Wolf Roulette (Werewolf Dens #3) - Kelly St. Clare

1

Nose to the ground, we loped through the forest. Fallen tree trunks, tangled vines, and sudden drops made up the rugged south side of Deception Valley.

More to consider.

More to adjust to.

Perfect terrain for a wolf.

Booker loosened her mental hold on our four legs, so I could take control. Our tongue lolled when I didn’t miss a beat.

What are we going to do? she thought at me.

I weaved between low branches. Hmm?

My innocent tone didn’t fool her for a second.

We have a problem. You still consider the tribe your pack.

Rhona exiled me, Booker. I’m not part of the tribe anymore. Even if I wanted them to be my problem, they’re not.

She answered after a beat. Pack is pack, Andie.

A rock thudded on the ground ahead of us. We lowered to our belly, ears twitching for any sound. A growl erupted from behind, and there was only time to spin toward the menacing sound before a huge brown wolf exploded from the shrubs.

Greyson pinned us to the forest floor and licked our muzzle. Got you again, beautiful wolf.

We’re still recovering, Booker snarled back.

Lie.

Physically, we’d recovered from Rhona’s mistreatment in a day.

Greyson freed us to circle the area and check for enemies. When he returned, the giant wolf lay mostly on top of us again.

Busy day? I asked.

Sascha always seems busy, but never really gets anything done.

I grinned. Is that right?

He has something to discuss with you. Shift.

Ignoring Greyson’s lack of manners—wolves really didn’t possess them—I obeyed. When the cracks and pops of our shifts faded, I snuck a peek at the naked male beside me.

Yummy.

My scent tangled with Sascha’s, but I frowned. The river water part of his smell was churning. “What’s wrong?”

Sascha hooked some of my dark auburn hair, letting the strands slide over his finger. “The pack has filed a formal complaint against the tribe.”

My eyes narrowed. “About what?”

“A steward attacked our marshal.” He met my gaze.

His meaning clicked. My jaw dropped. “You’re making a formal complaint against me. Daniil attacked Rhona.”

“Or was he responding to your aggression?”

Oh, brother. “My Luther aggression.”

“That makes no difference. You were part of the tribe at the time. Stabattse was called. There are penalties for an attack during that ceremony.”

I shook my head. “That’s crazy.”

Though if the situation were reversed, I’d probably use the same tactic to win penalty points in Grids. And my ex-head team would anticipate the pack’s move, even if I hadn’t. They’d prepare a counter-negotiation.

I needed to butt out.

Rhona was head steward now.

“Have I hurt your feelings, little bird?” Sascha continued playing with my hair.

Had he? “Not really. I just remembered who I am and who you are.”

Told you. Booker’s voice rang in my head.

Okay, okay. I still consider the tribe pack and it’s a problem.

My sister treated me like shit recently, but the Ni Tiaki were so much more than Rhona’s actions. I’d met and connected with tonnes of stewards, Wade and Cameron included. Maybe expecting my loyalty to them to dwindle so soon after they exiled me was naïve.

It would take longer.

Sascha stiffened. “Who you were doesn’t mean anything, Andie. You’re part of this pack.”

I lived with the pack. There was a difference. “The stewards are my people. That might change eventually, and if it does, I’ll let you know. Until then…”

He released my hair and studied me. The corner of his mouth lifted after a brief pause. “You’re not the type of person to switch allegiances in a hurry. That was wishful thinking on my behalf. I just want you to feel at home here.”

“You know I want that too. I’ll try.” I rested a hand on his bare chest.

“That’s all I ask.” He brushed a thumb over my cheek. “Your tribe will come back with a complaint about Daniil’s attack on Wade.”

That’s what I thought too. “You don’t have to do that.”

“What?”

“Soften the blow. I understand that you intend to win Victratum. I understand your responsibility to the pack.” The real issue was the loyalty and responsibility I felt for the opposing team. “Hey, maybe until things change, it’s best you don’t tell me anything to do with pack strategy.”

His pine scent muted.

He didn’t like my request. I didn’t really like it either, but if I was offered crucial pack information, I’d be torn between my bond with Sascha and my oath to the tribe.

Best not to be in that position at all.

“Noted,” Sascha said at last. “Let me know if that changes.”

The sooner, the better, in my opinion.

I stared at the rustling canopy again. “How’s the