Chapter One
"That's a dead rat." The bouncer said as he snatched the greasy paper bag from my hands. His nose wrinkled in disgust.
I met his eyes. "Yep."
"You can't bring in outdoor food." He chuckled.
"Very funny."
He chuckled to himself. "I like to think so."
"I'm here to see the Alpha." I tapped my foot, reaching for the paper bag.
"Do you plan on giving him the rat?" the bouncer frowned.
"Just give me the damn bag." I snarled.
"Fine, Karen ." He added the final word under his breath as I snatched the paper bag from his hand.
"It's Mallory, not Karen ."
"Sure." The bouncer rolled his eyes. "Dean's in his office. Wait at the bar; I'll tell him you're coming."
I didn't thank him. Instead, I growled under my breath as I marched past the behemoth. His hand snapped out, cupping my bicep to stop me from walking past.
"What is that smell?" His nostrils flared, and his watery eyes wrinkled in disgust. He was a wolf. I could smell it on his skin.
"Lotion?" I quipped. "Or the dead rat? You choose."
I couldn't lie, but didn't always have to tell the truth.
The bouncer released my arm, holding his hands up in surrender. "You just smell weird, that's all."
I narrowed my eyes. "That's not a nice thing to say to a lady."
The bouncer rolled his eyes and waved me through. "Do us all a favor and have something to drink. It might help you relax."
I didn't need to relax.
What I needed was to spend the damn coin burning a hole in my pocket.
I nursed a diet coke for over an hour and sat on a stool at the end of the bar as I waited for the Alpha of the Locket pack to gift me his presence.
I'd hoped that curiosity would force his hand, but it was clear that I was being humored. Dean Hart had no intention of seeing me.
Desperate times called for desperate measures.
I reached into my purse and pulled out a single wooden coin. A gift from my grandmother, passed down until needed.
Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't have been caught dead in a Harley bar like The Chug. Primarily because of the concentration of werewolves with their sensitive noses, but mainly because of the sticky floors. If Joel knew I'd come, he would have dragged me out by my ear—pending divorce or not.
The bartender drifted over and took the glass when my drink got low. I held up the wooden coin before she asked if I wanted another.
"I'm waiting for Dean." I declared. "The bouncer said he was in his office?"
The bartender's eyes flicked from the coin to my face. Irritation flashed across her previously stoic face. "Doug didn't tell me you had a token." Her lip curled, and I wasn't sure if she was annoyed at me or Doug the bouncer. She held up a finger, jabbing it in my direction. "Wait here." She demanded before turning on her heel and disappearing.
The staff door opened, revealing a man with shaggy black hair and a scar across his left cheek. He jerked his chin, gesturing for me to follow. I slid off the stool, my paper bag in hand.
My escort wore a leather jacket without sleeves, with the Hounds emblem sewn onto the back—the patch large enough to spread shoulder to shoulder. Everyone in Locket knew the Hounds, just like any sane person knew not to come to the Chug on a Friday night.
"Show me the coin." My escort grumbled.
I unfurled my fingers, holding up the token. I tried not to look into his eyes. He smelled like leather and freshly cut grass. I sensed his wolf under the surface, pressed against his skin, longing to come out. I'd never met a scarred wolf; my grandmother always told me wolves healed too quickly for that. Either the injury had been too horrific to heal all the way, or someone had used a silver blade.
"You're Mallory McGowen." The man cocked his head to the side.
"Mallory Hunt." I corrected, looking up before I realized my mistake.
My grandmother's voice echoed through my skull. ‘Don't look a wolf in the eye. They view it as a challenge .'
I flinched, cursing my mistake, though the wolf didn't notice as he studied my face with amusement.
"Mitchell Wright." The scarred wolf's lip twitched. "What brings you to the Chug? We don't get a lot of your kind here."
"My kind?" My voice could have frozen water.
"Sídhe." He shrugged. "Come looking for something wild?"
I clutched the paper bag to my chest. "I'm here to see Dean."
"Sure thing, Doll." The wolf smirked, reaching for the handle of the nearest door in the hallway and gesturing for me to walk through.
I gave him a long look, which he matched. Before I lowered my eyes again. The scar was silver, faded with time, though the edges were puckered from the top of his left eye to his top lip. His left eyelid was slightly open, and only a tiny slice of muscle was visible underneath.
"You think I should get an eyepatch, Doll?" The wolf's smirking mouth twitched. "Maybe a parrot to complete the look?"
I scoffed. "I think you should move out of my way so I can walk through the door."
"So brave." He crooned. "But your cop husband isn't here."
I didn't have a husband. Not anymore.
"Mitchell, let her in." An amused voice echoed through the open door.
