Page 56 of Enemy Wolf
Derric let out a short, sharp whistle, a signal for us to get ready to shift, which also caught the dragon’s attention. The reptile broke eye contact with me to meet the alpha’s gaze with a relaxed unhurriedness. Like we were the ones inconveniencing him.
“All of Howling Death come to see me? What an honor,” the dragon drawled.
“I suggest you stop talking,” Derric barked.
The dragon made a show of zipping his lips with his long, black claws. My wolf’s hackles rose, personally insulted by the arrogance of this male.
“Normally, I’d give you one chance to return to your own territory, provided that you never set foot in Vargmore again,” the alpha said. “But from what I understand, this is at least your third time trespassing into our home. The first two times, you threatened and injured one of our civilians. Is that not correct?”
“Ahhh.” The dragon rolled his orange eyes toward me again, settling over my shoulder. “The little witch went off and tattled after all. Such a shame. I thought she was one to honor agreements.”
My fist squeezed so hard, it rolled the throttle and pulled a roar from my engine. “You don’t say a word about her,” I growled. “You don’t even look at her.”
The dragon clicked his tongue, amused. “Protective are we, Orson?” He folded his arms in front of him, grinning widely. “Did my deal with the witch conjure up a little romance? How lucky for you.”
“Don’t say my name. You don’t know me.” My wolf was moments away from leaping out of my skin, ready to jump over the handlebars and all the wolves and bikes ahead of me to get at this reptilian pest.
“Typical half-breed. Always rewriting history to whichever side suits you.” The dragon placed his hands on his hips and looked around. “Does your wolf pack know? How about your little witch?”
“Know what?” Shiloh whispered behind me.
“Nothing,” I bit out.
“Why did he call you a half-breed?” she pressed. “Is that even…”
“Oh, it’s more than possible. It happened all the time before the species of Shyftworld separated themselves into neat little territories.” The dragon grinned, smug and satisfied at his captive audience. “Orson never told you all he was born in Shadowburn Cliffs? Spent the early years of his life there. He would’ve stayed if only he had sprouted wings and scales instead of fur and paws.”
“So what?” I shouted, feeling like my chest was being crushed while grabbing desperately for a handhold on the edge of a cliff. “I’m a wolf, not a dragon. I’m nothing like you.”
“Ah, but you’ve still got some dragon in you. Ever look in the mirror?” He pointed his two forefingers at his own eyes; bright, fiery orange with slitted pupils. “Those are the eyes of the ice dragons, our ancestors. No matter how much you try to deny your own heritage, Orson, you know for a fact that no werewolf has ever sported peepers like yours.”
My teeth ground so hard, I was certain I would break my own jaw. “I’m no. Fucking. Dragon.”
He sighed, shoulders drooping like he pitied me. “I can see why you believed that. Especially with how our father kicked you to the curb the moment you displayed wolf traits. How he always favored me as the golden child over you.”
Shiloh’s hands jerked in her hold on my waist. “Did he say our…?”
“Yes, my dear. An astute observation.” The dragon’s eyes lit up as they landed on her again. “Orson and I are brothers.”
“Half-brothers,” I corrected. “Because your father decided to abuse a she-wolf.”
“Eh, semantics. You and I are still family.”
“We are not!” I snarled.
“Enough of this!” Derric raised a hand in the air. “None of this backstory fucking matters—”
“Actually, it does,” the dragon interrupted. “This is very important for you to hear, Alpha. You might want to think twice about letting half-breeds into your pack.” He paused just long enough for me to wonder what he was getting at. “It was actually my dear brother’s idea to make the witch do some magic for us.”
“What?” Shiloh whispered the word but it was a roar in my ears. Her hands pulled away from my waist, and that small motion felt like our last tenuous connection had been severed.
“Don’t believe his lies. You know you can’t trust him.” I hated to sound so damn desperate, even though I was.
“I’m not lying!” Again with that snakelike grin. “How would Orson know where to find the silver deadnettle if he didn’t have eyes in the sky?”
Oh, this sneaky fucker. He saw the distance between Shiloh and I, then proceeded to wedge his way in there until the gap was as wide as a canyon. With her trust in me so freshly shaken, it wouldn’t take much to put even more doubts in her mind.
Who knew how much he saw through that mark he left on her? Or because he’d been stalking us through the mountains.