why? And if the blood-feud with the Tall Grass pack had run so deep and so long, why hadn’t there been blood shed? The whole situation stank to high heaven, and it was doing her no good to wonder. It’s not even as if I can ask David about it, either, she thought in disgust. I’m not mated. I’m not privy to pack business.
Annoyance eating at her, she stomped along with Gareth, taking no notice of her surroundings until they popped out of the wood by the banks of the creek. Her creek. She glared at him. What did the wolf want? A replay of yesterday?
She wished it were possible. There were a few things she would like to rewind and erase in the past twenty four hours. Chief among them, the disaster of last night. She groaned subconsciously, diving into the freezing water to clear her mind.
Shimmering on her upward turn, she broke the surface in her human-form, scrubbing the earth and blood and most of all the scent of him from her body. If only it were so easy to scrub him from her mind.
David was furious with her for pulling yet another disappearing act. She’d never seen him so angry. She’d been under house arrest since loping into the Den House the morning before, Gareth hot on her heels, a whine in his throat.
David had looked from her to him and back again, reminiscent of the night before by the boar’s carcass, and a low growl trickled from his still-human lips. He’d looked fit to kill. Gareth had crawled low on his belly toward the enraged Den Father, and unexpectedly, David backed away, storming out of the kitchen into the clearing beyond.
“ I think perhaps it’s best you leave, Gareth,” said Bea from the hallway. “We won’t be requiring your services today. Beth is under house arrest. And I’m sure your own Den Mother and father will be waiting to see you.” She’d nodded toward the window, where the angry strides of David had come to a halt in front of the now un-smiling face of Gareth’s Den Mother.
Beth had wondered what was going on – she knew she’d just missed something, but was at a loss as to what. If only they’d include her in pack business, she might have a notion of what had made such a proud wolf like Gareth crawl on his belly toward her Den Father. She didn’t waste her breath on a goodbye for the treacherous wolf, instead opening the fridge and pulling out the makings of a sandwich. Man, she was half-starved!
“Beth, you should clean yourself up!” snapped Bea the very second she closed the door on her Guardian’s retreating form. “You look a fright, and that’s being polite.”
“ Gee, thanks,” she’d replied sarcastically. What had she ever done to this woman to make her hate her so?
“ This is no time for your childish rejoinders.” Bea pulled her apron from her waist and checked her reflection in the mirror, before wrapping a shawl around her thin shoulders, fluffing her salt and pepper hair and following her husband into the clearing. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”
“ I’m sorry,” she whispered, but her only audience was her sandwich. Bea had already left, picking her way across the packed dirt to stand at her husband’s side. There had been much animated talk going on, David’s arms swinging wildly this way and that, his head shaking from side to side in denial and anger.
Why couldn’t she just accept the pack laws? Why did she have to cause so much upset for her dear Den Father? She would, she resolved, be the paragon of virtue and trust and obedience from now on. She couldn’t keep destroying David’s trust in her. Or fueling Bea’s hatred. It wasn’t healthy in werewolf society.
Sandwich forgotten, she’d flopped into the kitchen chair, putting her head in her hands and felt her eyes tear up. She had to stop embarrassing David like this. He was all that stood between her and the rest of the pack. He was her protector, when all was