Big Red and the Little Wolf

Chapter 8

Echo pov

The anxiety of the pack buzzed everywhere I went. Whereas the hunters' presence only caused minor agitation when I was the only one who faced any injuries, the loss of a warrior sparked a fear in everyone that caught like wildfire.

The hunters were all anybody could talk about. While being found by one was always a possibility, they seemed to come in waves, sniffing around the pack until they could add more pelts to their collections. It didn't help that in this pack the most prominent memories of hunters were tied to the loss of a beloved alpha.

Pack members were still unhappy about being unable to shift, but they understood it for the most part. In the case that anyone should disregard the new command, the amount of guards on shift increased. Most were put on the border to keep the hunters from coming in, but some were placed closer to the pack so they could keep people from venturing out to where it would be more dangerous.

The hunters plagued my thoughts just about as much as they did for everybody else, though it wasn't always for the same reasons. Facing head to head with one of the hunters opened my eyes to how much of a danger they were to me, but even then, I couldn't get the scent of the hunter out of my head.

The scrap of fabric I found in the woods lay hidden in my room at the bottom of a small jewelry box I had bought used after I started to live with the pack. I didn't want anyone to find out that I had concealed evidence, especially Derek. He wouldn't understand why I held onto something that belonged to a hunter or why I would keep it from him.

Part of me didn't dare believe that the scent belonged to my mate. Ever since I shifted and learned about the world of werewolves, I doubted that I would ever be mated in the way that Derek explained how all wolves have a mate. My supernatural abilities were always so much weaker than everyone else's in the pack. After all, I was more human than wolf.

No matter how much I tried to ignore the way people looked down on me in the pack, their words often made me feel that I didn't deserve a mate. It didn't make sense for the moon goddess to waste her time pairing someone as weak as me. And nevertheless with a hunter, something I never imagined would be possible. At the same time, I couldn't come up with another reason for why I would be so drawn to the scent.

As I entered the packhouse, the group that was hanging out in the living room cast me an uninterested glance. Though no one wanted to waste their precious attention on me, everyone paid me at least a little mind if it meant they could give me judgemental stares and disapproving looks.

"My wolf is not going to last very long being trapped inside," one boy commented. He said this immediately after his dark brown eyes pierced through me, as though they had spotted an enemy. He didn't raise his voice, but he didn't have to. His soft tone was loud enough for me to pick up on. Whatever he was going to say next, he wanted me to listen.

"Mine neither," a friend agreed. Both boys had short brown hair. But whereas the first boy's hair maintained a head full of curls, his friend's hair was pin straight.

"Historically, hunters rarely ever have the capabilities to take out an entire pack." The beginning of his history lesson made me stop in my tracks. I leaned against the wall at the end of the foyer, just outside of where the group sat. None of them could see me, but the boy continued as if he knew I was still listening. "Once they have a few kills under their belt, they go on their merry way."

"That's why we have to wait out the hunters." This time, it was a girl who spoke.

"Not necessarily. We could speed up the process."

"What are you saying?" a boy asked.

I imagined everyone huddled together, leaning in so they could plot together. Whatever this boy had in mind, I wouldn't like it. I was used to other pack members considering me a disgrace, but the way his eyes tore through me and his mouth puckered as though he tasted something sour, made it clear he was the type of person to do something about whatever was displeasing to him.