Mates: Werewolf BBW Romance (Running With Alphas Book 8) by Viola Rivard Page A

with Lark skulking in behind him. They were both barefoot, and despite her general apathy, Taylor found it remarkable that neither of them was wearing shoes. There was at least a foot of snow on the ground—snow that they were now tracking into her home.
    Glenn noticed this and looked down at his feet sheepishly. “Sorry. I can clean that up for you.”
    Taylor shrugged. “It’s fine. What do you need?”
    Unlike Lark, Glenn generally gave Taylor a wide berth, rarely bothering her unless it was something important.
    “It’s going to snow,” he told her.
    Taylor glanced out the door, which was still partially open. It had been sunny a short while ago, but now a steely grey sheet had fallen over the sky. She looked at Glenn again, offering him a small shrug.
    Glenn awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Hale will probably want you to come to the den.”
    Taylor pursed her lips. “Well, then he can come and tell me that himself.”
    “Right,” Glenn said, running a hand through his shaggy hair. “He should, uh, be here soon anyway. If it’s okay, Lark and I are going to go help with the hunt.”
    Taylor gave an absent nod. Although he made it a point to avoid her, Hale did watch over the cabin each night, usually arriving shortly after the hunt. Sometimes she caught a glimpse of his shadow moving along the trees, but generally the only sign he’d been there were the large paw prints that looped around the perimeter of her yard.
    Through her window, Taylor watched Lark and Glenn leave. Once they’d disappeared into the woods, she allowed herself to feel that nagging remorse once more. She didn’t want to be the way that she was being, she just didn’t know how to feel better. Somehow, she’d allowed herself to become complacent in her unhappiness.
    Her gaze shifted to the quail coop. The hens had already taken shelter inside the hutch and she could just make out their small forms huddled together within the small house. She knew from last week’s storm that the hutch would provide only minimal protection for them, and so she threw on a makeshift coat and headed outside.
    The frigid air chilled her cheeks and stung her lips. Glenn had shoveled the front yard several times, but despite his efforts, the wind had continued to dump fresh deposits of snow on the area, and Taylor found herself trudging through ankle-deep snow.
    A large plastic tarp was rolled up next to the coop. Taylor picked it up and unraveled it, shaking off the accumulation of flurries. With comical effort, she managed to spread it over the top of the coop and the sides from which the wind was blowing. It took a little while, and by the time she finished tying the tarp into place, her fingers had begun to grow numb.
    She debated going around back to grab some more firewood, but ultimately decided against it. Chances were, Hale was going to make her spend the night in the den anyway. The only time he made an effort to talk to her was to give her some sort of order. Usually just to go to the den when the weather was turning sour. She always slept in his room, but he never joined her there.
    Cold as she was, Taylor still lingered at the coop for a few moments, her thoughts turning bitter. Tonight, she would sleep in another room, she decided. She didn’t care that Hale’s room was the warmest, or that his bed of furs was impossibly comfortable. She’d rather sleep in a cold, hard bed than lay awake in Hale’s, hoping that he’d come and join her.
    “Two months of getting the cold shoulder for no reason and you’d probably still cuddle up to him like a kitten,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes. “You’re so pathetic.”
    Folding her arms under her breasts, Taylor hunched her shoulders and headed back towards her cabin. She didn’t walk, so much as stomp up her stairs, and in her seething anger, she forgot all about the snow that Glenn had tracked into the house. Since she’d been outside, it had melted into slush. As she