The Wild Wolf’s Rejected Mate (The Five Packs Book 5)
The Wild Wolf’s Rejected Mate: EPILOGUE

My perfect, beautiful mate does not like surprises, so she knows exactly where we’re going as we trot through the woods that run along the human highway. At first, I was sad that I couldn’t spring this visit on her, but I love watching her wolf get more and more excited the closer we get to Chapel Bell. Her short little legs are moving so fast, I almost don’t have to slow my pace.

Alroy, Griff, and Diantha don’t have my patience, so they’re several yards ahead of us. Poor Griff has to be the buffer between them, and he keeps getting caught in the crossfire when their wolves decide to break the monotony by sniping at each other.

I was worried that Annie would be too nervous to venture this far from camp, but she gets more confident every day. I’m pretty sure that’s because when we were out for a walk two months ago, she saw me take out two ferals that were encroaching on our territory to the north, so even though Killian and I pretty much fought to a draw, she knows I can handle any other comers.

She says she’s more confident because she’s been talking to her “pecking voice.” I don’t quite understand the whole thing. She explained it one night when we were snuggling in the den after sampling Mabli’s new batch of moonshine.

Apparently, there’s a voice inside her that warns her of possible threats, and she is adamant that the voice is not her wolf. Two voices in your head seems like overkill, but I’m not complaining. She’s everything to me. The more alert my mate is to danger, the better I sleep.

Anyway, she used to ignore the voice or argue with it, but she’s on friendlier terms with it now. She says it’s quieter now that it knows that she knows it’s trying to keep her safe. I told her to let it know that keeping her safe is my job, so it can take a break, but Annie just laughed and said, “You go ahead and tell it that.”

I’m not talking to the voice in someone else’s head. That’s moon mad.

I smell the town before I see its church spire rising in the distance. Gasoline, trash, frying fat, and myriad attempts to cover up the stench of it all. That’s what human towns smell like.

I remind myself to breathe through my mouth until we’re out of here.

I’ve ventured among humans before, but not often in recent years. There’s always a younger male excited to go when the need arises.

Now that Annie and I are properly mated, I’m going to all kinds of new places. I had to parlay with Killian out at an abandoned shack with a moss roof and a chimney made of mushrooms. We talked about females we’d stolen over the years, and his sire, and the old days that he doesn’t remember when our packs ran together.

Annie made me bring various gifts she’d knitted—scarves for her friends Kennedy, Mari, and Old Noreen, a blanket for Una’s pup, and a shawl for Una. It was such a big package, I had to sling it over my back and travel on two legs, which meant I had to be away from camp longer than I wanted.

It was good, though. Killian and I talked about the hunters who killed Nessa’s brother. Killian didn’t know that males from North Border were their guides. He said he didn’t know what Salt Mountain planned to do the day he came for Annie, either, and I believe him. He seems like the type too sure of himself to bother lying.

For this trip to Chapel Bell, the package Annie has set me to carry is small enough that my wolf can hold it in a bindle from his teeth. When I begin to hear the humans’ cars, I growl at everyone to stop and nose Annie’s wolf behind a tree for privacy.

Annie is still very shy of shifting in front of others. Her wolf is as unconcerned about nudity as the rest of us. This has caused a few moments of consternation, especially since her shifting ability is spotty. Sometimes, she can shift the normal way, like she did when she stabbed the Salt Mountain alpha and took twenty years off of my life, but other times, she shifts like a lost packer, which I swear hurts me more than it hurts her.

Today, her excitement seems to have the upper hand because as soon as her wolf ducks behind a tree, she’s reaching out a graceful bare arm and snapping for her clothes.

I toss her one of the short, baggy dresses she made herself during our first week together. That sewing session was spurred by an unfortunate incident when Alroy trod on the back of her wrapped gown as we walked up the trail to the dens, yanking it clean off of her, and I was not able to keep my usual sense of perspective. She had to shift, bite my wolf’s tail, and try to drag him off of Alroy before he accidentally ripped Alroy’s head off.

