Hunting the Hunter (Second in Lone Wolf series)

Chapter Thirty-Two

“I can smell that butterfly!” Maggie exclaimed as she ran in circles around Brie, hopping, jumping, skipping, doing all the things that her foot had never allowed her to do as a mortal.

Grange’s alpha blood had not only turned the girl into a werewolf but it had also corrected her vision and healed her crooked foot.

Brie had never seen a child so happy as Maggie had been once the fever had left her body and she had realized she could finally run just as easily as everyone else.

“Yes, what does it smell like?” Brie asked with interest as she adjusted Creed on her hip. Farrah walked alongside them quietly. They were heading back to Brie and Nickolai’s cabin having just taken the kids to the tiny lake nearby to wash them up for the night and let them play.

“It sure don’t smell like butter.” Maggie replied with a frown as she stopped running and her chest rose and fell quickly from exertion. It seemed that the girl could never hold still for very long and soon she was skipping alongside Brie and Farrah.

“Mama?” Maggie asked after several moments of silence. Brie smiled and looked down at the dark haired girl. Mama sounded nice. Brie and Nickolai had come to terms with the fact a long time ago that they would never have children.

The scent of a barren womb was thick on Brie and it had always been something that made her feel guilty, knowing that she was depriving Nickolai of a chance at fatherhood.

But now this little angel was in their lives and Brie had never been happier. And Maggie was doing wonderfully. She was handling the werewolf very well. While Brie hadn’t allowed the girl to shift yet and had been teaching her breathing techniques and how to count backward to calm her temper and keep the shift at bay, she knew that in a weeks time the girl would have her first shift on the night when all were creatures shift.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Brie asked the girl, laying her hand on her dark hair to still her skipping. “And quit bouncing around so, you’re getting all sweaty and you just had your bath.”

Maggie gave her a guilty smile and began to walk normally.

“When is my papa going to be home? And Ella? I miss Ella. I miss the alpha’s too. Where are they?”

Brie felt an ache deep in her chest. Two weeks the pack had been gone and with each passing hour that they didn’t return, Brie felt doubts creeping in. Doubts that told her they may not be coming back.

“Soon, sweetheart. They should all be home soon.”

“You’re lying.” Maggie pouted as she crossed her arms over her thin chest.

“Why do you say that?”

Her tiny nose curled. “I can smell it. Lies stink.”

“They might not be coming back at all.” Farrah spoke up for the first time all afternoon. “Something bad might have happened.” Brie knew that the werelion was frightened and worried for her mate. She was angry that the child in her womb had forced her to left behind. Brie understood how she felt. The wolf in her was desperate to find her mate, protect him, stay by his side… She knew the lion in Farrah felt the same.

“Are they dead?” Maggie asked quietly, cautiously, clearly afraid of the answer.

“Of course not!” Brie exclaimed, throwing Farrah a warning glance. “They’ll be home soon, sweetheart. Now let’s get home so we can all rest.”

They were nearly home, the cabin was in sight, when the sound of tearing fabric filled the air.

Brie looked back and down and saw that the skirt of Maggie’s light blue gingham dress had gotten hung on a thorn bush and torn.