Brand of the Pack - Tera Shanley Page 0,30

cookies and completely spoiled.

Dean, Rachel, and Marissa were the only ones left and were lounging around in the great room together. The remote clicked away as Marissa worked to clear off the DVR. Morgan sunk comfortably into the large, leather sofa and stretched out.

“You know, it wouldn’t be such a bad idea for you to take a round of pain medication right now,” Rachel advised Grey. “You would have plenty of time for it to wear off before the full moon hunt.”

The day had obviously taken its toll on him. As the hours passed, the injuries he’d sustained last night seemed to affect Grey more and more. Though Wolf would never allow him to show so much as a limp around the others, he had slowed over time, like a snake on a cold day. He had been doing an impressive job of hiding his pain, but the wolves were more sensitive to the subtleties of posturing.

“It’s not a bad idea,” he admitted.

Grey slid a glance to Dean, whose eyes had lightened to an inhuman color. He grinned unapologetically at his wolf’s obvious calculations of just how inhibited Grey was.

“Dick,” Grey murmured.

Dean laughed. “I can’t help it. Your wolf brings out the worst in mine. I bet I could take you right now.”

Morgan stretched bare toes onto the arm of the dark leather couch. “I think it will be the same in ten years, don’t you, Rachel? A decade from now, I bet their wolves will still be competing and their humans will still be struggling to be friends in spite of them.”

“Agreed. I don’t think it will get better. I haven’t seen any improvement thus far.”

“No faith,” Dean said shaking his head as he put his arm around Rachel.

Grey squinted at her neck for the tenth time in an hour. “Where did you get your necklace?”

She frowned and sat up. “I thought you gave it to me.”

“I’ve never seen it before.”

The necklace suddenly became terribly cold against the warmth of her skin. She fumbled with the clasp as chills raised the fine hairs on her arms. She dropped the bauble onto the coffee table and tried to steady the uncomfortable dread that had snaked its way inside of her.

Dean picked it up and studied the jeweled Silver Wolf Clan emblem. “Delivery guy brought it by. Said it was important Morgan get it,” Dean said. “I brought it straight to you when I came to apologize.”

“Where’s the packaging?” Grey asked. His eyes blazed, making him look downright predatory.

“I left it in the guest bedroom we got ready in.”

The room was as silent as the dead when he returned with the box and a letter on old parchment, written in elaborate calligraphy. His eyes were wide with shock when he handed the note to Dean.

The alpha cursed and handed her the letter. The frail paper made a crackling sound as it passed to her hands. She read it twice to try to understand the words.

In honor of your special union.

-Dragon

She couldn’t get rid of the old paper fast enough. “Who’s Dragon?” she asked, handing the letter to Marissa.

“He’s trouble.” Grey sniffed the necklace with a frown of concentration. “What did the delivery guy look like?”

“Well, I didn’t really get a good look at him,” Dean said. “He wore a beige uniform and had his hat pulled down to cover most of his face. He looked down the whole time so I couldn’t tell you what he looked like, but I did smell him twice. He wasn’t wolf but he smelled…cold. Different for a human.”

Grey sighed. “Because he wasn’t.”

His words dropped the temperature of the room and silence was the chill’s companion.

“Okay,” Dean said decisively. “This means trouble, no doubt, but there’s nothing you can do about it right now. Focus on the task at hand, and Wade and I will look into it. Get through the next couple of days and relax with your new mate. We’ll hit this hard when you get back to pack property. Let us worry about this until you get your new wolves under you. Take advantage of our alliance.”

She wanted to demand them explain what was going on, and why some guy named Dragon sent her a very expensive and extravagant gift in the shape of the pack emblem from a legendary clan only werewolves were supposed to care about. She opened her mouth to beg answers, but one look at Grey silenced her questions. He was staring at her with such an intense gaze,