The wolves met at full speed, bodies brushing as they circled. They sniffed, shoulder-checked, pressed together with a grunt and a snarl that said everything. Kenny headbutted Silas hard, a shove toward home. Silas growled but turned and ran.
And the hawk flew above them, soaring the icy winter currents with her wings stretched wide.
When the trees thinned and the meadow finally stretched out before them, she sped enough to land before they arrived, alighting in front of the stage. Shechangedand dressed quickly, since it doesn’t take long when it’s only a dress and boots. Her body was still flushed from the wind and magic, heart still thumping with it.
Kenny’s wolf came out of the trees and shifted mid-stride, a shimmer of wolf-light one second, a naked man the next.
Silas came prowling out of the forest on four legs next, but he waited until he was beside his clothes tochangeback to man and then methodically pull clothes out and put them on.
Human again, he seemed better, but clearly still troubled.
Kenny stood waiting at the far edge of the cubbies, arms crossed. Still naked, like the cold didn’t bother him at all.
“Problem?” he asked softly.
Silas nodded, still not speaking.
“I saw the grief in your face through the windshield,” Willow told Silas, who only grunted and tossed her his jacket.
She ignored the fact hawks have a higher body temperature than wolves and put it on. Her instincts told her to just do it. Arguing is never appreciated and, while he was already in a mood, wouldn’t be wise.Mostly though, he was already beyond stressed, and the last thing she wanted to do was add to it.
They walked back to the house in silence, Willow between them, until the lights from the house appeared through the trees.
“Boone,” Silas muttered. “God bless the man and his meat obsession.”
Willow was about to ask what he meant when she picked up the slight scent of something rich and spicy. Wolf noses clearly knew more about whatever Boone was cooking.
Inside, the kitchen was toasty warm, and the sharp tang of cumin, chili powder, garlic, and peppers hit her sinuses. The scent hit like a comforting spell, all rich and primal.
Boone stood at the stove, shirtless, spoon in one hand, beer in the other.
“Three-animal chili,” he announced without turning. “Beef, chicken, buffalo. The best kind of trinity.”
“It’s ungodly delicious,” Kenny corrected.
Willow filled glasses without needing to ask what they wanted. If Boone had chosen beer, the rest would, too.
Silas stood in the doorway like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. Willow stepped to him, laid a hand on his chest, then pulled him into a hug.
“I wasn’t alone,” he murmured, arms folding around her. “You came with me.”
“I did,” she whispered. “I would again.” Even though she wasn’t sure yet whether Kenny approved.
Boone turned, finally taking them in. “You good?”
Silas let out a long breath, and he held onto Willow while he told them. “Kid who worked for me. Dishwasher. Seventeen. One of the good ones. The crash on the interstate that shut it down this morning, that was him and his mom, both dead. Damned semi just ran right the fuck over them.”
Boone’s jaw flexed, but he only shook his head and ladled a bowl of chili and set it on the table in front of Silas’s chair. “Start with food.”
Kenny sank into his chair with his own bowl of chili in hand.
Silas sat, lifted his spoon, and ate.
“Marcus is coming to the restaurant tomorrow night,” Silas said after a few bites. “Talk to the team. Help them start processing.”
“Smart,” Boone said.
They ate, quiet at first.