I quickly draw on my own pants and shirt, so I’m fully dressed when Annie emerges from behind the tree like a nymph, smoothing her pale pink shift. I hold up the slippers I made from the hide of the first elk I bagged for her. She slips her feet into them and grins at me.

“Ready?” I ask.

She nods and grabs my hand.

I carry the half-emptied bindle and swing her arm, playing off my nerves. I don’t like being so close to humans, and if I’m being honest, I’m not entirely comfortable with our visit today. Annie says she’s happy with me and our pack, and she smells happy, but I know she misses her friends.

What if she decides she wants to stay with them?

Then, I guess I’m moving to Quarry Pack. It wouldn’t be the worst life, spending my days kicking the snot out of arrogant wolves who think they’re fighters. Beats hunting down Leon for the hundredth time while his dam loses her mind. He’s much too good a climber for a pup his age. Last time he disappeared, I found him curled up asleep in an eagle nest at the top of a white pine.

Alroy, Diantha, and Griff fall in behind us as we enter town. I have to rumble at Diantha to get her to tuck her ears behind her hair. She’ll wear full skin when she has to, but she refuses to do human ears. I’m not sure if she can anymore.

The humans know about shifters, of course, but there’s no need to draw more attention to us than we already do, as strangers in such a small town. Folks already gawk as Annie leads us to the village commons even though the streets are busy. It’s market day.

As soon as we reach the grassy expanse filled with tables and tents, Alroy and Diantha peel off, heading in opposite directions. Griff seems torn, but when he sees that Diantha is making a beeline for a booth with racks of female clothing, he hurries to follow Alroy.

Annie leads us down the makeshift walkways, smiling when she’s greeted by name. My mate is still shy, but there’s no trace of fear in her scent. I breathe her happiness and excitement in, letting it flush my lungs clean of the oily town air.

She sees her friends before I do and lets go of my hand to run toward them.

My mate. My Annie. Running with a smile lighting her face.

This is a good, good day.

Two females rush around their table, the third making her way more slowly. I know them immediately from Annie’s description.

The female with the limp is Una, Killian Kelly’s mate. She’s a plain female with a quiet confidence, and her mate watches her like she’s charging into battle unarmed, not greeting a friend.

The blonde with curls who looks like a doll is Mari. She’s mated to the Haunt of the Hills. It’s hard to imagine a female so sweet and small would be with such a brute. According to Annie, he’s not as fearsome as the tales would have you believe. I won’t be sharing that with the pack, though. A healthy fear of the Haunt is the only thing currently keeping Leon from venturing even further afield on his adventures.

The short-haired female is Kennedy, the blessed one. She races to meet Annie and wraps her in a hug, swinging her in a circle.

My wolf’s instinctive snarl trails off midway as he tries to wrap his brain around the situation. His eyes and nose tell him a female is spinning his giggling mate, but his sixth sense knows a male when he comes across one. He won’t tolerate a male touching his mate, but the person smacking kisses on Annie’s cheek has breasts, and although they’re slender, a female’s hips.

I prepare to rein him back, but in the end, I don’t have to. He figures whether the shifter hugging Annie is male or female or both, Annie counts them as family, so they’re family to us, as well, and he can go back to sniffing the smells coming from the food vendors and wondering which meat they’ve ruined with their human sauces.

“What are you doing here?” Kennedy squeals, giving Annie no time to answer before she squeezes her again.

Mari and Una reach them, and the circle expands to four babbling, laughing females. I raise my eyes to meet the gaze of the three males standing with their arms crossed behind a table covered with jars of honey, candles, salves, and a dozen other crafts, all stamped or stickered with a wolf logo that reads “Cottage Industries.”

Killian Kelly, his beta Tye, and the Haunt himself stare at me stonily and then turn their heads to watch the happy females, their gazes softening. I sent word we were coming. I see they decided to keep our visit a surprise from their mates.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Mari says, bursting into tears. The Haunt’s jaw clenches.

“Oh, don’t cry, Mari,” Annie says, wiping her friend’s face with her thumbs. “Look. I brought a present.” Annie rushes back to me, takes the bindle and grabs my hand, dragging me forward with her.

