Wolf at the Door (Wolf Winter #3) - T.A. Moore Page 0,20
as she feinted for Nick’s legs. Her teeth clacked shut an inch from his ankle, baffled in the flapping tails of his coat. Nick flinched in surprise and then kicked out sharply. The toe of his boot caught Ellie in the nose, and she stifled a yelp as she jumped back. Blood dripped from her nose onto the snow between her feet. She shook her head and pawed at her nose, eyes still focused on Nick.
“Yeah, well, you should have done as he said, then,” Lach said. He met Gregor’s eyes for a second in blunt challenge and then glanced away as he lost his nerve. To save face, he pretended to check the positions of the other wolves. “One of you was exiled, one of you ran away, and the Numitor said we didn’t need either of you. This isn’t your pack anymore.”
“Pack or not, he’s still our da,” Jack said. “We want to see him. And my dog.”
Lach skinned his lips back in an expression that had more of wolf’s snarl to it than a smile. “Yeah, well, you ain’t the wolf prince anymore, Jack. You better get used to wanting and not getting, especially where that dog is concerned.”
A growl trickled out through Jack’s teeth, a thin warning that the wind peeled off his lips. Maybe Lach even missed it. That would explain why he was stupid enough to stay where he was and keep that stupid sneer on his face.
“You sure that’s a fight you want to pick, Lach?” Gregor asked. He stooped down and grabbed a handful of snow. It crunched in his hands as he wadded it into a hard-packed ball and the pricks of cold jabbed under his nails. He winged it at Ellie as she stalked a step closer to Nick, her tongue bloody as it poked out between her fangs. The ball caught her in the side, and she yelped a high-pitched yip of shock as the impact knocked her off her feet. She landed hard in the snow, breath knocked out of her. “And leave him be. If anyone’s going to eat him, it’ll be me.”
Nick laughed. The cackle of real, gleeful humor cut through the cold and tension like wire, and everyone stopped to stare at him. He swallowed hard. The corners of his mouth twisted in an apologetic smile.
“Old joke.”
One of the wolves still behind the wall panted out a laugh between white teeth as they got it. Lach’s face darkened and red smears colored over his cheekbones as his control of the situation started to slip. He’d always been the sort of wolf that thought he was butt of every joke—one reason he’d never liked Danny—and that obviously hadn’t changed.
“We don’t like smart-mouthed strangers around here,” he snapped at Nick and then glared around at the wolves as though to remind them of that fact. His point made, he turned his attention back to Jack and Gregor, his eyes hot with spite and old grudges. “And we don’t like beggars at our gates either. You’re not wanted here.”
Our gates.
Two wolves climbed up onto the wall and crouched on the stones. Thick winter coats obscured the lines of their bodies, but there were fresh scars on their snouts and legs. Another wolf that had usually picked Gregor’s side—Jamie, who was nearly as old as the Old Man but barely above a dog in the pecking order—only had half a ragged ear left on the side of his head. It might grow back, it might not, but for now it was a flap of scar tissue against his skull.
Gregor breathed in and felt the scar on his stomach tug at still-tender skin. It took… effort… to scar a wolf.
“What have you done to my pack?” Jack asked as he took in the same evidence.
The old rivalry hunched Gregor’s shoulders, a sore point even more tender than the slow-to-heal injuries the Prophets had sliced into him. That he had no grounds to challenge Jack’s claim now only stoked his resentment.
No wonder he hated Jack.
For the first time, Gregor wasn’t sure if that was his thought or leakage from the infection. He swallowed the bile that stung the back of his throat. It hadn’t even been the right question. Gregor’s voice scraped like sandpaper as he asked, “Since when do you speak for the Numitor, Lach?”
Lach nervously licked his lips and looked away. He checked the position of the Pack around him, weighed his support, and then squared his shoulders.