“I’m fine,” she said.
“Keena.”
She hated how gentle Rue sounded when she used that tone. It made something fragile shift underneath her ribs. Rue had been alpha for twenty years and she’d known Keena long before she’d taken over leadership of the White Pine Pack. She’d been through the worse of it. She’d sat with Keena after the repast when everyone else had finally gone home and Keena had been staring at the front door as if Lizzie might walk through it.
“I’m working,” Keena said. “That’s enough.”
“It doesn’t always have to be,” Rue said quietly.
“I know.” Keena exhaled through her nose. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened a bit. She focused on the road and ensured her SUV moved forward without slipping.
“If you need anything, you come to me. I mean it.”
The pain in Keena’s chest lessened a bit. Her alpha meant well—she always did. That’s why she made a good leader of their pack. She was always there for every single member.
“Okay,” Keena said.
“All right. Check in on the bookstore, finish your patrol and try to not bite anyone who says Merry Christmas.”
“No promises,” Keena snorted.
Rue laughed. “That’s my girl.”
The call ended and Keena tried to relax and take in the town as it passed and something settled in her gut. She no longer knew how to love this place.
Rue’s concern lingered with her, and she appreciated it, but the concern didn’t change anything. It didn’t bring Lizzie back, and it didn’t make Christmas hurt any less.
Her wolf stirred again, more insistent this time. It wanted out.
“Later,” Keena frowned.
The animal had the nerve to huff her annoyance.
She pulled into a spot near the square and cut the SUV’s engine. For a moment, she stayed in the driver’s seat and looked out at the town in all of its winter splendor. Snow drifted lazily from the sky and snowflakes caught in the glow of the streetlamp already flickering on against the darkening afternoon. Somewhere nearby church bells rang the hour and laughter rose over the low hum of conversation and the holiday music.
Keena could admit her town was breathtaking. Her wolf pressed harder, restless now and almost seemed to be agitated. Keena rubbed the back of her neck.
“What is yourproblem?”
No answer of course. Just a sharp pulse of urgency that made no sense.
Maybe her animal wanted to be let out to stretch her legs and wanted to feel the cold air and the snow beneath her paws. That sounded better than spending another minute parked in the middle of town with memories threatening to drown her.
She shoved open the door and stepped out.
The cold wrapped around her instantly. The scents of the town accosted her—pine, sugar and smoke from wood burning fireplaces. Beneath it all was the low thrum of dozens of heartbeats and voices layered together. Her senses were picking up everything.
She shut the door and glanced across the street. The bookstore sat near the center of Main and Birch. Its front windows glowed amber against the early winter dusk. A painted sign hung above the door in elegant gold lettering spelling out Hearth and Story. Through the large front windows, Keena could make out the bookshelves, the soft glow of a fireplace and a cluster of chairs arranged around a rug that looked entirely too inviting.
A strange sense settled low in her belly.
Not dread or fear. Was that anticipation?
She frowned. Why the hell would she be nervous to meet a bookstore owner. Her wolf gave a sudden, eager shove against her skin.
The animal had gone from restless to fully alert and every instinct suddenly focused on the shop across the street.
Keena’s pulse kicked up a notch.
