Page 29 of Claimed By Wolves


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Ranulf strides toward it, his chest vibrating with a deep, rumbling purr.

I blink, suddenly aware of how dirty I am—mud, dried blood… and other things. The clean, forest-sweet scent rising from the bed sharpens my shame.

“Oh… I’m filthy,” I whisper.

“Don’t mind it,” Ranulf says. “We’ll fetch fresh pelts as needed.”

The other two close in gently.

Alden lifts a cup toward my mouth. “Water,” he says.

I drink it greedily, realizing only now how thirsty I am.

“Food?” Beric asks.

My hand goes to my belly, which is still full of butterflies. “No… I’m not hungry.”

They exchange a look, as if this answer carries meaning I don’t yet understand.

Alden takes the cup away and returns to my side again.

“Are these your quarters?” I ask, glancing around.

“Aye,” Ranulf says. “Are they to your liking?”

Beside the fire, I notice a little shelf holding a few books, a small bouquet of dried flowers, and misshapen pottery bowls—rustic, charming. Brightly woven rugs cover the floor. I recognizethe style; the Merrywood weaver makes similar ones. Part of the wolf tithe, maybe.

“It is lovely,” I say honestly. “I like it well.” I nod toward the corner where a narrow archway stands. “What is through that little door?”

“The bathing chamber,” Beric replies. “There are more rooms in our quarters. Ranulf has a study. And more chambers besides—for when the pups come.”

My hand drifts to my belly, and the fluttery feeling increases. “Will your pack mind that you’ve taken me?” I ask quietly. “I heard there are human women here.”

“There are,” Ranulf says dryly. “The pack leader is my brother. Last year, he took a human mate. A lass from Merrywood.”

“Aye,” Alden adds. “She is a sweet lass. And a good queen to our pack. We’ll introduce you.”

Ranulf leans closer, lowering his voice. “We are high-ranking. We can provide everything our mate needs. It is our duty now to care for you. To keep you safe.”

I reach up, touching his cheek, then Alden’s, and finally Beric’s. I want to say something more, but my eyes grow heavy.

“Rest, mate,” Ranulf murmurs. “Rest. We’ll talk more on the morrow.”

Warm happiness seeps into me, pulling me down into a comfortable, dream-soft haze. A last awareness flutters through me as I sink into the bed. Their human flesh presses in close, shifting into soft, thick wolf pelts.

Their purrs surround me, a deep melody guiding me into sleep.

Mistress Nina’s words drift back… how they prefer their wolf forms and are more comfortable like that.

That is not so bad, I decide, for I already love all their forms well.

That last contented thought fades as darkness claims me.

I lie, caught between a dream and the quiet warmth of the den. Something heavy is draped over my waist—not cloth, not fur. A limb. A… tail?

As awareness trickles back, the truth lands with a splash.

I am surrounded.