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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The pack held its collective breath for the next three days.
Around them, the days grew inevitably shorter as autumn tightened its grip on the world. A new chill in the air hinted that winter was hiding just around the corner. The ominous whispers of war were never far away as, once full of life, the main village appeared almost deserted. Parents kept their children close by and the warriors alternated between running the borders and catching up on their sleep in between shifts.
Those venturing outdoors hid behind their thick coats and scarves. Hurrying along the streets as quickly as they dared, keen to avoid getting caught in the frequent rain showers that harassed them on an almost daily basis.
However, neither the weather nor the rogue threat could prevent the wild speculation that filtered through the fallen leaves into every corner of the territory. Every now and then two wolves would bump into each other on the corner of one of the quiet streets and the gossip mill would turn once again:
"How is he? Have you heard?"
"There's no news as far as I know. Why? Have you heard anything?"
"Just that his wounds have healed..."
"I heard there were over a hundred..."
"I heard they had to drag poor Ophelia out of the room screaming..."
"Liana told me that she overheard Rachel telling Johnathon that Jenni had told her, it took six hours to get all the pellets out!"
"No! How awful..."
The socialites risked the torrid weather only to bustle quickly between each other's houses. In their haste to make sure they missed no vital gossip, they missed the vivid reds and oranges of autumn that created streaks of brilliant colour between the dark evergreens of the forest. Like an artist who had swept his brush across a canvas of wet paint, all the elements blended together in a glorious fusion of seasonal colour.
Wrapped up in their own bubbles, the socialites were blind to its splendour, more intent on sipping tea and speculating on the latest chapter in the Alpha's romantic life:
"Has she really gone then?" One of the women would start, eager to hear all the juicy details.
"Oh yes! I heard he escorted her to the border himself!"
"Good riddance I say..." one of her rivals would mutter.
"Oh, but they were so good together, Elspeth!"
"If you say so..."
"Perhaps he'll choose Angela, then?" one of the older she-wolves would ponder.
"I bet her parents are happy she's home with them again. Awful punishment. All that girl's fault."
"Haven't you heard? Angela's still out there... Her parents found her after the attack but she wouldn't come back with them!"
