Charmed Wolf by Aimee Easterling (best ereader for pdf TXT) 📕

invisible connections, which could be tugged from either end. The result was faster than a text, but also more intrusive. Everyone knew to only use the communication method for timely, important matters.

This time, the ping came from one of the pack teenagers. “Alpha. Where are you?”

For a moment, I saw through her eyes—a gaggle of wolves and two-legged shifters clustered around the single cell phone granted to their age group. Teenagers old enough to shift needed to learn pack responsibility, so theirs was the phone number we listed publicly in places like land records. If Rune had dug a little deeper, he could have found that contact point rather than applying for a role he had no interest in.

Blinking back my annoyance at the fake Consort interview, I answered my pack mate. “Glitter storage room. Is there a problem?”

“Adamant realtor.” As the youngster clued me in, she broke into a run. At that pace, the whole gaggle of teenagers would be through the door in thirty seconds.

I turned to face Rune. This was a private issue, not relevant to his fae hunt. “Return the baby to her nurse then we’ll discuss the other matter.”

Only after I spoke did I realize I’d veered from suspicion to trust in a few short moments. Why should Rune do my bidding when his wolf was twice as strong as mine? Any dominant worth his salt would at least demand information about the silent conversation I’d just dangled in front of his nose.

Instead, he half-bowed, the baby giggling as they dipped together. “Of course,” he murmured, padding back toward the nursery just as the teenagers burst through the back door in a cloud of shoving laughter.

“...talk to your parents.” The male voice rising from the cell phone was exasperated. He wasn’t on speaker phone, but we could all hear him easily with wolf senses. One teenager bent down so her response would carry to human ears.

“Our parents aren’t going to give you a different answer. We like trees. We have no interest in cutting them.”

“Timber harvest was only one of several options buyers might consider. You could sell the land with a conservation easement appended. Vacation rentals would maintain ecological integrity while....”

Another teenager leaned in to speak while the others stifled laughter. “We’re not treehuggers. More like hunters. Thing is, we’re just not interested in anything you have to offer.”

“I believe your name isn’t the one on the deed.” The realtor was starting to grow exasperated. “With so many mouths to feed, your parents will understand the value of cold, hard cash.”

How human to assume all of these teenagers were siblings just because they shared a single cell phone. That with such a bounty of youth, we’d be in debt.

Which, to be fair, we were. But not because of hungry, youthful mouths.

In fact, our current batch of teenagers had been a shining light during my seasons of grieving. I was still their Alpha, so I couldn’t afford to buddy up to them. But when I needed a boost, I sometimes strolled through the floor of the mansion where they cohabited in joyful anarchy. Being near our youth always made me smile.

“You’re doing an excellent job,” I told the cluster of youngsters now. “I’m not sure what you need me for.”

“We’re in the middle of a game,” one of the teenagers answered, his voice nearly as exasperated as the human’s. There was glitter on all of them, I noted. His came in the form of a streak down the middle of his head as if he was emulating an ultra-sparkly skunk. “We can’t play and talk.”

Of course not. Most of these kids had only started shifting in the last year or so. They spent every hour they could four-legged. And, apparently, messing with our glitter samples.

Listening to a realtor—who was currently rambling on about trusts and the value of an ivy-league education—wasn’t their favorite task.

“Alright then.” I waggled my fingers. Accepted the cell phone and the semicircle of teenagers that came with it. “Tara Whelan here.”

“Thank you for taking my call, ma’am.” The realtor’s voice turned smarmy the instant I introduced myself. As if I was a bored housewife to be won over with sex appeal. “I’m Lenny Harrison of Harrison Realty and I’m calling to see...”

“No.” I slapped him with the word then ended the call. Tossed the phone back into the gaggle of teenagers, half of whom were already shifting, never mind the clothes puddling on the floor to be left behind.

At some point, I’d have to pin them down to a lecture on transforming so close to humans. But I couldn’t muster any ire when the girl who’d originally pinged me held back her shift. She snatched the phone out of the air and pocketed it. “Thanks, Alpha.” Then, peering behind me, “Who’s that?”

Rune must have arrived while I was speaking to the realtor. Because I could smell him now, sweetness and woodsiness curling together and making me itch to amble closer to the epicenter of the heady cocktail.

Instead, I outsourced the task I wanted to keep and focused on the task only I was capable of. “He’s your next duty,” I answered, deciding on the fly that our teenagers could handle Rune’s version of trouble. When I got back, I’d have proof of the pack’s invulnerability and could send him packing. In the meantime....

“Butch, you have one hour to investigate,” I said aloud. “Don’t evade your honor guard.” Then, silently to the teenagers, “Keep him away from anything critical.”

“Yes, Alpha,” came their affirmative chorus even as Rune’s gaze slid across the writhing mass of wolves and children. For a split second, I caught a hint of something akin to longing hovering behind the emotionless exterior.

But I must have imagined it, because he only nodded and half-bowed to me. “As you wish.”

Chapter 10

It was hard but not impossible to shake my duties as I padded toward the forest. I ignored two pack pings. Waved and turned away from the