Leilyn found it hard to believe that two hours before she’d been so fraught with tension Miss Olive had needed to pick her up off the floor. Mostly because at the moment she was laughing so hard, tears streaked down her cheeks.
Across the table, Byron had laughed so hard at his own joke he’d fallen out of his chair. One large foot on the table, the rest of him sprawled across Olive’s smooth-cut floor, he showed no signs of letting up.
Olive herself couldn’t cover her own smile, even as she attempted a disparaging scolding of the young man. “Byron. That was terribly inappropriate.”
“Why?” Byron hiked himself onto his elbows, even though he didn’t remove his foot from the table. His laughter still shook his shoulders, although he tried to contain it. “She don’t seem to mind, she’s laughing.”
Leilyn wiped the tears from her cheeks and shook her head. “I’ve heard worse, believe it or not. It’s difficult to shock me.” To be honest, she was just glad to feel at ease, however brief it might be. When Dell and his father had left, she’d been wound tighter than a drum.
Byron showed up shortly after, she suspected he was sent to keep watch over her. While she had no idea what she was being accused of, the accusation had been clear in her last encounter with Jasper. Her stomach still twisted in knots at the memory.
“Get your foot off my table, boy.” Olive slapped Byron’s foot off the table and stepped over him. “I won’t have you acting the animal in my house.”
“Yes ma’am.” Bryon hopped to his feet and nodded to the older woman. He winked at Leilyn. “Don’t ever dare to cross Miss Olive. She’ll tan both your hides and wear you as a fur stole.”
Leilyn sucked her lips between her teeth to try to keep the laughter at bay, but an undignified snort slipped out.
Olive clucked her disapproval, but only shook her head. She disappeared outside, where Leilyn could see her approaching the line of frozen clothes with her basket.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Leilyn smiled. When he sat across from her again, she again had the odd sensation of familiarity, a bond of sorts. Byron was comfortable, almost like family.
While he carried a sense of power about him, he seemed more prone to a Beta role than an Alpha. Although, she imagined he would be a perfectly capable Alpha should the need arise.
Unlike Jasper and Dell, there wasn’t an all-consuming power about him. An all-consuming power that was buzzing in the nape of her neck. One of the men was returning, getting closer by the second. While they’d never left her consciousness, when he started to move closer, every inch of her became aware of it. Leilyn’s stomach did a flip and her fingers twitched before she could stop them.
Byron’s brow quirked up under his curly mop of hair. “He’s at least thirty miles out, you sense that?”
“Well, you do.” Leilyn didn’t know what made her so defensive.
“I’m slated to be his Beta when he takes over the pack. We are close as brothers, closer. As his Beta, I have to know where he is at all times.” He hooked his arm over the back of the chair. “Most of the pack only knows they are out there, it isn’t until they’re within five miles, or specifically targeted that they sense them.”
Leilyn tried to not furrow her brows, but it was unavoidable. None of this made sense. Never had she been so affected by another pack member, even her own Alpha. “I don’t understand. I never knew where my uncle was until he was really close unless I was in wolf form.”
For a moment Byron appeared uncomfortable, and he shook his head. “Doesn’t seem right. Even Olive senses them, and she’s human. Then again, our pack is…”
Leilyn frowned. “Untainted?”
“No. That’s not what I was saying.” Bryon scrambled to correct himself.
Leilyn wasn’t sure it would matter. The closer the Alpha came, the more tense she felt. She shook her head. “It’s all right. Really. If you knew why I left—you probably aren’t too far off.”
“Sorry. We’ve seen the side effects of refusing to mix with humans.” Byron’s cheeks darkened and he slipped his fingers through his hair. “It’s risky either way.”
“I know.” She chewed on her lip as she thought of her own pack. Sickness and disease were rampant among them. Every generation had been getting either weaker, or more feral in their change.
“How close is he now?”
She knew it was a test, but whether by his urging, or her own instinct, she was compelled to answer. “Five miles. He’s moving fast. In Were form?”
“Impressive for non-pack, unless you were his mate.”
Leilyn laughed to cover the sudden leap of her stomach into her throat. “What?”
“I haven’t met my mate yet. I’ve heard the draw and instincts are just as strong in humans as it is in Were’s. At least that’s what Olive says. She always knew where her mate was.”
“Olive was mate to a Were?” Leilyn peeked out the window at the woman with children rallying around her, interrupting her attempts to take the clothes from the line.
“Never had any kids, not for lack of trying. Her mate died in the attack of sixty-three. Ripped to shreds by the feral bastards that tried to take us kids.”
Sixty-three. Same year her parents died in the war. Leilyn frowned and focused on her hands.
“I lost my Ma that day, too. So did Dell. They both went down fighting. My pa survived. Fought hard as any Were in the battle.”
“I lost my parents too. In the war. I don’t even remember them. My uncle, he wouldn’t tell me anything about them.” She twirled her mug on the table. “I imagine sometimes I remember them, what they look like. I’m sure it’s just fantasy.”
A low growl at the door pulled their attention away from the serious discussion. A huge gray wolf with a white face and black paws stood in the doorway. The legs of a deer lay on the floor beside him, their meat for supper she imagined.
The growing tension in her body ratcheted into nervous energy as she recognized, without a doubt, this was Dell and not his father. Her hands trembled as an unfamiliar sensation took over when he growled again, a purely possessive sound.
The change initiated before she could stop it, and she stumbled from the chair to hit the floor. She heard Byron whoop, and an exclamation from Olive before everything went dim around her, the change taking over.
No change was quick for any Werewolf, each would take anywhere from three to ten minutes. Leilyn had been blessed with a shorter transition time, and so it was only three minutes later when her senses returned to her, in canine form.
She opened her eyes to find Dell’s wolf hovering over her, the scent of his fresh kill still lingering on his fur.
Byron’s words lingered in her mind, unless you were his mate.
She knew Dell hadn’t compelled her to shift, no one had intentionally. This was instinct, no pressure.
Dell nudged his nose against hers, and she responded with a lick to his muzzle.
He pressed his forehead to hers. Can you hear me?
She yelped in shock and scrambled away against the wall. What was that?
He dropped to his haunches and stared her down.
A shudder shook her out to her fur. What was that?
You are pack. Our pack.
No.
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