Free Snow Wolf: Wolves of Willow Bend (Book 9) by Heather Long

another one of the shallow pools with water splashing down over the rocks. Some lichen grew along the sides, a distinct green against the grey stone. The water had to drain below, and across from it were more herbs—and the rich smell of moisture, fresh soil, and growth. It was alive and vivid, better than a greenhouse. Her thermals were too warm for their environment.
    “Not all packs live by the old ways, and not all packs live by our ways,” Chowder began as they wound through what had to be private chambers, though the hallway widened into circular areas that reminded her of terraced parks then narrowed to walkways between. Everywhere she looked though, plants were in abundance, including flowers which could serve no other purpose than being beautiful. “Consider,” he continued. “When we are born, our parents name us. These names are important. They define us as our parents see us and sometimes even possess their hopes and dreams. As we age, we earn nicknames…sometimes even before we have any idea of who we are.”
    Her eldest brother had been A.J. for as long as she could remember. No one except their mother used his full name. “My brother calls me Squirt sometimes.” It was an affectionate name.
    Her host gave her a sidelong look. “Because you were smaller than him?”
    “Yes.”
    With a grin, he nodded. “It is much the same here. But, as we grow older, sometimes we change our name to represent who we’ve become. Perhaps a Sentry will seek a stronger name, something intimidating, while an engineer or a teacher may want to be remembered for their task.”
    “So, you chose the name Chowder?” It didn’t matter that she didn’t want to be rude, she couldn’t keep the skepticism from her voice.
    Another soft laugh rumbled from him as he paused in the last circular area— as far from the center as they could go and no pathways led farther. Unlike the other terraced sections, only a stone pool sat in the center. No plants or greenery decorated the surroundings or invited anyone to stay. Frankly the courtyard was rather boring and spartan. She’d hoped for something more elaborate for Diesel’s quarters.
    Then again, she shook off the wishful thinking. The man himself didn’t seem all that much more decked out either. He was strong, gorgeous, old and tough. What else did he need to be?
    “No, I didn’t choose the name.” He put his hand to a similar security plate to the one she’d seen outside then entered a code. “Go ahead and put your palm on there.”
    Obeying more out of curiosity than the need to do as she was told, she raised her eyebrows when the plate turned green.
    “Now you can unlock the door without an escort.” The explanation, so calmly given without an ounce of judgment, worried her more than Diesel telling him to take her to his rooms. How long did they think she was going to be there, that she would earn the right to roam without an escort?
    She was a Hunter of Willow Bend, not a Yukon pack member or mate. Scowling at the idea she’d been granted far more access than she desired or deserved, she couldn’t help a fresh wave of curiosity when the door panel slid inward smoothly.
    Wait… Ranae paused to glance around then back up the tunneled path they followed. Chowder watched her, but if her behavior troubled him he didn’t say so.
    Listening, she could hear nothing but the water, and even that seemed to fade to the background. Along the path, she’d heard a lot of things—the hum of the water pumps, the buzz of the lights, even the faint voices of other occupants inside their stone dwellings. Why nothing here? Because no one came here? Or maybe no one wanted to be here?
    “You were saying about your name,” she prodded him, uneasy with all the reasons why this area was so different. At home, Mason’s house had very quickly become the center of the pack, much as Toman’s great house had been before it. It wasn’t uncommon to drop in on the Alpha and his