The wolf's destiny

Why, of all the godforsaken places in the United States, had Larissa, her loving sister, ended up dead? Perhaps that was the reason: it was remote, surrounded by forest, a haven from the harsh reality of the forced marriage, and secure from Bruin’s retribution should he have ever discovered her. She hadn’t been secure, though. She had since passed away.

Lelandi Wildhaven must have been wrong when she thought she saw her cousin Ural slink into the woods in his wolf form out of the corner of her eye. In order to avoid alerting the gray lupus garou pack that a couple of reds had trespassed into their area, he wouldn’t be furious enough with her to shapeshift thus near to Silver Town.

She pushed open the Silver Town Tavern’s hefty door, disregarding her gut feeling that this was a very bad idea. The rusted hinges’ screeching jarred her tense nerves.

She was suddenly terrified that the five bearded men at the table, who had turned to look at her, had seen right through her disguise.

Hating the way the fake spectacles kept slipping down the bridge of her nose, she pushed them back into position. Her head was partially engulfed by the worn-out cowboy hat she had purchased at a thrift store, giving the impression that she was a young child donning her father’s Stetson.

Brass rods supporting amber glass lamps suspended in the air over softly lit dark oak tables and a long,

Gleaming bar. The air was filled with wooden fan blades that were slowly whirling and reeked of gray lupus garou. Fresh awareness pricked her nerve endings. She suspected that the worn-out antique mirrors on the rear wall behind the bar had been silent witnesses to the events there for a very long time. What a tale those mirrors could tell if they had recorded every photo taken during the bar’s operation.

A second bearded man who had been hiding behind the bar’s lip suddenly sprang up to his full six-foot-four height. He almost dropped the glass and dish towel he was holding as his admiring gaze surveyed every square inch of her. His lips slightly raised at the corners. His tanned complexion bore deep laugh lines, and his shaggy black hair reached his shoulders, giving him the look of a hardy mountain man unaccustomed to civilized trappings. The fact that he was gray, like the others who were drinking at the table, particularly troubled her. Like the pub back home, she had assumed it would be a human-run place frequented by lupus garous.

He greete“ her warmly and asked, “What’ll you have, miss?”

She hesitated because she anticipated a cold welcome from their kind—their species didn’t want strangers entering their midst, especially if they were human—and this was a place that was just for gray lupus garou.

“Miss?”

Please, bottled water. She had intended to sound tough in order to fit in with the setting. With her red hair colored black and the high-heeled boots giving the impression that she stood taller, more like them, she had planned to be someone different. She hid her blue contacts.

Although having a clear difference in appearance—her eyes were greener and her hair was more red and less golden than her sister’s—she continued to feel like Lelandi, Larissa’s triplet. Has she been duped by her voice?

The bartender’s slight smirk was more likely caused by the fact that the woman was a stranger who had unprotected into a wolf’s lair than by the fact that she had made herself obvious. She berated herself for not masking her voice more, but the bartender’s friendly approach gave her a false sense of security that, if she wasn’t careful, could have been fatal.

She was given a large green glass and a chilled bottle of water by the bartender. New to the area?

She paid for the water and added, “Just passing through.” “The name is Sam, miss. Just shout if you need anything.

“Thanks.” It was not her style to holler for a drink.

She picked a table that was partially concealed by shadows in the room’s farthest corner. This location would keep her away from the main flow of traffic, even though any of them could see in the dark just as well as she could. She wished to come across as unremarkable, unworthy of anyone’s inspection, and most importantly, human.

Lelandi gave the door a quick peek. Her research indicated that Larissa’s widower mate Darien Silver should arrive shortly.

Sam received some cash from one of the men when he got up from his seat. He gave Lelandi a small smile before sitting back down. Tiny for a gray, stocky, with dull brown hair, amber eyes, and garments that have a coating.

He had a delicate, baby face made of dust. Had a cute, beta-wolf-like appearance. His cheeks were stained with dirt smudges, which he removed with the back of his denim shirtsleeve. He combed up his unkempt hair while keeping his gaze fixed on her and drank more beer.

Sam walked over to Lelandi and gave her the money. “Miss, Joe Kelly bought your drink. He looks a little bit scruffy because he works in the silver mine. But he keeps up well. Sam smiled at her and went back to the bar.

