Feral (Wolf Ranch Book 3) by Renee Rose & Vanessa Vale

Author:Renee Rose & Vanessa Vale [Rose, Renee & Vale, Vanessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-17T18:30:00+00:00

16

ROB

I woke in just as shitty a mood as I’d gone to bed. It had been two days since I discovered Natalie had gone over to Markle’s house with a bottle of wine, I’d had to shift and run off my aggression on the mountain. I’d never been possessive of a woman before, but the pendulum swung the other way now. I was obsessed with her to the point of insanity, with moon madness tearing at me. She was my mate. What the fuck was she doing with Markle? He’d put his cattle on Natalie’s land. Big deal. He’d even shot one of the pack. James had healed. But I wasn’t going to recover if my mate ended up choosing Jett Markle over me.

I’d pushed myself hard, my wolf trying to burn off some of the anger, running until my paws ached, then crashed in my bed long after midnight. Yesterday, I’d thrown myself into work, rearranging all the hay bales in the barn just to keep my body moving. I’d been at it until late, then had gone straight to bed. This morning, I still had enough rage in me to snarl at anything that got in my way.

After showering in the place that reminded me way too fucking much of her, I dressed and stomped down the stairs to the kitchen. The house smelled sweet—Marina must already be up baking.

Damn, it was strange to have a female in the house. And a human, no less.

Because of Marina, Colton was a changed man—relaxed and happier than I’d ever seen him. I found them both in the kitchen. Colton sat at the table drinking coffee and eating a delectable-looking Danish and Marina was pulling a cookie sheet of croissants out of the oven. They both looked up at me as I stalked in and poured myself a cup of coffee.

“Late night?” Colton asked carefully. It was hard for any pack member to ignore his alpha’s mood, and my frustration still simmered.

I just spat it out—no sense in trying to keep it in. “Natalie’s still seeing Markle. She went over there yesterday with a bottle of wine.”

“Oh,” Marina said, eyes wide. She grabbed a plate, piled three different pastries on it and shoved it my way, as if sugar and carbs could make me feel better. “How do you know?”

“I was at her place when she came back, wine bottle in hand.”

Marina tipped her head. She was a tiny thing, a disposition as sweet as her baked goods. Completely opposite from Natalie in every way.

“Empty wine bottle?”

I frowned. “No, unopened.”

“So she didn’t share a bottle of wine with him?”

I rubbed my unshaven face. Fuck, I really was going feral. “Well, no. She said she’d brought it over as a neighborly gesture, but he hadn’t invited her in.”

“So he didn’t invite her in or accept the wine?” Marina clarified. She picked up the spatula and moved the cooling croissants to a platter. “I don’t think that qualifies as seeing the guy. It sounds like, well, a neighborly gesture, like she said.

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