This morning, Chloe, Sev, and Case left to go meet up with some of the wolves to track down the Riding Hoods. All would have been good with that plan, except for two things: 1) it wasn’t their turn on the rotation to go out into the field and 2) I could tell that something was wrong. Slade and Chloe have never been able to keep anything from me. Ever. So, when they had trouble making eye contact with me and Slade started fiddling with his belt loop, I knew something was up. Unfortunately, I couldn’t mindlink them anymore, as Slade was a part of the Rising Crescent pack and I’m a part of the Mene pack after fully mating with Donavon. Chloe, Case, Sev aren’t part of a pack yet. But that, weirdly, doesn’t seem to bother anyone around here. They are their own pack and that seems to be enough for right now. After saying goodbye to my friends as they drive off towards Louisiana, I grab Slade’s arm. “We need to talk.” He looks in my eyes and I know he knows exactly what I want to

I hate this. I know that I’ve always wanted to be a tracker. A huntress. One who would take down the bad guys for the good of witches, humans, and other species. I had thought it would be a glamorous life. Like the stories that I’d heard of Arthur and Liv, as well as other brave witches out there. No one had told me that I’d be slogging through the swamps of Louisiana in the dead of fucking winter for two fucking weeks. After the first week, Arthur, Winnie, and I had gone back to prepare potions. For stealth, healing, camouflage, and defense. Then, we’d come back on this hellacious game of hide and seek with the Riding Hoods. Now, after two weeks with little comforts, like hot food, a bed, or a bath, we looked haggard and exhausted. And we smelled even worse. I can only imagine how bad we smell to the wolves with us. So, yeah. Like I said, I hate this. The freaking ambushes and near misses with the Riding Hoods didn’t help matters either. Morale in the camp is low

“You seriously thought that we could be traitors? Are you fucking kidding me?” I nearly screech at Naomi. “Those withered Roman Candles nearly killed Brandon! Why in the great holy fuck would we help them?” “I knew that you had no motive, but with everything that’s been going on, we have to rule everyone out.” Naomi’s voice is pleading with me to understand. “Come on, Charlie. She’s right. The only people they could really rule out were those that weren’t part of our planning sessions or on the actual hunt. They really did need to do it this way,” Brandon says, trying to reason with me. “And we’re some of the first wolves they ruled out knowing we had no reason to help the prunes.” He’s right. I hate that he’s right though. With the lack of movement in finding the Riding Hoods and getting ride of this threat. I’m spoiling for a good fight. Maybe my mates will go a couple rounds with me on the training grounds. Loser gets chained up tonight. One second thought, ma

The second that Gregory called, I knew that something was wrong. My heart nearly plummeted to my stomach before he told me that both he and Jamal were ok. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I don’t know how I’ve come to care so deeply about two people, two wolves that I’ve never met in real life. I have no idea what they look like when they smile, how their love for each other shines in their eyes, or how emotions flit over their faces. Shit, I don’t even know what they look like. But I know that they are mine, as destined by their goddess and mine. And I know that I need to get to them. I need to see them. Touch them. Make sure that they’re ok. Bethel’s coven willingly took in our team. Her coven, knowing that our team had been in the area for the past month, had beefed up their knowledge of some dark magic spells and curses, as well as were anatomy and healing. They wanted to be sure they could help with protection, defense, or healing as much as possible. They were the

Jamal settles in between my legs, his tongue flicking over my clit, strumming it like it’s a fucking guitar and he’s Dave Baksh from Sum 41. His fingers find my entrance, one pushing inside of me and causing me to nearly scream out my pleasure. “Fuck! She’s so fucking tight!” Jamal’s voice is muffled by my body, but I can easily hear his lust in the huskiness of his voice. Gregory moans against my breast, one of his hands running up my leg. His mouth moves up my neck, licking a long line up my body. When he reaches my ear, he whispers into it, “I can’t wait to have these beautiful legs wrapped around my waist. Or around my head. Goddess, Legs. You’re beautiful. And so fucking sexy.” His fingers pinch my nipple and twists slightly. I moan, trying to pull him to my mouth. “No, baby. I want to watch as Jamal makes you cum. I wanna hear those sweet, beautiful moans. I wanna watch you come undone.” The last is said just before he bites my ear. My legs unconsciously m