Series: Werewolves of Wall Street Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
I release it all with a sob, but I’m not crying over the end of our Seeress’ reign. I’m releasing the negativity and darkness that’s governed this pack for so long.
I stand and rest my hands on my knees, coughing and coughing until I’ve exhaled all of the smoky mist.
When I finally straighten, Catherine’s watching me with wide, frightened eyes.
A mantle of strength settles over me. Oma may still be alive, but my moon is rising.
I will be the new Seeress. And I know exactly what must be done. I take Catherine’s arm and lead her out of the room.
“Your son is in grave danger.” My voice has the echoey timbre of the new pack Seeress.
She gasps, turning pale.
“He is not free of the moon madness. The infection crawls beneath his skin. It will return if you cannot repair the wound of his father’s death.”
“What? How?”
Her phone rings, but she doesn’t move, still staring at me. As it goes on ringing, I point. “That is his mate calling. She needs your help.”
Chapter Eight
Brick
“Just fuck one and see,” Vance says. He’s talking to Nickel, but my wolf bristles like I’m being told to cheat on our mate. As if I’d be tempted by any other wolf when I have Madison.
“That’s Vance’s solution to everything,” Jake says. We’re standing in the hotel lobby, waiting for our ride to the site of the Swedish Pack Games.
This trip is torture. Every second away from Madison, I grow more grouchy and more on edge. I barely speak. Eat little. Bare my teeth at my friends for harmless jokes.
“I hear there are a handful of new female wolves in attendance.” Nickel faces the glorious view showcased by the hotel windows. There are mountains in the distance, and in the foreground, pine trees bow under the weight of the snow. “But we can always sod off and go heli-skiing.”
“Heli-skiing? Like, jump out of a helicopter with your skis on? The resort has that?”
“They must. I heard a helicopter go by a few minutes ago.”
Their voices fade into the background. My wolf is growling, a constant low rumble in my chest. I need to get him under control before we’re in front of the other packs.
“Car’s here,” Vance says, and I lead my wolves towards the front door. The place is full of shifters. Representatives from packs all over the world mill around, putting my wolf on edge even more. Mostly European–Spanish, Italian, German, French–but there are a few wolves from a Brazilian pack climbing into a big white van ahead of our SUV. They’re dressed like they’re ready for an Arctic adventure in puffers of bright yellow and green.
I wear my baleful expression like a concrete mask. My wolf is still on edge, and everything feels like a threat.
I’m about to hop in the front seat when a familiar voice calls, “Brick!” A strawberry blonde in a bright pink ski outfit bounces up to us, her eyes sparkling.
My baby sister, Scarlett, who I haven’t seen since last summer.
She’s fresh-faced and glowing, as beautiful as a supermodel on a runway. Head after head turns to watch her pass. I snarl, showing my fangs, and they all look away.
She skids to a stop in front of me, arms thrown out for a hug.
“Where have you been?” I snap. “I don’t like you hanging out here unescorted.”
“Geez.” She catches me glowering at a nearby wolf–a Norwegian, judging from his big Viking-esque beard. “Easy, big bro. Protective much?”
“Scarlett.” Nickel motions for her to tone it down. She stops, notices my amber eyes, and sobers.
She knows nothing about Madi or the moon madness. I don’t want her caught up in New York politics while she’s over here in school. My own college experience was ruined by pack politics. I don’t want hers to be, too.
“Excuse me, Alpha,” she says in a more respectful tone. “I had a project I was working on with a professor for a grant deadline. I got in late last night.”
“All right.” I force myself to calm down and pull her into my arms for a short hug. My wolf wants to tear apart every male wolf who’s sniffing her scent, even though she’s old enough to mate, and that is the whole purpose of the pack games. “It’s good to see you. And yes, baby sister, I’m protective as hell.” Especially since she has no father to act as her guardian.
“Understandable.” She pulls away, still grinning. “Hey everybody.” She exchanges hugs or fist bumps with everyone, including Billy, who’s lurking a few feet behind us. She gives him an extra pat, as if to comfort him. The past few weeks have carved grooves of tension deep into his forehead and around his eyes. He looks older, tired.
“So what’s the deal?” Scarlett asks, her mood bubbly as pink champagne. “This is my first time at the games.”