wolf society worked.
Nicole slowed again before entering another sharp curve and tried to control her breathing. When the rage slipped away, it was immediately replaced by guilt. Her parents had tried to give her space. They had accepted the lack of visits home as the tacit rejection of her place as their heir it was, and they had been trying to have another child to take over as alpha instead. They didn't have any more freedom to break tradition and give the succession to a cousin than her. If there wasn't an heir, the Blackwood pack would be broken, the members would intermarry into other groups as refugees with uncertain places, and their pack's stories and history would be lost.
Her mother had lost three pregnancies in the years she'd been gone, and this one had been her last chance, apparently. She must be feeling terrible right now.
Nicole pushed back the guilt with the anger and tried to look at things from another angle. It wasn't like she had any choice about this. It wasn't all horrible, anyway. She'd have other wolves to run with. She'd be able to hunt again. She'd have the mountains – a PhD in earth sciences gave her plenty of field work, so she'd had nature, but she rarely had time to slip away and shift on those shifts. Even when she did, she was alone.
Alone. That word pulsed in her head with her heart beat, as it had for so long. Wolves weren't meant to live without other wolves. She'd have her family back, for good or for ill.
And she'd have something else. Her father had mentioned that they were trying to set her up as soon as possible, “all things considered,” which was a nice way of saying that as a teenager Nicole had practically chewed holes through her walls from stir craziness living with her parents, and they wanted her married as soon as possible so she could move out .
She wasn't sure how she felt about being set up. Nicole had met most of the eligible possibilities before she left home, and not thought much of them. Still, though, at least there was a future possible. She imagined running through the woods with her mate instead of awkward small talk in coffee shops not having to explain why her body language was all off and she never remembered to act subservient enough to seem to be a human woman. There was sex, too. It was so clumsy with humans, who were unathletic and liable to smash their heads into yours or clip teeth together at the worst times.
Wolves used their bodies all the time and didn't forget how to move. More than that, the pack bond gave you an insight into your mate's mood. There were still misunderstandings and miscommunications, but at least it was usually pretty clear whether you wanted to be chased or left alone, or whether you wanted to be held while you cried or kissed.
Nicole was halfway into a daydream about her fangs sinking into the throat of a stag, tasting its life blood and dragging it back to share with her new mate, when she came within sight of the long, gravel road that would leave her into the area residents sarcastically called Wolf Home Mountain. She shook off the mental images, undoubtedly inspired by her last date at a truly terrible restaurant, and turned the car.
“Home, sweet home,” she murmured to herself, and fought the urge to howl a greeting. They'd know she was there soon enough, when she walked in the front door.
***
The day held little enough conversation. Everyone was focused on assessing damage and making plans for repairs. It made for a surprisingly subdued pack. Nicole counted heads worriedly, wondering what the reason for the silence was; wolves were never this upset over property. Was it just about her mother, or were there deaths? She didn't see anyone missing who should be there, but this was only the adults.
Her mother showed up at lunch time with food. Nicole studied her worriedly, but while she stayed in a chair instead of getting up to check on people as usual, she seemed alright. A little pale, maybe. Nicole breathed
Nicole slowed again before entering another sharp curve and tried to control her breathing. When the rage slipped away, it was immediately replaced by guilt. Her parents had tried to give her space. They had accepted the lack of visits home as the tacit rejection of her place as their heir it was, and they had been trying to have another child to take over as alpha instead. They didn't have any more freedom to break tradition and give the succession to a cousin than her. If there wasn't an heir, the Blackwood pack would be broken, the members would intermarry into other groups as refugees with uncertain places, and their pack's stories and history would be lost.
Her mother had lost three pregnancies in the years she'd been gone, and this one had been her last chance, apparently. She must be feeling terrible right now.
Nicole pushed back the guilt with the anger and tried to look at things from another angle. It wasn't like she had any choice about this. It wasn't all horrible, anyway. She'd have other wolves to run with. She'd be able to hunt again. She'd have the mountains – a PhD in earth sciences gave her plenty of field work, so she'd had nature, but she rarely had time to slip away and shift on those shifts. Even when she did, she was alone.
Alone. That word pulsed in her head with her heart beat, as it had for so long. Wolves weren't meant to live without other wolves. She'd have her family back, for good or for ill.
And she'd have something else. Her father had mentioned that they were trying to set her up as soon as possible, “all things considered,” which was a nice way of saying that as a teenager Nicole had practically chewed holes through her walls from stir craziness living with her parents, and they wanted her married as soon as possible so she could move out .
She wasn't sure how she felt about being set up. Nicole had met most of the eligible possibilities before she left home, and not thought much of them. Still, though, at least there was a future possible. She imagined running through the woods with her mate instead of awkward small talk in coffee shops not having to explain why her body language was all off and she never remembered to act subservient enough to seem to be a human woman. There was sex, too. It was so clumsy with humans, who were unathletic and liable to smash their heads into yours or clip teeth together at the worst times.
Wolves used their bodies all the time and didn't forget how to move. More than that, the pack bond gave you an insight into your mate's mood. There were still misunderstandings and miscommunications, but at least it was usually pretty clear whether you wanted to be chased or left alone, or whether you wanted to be held while you cried or kissed.
Nicole was halfway into a daydream about her fangs sinking into the throat of a stag, tasting its life blood and dragging it back to share with her new mate, when she came within sight of the long, gravel road that would leave her into the area residents sarcastically called Wolf Home Mountain. She shook off the mental images, undoubtedly inspired by her last date at a truly terrible restaurant, and turned the car.
“Home, sweet home,” she murmured to herself, and fought the urge to howl a greeting. They'd know she was there soon enough, when she walked in the front door.
***
The day held little enough conversation. Everyone was focused on assessing damage and making plans for repairs. It made for a surprisingly subdued pack. Nicole counted heads worriedly, wondering what the reason for the silence was; wolves were never this upset over property. Was it just about her mother, or were there deaths? She didn't see anyone missing who should be there, but this was only the adults.
Her mother showed up at lunch time with food. Nicole studied her worriedly, but while she stayed in a chair instead of getting up to check on people as usual, she seemed alright. A little pale, maybe. Nicole breathed
Similar Books
![Evans, Gabrielle - The Hunger [Fatefully Yours 7] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever ManLove)](https://fs.dianahicksbooks.com/615387/thumbs/152x264/evans-gabrielle-the-hunger-fatefully-yours-7-siren-publishing-lovextreme-forever-manlove.jpg)
