Page 1 of Rituals & Runes

CHAPTER1

“Damn it!” I slammed my fist into the window and sank my head against my bloodied hand. This couldn’t be happening. Just couldn’t be happening.

Anguish ripped through me. Shattered glass crunched under my boots on the sidewalk outside the laundromat where I’d ended up tonight.

I raised my arms toward the sky and roared, “Fuck it all.”

Our pack doctor had informed me that my youngest brother had died. And the doctor didn’t need to comment on the second situation for me to know how bad things had gotten.

It had been wrong for me to leave tonight. Wrong for me to take off while my pack suffered.

Going on a drive was the worst idea but the moaning of the sick, the groans of my dying pack had gotten to me. Like a drill to my head, tearing me apart from the inside. I couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t take their cries of pain and the stench of death.

Another pack had cursed mine with a slow, painful disease that would kill every last one of us.

How could I have known my brother would die tonight? I couldn’t have known yet the guilt shredded me apart. It killed me I hadn’t been at his side when he needed me most.

Shuffling feet and the whir of a washing machine pulled me from my thoughts. And something else, something more powerful drew me away from the darkness that shrouded my mind.

A soft, floral scent wafted through the broken window bringing warmth to my chest and hardening me inside my jeans. My wolf perked up and sniffed the air. At first, layers of detergent and fabric softener had covered up her scent making me miss something important.

I yanked open the glass door and paused on the threshold. Her scent slammed into me in full force. Heat flushed my body and I couldn’t help but drink in the sight of every line of her face, breasts, narrow waist, and the slope of her curves. So innocent, so pure, and seemingly untouched.

That intoxicating scent came from her.

A lithe woman stood frozen, wide-eyed, and staring at me from behind a pair of glasses. My wolf scratched at me, trying to get to her. Dressed in a form-fitting sweat suit displaying her petite, graceful curves, with a messy bun piled on her head, she had her eyes locked on me.

But something about her wasn’t right.

She was short and tiny for a wolf shifter. I sniffed the air to detect another scent layered between the others.

One that had my entire body priming for her. The beginnings of her heat which would soon turn her into a writhing, aroused mess filled my senses. I took the scent of her need, her potent pheromones, into my lungs. I was becoming hard as steel, and an all-consuming need for her had my mind spinning with fantasies.

An undeniable pull drew me to her, to her oval face that I wanted to cup so I could ravage her soft, pink mouth with a kiss. I needed to tear off her clothes, caress and kiss her until she came over and over, her perfect mouth screaming my name over and over.

I shouldn’t approach her. I needed to go home, needed to stay far away from her. Because I figured out the reason for her glasses.

My upper lip curled and I let loose a low growl. The woman stood firm, fists on her hips, and narrowing her eyes in my direction. Despite her tiny size, she hadn’t moved an inch.

She had to be half-human. Pureblood wolf shifters didn’t mix with humans. Period. Inferior to us, except for necessary transactions, we avoided them like the disease that had killed my pack.

My wolf paced, urging me forward. I shouldn’t go. Apart from her half-human status, I had come near Firebrand Pack territory, the only nearby wolves. The ones that had cursed us.

She had to be my enemy.

I motioned to close the door, to walk away. I couldn’t afford to get involved in a mess, yet my wolf rebelled, again growling and scratching at me.

“You’re like a Wolfling,” meaning an endearing term for a wolf runt. My voice came out more gravelly than I expected.

She cocked her head at me. Her gaze dipped to my bleeding hand but I’d forgotten all about the burning cuts. “Excuse me? Can I help you?”

I’d only stopped in this town with two stop lights for gas, meaning to turn around. When the doctor called me, I’d taken a walk down this short strip of stores.

Only to find this.

Every fiber of my being was captivated by her, and a stark, eerie howl tore from my wolf.

My heart stuttered at the implications.

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