Isis: The E6 Breeder (Lycan Breeder Series Book No. 2)

Scene Three

He knew what he was getting into when he joined. Everyone did. It wasn't just about accepting the lifestyle, the team, and the risk, you also had to reject your mate. It's common sense and tradition.

What would be the alternative? Widowed she-wolves raising pups on their own? Hopefully finding a new mate to help?

Ridiculous.

The survivors who retire at the end of Alpha Dominic's reign will raise the pups with their breeder. It takes a village, or half a dozen fighters. Each one sires a pup, and should they be killed, the remaining will raise all offspring alongside their siblings.

Alpha Dominic's heir will take over, a new E6 will form to support him, and the cycle repeats as it has for generations.

Sure, this plan wasn't perfect, but it's worked. The team is just starting to harmonize. They were not just the best of the best individually, but compatible together. Well, as much as they could be under the circumstances they face on a regular basis. Conflicts like what happened earlier with Adrien are bound to happen. Stubborn ass.

Liam walked out from the treeline into a field whitewashed by the full moon. The smell of an injured she-wolf stung his sinuses. Blood and stress. What did Adrien do out here?

Concern struck through his chest and he picked up the pace of his jog towards the flattened area with trails running to it. At least he was smelling stress and not death.

The first thing he saw was a damaged and torn up arm; the injured limb would be the first target for him had he been predatory in his venture there. Just beyond the arm was a body in a protective stance, guarding another female just beneath her.

There was blood everywhere, but it was the pumping growl that caught his attention the most. She was threatening him, even from her vulnerable position.

Her head shifted and a face hardened and prepared for battle locked in on him. Feminine features were distorted into a fierce front that even he would re-evaluate approaching.

It's going to take her a second to recognize he is of her pack and his hands will be held up until she does.

Nostrils grew and she adjusted from short bursts of breath to a regulated intake of air. The transformation started and he watched her go through fear and aggression, to hope, to acceptance. When she was done her arm dropped and the full extent of her exquisite beauty laid out before him.

"Adrien sent me."

Her collapse onto her back next to the curly haired she-wolf landed with a thump. No longer hiding her injuries from him, he saw how weak she really was. Boy, she sure had him fooled.

"You mean that guy who bit me, tore me to shreds, and left me here injured to fend for myself?"

She licked her lips and looked over to the younger wolf next to her, giving her a reassuring pat on her arm. The mid-teen curled into Adrien's mate's side soothing herself against the larger female.

"His plan sounded better in his head." And although the guy wasn't an idiot, this didn't seem like the best course of action available. "Can you walk?"

"He damaged my arm, not my legs."

The healthy arm reached up towards him looking for an assist. Responding automatically to his grip on her wrist, she gripped back and with a tug she was soon standing, a head shorter than him.

"You've lost enough blood that you might be woozy on your feet."

"Yeah, well, he said I was going to hate him for a while and that might be the only thing he got right tonight."