Under A Latent Moon (A Werewolf Tale)

Chapter 12

No one caught the feral wolf. The patrols had chased it past the territory lines, but had been too hesitant to go further for fear of leaving the territory wide open. They'd had no choice but to let it scamper off, free to infiltrate another territory.

Alpha Mark had been infuriated. Even Harley's less sensitive ears caught the yelling through the walls during the meeting that night.

The wolf simply ran off and disappeared.

The next morning, while the pack dealt with upping patrols and security, Harley locked herself in her bedroom. The incident with the wolf had reminded her too much of all she'd lost.

She instead curled up in her bed and began her next romance book. Cam had let her off training this morning, which was fortunate because it saved her from having to get on her knees and beg him not to make her go out there again.

The air conditioning kicked on when the heat of the day seeped into the air and made the outside rather damp and sticky. Though she liked the refreshing nature of air conditioning, she hadn't been able to stand it as long as she'd have liked. She didn't run as warm as the wolves. Since she wasn't yet a permanent fixture in the pack house, mentioning for someone to turn down the air was not an option. Asking them to turn down the air in their own home would be rude.

Instead, she opened her single window to let heat in and sat at the edge of the bed so that she could peer out the window at random intervals. The wind was strong today, and rustled the trees in a way that soothed Harley. Along with the songs of the birds and the whirl of a lawn mover, the outside world produced wonderful normal music. She needed to hear everyday sounds to remind herself of where she was--safe, in the pack house.

Safe.

Around noon, a light rap on the door had her glancing up in surprise. She'd told Bailey and Cam earlier that she'd rather not be bothered today. Should she just ignore it and hope they go away?

No Harley, you're a new part of the pack. You need to be present and polite."Come in."

Will stalked through the door, stopping her thoughts and catching her by surprise. When did he get back? How did she not hear the hustle and bustle of pack members excited for his return like last time? Did he just get back? Her eyes started to take in his features, his frame. No major outside injuries, at least none she could easily detect.

She didn't have time to look at much else because he swept up in front of her and reached forward to tilt her chin back. He nudged her head left, then right. Bewildered by his sudden presence, she followed along. "Are you okay?" He asked.

"Are you okay?"

Will stepped back and traced her body with his eyes all the way down to her bare toes. "Harley." He said her name on a strange half-growl--a warning.

Why did he care so much? "I'm okay." She couldn't help but reach out to grab his hand. It was warm and leathery--like the bottom of her feet. Worker's hands. Fighting hands. "How are you? How was your trip?" She patted the bed for him to sit down--not even caring that they might not be at this level of friendship yet. This sharing details and feelings kind of friendship.

Will's eyes were focused. Evaluating. As if he was gauging her health more than paying attention to the conversation. Especially as he replied, "Good. Successful."

He'd been sent out to find rogues and ferals. Ferals like the one she'd faced in the meadow yesterday morning. She tried her best to ignore the fear and unease that crawled through her veins like ivy. Icy, paralyzing, ivy.