“What?”
“We think she’s injured and needed a safe place to hide them.”
“Well, that doesn’t make any fucking sense, does it? Wolvesavoidhumans. They don’t use us for daycare.”
“I keep telling you guys. Meeraisn’t likeany other wolf. She’s smarter,” I say proudly.
Beside me, Thorin stares at me like I’ve lost my mind and then looks over my shoulder at Ezekiel, who’s standing over me. In fact, he’s so close, I can feel his jeans brushing against my shoulder anytime I move. “Zeke, do me a favor. Go get Aurelia’s bow and my gun.”
None of us move until Zeke returns minutes later with his arms loaded with weapons. He hands Thorin his hunting rifle and then gives me the bow and my hip quiver full of arrows while keeping the crossbow for himself.
Once we’re all strapped, we make our way over to the edge of the clearing where the pups are. They don’t make a sound—probably to keep from being detected by predators—and if I hadn’t seen Meera leave them, I would have been in for a deadly surprise later. The four of us keep our footsteps just as silent with our gazes scanning the tree line for the same reason.
Some of my worry abates once we’re all close enough to see them huddled together at the bottom of the barrel. The pups, realizing they’ve been had, tuck their tails and growl.
“There’s only two,” I announce despondently. “She had three. Where’s the other one?”
When none of the guys respond, I glance at each of them, noting flaring nostrils, twitching jaws, and the flat lines of their mouths. They also avoid my gaze as if they already know what must have happened and don’t wish to share it with me.
Oh no.
Breathing through the pain that slashes at me like a barbed whip, I step forward and kneel two feet from the crate, ignoring the panicked hiss of one my guys behind me.
The gray pup proves to be the more curious of the two, stretching onto his hind legs. His head pops free of the barrel—which is only a foot or so high and two feet in diameter—while his front paws come to rest on the wooden lip. The pup audibly sniffs the air for our scent. Another head, no bigger than my palm with a tawny patch of fur on top of its black snout, pops out of the barrel next to his brother. The black pup takes one look at us and releases a few more warning growls just to be sure.
I decide to name them Romulus and Remy.
Mostly because I’ve been diving into my mythologies lately after reading every gardening book my mountain men have in their collection, and they’re the first names that pop into my head. It’s almost fitting actually, if you ignore the tragic end.
I don’t even realize I’m reaching out a hand toward Romulus until Zeke gently scolds, “Whatever you do, don’t touch them. We don’t want Meera scenting you all over them and perceiving you as a threat to her pups.”
“Yeah, okay. Good point.” I pull my hand back just in time to miss the angry snap of the black pup’s teeth. I might be willing to lose a few fingers to scratch that adorable patch that makes him look meaner and cuter at the same time, but it’s not worth dying over.
Meera had come a long way with her pups in tow. She’d obviously been forced to change dens again, which means she’s probably feeling very defensive and ornery right about now.
What if it were other humans this time instead of a bear? Finally understanding how dangerous it is for the pups to get used to me and lose their natural fear of us, I back off and they go back to trying to chew their way free of the wooden barrel.
Not a minute later, their weight topples the barrel and they tumble free.
“You two stay here with the pups,” Thorin says once they’re free. “Khalil and I will try and track Meera.”
“You’ll help her,” I ask, “if she’s in danger?”
I feel all three of their gazes, but I hold only Thorin’s, who bites back whatever he wants to say and nods instead. “I will.”
“Promise me,” I urge despite my voice catching.
“I promise, songbird. I’ll help her.”
“Thank you.”
Thorin walks away, and Khalil runs a hand down my spine as he passes and follows Thorin to the trees. Worry churns in my stomach when the forest swallows them and I can no longer see their large shadows.
“What’s taking them so long?” I ask twenty minutes after Thorin and Khalil leave to track Meera. I’m more than a little anxious.
“Tracking.” It’s all Zeke says from his seat in the grass next to me. His legs are propped up, and he’s resting his forearms on his knees as he stares at Rom and Remy. The wolf pups sniff the ground around the barrel and nip at each other, but they mostly keep their distance. Every so often, he has to toss a rock to lure their interest elsewhere when they venture too close to us.
“But do you think something happened?”