I tripped over the threshold, righting myself, though my cheeks warmed with embarrassment. I wiped my hand down the front of my flowery blouse, straightening wrinkles that didn't exist. I held my head high as I tried to remember all the rules my grandmother Eva had taught me.
Don't look wolves in the eye.
Don't issue challenges.
They admire bravery, but don't be foolish .
I shook my head to clear it and placed a benign smile on my face as I strode into the office.
The Chug was a motorcycle bar. Peeled paint, beer posters, and sticky floors. The Alpha's office was surprisingly clean. The desk boasted a brand-new Apple computer, and the walls were painted a delicate peach without a single crack. The air smelled faintly of jasmine, with a heavy musk underpinning every breath—the smell of an Alpha wolf.
My grandmother had always told me to stay as far away from the Wolfkin as possible. So I had never met Dean Hart before, though I knew him by reputation.
I'd had no intention of ever meeting the local wolf pack, but fate had other plans.
I'd woken up this morning to find the wooden coin in my pocket, though I hadn't put it there.
It was time.
"You're fae. Sídhe, not Wild." Dean Hart's voice was accusing. Angry. The sharp tone immediately made me look up, though I'd told myself I wouldn't look in his eyes. I inhaled sharply as the most giant man I'd ever met sat behind the desk. His hair was shorn close to his skull, at odds with the feminine features and perfectly symmetrical face that belonged on a male model instead of an almost seven-foot man with more muscles than a bodybuilder.
The bravado I'd been riding dissolved.
My mouth dried. I tried to speak but had to clear my throat. "Half." I croaked.
I didn't ask how he knew. Dean Hart must have been older than he looked.
"Doug said you have a wooden coin." He knitted his fingers together, leaning forward.
I didn't say anything.
The Alpha's eyes flicked over my shoulder. "Leave us, Mitchell." He said softly. "Close the door, please."
I didn't take my eyes away from the Alpha's face as the door closed behind me, leaving us alone.
I lifted the paper bag.
"Take out?" The Alpha quirked a brow.
"Dead rat," I said, dropping the bag on his desk.
"I can smell it." Dean Hart pressed his lips together. "I can't bring a pet back to life. If that was the boon you needed."
I shook my head, no longer in a joking mood. I sank into the chair opposite Dean Hart's desk, and it was as if the weight of the past month all fell onto my shoulders. My hands began to shake, and I clenched my fists, tucking them under my thighs.
"My husband... My ex-husband." I clarified. "I need protection."
The wolf's gaze sharpened. "Deputy McGowen."
"Yeah." My voice was thick. "He left the dead rat on my car. You can... Smell him on it."
He didn't ask how I knew; instead, Dean reached for the bag, tearing the sides until the rat lay on the middle of a makeshift paper bag plate. Its neck was bent, and its mouth bloody.
He leaned forward, sniffing the tiny creature before nodding appraisingly.
I reached into my purse, pulling out the wooden coin once more. I placed it on the desk.
"My grandmother Eva said the Beast-King gave her this token." I looked down at the wooden coin on the desk. "She told me to only use it in a case of life or death. She said to present the coin to the Alpha of any wolf pack, and they would know what it means."
"You think this is a case of life and death?" Dean's eyes softened.
"Yes."
I didn't stay for another drink once Dean Hart assured me he took my protection seriously.
I hoped that a pack of werewolves would be enough to dissuade my ex-husband from fucking with me, though I wasn't quite sure.
I was almost home, navigating the familiar mountain roads, when the flash of red and blue lit up my mirrors, and the chirp of a siren told me to pull over.
My hands gripped the steering wheel, and my stomach flip-flopped as I put my hazard lights on and pulled over.
I didn't own a gun, and even if I did, pulling a weapon on a police officer was never a good idea. Even if that officer was my soon-to-be ex-husband.
I took a deep, shaky breath, staring straight ahead. The edge of the road was lit up by my headlights, revealing the forest and the sharp drop at the edge of the barrier.
As the officer approached, bending down to knock on my window, my life flashed before my eyes. The moment I saw the female figure, I loosened the breath trapped in my throat.
"Hello, Officer."
"Mrs McGowen." The female police officer dipped her head.
"It's just Hunt now. Mallory Hunt." I told her. "Or it will be. Soon."
She nodded in understanding. "We had a report come in that you'd been drinking at a bar and chose to drive."
My nostrils flared. "A report?"
"Were you at a bar this evening, ma'am?" The officer ignored my question.
"I—" I mashed my lips together. "I went to The Chug after work."
How did Joel know? Was he following me?
"I'm going to issue a field sobriety test. Could you step out of the car, ma'am?"