Free Wolf Claim (Wolves of Willow Bend Book 3) by Heather Long

polite despite the violence perfuming them both.
    “Oh yeah.” With his acceptance of the terms, the two men unloaded on each other in a flurry of blows that left Gillian wincing. She’d seen her share of fights and, while they didn’t look like they wanted to kill each other, it was very close. Neither quite landed a full blow to the other’s face, though they both went for it.
    A sound behind her had Gillian whirling, and she found the wolf Dalton had called watching the fight with his arms crossed and an amused smile on his face. “Hi there. You must be Gillian.”
    Grunts. Meaty thwacks of fists slamming into ribs and Gillian flinched with each one. “Hello. I must be, yes.”
    “I’m Marco.” The wolf gave her a sideways look, focusing on her rather than Owen or his Alpha. Lean, dark-skinned and trying to charm based on the lopsided nature of his smile.
    “It’s nice to meet you, Marco.” Another thud followed by the sound of laughter filled the air. Gillian twisted around and found the two wolves shaking hands, before they exchanged a hard, back thumping hug. Owen’s lip was split and blood leaked from his nostril. Dalton’s knuckles were raw and broken. Both looked enormously satisfied. “Are we good now?”
    The undamaged corner of Owen’s mouth curved into a faint smile, and he nodded to her. His attitude mattered more than Dalton’s reply. “We’re good. Now let’s go take a look at the body.” In an instant, Dalton’s blasé mood gave way to the real force of personality and Gillian was impressed.
    He’d stuffed a lot of who he was down. He’d allowed the fight with Owen and she made no mistake—it had been an allowance. All of the testosterone poisoning aside, however, she agreed with him on one point. “Yes, please. I would also like to ask you some questions about the other bodies and that of your healer.” Asking for answers, not demanding them though she had the right was one way to show she respected his authority and felt for his loss.
    Owen beckoned her around the truck, and she followed. At least the wild tension between the two men had dissipated. She caught Owen’s chin with her hand, holding him still with just two fingers because he allowed her. The damage was superficial, and a spark lit his eyes that had been missing since the trip began.
    Satisfied he was well, she let him usher her into the backseat and pretended not to notice when he tugged the Alpha’s jacket off of her and stuffed it down on the floor. Biting the inside of her lip, she glanced at the passenger seat and met a measured amusement underlining the graveness in Dalton’s eyes.
    All at once her humor vanished. Games were all well and good and Owen’s possessiveness soothed her battered ego, but wolves had died.
    “Never stop laughing, little wolf,” Dalton said. As Owen put the truck into gear, she met his gaze in the rearview mirror.
    Folding her arms, she gave them each a small smile, then said, “Tell me, please, what we are going to see when we get there?”
    Like a flipping a switch, the scent from both men darkened. As protective dominants, they couldn’t help it, so she left them alone. “The wolf who died was a student. He’s just finished his first year at university and liked staying some distance from his parents. We saw him a week ago. Nothing was wrong with him.”
    “And today?” Dread curled in her stomach the closer they drew to their destination. Dalton gave the directions and, while they had to follow the roads and make several turns, she recognized the trees as they wound along the opposite side of the woods of the rest stop.
    “Today he simply died.” Dalton’s tone grew clipped. “No warning, no pull. One moment he was there, and the next he was gone.”
    Dalton experiencing the loss didn’t surprise her. Alphas were tied to their pack. Even his packmates would have experienced a feeling of loss. “What about the others?”
    “The other deaths?” He cut a look at