Emmaline should be here. That was my constant thought as I ran with my pack under the full moon.
An hour after we began, Derric scented a buck and our run soon became a hunting party. Five of us took down the prey, but it was Sawyer who gave the killing strike to the windpipe. Once the buck lay dead, our pack howled a song of victory. Sawyer would take the biggest share of the meat and present it to his pregnant mate, proving himself a capable provider and protector.
I wasn’t normally an envious wolf. That kind of bitterness wasn’t my style, but I found Sawyer’s happy howls and barks grating to my ears. His playful roughhousing with our packmates to burn off his remaining adrenaline seemed childish and obnoxious to me.
Any other time, I’d be proud of him. Our lone, prickly enforcer, a brother to me, had become a family man. He was settled, content. In love with his mate and excited for his pup to arrive.
It was only because my mate wasn’t at my side, because I had to leave her soft bed and warm body to be here, that I had these ugly, bitter thoughts. The human side of me knew that. But my wolf was a creature of instinct, not reason, and he wouldn’t stop sulking.
We left her alone just before the moon’s full strength without a bite, even though she begged us for it, he kept reminding me. We did not give our mate what she needed. We failed her.
There will be another full moon. She needs time to understand what we are. I tried to soothe him, but my animal was not having it.
If she hasn’t moved on to another male already, my wolf huffed. A male who will not deceive her, who will treat her exactly as she deserves.
My wolf wasn’t wrong about that. Emmaline did deserve better than someone who lied about who he was and left her bed in the middle of the night. But when the moon was full, and the shift therefore yanked out of my control, how would she feel about the man in her bed turning into a huge, four-legged predator?
