she wasn’t grateful, but lone wolves stayed away from packs and definitely far from pack business.
Curious as she was, there was no point in wondering. Stefanie wasn’t going to go out searching for him. Maybe if Wyatt hadn’t tracked her to Carmine, she might try to find this other wolf, but she needed to keep a low profile. If she was lucky, the pack would think she’d run off again and leave.
No. She grunted as she turned off the water. She hadn’t run off like a coward. Wyatt had challenged her and won. He was the new Alpha of the Nicolet pack. The loser was usually driven away, but Wyatt wanted her as his mate and wasn’t above forcing her into the position. She might’ve stayed and gracefully accepted her loss, possibly be his mate, but he was a cruel bastard and those loyal to him followed his lead.
Who was she kidding? Even if he wasn’t such an asshole, Stefanie wouldn’t have gracefully accepted any loss. The Nicolet pack was hers. Her father had been the Alpha, and his father before him. It was rare that a female Alpha came along, but she was born for it.
Several times she had considered demanding a fight to the death. She wanted her pack, her home, her life back. But there were two major problems with that. One, she couldn’t beat Wyatt on her own. And two, she doubted he’d honor the terms for the fight and keep her alive afterward. Alive in Wyatt’s den was worse than being dead.
Now she had to keep low and skulk around her own city. Stefanie grabbed a shirt from her dresser. It caught on the head of an improperly fit screw inside and ripped. Growling, she whipped the ruined shirt across the room. Nothing was going her way.
Stefanie threw on a pair of worn jeans and an Old Navy T-shirt that was a little too stretched across her chest. It was difficult to find a top that fit her properly, especially when she did her shopping at the thrift stores. Her shoulders were too wide, and her breasts were on the large side. She spent most of her meager paycheck on food and paint supplies.
Thinking of that, she reminded herself she needed to stop by the college supply store and get some more tubes of blue and red paint. Stefanie peered around her apartment. An eclectic collection of old furniture was hemmed in by stacks of paintings. She needed some canvasses too, but the way she was going through them, she’d have to settle for checking out Goodwill and painting over art she found there. It was the cheapest way to get canvas to paint on. Paper didn’t work for her.
Stefanie stuffed her feet into her sneakers and exited her apartment. Hearing someone stomping down the stairs, she peered down the stairwell to see Marc heading out. He was in a foul mood. Good thing she didn’t run into him. His usual mood wasn’t that cheery, and she was certain he could bite with more ferocity than a wolf.
The morning chill felt good on her bare arms. Even after last night’s incident, it made her want to run in the woods again. She missed home. More so, she missed the freedom she once had.
She wasn’t going to obsess over it. Keep quiet, hide her tracks, and the pack would leave soon to look somewhere else. Wyatt was a persistent son of a bitch, but he didn’t have any patience. She could wait them out. There was no choice in the matter if she didn’t want to keep running.
Another fifteen minutes brought her to the store, and Stefanie let the delight of browsing art supplies and books momentarily take her troubles away. She didn’t have to be into work at the butcher shop until eleven. That gave her an hour or so to lose herself to the feeling of soft new brushes and the hundreds of colors begging her to memorize every name.
Close to an hour went by and she found herself on the second floor running her fingers along the spines of used books. Subjects she’d never read like calculus and others she’d love to read like history and mythology.
“Need help finding anything?”
Stefanie shook her head before
Curious as she was, there was no point in wondering. Stefanie wasn’t going to go out searching for him. Maybe if Wyatt hadn’t tracked her to Carmine, she might try to find this other wolf, but she needed to keep a low profile. If she was lucky, the pack would think she’d run off again and leave.
No. She grunted as she turned off the water. She hadn’t run off like a coward. Wyatt had challenged her and won. He was the new Alpha of the Nicolet pack. The loser was usually driven away, but Wyatt wanted her as his mate and wasn’t above forcing her into the position. She might’ve stayed and gracefully accepted her loss, possibly be his mate, but he was a cruel bastard and those loyal to him followed his lead.
Who was she kidding? Even if he wasn’t such an asshole, Stefanie wouldn’t have gracefully accepted any loss. The Nicolet pack was hers. Her father had been the Alpha, and his father before him. It was rare that a female Alpha came along, but she was born for it.
Several times she had considered demanding a fight to the death. She wanted her pack, her home, her life back. But there were two major problems with that. One, she couldn’t beat Wyatt on her own. And two, she doubted he’d honor the terms for the fight and keep her alive afterward. Alive in Wyatt’s den was worse than being dead.
Now she had to keep low and skulk around her own city. Stefanie grabbed a shirt from her dresser. It caught on the head of an improperly fit screw inside and ripped. Growling, she whipped the ruined shirt across the room. Nothing was going her way.
Stefanie threw on a pair of worn jeans and an Old Navy T-shirt that was a little too stretched across her chest. It was difficult to find a top that fit her properly, especially when she did her shopping at the thrift stores. Her shoulders were too wide, and her breasts were on the large side. She spent most of her meager paycheck on food and paint supplies.
Thinking of that, she reminded herself she needed to stop by the college supply store and get some more tubes of blue and red paint. Stefanie peered around her apartment. An eclectic collection of old furniture was hemmed in by stacks of paintings. She needed some canvasses too, but the way she was going through them, she’d have to settle for checking out Goodwill and painting over art she found there. It was the cheapest way to get canvas to paint on. Paper didn’t work for her.
Stefanie stuffed her feet into her sneakers and exited her apartment. Hearing someone stomping down the stairs, she peered down the stairwell to see Marc heading out. He was in a foul mood. Good thing she didn’t run into him. His usual mood wasn’t that cheery, and she was certain he could bite with more ferocity than a wolf.
The morning chill felt good on her bare arms. Even after last night’s incident, it made her want to run in the woods again. She missed home. More so, she missed the freedom she once had.
She wasn’t going to obsess over it. Keep quiet, hide her tracks, and the pack would leave soon to look somewhere else. Wyatt was a persistent son of a bitch, but he didn’t have any patience. She could wait them out. There was no choice in the matter if she didn’t want to keep running.
Another fifteen minutes brought her to the store, and Stefanie let the delight of browsing art supplies and books momentarily take her troubles away. She didn’t have to be into work at the butcher shop until eleven. That gave her an hour or so to lose herself to the feeling of soft new brushes and the hundreds of colors begging her to memorize every name.
Close to an hour went by and she found herself on the second floor running her fingers along the spines of used books. Subjects she’d never read like calculus and others she’d love to read like history and mythology.
“Need help finding anything?”
Stefanie shook her head before
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