Loved by Wolves (Bloodline Book 3) by Rhea Watson

Author:Rhea Watson [Watson, Rhea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-08-18T16:00:00+00:00

11

Lucian

This god’s trail was obvious.

Far too obvious, his contradictory scent smeared all over the place.

Purposeful too, his path out of the village through the mountain slopes and into the western woods clear as fucking neon blazing in the darkness.

Like he wanted to be followed.

Like he wanted to be hunted.

And I was more than happy to oblige.

While a little shaky and sporadic in the village itself, humanity tainting my quarry’s footsteps, as soon as I left it behind, things were so much clearer. With Ewan on his way home to connect with the others, I followed this unwelcome creature into the wilds, ditching my clothes along the way until I was pure wolf, nose to the ground, to the sky, to the trees he seemed to rub his whole fucking body against like he was quite happy to stay on a predator’s radar.

Thus far, I hadn’t given my enemy’s species a second thought. He could be a titan for all I cared—or Lady Fate herself. If something was a threat to my mate, tracking her from a dead goddess’s dream world into reality, he needed to be gone—immediately. This was a pack issue, certainly, but if I could bully some trickster out of the territory before things turned violent, I’d take that as a hard-earned victory.

So, I followed his scent into the wilderness, the pine, sea salt, and sweetness a combination that turned my stomach.

No idea why he was here, but clearly Lyssa’s new powers attracted unwanted attention, and this Loki villain wasn’t the first to come sniffing around her.

Probably wouldn’t be the last either.

And if it scared her, if it was something Lyssa didn’t feel she could handle despite her growing strengths, then it was time for her mates to step in and get the job done.

As a team.

In theory.

That was how it was supposed to be after the bonfire, yet here I was traipsing through the western woods alone, old habits refusing to just bloody well die already.

Once the god was dispatched with, I’d refocus on the other threat nosing at our girl: Ethan Perry.

The fact that he liked to sniff at her, poke and prod and ask question after question after question without her mates around if he could swing it—my hackles were perpetually up in his presence. Just the thought of him, the mention of his name, triggered the wolf in me, though I struggled to discern if it was because this warlock, Ewan’s friend, was a legitimate concern or if my baggage still colored the world.

Or was it the third alternative: we alphas simply loathed the thought of another male spending so much time with our forever girl.

Our divine she-wolf.

After all, her magic never triggered me—not like the warlock did.

Yet his mousy little witch wife rarely set me off either, which was telling.

Nose to the ground, I slowed at yet another clear set of footprints in the forest floor courtesy of massive boots ground into the rock-hard dirt, Redwood Grove blanketed in snow and ice and frozen grass.

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