Chapter One (Edited)

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I think you're getting slower

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I think you're getting slower.

Of course I'm getting slower, that was our eighth circuit.

Blake Hunter leaned back against one of the large wooden posts on the edge of the training grounds. His eyes closed; he tilted his head upwards to enjoy the warmth of the sun.

I could still go faster, his wolf, Rothan, continued to tease from inside his head.

Then next time you can run the course, I could do with a rest.

His muscles burned in that pleasant way they do after exercise. As he relaxed, the fresh air slowly cleared the mustiness of a morning spent inside dealing with the ever growing pile of files, letters and reports that kept the pack functioning on a daily basis.

Somehow, he reflected ruefully, amongst his years of training, no one had thought to mention that the job of Alpha primarily consisted of digging his way through vast mountains of unending paperwork.

In fact, if he took the time to work it out, some days the Alpha's role seemed to be at least seventy percent paperwork.

Rothan, let out a bark of laughter. Don't be so dramatic, you love every second of it.

It's true. I do, he agreed. I just wish we could have a little more excitement every now and again.

What? The rogues aren't enough for you?

The tranquillity of the surrounding forest lulled Blake into a gentle doze, and he felt the tension drain from his body. It wasn't to last.

His moment of quiet serenity was interrupted by his Gamma, Alex, calling out to him over the pack link.

"Alpha? You have a visitor."

Blake refused to open his eyes, a small frown the only indication he'd heard. "Hold them at the border," he instructed Alex lazily. "I'll be there shortly."

"That's... not going to be possible," Alex returned, the tension in his voice palpable. "He crossed over about two minutes ago."

"What?" Blake sat up, his eyes narrowing. "Alex... why haven't you stopped him?"

"I'd rather not," Alex replied vaguely. "I quite enjoy breathing."

Blake took a deep breath, swallowing the urge let his wolf take control, and asked through gritted teeth: "Who is it?"

An image flashed across Blake's vision - a figure marching away from the Gamma and into the dense canopy of trees, the grey in his hair like hardened steel, his eyes a piercing blue.

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