Twenty Six year old Blake Hunter is the Alpha of the largest pack in the region. Finding his mate is the last thing on his mind.
But, in the midst of dealing with uninvited relations, aspiring future Lunas and increasing rogue attacks on his easter...
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It was well after midnight and a dense, grey fog had crept in across the forest floor to obscure all but the nearest trees from sight. In the gloomy conditions a human would have been completely helpless. Luckily for the seven wolves that cautiously moved through the shadows, they had the advantages of night vision and instinct on their sides, and this kind of weather was welcomed because it hid their approach well.
Nonetheless their ears, even more than their eyes, were wary. For in this type of situation, sound was far more important than sight to warn of approaching danger, and the fog highlighted the smallest snap of a twig.
It was a bad time to be out beyond the borders. By day, no-mans land was no more dangerous than any other stretch of the forest - hostile but easy to navigate. By night, the rogues who dwelled there held the advantage, and the forest became an arena where the strong fed upon the weak and unwary.
Blake Hunter however, was neither of these things. Even without his equally dangerous brother, Asher, and a half-dozen of his best warriors protecting his flank; the Alpha of the Blackridge pack was not a wolf you crossed lightly.
His huge black wolf weaved, almost invisible, through the trees and his Alpha senses - sharper than the average wolfs - paid close attention to the movements in the night. He was trained, moreover, in levels of violence that no normal rogue could possibly match, made even more dangerous by his calm, collected exterior.
Bleakly, his wolf searched through the murk for a rogue stupid enough to try an attack in the dark. Unlike his human counterpart who calculated every move he made; when provoked Rothan was a living nightmare of claws, fur and teeth... and he had really been provoked of late.
We don't have time, Blake reminded him.
Much as both of them might have taken some satisfaction in the rush, tear and slash of an encounter with an enemy they could take their frustrations out on, they had responsibilities. Tonight's venture across the borders was a fact-finding mission. An in and out foray into another Alpha's pack.
After much discussion, the brothers had decided to utilise both of their expertise during their time in Elmwood. If all went to plan, Blake would be able to negotiate for the information they needed, and the Elmwood Alpha, Syrus, would be none the wiser that a second Alpha had ever laid a paw across his borders. If Syrus proved uncooperative... well, hopefully he still wouldn't know Asher had stepped across his borders, but Blake might gain his information anyway.
As they slunk closer to the pack border, he sought to keep his wolf focused on the task at hand by reminding him why they were doing this. For their pack. For Hannah.
Rothan huffed in annoyance, but allowed Blake to take the lead.
Somewhere ahead he heard the tell-tale sounds of a patrol - a clear sign that they were close to the borders of Elmwood. The thick fog had dampened the scent trails marking the border-lines and it looked unlikely they'd be able to identify the unique aroma until they were right on top of it, especially if it were poorly maintained.
