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teasing smile. “Watch yourself,
Hunter. Who knows, maybe having a wolf nosing around might not be
so bad.”
    She lifted her shoulders in a small
half-shrug.
    Hunter grinned. He sure as heck hoped so. He
could get used to sticking around here himself. The moment the
winter wind slammed into him and the snow crunched under his boots,
he called the wolf out under his skin and let the wild magic that
let him shift wrap him in fur.
    With a sharp yip of goodbye, Hunter sprang
across the wintry ground toward home.
     
    ***
     
    He smelled the rogue just as he left the
forest and loped up toward the pack house. Then he smelled the
blood. Shit . He glanced at the drive. A black STE vehicle
was parked in front of the house. Shifting, he tucked the wolf back
inside, and strode toward the backyard and the sound of voices. The
frigid December wind left him once again thankful that the magic
that allowed him to shift from man to wolf, also let him keep his
clothes.
    He stuffed his hands in his jean pockets to
keep his fingers from freezing. Blood smeared the snow, from his
blow-up Frosty the Snowman to the eight light-up reindeer, it
covered his side yard. His stomach twisted just as Trent Monroe,
his pack second, turned and saw him. “Deer,” he called out, before
the raw rage twisting in Hunter’s gut could continue to grow.
    “A dead deer isn’t cause for Hounds.” His
gaze cut to the tall woman standing in the snow beside Trent. Her
long silvery blond hair was wrapped in a bun behind her head. Her
eyes were a piercing green and they struck out at him, hard and
assessing.
    “No. But a missing woman is.”
    Hunter glanced at Trent. “Rylie,” his second
said, voice soft.
    Rylie Kelsen. She’d been supposed to show up
for dinner last night but hadn’t. Not completely abnormal for the
pack. Dinners at his house weren’t mandatory.
    “Lucy went by her house last night. She said
Ry had a bad break-up and she just wanted to go check on her. She
wasn’t there.”
    “And you didn’t call me?”
    His second gave him a hard look, no doubt
scenting Bree on his skin. “Lucy figured she’d just gone out. She
called this morning, still no answer, went by her place again and
smelled a wolf she didn’t recognize.”
    A growl snaked out of him. “Rogue.”
    “Would be my guess, considering we had one
leave us that nice gift,” he gestured toward the bloody field and
the lifeless body Hunter could now make out as a deer.
    “Most likely the same one harassing Bree.”
And if the wolf was making this many rounds, it wasn’t too far of a
stretch to believe he’d gone after Rylie as well.
    The Hound folded her arms across her chest,
drawing their attention. “Breanne Torres?”
    Hunter nodded. “Yes. She owns the house next
door. Caught a wolf’s scent when I went out for a run yesterday,
tracked it back to her place.”
    The woman’s lips pursed but she only nodded.
“I’ll need you to see if you recognize the wolf’s scent. Then I’m
going to check out Ms. Kelsen’s apartment.”
    Oh, he’d be going with her, but he was saving
that argument until the time came. Hunter jerked his head in a nod
and strode across the yard. Blood splattered the snow, but worse
than that, the poor animal was strung across the yard. The doe had
been torn apart. Mauled. “No one heard a thing?”
    “Happened after everyone left. I was the last
out and I didn’t get back ‘til this morning.” Hunter nodded. He’d
left Trent in charge when he’d gone on his hunt last night. “First
thing I smelled when I got here. Then Lucy called.”
    “It’s fine,” Hunter said and turned his
attention to the bloody massacre in front of him. He crouched,
leaning forward to get a good whiff as the wind tossed back and
forth in the cool morning. The tangy scent of blood, the musk of
deer, the people around him—those were the scents that struck him
first, but under it all Hunter could trace the scent of wolf.
Male.
    The same bastard he’d run across