The rawboned man shrugged, making his crudely stitched-together cape of furs rustle. "Didn't know she was a werewolf, too. Not until I was right between you."
"But you knew I was."
The man nodded his head. "Yes. It's that smell, it calls to me." He shrugged. "I've lived alone for all these years, but it's harder now."
"Wolves need packs," Charles told him. It had never bothered him to need other wolves, but there were some wolves who never adjusted to it.
"If you'd like," he told Walter, "you can come home with us."
The man stilled, his eyes still on his feet, but every other part of him focused on Charles. "I'm not good around people, around noise," he said. "I still...here it doesn't matter if sometimes I forget it's forest and not the jungle."
"Oh, you'll fit right in," said Anna dryly.
Walter jerked his gaze to her face, and she smiled warmly at him, so Charles got to watch the man's ears turn red.
"Charles's father's pack has a lot of people who don't quite fit in," she told him.
"My father's pack is safe," said Charles. "He makes it so. But Anna is right, he has more than a few wolves who would not be able to live elsewhere. If you want to move to another pack after a while, he'll find somewhere that you feel welcomed. If you can't handle it, you can come back here as a lone wolf-after we take care of the witch and her pet werewolf."
Walter glanced up and away. "Witch?"
"Welcome to our world." Anna sighed. "Witches, werewolves, and things that go bump in the night."
"So what are you going to do with her?"
"The witch told us she was looking for Asil, who is a very old wolf who belongs to my father. So we thought we'd get out of these mountains, then we'll have a long talk with Asil," Charles told him.
"And in the meantime?" Walter rubbed his fingers over his forearm, where his knife once more lay sheathed under his clothing.
"You need to come and meet with my father," Charles told him. "If you don't, he'll send me out to take you in, willingly or no."
"You think you can force me to come with you to your father's pack?" The man's voice was low and deadly.
"Oh, that was well done," Anna snapped, obviously upset with him, though Charles didn't know what he'd done wrong. His father would not tolerate a rogue so close to his pack, and he wouldn't agree to name Walter a lone wolf unless he met him for himself.
But Anna had already turned her attention to Walter. "What do you want to do? Stay up here all alone? Or come down with us when we go to get a little help-and come back here again to deal with the rogue and her witch?"
Charles raised an eyebrow at her, and she raised hers back. "That wolf harmed him. We're here on pack business-for Walter this is personal." She looked back at the other man. "Isn't it?"
"Evil must be destroyed," he said. "Or it takes over everything it touches."
She nodded, as if he made perfect sense. "Exactly."
* * * *
They were going to sleep as wolves tonight, Charles declared. Anna didn't object, even though her stomach tightened at the thought.
She'd been growing used to sleeping with Charles, but another wolf made her nervous, no matter how deferentially he treated her. But as soon as the sun went down, the temperature dropped another ten degrees. With only one sleeping bag, she knew that Charles was right, and there was no choice.
She changed a hundred yards from the males, shivering barefooted in the snow-where she'd moved after first trying the bare ground under a big fir tree-whoever called them needles knew what they were talking about.
The cold made the pain of change worse and stars dance in her vision. She tried to gasp quietly, tears leaking down her cheeks as her joints and bones rearranged themselves and restretched her flesh over them, and her skin split to become fur.
It took a long, long time.
Afterward, she lay panting and miserable on the ice-crystal-covered snow, too tired to move. Even cold, she discovered, had a smell.
Gradually, as her misery faded, she realized that for the first time since last night, when Charles had curled around her and surrounded her with his warmth, she felt toasty-warm. As the initial agony faded to aches and pains, she stretched, making her claws expand and lengthen like a big cat's. Her back popped and crackled all the way down her spine.
She didn't want to go back and curl up with a strange male only feet away. The wolf wasn't afraid of the male. She knew he wasn't likely to behave like the Others. But she didn't much like the idea of touching anyone other than Charles, either.
Near but out of sight, a wolf, Charles, made a quiet sound, not quite a bark or a whine. Wobbly as a newborn foal, she staggered to her feet. She paused to shake the snow off her pelt and give herself a moment to get used to four paws before starting back, her clothes in her mouth. Charles trotted up to her, then grabbed her glove-stuffed boots and escorted her to their bed for the night.
Walter waited for them just outside their chosen shelter. As soon as she could see him, she knew that she wasn't the only one who wasn't excited about sleeping nose to tail with a stranger. Walter looked miserable, hunched over with his tail carried low.
Charles directed Walter with a flick of his ear to lie down in the shelter he'd found for them. Walter burrowed in, and it was Anna's turn. Charles pushed her after Walter, set her boots where they wouldn't fill with snow, then lay in front of them both where he could protect them. There wasn't a lot of room, even though Walter had tucked himself as close to the trees at their back as he could.
As Anna settled against him, Walter shook with stress. Poor thing, she thought. To have been alone for so long, and then be expected to adjust instantly to pack behavior. His suffering had an odd effect on her own discomfort. Concerned for him, she stretched out and buried her nose in Charles's ruff. She made herself relax, hoping that would help Walter do the same.
This was pack, she thought, as warmth rolled over her from both of the other wolves. Trusting Charles to watch for harm with his better-trained senses. Knowing that both wolves had proven themselves ready to put themselves between her and harm, and it was safe to sleep. This was better, much better than her first pack.
It was a long time before Walter quit imitating a stone statue and relaxed against her more comfortably. But not until he put his nose on her hip with a sigh did she allow herself to drift off to sleep.
Chapter ELEVEN
Pain kept Charles awake while his mate and the rogue slept. His leg and chest were making it quite clear that he'd been pushing too hard. If he wasn't careful, he wasn't going to make it down the mountains. But it was the thought of the witch that kept him alert as the snowstorm wailed around them.