Coyote Wolf [MXM]

1 | COYOTE WOLF

     "I think I'll go and confirm that," I said, letting myself channel my wolf hearing as I squinted into the distance. A frown formed on my face when I could catch the sound of movements behind the trees. I stepped forward and heard whatever was hiding behind the trees step backward.

     "Okay," Maggie said, packing her curly hair up in a puffy bun before looking away from me after Peyton and Lagasneire started making their way towards the younger wolves.

     I smiled, waving them off before walking towards the dense trees. It was dark because of the canopy the trees had made to shield the forest floor from the sun. I walked around for a bit, and after ten minutes of wandering through the thick woods, I started to think that maybe I had overreacted to the sound of a scared hare or something.

     I hummed, wondering if I should just turn and leave, but a part of me wanted to see the riverbank and the other end. It stretched all the way from the overhead bridge in the city to somewhere towards the end of the state lines. I nibbled my lip, staring into the woods before deciding to keep going.

     Wrong choice. Just at that moment something—no, someone—fell from above, startling me with a growl. I staggered, taking a few steps back as I re-evaluated my shock. My first instinct was to growl back, look up and ask the person who the fuck they thought I was, but when I looked up and held a gaze with the brown eyes that belonged to my attacker, my frown softened and my impulsive action to dominate was reversed. I gawked at him, feeling my chest tighten up and my wolf stir.

     My wolf stirred, and my eyes went wide when I realized what this was—who this was.

     My mate.

     My lips parted open, but I was too stunned to know what to say. The man looked a year or two older than me. He stood taller, and even though he was leaner you could tell that he worked out a lot. He was dark-skinned, but not as much as me.

     Mixed race maybe? Black and Native American, not indigenous to Canada. My guess was based on the impression of him that I had gotten, that he was not a full werewolf. His defense stance was off, and he was alone, which was unheard of for wolves. He reminded me of Juliet, a coyote wolf in my pack. That was it. He acted like he was part-coyote. It would make sense. Around here, coyotes tended to be Native Americans that had fled into Canada after the Sitting Bull clash with the US army. Some went back to the USA after a while, and some stayed, making Canada their home.

I was still inspecting my mate when he opened his mouth and said, "Your stop's here."

     I watched as he put the tip of his staff on the floor before drawing a faint line on the moist ground. "If any of you mutts cross this line, I'll shoot you," he said in a matter-of-fact tone before looking up at me with his deep brown eyes. I noted the keloid scar that ran up his arm and into the sleeve of his shirt, and I also noticed the bag he was carrying. It had a dead rabbit's ears poking out of it.

     Oh, he's a hunter. I thought, letting myself inspect him again. He wasn't smiling.

     "I'm serious," he said, frowning at me before pulling the wooden staff aside. I couldn't say anything in response. My mouth wouldn't move, so instead, I gawked at him as my wolf freaked out inside me.

     This was our mate, standing tall and looking annoyed right in front of me.

     "I was—"

     "If you understand there's no need to talk," the man said, looking up at the canopy the branches of trees had made above us. "I'll be going. I don't come to the edge of my lane much, but if I sniff any of you wolves out, I'm going to shoot you. Don't test me. I hope I've made myself clear." He repeated his threat then took a few steps backward before turning around and disappearing into the woods.

     I blinked, closing my mouth that had been open from shock.

     "What just happened?" I asked myself in a low voice. I rubbed the back of my neck, frowning a bit as I recounted the incident. That man was my mate. I had felt it. He must have felt it too, right? Was he intentionally ignoring it? Had I just been rejected by proxy?

     I felt a pang in my chest. My wolf didn't like that idea.

     I was still stunned when I walked back to the group of wolves I had left behind to chase after the man.

     "Naylan?" Maggie called out to me when I didn't say anything, I kept walking in the direction of our campsite.

     "Our territory stops at the Maple trees," I said, still moving. I knew that the other wolves seemed confused, but they didn't question me and followed me after some understandable hesitation.

     After a while, one of the wolves felt comfortable enough to talk. Some others joined them and soon they were having a conversation behind my back. Maggie walked up to stroll beside me. She didn't say anything, but I knew that she had something on her mind. She wanted to ask me what happened back there, and why I had such a stunned look on my face.

     On a normal day, if I felt one of my recruits wasn't feeling well, I would have asked why. I would have cheered them up, and maybe also given them a speech about how the pack was their family, but I didn't feel up to it today. My mind was flooded with thoughts of the man from the forest. I remember how angry and defensive he had looked even though he had stared me down with his staff and talk figure—he had been unsure, but not afraid. It was more like he was gauging me. The man was my mate. My wolf had stirred, so why had he ignored me? Coyotes had mates too. He should have been able to feel it. I hadn't even learned his name.

     I sighed, disappearing into my cabin when we got to the campsite. I needed time on my own away from the others to think about things.

     To think about him.