Page 33 of Untamed

"I'm taking her home, now. I need to get her settled, and then I'll call Lyri," I promise Ezra. I hang up without waiting to hear a response.

Shaking slightly, I wrap my arms around my mate to put both hands on the wheel. "That was our Luna's third mate, Ezra. Lyri, you'll like her," I promise her. "She... my birthpack is warring on us. And... the fucking IcePaw... my mother's pack."

My fingers are white on the steering wheel. I am the Alphason of the Adlartok . I saw the deaths of every strong male that night. There is no other male that could have claimed to be alpha. No female could claim to be the luna. My mother's pack was obliterated in the same territorial war that destroyed my own. Many, many wolves lost their homes in those few years.

"One day," I croak out, rage tightening my throat and making my tongue clumsy, "you will be a luna, my Bliss. My luna. I won't allow wolves to steal from this pack or murder our wolves. Our pack. I'll build them to be strong, stronger than even the Grims." I see that flash of too-shiny cerulean blue in my memory. Ma's pretty dress, torn and dirty. "I'll never let anyone hurt you."

It takes a moment for the odd sound to penetrate my fog of anger. A soft rumble, soothing and perfect. My Ma never sang lullabies to me, but I don't think it would have been this beautiful even if she had.

My mate's golden wolf is purring for me.

---

Alpha Jax

I've done bad things in my life. Made some piss-poor decisions, been blinded by my arrogance, ignored evil when it's been staring me in the face. I've seen shit that plays on the insides of my eyelids as my private showing of nightmares.

But there's something about this tiny bruise on the inside of Snow's wrist that makes my mind go haywire. Sitting next to her bedside on this damn uncomfortable stool, my knees bent up too high; I keep rubbing my thumb over the purplish-black mark marring Snow's pale skin.

In the pink light of dawn, Snow looks ethereal, but the soft light can't hide the injuries that tell her story.

It's not her only bruise. She has quite a few, and some of her fingers have been broken and not set properly. It makes my gut churn sickeningly to think of a male wolf doing this to a human female. How could she ever fight him back?

"Alpha Jax," Devel calls for me quietly from the doorway.

I nod to acknowledge him but don't take my eyes off Snow's peaceful face.

"One of your pack is approaching from the south. Old male, alone."

Frowning, I stand up and move away from Snow. Is it my Father? He sent Devel Grim’s team to us, so why would my Father be up here and alone? Mom and dad are still in the south to enjoy the sunshine, as far as I know.

I look over Snow quickly, reassuring myself that she's alright. As I step outside, I hear the sounds of plane engines flying overhead. They've been dumping fire suppressants on the forest for the last few hours. I haven't heard any word about whether or not it's had any effect.

I stare at the light brown wolf with the grey muzzle and feel startled. "Elias?" I ask in disbelief. Ezra's grandfather, a wily, unpredictable old coot, meets my gaze with a wicked twinkle in his gaze.

The shift back is painful. For Devel and I, at least. The creaking bones and grunts of pain remind us of our own mortality. The skinny, balding body with grey hairs sprouting from places that they shouldn't be, can't be hidden away, even by the wrinkles. Devel offers Elias a shirt, only to be waved off. Typical Elias, preferring to let it all hang loose. There is no thought about what it does to us to see his body in the nude.

The old male gives me a gummy smile. "Alpha Jax," he says hoarsely.

I swear under my breath. He looks like he's about to drop. "What's happening?" I demand to know.

"Young alphason has found his mate," Elias says in a hushed whisper of reverence. "She's a golden she-wolf, Alpha."

"When did he locate her?" I ask abruptly. Relief for Inuit fills me. He needs the stability of his mate.

"Day ago," he says. He shakes his head, excitement shining in his eyes. Rubbing knobbly hands together, he takes a step towards me, "a golden she-wolf, even her eyes," he says.

A golden... Many wolves claim that their brown fur is 'gold.' Usually, it's brown. Nice color, but not that unusual. Most RustClaw wolves are shades of brown, some grey thrown in here and there. Northern packs are more white and grey.

The only group of wolves that are a true golden color are Elias' extended family members. All descended from the same wolves who immigrated here a century ago. They claimed to be blood relations of some powerful European line, but that's not important. Elias broke away from his family, choosing to stay in RustClaw with his mate, but the others...

What matters is that it narrows down just who our golden pup may be related to… if she's really a gold.

"You think she's FeraxMaw?" I growl out lowly.

Elias shakes his head. "She's awild."

My body jerks in surprise. I meet Devel's look of contemplation. Could it be?

---