senses at night. He could hear the faint rasp of her breath, deep and even with sleep.
In another few minutes, he would lose that sense of her unless he opened the door and joined her.
He would lose her scent, too, because the sun was a devouring thing that swallowed the Moon’s gifts during daylight hours.
His inner wolf snarled at the prospect of losing her but Beck’s options were few.
She hadn’t exactly opened her arms and welcomed him into them. Not that he needed the invitation--he had no qualms taking what he wanted, especially if the only thing standing between him and his desire was a thick wall of stubbornness--but instinct told him taking would be a mistake.
He only had one chance with her and this was it. If he took, the push could send her over the edge. If he pushed, she wouldn’t be waiting the next time he came back.
And he would come back. She resonated with a rightness that appealed to him as man and wolf. Beck had given up on finding his Moon-given mate, but hope had come back to him during the hours Cross spent driving around, confusing anyone who thought to pursue.
Turning away from the mystery on the other side of the door, he went back outside. Cross, Maverick and Anders leaned against the truck, waiting for him.
Prince hovered there, too. Beck knew that body language, a yearning for inclusion in a group that couldn’t possibly open its arms.
“Are we pulling out?” Maverick asked.
“The sun’s up.” Prince turned his face east and squinted into the soft light. He didn’t need to voice his invitation.
Traveling by day would be a strain, leaving the pack as vulnerable as humans. As a rule, shifters hunkered in their dens, hidden and safe, during daylight hours. The property was secure for now but whatever January’s housemate was into wasn’t worth the risk. Beck shook his head. “Let’s go.”
Crouching, Anders flowed into his natural form, the gray wolf he’d been born. Maverick held the door of the truck open and Beck’s alpha second sprung up into the cab. He settled in the back, his preferred place when riding inside the confines of the truck, and lifted his muzzle to sniff the air.
Sex smell .
Beck grinned. Some things, a nose knew regardless the position of the moon or sun in the sky.
Anders chuffed and curled his lip. Something wrong with her wolf.
She claims she doesn’t have one.
She does. Asleep. Deep, deep asleep. Anders turned his gaze to the window and didn’t reach out again.
Rolling Anders’ impressions over in his mind, Beck separated his second’s disapproval from what he’d said. Anders had clearly taken issue with something about January, but his observations about her wolf stirred Beck’s curiosity.
He wanted to know her secrets.
Minutes later, Cross was backing down the driveway. He nodded at Prince, who still stood on the lawn, watching them leave.
“Think that’s going to be trouble?”
“Not a doubt in my mind.” Beck closed his eyes and reached out, extending mental feelers for Jared, who had separated from them at the beginning of the night.
Sunlight warmed his face through the windshield. At the same time, it severed his mental link with the pack. Jared was a fuzzy impression in the back of Beck’s mind, alive but indistinct.
Jared’s report would have to wait for nightfall.
“Her last name’s Cabot,” Cross said.
Beck opened his eyes. Cross pointed at the rural route mailbox at the end of the drive.
Maybe he had a way of finding out what January was hiding.
“You still have a phone in the glove box?” Not waiting for an answer, Beck popped the small door in front of him and felt through the vehicle’s paperwork.
“It’s in there.”
Beck kneed the glove box closed and turned the phone over in his hands, working out the details. Werewolves had little use for cell phones. Pack link suited most needs and the likelihood of being in range of a service tower when he needed to make a call was slim. Cross kept a