Free Hunting Wolf: Black Mesa Wolves #3 by J.K. Harper

on the ground, body trembling from the desire to rip and maim and tear. He knew he would have stopped just short of actually touching the rogue. His father's word still held. But for a second there, he couldn't stop himself from the lunge itself. Hot blood dripping from his mouth....
    No killing. Rafe will make him tell us what he knows, his human whispered. Even so, agitation and barely restrained rage underscored the words.
    He growled.
    “Caleb,” Rafe said. “Enough. I want to take down one particular rogue myself,” he said in grim tones. Caleb knew his brother was thinking of the large speckled wolf who had threatened Sara. “But there is a proper way to do this. We adhere to Pack law. Always.”
    Tense silence held the wolves as Caleb struggled to control himself. The steel-grey rogue didn't move, either, although a defensive snarl still curled his lips back over his sharp teeth in pure instinctual reaction.
    Caleb let the scents of the mountain fill his nose. Tender grass shoots, the sweetness of wildflowers, a patch of blackberries not far off. Pines gave off their earthy scent touched with a hint of what humans called vanilla. The rough stink of a bear danced on the edges of the light breeze before being whirled away on the currents.
    And stabbed through all that were the fading scents of three rogues who had killed a young wolf pack member, thereby bringing their own death sentences down on themselves.
    Caleb growled again. Rafe shook him by the nape of his neck, jaws lightly closed on the fur there.
    “Trying.” Caleb spat out the word, keeping himself motionless beneath his brother's weight. “Make him talk.”
    Rafe whuffed out a rush of air and released his hold on Caleb's neck. Very carefully, he backed off maybe an inch. “Don't be stupid,” he said.
    Caleb jerked his head in a nod.
    “Okay, Luke,” Rafe said, swinging his large golden head toward the rogue. “You do know exactly to whom at least some of these scents belong, don't you?”
    Luke's mouth still curled up in disdain, but he managed a curt dip of his own head.
    Rafe sighed. “Let's hear it. You can't be an Alpha without protecting all wolves in the nearby packs by sharing your knowledge. And you still truly want to be Alpha of your own pack, correct? Sanctioned by the council?”
    A brief hesitation. Tate sat on his haunches, mindful of Rafe's authority but staring at Luke with an air that suggested he, too, might be interested in a fight. Caleb smiled grimly to himself as he watched the rogue bastard's body language very closely. It seemed the rogue battled with himself over something. Ultimately, though, his preference was clear.
    “That is what I have fought for my entire life. Yes.” The rogue's voice came out in part growl, part whine of tremendous frustration and still a bit of sorrow. “They are all from my old pack. One scent belongs to one of the three who attacked you and Sara earlier this year.”
    Rafe's eyes seemed to darken at this. Caleb remembered his brother's anguish after the attack, upset he'd been so unfocused and left Sara so vulnerable. If anything like that ever happened to Rielle...
    Why do I keep thinking about Rielle? his human muttered.
    Caleb whuffed. Because she is mine. He ignored his human's incomprehensible retort and directed his attention back to the rogue.
    “And one of them is....”
    “Is what?” Rafe urged as the rogue trailed off.
    Another unhappy small whine escaped Luke, although the snarl still roughed his lips. Caleb forced his breathing to keep steady as they all waited for the answer in the clear mountain air.
    “One of them is my brother.”
     
    ~
     
    “I can't believe I'm crying. I don't even know why I'm crying. No, I do know. What is happening?” Rielle gasped out the last words between the sobs threatening to erupt at full volume.
    Otsana continued to stroke her hand with the seemingly absent-minded attention of a mother to a distressed cub, but Rielle saw the thoughtful