Should she decline Joe’s invitation? On the other hand, perhaps she could learn the truth more quickly if he had feelings for her.

She mouthed, “Thank you,” to Joe Kelly, who felt his chest swell.

The other guys began making low-pitched jokes about him. Joe’s ears’ tips darkened in color.

The idea that Larissa had the gall to mate with a gray, especially considering that she already had a mate, made her gut clench. She had stated a desire to discover herself, and she succeeded. Six feet below. Lelandi couldn’t help but believe that it was her own fault since if she had gone in Larissa’s place or even fled with her, she could have managed to keep her safe. What about their parents, though? With her father being so ill, she couldn’t have abandoned them, but by golly, she hadn’t been able to shield them either. In any case, they had been killed.

She forced back a shudder as she resented not having stopped any of it. Lelandi was going to track down her brother and their uncle and curse both of them for abandoning the family after learning what had happened to Larissa and burying the killer.

The barkeep clinked some glasses, his gaze taking her in like a crafty old wolf’s. He probably was on the younger side of middle age but due to the beard, he seemed older. The smile still percolated on his lips. Trying to figure her out? Or did he realize what a phony she was? Hunting in the wild was nothing new, but hunting like this…

She twisted the top off her bottled water and glanced down at her watch again. Only four twenty-five.

“Waiting for someone?” Sam asked, one dark brow cocked.

She shook her head. Her hat jiggled, her glasses slipped, and the annoying earrings danced.

Two men appeared in front of one of the dingy tavern windows and then the door jerked open. Her heart skittered.

“Hey, Sam! Bring us a pitcher of beer,” one of them called.

About six-foot—as tall as her brother—with windswept shoulder-length dark hair and a newly started beard, his amber eyes hinted at cheerfulness and good-humor rang in his words. Both men wore leather jackets, plaid shirts, denims, cowboy hats, and boots, and they appeared to be twins. Multiple births abounded among lupus garous, so no surprise there. They looked like they were mid- to late- twenties and walked into the place like they owned the joint. “Jake, Tom.” Sam glanced in her direction, alerting

Them to the presence of a stranger.

She stiffened her back and gripped her glass tighter. Tom—his hair the lighter of the two, longer, curling around his broad shoulders, his face smooth as silk— fastened his gaze on her and raised his brows, tipped

Back his Stetson, and grinned.

Self-conscious, her whole body heated and alarm bells rang. Keep a low profile!

Tom took a deep breath as if he were love-struck. “The place looks a might better tonight, Sam. Done some nice redecorating.”

The bearded one furrowed his dark brows. “Didn’t you tell her it’s a private club and no matter what, that table is reserved?”

“Bending the rules today. First come, first served.” Sam grinned and winked at Lelandi.

Damn. Was this where Darien normally sat? She thought he’d sit in the center, so everyone could see their leader. That’s the way Bruin did it back home.

Now what? Move? To where? If she moved to the table across from Darien’s, she feared she’d draw too much attention. Not that she expected anyone to hurt her here, but she had thought she’d be able to keep a low profile. The tables situated on the other side of the bar sat in front of the restrooms. Anywhere else was too near the front door or in the middle of the floor, and no matter what, she wanted to have her back to the wall. She wasn’t leaving until she’d had a chance to observe the leader and as many of his pack members as she could, any one of whom might have murdered Larissa.

Tom grabbed the pitcher of beer and a glass. “Come on, Jake. Change is good for the soul.” He stalked over to the table opposite her and sat where he could see both the front door and, most of all, her.

Immersed in a goldfish bowl, she wondered what had made her think she could enter the wolves’ lair without arousing suspicion.

Jake sat with his back to the wall to have a better view of the door. If he wanted to look her over, he’d have to turn his head and be pretty obvious about it. He did. The expression on his face was dark and foreboding. Gone was the humor his features had held when he first walked into the place.

Laughing and boisterous, three more men barged into the tavern, glanced to where Jake and Tom sat, then shifted their attention to Lelandi. Which meant what? That Jake and Tom normally sat with Darien at the table where she was now sitting?

Terrific!

“Howdy, boys,” the older bearded man of the group said, nodding a greeting. The other two were nearly as old, gray streaking their brown beards, their gazes pinned on her. “Bring us the usual, Sam.” He turned to Jake and pointed his head at her. “He know about this?”