Wolf Claim (Wolves of Willow Bend Book 3) by Heather Long Read Free Book Online Page A

Mason.”
    He said nothing, and the silence pulled her nerves taut.
    “A dozen deaths in two years? That’s a lot for a pack.” Willow Bend saw one or two natural deaths in a year. Wolves were built hardy, and they lived long lives with a low incidence of illness. Injury, however, was an entire other story.
    As though following her line of thought, Owen said, “Unless there’s a dominance fight within his ranks.” Though rare when a strong Alpha led, the rise of some dominants could have an unsettling effect on the mortality rate—particularly among males.
    “But wouldn’t the Alpha know?”
    “Yeah.” He nodded.
    When he added nothing more, her stomach cramped. “You think if he knew, he wouldn’t tell Mason that.”
    “Gillian,” Owen said, slanting a long look her direction. “Do you think Mason would agree to send you into a situation where the Alpha’s position is under challenge by fast-rising dominants?”
    No. Because a pack at war with itself would quickly disintegrate into chaos, particularly if the Alpha didn’t step in and deal with the troublemakers himself. “Not all dominance challenges end in death.” Willow Bend had them, though usually limited to maturing adolescents. Some males were so evenly matched that a brutal fist fight had a way of settling the matter. In fairness, she’d seen it with some of the female Hunters, too. The men had a habit of wanting to defend their women, protect them, even the strongest of the females. Those women would challenge the men around them.
    “No, but if a pack is unhealthy? It happens more than you think.”
    “Willow Bend is healthy, though.”
    “Healthier, yes. Completely healthy?” He shrugged.
    Shocked by his assessment, she slid one hand to his forearm and squeezed. “How is Willow Bend not healthy? I know we’ve been adjusting since Toman’s death, but Mason is a good Alpha.” Grief sparked in her. The night Toman died had left the pack keening. The Alpha challenge had been fair and well fought, but it didn’t mean they hadn’t hurt at the loss of a man they’d followed. Toman had been Alpha for all of Gillian’s life. She’d known Mason a little before he’d gone Lone Wolf, but she was only a couple of years younger than him. Funny that he calls me little one.
    She wondered if he remembered the closeness in their ages.
    “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
    “Sadness is a part of life.” Reflection. Remembering. They were important. “It’s when we pretend everything is all right when it isn’t that we run into trouble.” Delusion in a wolf was a dangerous adversary. Though they weren’t prone to mental illness, they were not immune from it. She’d seen one case, when she was much younger, and it had been a horrible experience. The wolf in question hadn’t quite become a mankiller yet, but he’d been dangerously close to the edge. An edge he apparently recognized because he’d come to Emma and asked her if he had any hope of survival.
    The man had stood in the middle of Emma’s living room, the sour stench of his sickness poisoning the air. Emma had ordered Gillian to leave, using a tone so stiff and cool, it had been foreign. Frightened, Gillian fled and ran to find Thomas, Emma’s mate.
    He’d taken one look at her, likely caught the hint of the other wolf’s stench on her, and ordered her to go for the Alpha. Then he’d run. The sick wolf had been buried the next day. She never knew if it had been Thomas or Toman who put him down, but Emma had closed in on herself—gone silent for days.
    “Hey.” Owen squeezed her hand twice. “Are you all right?”
    “Yes, I’m fine.” It wasn’t a total lie. The memory wasn’t a pleasant one, but it could hardly hurt her.
    “Don’t lie to me, Gillian.” The hint of order in the words rankled her.
    “I wasn’t lying. At least—it was a long time ago. We’re talking about things that cause death in packs and I remembered a very sick wolf