests against my hair for a second. I twist, frowning at him. He doesn't budge, touching as much of me as he can. I squirm. He's not subtle.
"So they know you are protected by him," Marigold explains, angling closer to my ear. My skin flushes.
Slate glares at Marigold. "They're not getting near her," he growls, and it vibrates through me. I can't help but shiver.
Clove glances over at us and tips her chin in approval. My friends cocoon around me, but their concern is so thick, I'm nauseous.
Heath opens his hands as if in an invitation. Three men step forward, their people behind them.
The center man is tall, with dark gray hair cut short. "Zephyr, Alpha of the Ironcrest Pack," Slate murmurs in my ear. "To the left in the leather jacket is Ferris. Alpha of the Granite Ridge Pack" I can't miss the disdain in his voice.
I narrow my eyes at Ferris. He looks like a biker with a short beard of blonde and silver, and angry brows drawn low over his pale blue eyes.
A thin woman with red lipstick stands at his shoulder. Her dark hair, sharp jaw, and full mouth look oddly familiar. Slate goes very still against me.
Marigold's lip curls in disgust. I glance between them.
My eyes go wide at a flash of platinum behind her. It's the boy from the coffee shop. Jasper stands among Ferris's cronies.
"What the hell." It escapes me.
Jasper stares ahead blankly. Does he know I'm the human they're here to deal with?
Marigold squeezes my hand. "That's Ferris's mate, Sienna, and their son, Jasper is the blonde one." I tear my eyes away and glance at Marigold. I can sense there is more she wants to share. She presses her lips together for a second. "That's Slate's sorry excuse for a mom."
My mouth drops open. Slate tightens his hold, his hands clenched. He's a statue. I reach up and gently touch his jaw, tracing my fingers down his neck.
"Hey, it's okay," I mutter. He breathes out, the spell broken.
"That's Cashel. Alpha of the Valley Pack west of us. They're friendly." He identifies the third group. Cashel has dark skin andhair. His irritated looks seem to be directed at Ferris or Zephyr, not Heath.
"When was the last time four packs met?" Heath sounds casual, but I know him well enough to hear the underlying threat. "I would have appreciated some notice. I am not prepared to host you properly."
Zephyr clears his throat. "Alpha Heath, good to see you. We won't be here long, but we were told you have an unclaimed human girl living with your pack."
Me, the human girl. I take a breath. I can't get enough air into my lungs. I'm grateful Slate is holding me upright.