She sticks out the parcel, smiling proudly. Una takes it and unknots the fabric to reveal the morel mushrooms Annie and I discovered on one of our walks.

“Morels?” Una’s eyes round.

Annie grins. “There are tons more where they came from.”

I guess this trip to market isn’t a once off. Seeing how big Annie’s smiling, I can’t mind. I’ll have to figure out a way to bring her once her belly begins to show, and she can’t shift anymore. It’s too far a trip to make on two legs, especially pregnant. I’m not buying a car, though. Could I rig up some kind of cart? My wolf would look like an idiot pulling a wagon, but I get the sense he’d love it.

Annie squeezes my hand and pulls me closer to her side—and closer to her friends. My wolf and I ignore the chorus of rumbles that erupt from behind the table.

Mari and Una roll their eyes. Kennedy blushes.

“This is Justus,” Annie says.

I show the females my neck, and their males rumble louder. Lost packers are so lost. They read respect as insolence and guard their mates by glowering from a distance. Utterly backward.

“Nice to meet you,” Una says, baring her neck briefly to me in return. Killian Kelly’s snarl scatters the humans rummaging the nearby tables.

I shake my head. I still can’t believe that Quarry Pack has the audacity to scare their pups with cautionary tales of the big, bad Last Pack when their own males act like that. When Annie told me, I thought it was funny, but the more encounters I have with their males, the more I’m convinced that it’s a scheme to keep their females grateful for the bare minimum.

The females almost immediately forget about me, bursting into an animated, overlapping conversation about everything at once. Eventually, they decide to go for tea at a human café, and I’m relegated to standing with the silent, brooding Quarry Pack males next to an enormous statue of a cow.

It’s miserable until I realize that the cow is an advertisement for a shop that sells a sweet dessert swirled on a cone. I wave Alroy over when he passes and get him to give me human money. I’m not sure where he gets it, but he’s never without.

When Killian sees what I’m up to, he finally deigns to speak. “That shit’s dairy,” he says like he’s warning me.

“What’s wrong with dairy?” I ask.

“Wolves don’t like it,” he says with the impatience of a man who thinks he’s telling an idiot something obvious.

“My mate would literally eat her weight in cheese,” I say. “Yours doesn’t like it?” I thought all females had a thing for cheese—like either they’re in their chocolate mood or their cheese mood, depending on the phase of the moon or whatever.

“Mari loves cheese,” the Haunt of the Hills says. “Sometimes, all she’ll eat for a meal is cheese on apple slices. She calls it girl dinner.”

Killian’s forehead furrows, and he doesn’t answer. Looks like he’s grappling with some cognitive dissonance. It is unpleasant being wrong.

I buy a chocolate ice cream. It’s delicious, with the added bonus that when Annie notices me eating it, she blushes bright red. The other night, she let me settle between her legs and lick her until her thighs shook. I think she might let me do it again when we get back to camp if the brightness in her brown eyes is anything to go by.

The afternoon passes quickly enough. I try two more ice cream flavors—vanilla and peach—but neither is as good as the chocolate, so I have another one of them before we leave so the memory is the freshest.

Annie cries a little when it’s time to leave, but I promise to bring her back on the next market day, and the kiss she gives me in front of everyone—totally trusting and unashamed—makes it seem like a small price to pay.

We begin our hike home on two legs. The sun sets, the woods turn a deep blue, and lightning bugs come out, flickering like fairies among the trees.

Alroy and Diantha run ahead. Griff trails behind. It’s been a big day for him. He’s going to sleep like a log when we get back.

The summer leaves rustle overhead, and the critters who hunt at night venture forth in search of prey.

Annie twines her fingers in mine and sighs.

“Did you ever think it would end this way?” she asks me dreamily, her voice husky with exhaustion. I’m going to end up carrying her at least part of the way if I’m not mistaken. I won’t mind at all.

“I didn’t even dare hope,” I say.

“Sometimes magic needs time.” She smiles at me, her heart in her eyes.

I smile back, my heart in mine.