Once Lost Lords (Royal Scales, Book 1) by Stephan Morse

stuff.
    “Don’t be surprised if someone checks in on you while
you’re out here.” The pack leader stated.
    “I’d expect nothing less,” I shrugged.
    “Good, and next time?”
    I nodded for him to continue, figuring that the next part was a
verbal backhand.
    “Warn the pack ahead of time, Mister Fields.” He threw
out the comment in an offhanded manner. Worry crawled across my mind
as he slipped away. Their Alpha had known my name.
    Shit.
    I stood there trying to puzzle it out. There were only a few people
that knew my last name. Fewer still were aware I could track. As I
walked away from the slowly rising sun I tried to puzzle out how
exactly he knew me. The woods were far enough north that the pack was
probably different than the ones back home.
    Was it Daniel sending someone to keep tabs on me? Perhaps. He was the
only person I knew locally. So much for thinking I had been sneaky in
my escape. Daniel might have set out feelers to every contact he had
in the area to track down the elf. An elf I still didn’t know
the name of.
    My shirt was exchanged for something fresher. Scratches on either leg
were carefully washed out then bound with torn strips from the old
clothing. I had expected worse. Nothing here would leave a scar.
    While walking it occurred to me how pointless this entire trip had
been. Me, trying to track an elf into the forest. Not only could he
outrun me, he would out-survive me. Clever, if his goal was to
escape, then a forest was the perfect place.
    Wolves’ inability to smell elves was typical. They had hyper
senses, but elves moved through nature without many traces. Entire
packs had been decimated due to forest ambushes during the civil war.
My advantage was tracking. The distance between the elf and I had
lessened yesterday.
    Tracking could lead me home too. My apartment was an unerring and
nearly ceaseless pull. The four years away had been tough. I had been
sitting in a studio that I rented by the week when my memories of
home flooded in out of nowhere. I was on the continental bus home
before my brain had fully registered what was happening. As for this
current situation. Another day or two wouldn’t hurt. This elf
was mine to hunt.
    Autumn’s onset created a colorful landscape to travel through.
Hours later there was a deliberate crunch in the fallen leaves. I
carefully looked towards the source of the noise. A furry face stared
back. There was a patch of darker fur over his right eye. It didn’t
look familiar so I grunted and kept moving. My tail had arrived and
was likely reporting back on my position through whatever pack mind
wolves possessed. That tidbit wasn’t exactly common knowledge,
but I had friends and enemies in the right places. Julianne had given
me that advice after one of my earliest jobs put me up against a
small pack instead of a lone wolf. My asking around had given him a
heads up.
    Got my ass handed to me. Things evened out in the end. Pack finds out
you’ve gotten them involved in bad debts and some of their more
civic minded members solve the issue.
    My tail, correction, the wolf and his tail were never very far from
sight. His eyes stared unblinking at me nearly every moment of the
journey. I found a stream to drink from. The drink barely reduced
growing hunger pains. Two days without water would have been
detrimental. Two days without food was bearable. Starvation wasn’t
new. There had been hungry days while I traveled.
    “Did the boss give me a time limit?” I asked.
    No yip, no bark or howl. The wolf did manage to tilt his head and
glare. His fur didn’t look familiar to anyone I remembered.
Similar markings ran in a family. Patches here, patterns, colors,
shades. Dog breeders could spot literal family members in a pack with
unerring accuracy. Pack members hated dog breeders as a general rule.
    “No?”
    The wolf sniffed and wandered off, vanishing behind a tree.
    My large dumb self hadn’t thought to bring any food before I
started this little