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seduce and control. He’d hopped right to and followed.
    Outside, the cold air flooded his lungs, and he sucked in a deep breath of home. Hunters spent more time outside of Willow Bend than in, and he’d done his fair share of rotations over the years. Being in town never changed, even if the people—the Alpha—did. He’d never cared much for Toman. More precisely, he’d never given the Alpha much thought at all since he’d only ever met him what, twice? Maybe three times?
    At least the snow stopped. Canting his head back, he studied the skies. Thick clouds blotted out the stars and left no moon visible—though in his bones he knew they were still in waxing moon with at least another week until full moon hit.
    He wouldn’t be in Willow Bend during the full moon. He’d be back on the border keeping a firm eye on Three Rivers. Thankfully, border duty meant he didn’t actually spend a lot of time on their side like the watchers assigned by the Alphas. No, Collin pulled the short straw for the first three months in Three Rivers. His term would be ending soon, and another Hunter would be drawn from the pool. If Owen were back by then, Dylan would toss his name into the hat.
    The door to the bar opened, spilling the light and noise out into the snow. “You’re going to get cold standing out here without a jacket.” The pack’s healer, Emma Halifax joined him at the curb, staring across the picturesque snow covered field. For her part, she wore a soft rabbit fur lined leather jacket. She bumped his shoulder. Chances were, her jacket was a gift from her mate and he’d probably hunted the rabbits, too. A nice trick some courting wolves did—bringing down prey neatly enough to use all of it for presents as well as a meal.
    Dylan never bothered to take that much time. His jacket was still in Three Rivers with Chrystal. He’d driven her back to her town and given her a lift from his truck to the front step of her Alpha’s house. Rather than stick around to play politics, he’d left the issue in Collin’s lap. If Luciana Barrows had an issue with him, well—let her take it up with Collin. He’d been halfway back to the airfield when he’d realized Chrystal still wore his jacket.
    All he said, however, was, “Not so bad tonight.” It wasn’t. The heated interior of the Wheelhouse bar was stuffy, and at least the cloying scent of jasmine didn’t irritate his nostrils. Maybe, just maybe, with his jacket, Chrystal wouldn’t freeze out in the snow if she decided to go snap more pictures.
    “No,” Emma said. “It’s not. But you still work too hard and if you don’t play or rest, you can still get sick.” The admonishment warmed him to his toes. Healers were easy wolves to be around; they soothed everyone.
    “I’m having breakfast with the most beautiful woman in the world tomorrow, so I’m sure I’ll be well fed and ready to nap in the sun afterward.”
    “Taking breakfast to your parents?”
    “Already ordered from Mrs. Sexton at the grocery. She makes the best crepes.” It might even be the first hot food breakfast his mother had eaten in a while.
    She chuckled. “How is your mother? She hasn’t been in town recently.”
    Recently could mean anything from the last month to the last ten years. His mother preferred her privacy. Once upon a time she’d joked she would have been a Lone Wolf except for meeting Dylan’s father during one of her adventures across the ocean. “They’re both great,” he said. “Dad’s probably building more furniture and she’s painting.”
    Artistic souls, both of them. They hungered to create and develop and sometimes lost themselves in their projects for weeks on end. Dylan learned early how to forage for himself and to make noise. They weren’t bad people, and they’d more than made up for their lack of attention to meal times with wild discoveries and by encouraging him to fulfill his potential.
    “Good, good.” Emma paused to glance at the Wheelhouse door.