one I want you to send me after.”
Cal shook his head. Like he always did. “You know it can’t be done. Nevan rarely enters the mortal realm, and it would be too dangerous for you to go after him on his home territory. Otherworld is not the place for humans.”
“I’d risk it if it meant I could take that bastard out.” Nate hated the tremor in his hands as he pressed his fingertips against his temple. “When I remember what he did to me. Having him inside my head...”
“Let it go, Nate.” Cal’s voice was gentle.
Nate leaned back on his pillows, breathing deep as he tilted his head to look at the ceiling. Let it go? Only a man who had never lived with the nightmare Nate had endured could utter those words. Six years ago, Nate had been attacked by a feral werewolf. Having survived, Nate had become a rogue werewolf himself, subject to the same bloodlust each time the moon was full. Even worse, his mind had been controlled by a powerful, manipulative werewolf called Nevan. This werewolf, one whom Nate had never met, had used an evil form of telepathy to try and force him to kill Stella.
Nate had a feeling he might be the only person who had lived through the horror of becoming a werewolf and coming through the other side as a human once more. That remarkable feat was due to the ingenuity of Cal and Stella. When Nate had attempted to kill Stella, Cal had stabbed him through the heart with a silver dagger, killing the werewolf within him. Stella, who was the greatest necromancer the world had ever known—so great that she was known throughout Otherworld as the “necromancer star”—had used her incredible powers to bring him back to life. Nate had survived the experience. He was intact, but not unscathed.
Cal regarded him steadily. “Although I’ve never questioned your commitment, I worry about what this does to you.”
“It screws with my head, but I can’t stop.” Nate gave a shaky laugh. “And I don’t see a queue of people lining up to take my place. So, worrying or not, I guess I’m the only werewolf hunter you have.”
Cal nodded. “I know this is no consolation, but Nevan has his own set of problems right now. As well as struggling to maintain control after a bloody fight to take over as leader, his youngest daughter has gone missing.”
“My heart bleeds for him.” Nate managed a sarcastic snarl that was a little too wolfish for his own liking. “Just so we’re clear...if the opportunity ever presents itself, I will do whatever it takes to make that bastard pay for what he did to me. With or without your approval.”
* * *
The party was in full swing when they arrived. Held in a vast, ranch-style house deep in the heart of a Vermont forest, it was unlike any other Violet had ever attended. The dress code was casual; there were no formal introductions, and, since dinner seemed to consist of helping yourself to raw steak and beer, there wasn’t a seating plan. The mortal realm was finally beginning to live up to its fairy-tale reputation.
Violet was conscious of the number of glances, both surreptitious and open, being cast her way as, with a proprietorial hand on the small of her back, Roko steered her out toward the backyard.
“Do these people know who I am?”
He shook his head. “No way. I haven’t told anyone. Only Teo. One word in the wrong ear and your father’s mongrels would find us and rip me apart.”
“Then why are so many of them staring at me?”
Roko flashed his grin at her. He hadn’t used it much since their arrival in the mortal realm, and somehow it had lost a lot of its impact. “Because you’re gorgeous.”
Teo, who’d overheard the remark, tilted his drink in her direction in an appreciative salute. Pack dynamics seemed to be off-kilter here in the mortal realm. In Otherworld, Teo would not have dared to cast a look in the direction of the daughter of the great Wolf Leader. Here it seemed to be okay to throw her a glance that blatantly told her he was picturing her human without any clothes...and her wolf self baring her belly in preparation for submission.
So far, the mortal realm had not lived up to Violet’s expectations. From the moment they entered it, they had been in hiding. Her father controlled all werewolves, not just those in Otherworld. Nevan’s word was absolute. From the minute they crossed the border from Otherworld, the search had been on. Violet was hunted, and Roko was a marked man. One or two narrow escapes had been enough to turn the swaggering, would-be alpha into a frightened, petulant cub.
Sunlight had become a distant memory. Hiding away indoors, staying cooped up inside for days on end, running scared: all of those things were alien to Violet’s natural instincts. And the food? Don’t get me started on the food. Prepackaged, tasteless and limited. It wasn’t even fit for dogs. How mortals survived on this crap, she would never know. She needed to get out, to run, to hunt, to sink her teeth into her own kill. A kill that was still warm...
The backyard was predictably more crowded than the house. Like Violet, most wolves would rather be outdoors than inside. She tilted back her head, drinking in the velvety night sky and sniffing appreciatively at the loam and pine scent of the forest.
There was nothing she’d have liked more than to slip out of her clothes and let her wolf self run free through the trees. There was just one problem. She cast a sidelong glance in Roko’s direction. She didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. Violet almost laughed out loud. She didn’t want to give him any ideas. Coming to the mortal realm in his company had been about the worst move she’d ever made. She wasn’t going to compound it by letting him think she was ready to mate with him. She knew Roko was waiting for a signal from her. A signal that was never going to come.
Violet found herself in a new situation. Strong-willed, headstrong and determined, for the first time in her life, she didn’t know what to do. Slink back to Otherworld with her tail between her legs, face her father’s wrath and the subsequent humiliation? Or remain here in the mortal realm with a man who wanted more than she was prepared to give? So far, there was no sign of the support he’d promised for the refugees, and she needed to get back to the Wolf Nation and back to her role in helping them. It was a dilemma, and she found herself paying more attention to her thoughts than to her fellow partygoers. The only thing she knew for sure was that she was never going back to her role as the oppressed daughter of the Wolf Leader. She wanted to do something with her life. What that something might be, she had no idea. All she knew for sure was that it would involve helping the oppressed werewolves under her father’s control...which meant she would be pitting her will against his.
After a few beers, Roko seemed to relax and was soon the center of a group of young males. Violet got the impression he was inviting their admiration because of her, in a look-what-I’ve-got way. It annoyed her, because it provided more evidence of her foolishness in being here with him. She drifted away from him slightly, following her instincts and allowing the woods and the night to call to her.
The moon was full, adding to her restlessness, and she walked deeper into the trees, leaving the sounds of revelry behind. She breathed deep, inhaling the darkness. Her inner wolf leaped at the scents and sounds around her. Damp earth, crackling leaves underfoot, scurrying creatures. Night sounds. A glance over her shoulder showed her the lights of the house, barely visible now through the dense tree trunks.
Why not?
What possible harm could there be? Violet’s wolf self nudged insistently at her human. Make it fast. No one will ever know.
Slipping off her sneakers, she tugged her sweater over her head. Jeans and underwear followed. The cool breeze felt wonderful on her naked
