There was disruption at the borders—it was hard to miss, as the echo of voices seemed to echo across the rapid creek water, but the swarthy wolf could not make out the words spoken. He was about to intercept when the doling song of Shaara beckoned him.
He paused, his own muzzle tipping up to elicit a short howl back to her, affirming he would be to her soon.
As he neared, he wished he had gone to the borders instead. He had caught her scent before and her heat, but he had remained by Durnehviir’s side primarily, also while dealing with the black wolf that was keen on skirting away with the Creek’s women—or, at least his best friend. He didn’t know how to feel about it—he didn’t know how to feel about any of it, given he had likely just impregnated his ex-mate.
He steadied himself as her scent became heavier, and soon the grey frosted she-wolf was in front of him, looking absolutely livid. “Shaara,” he greeted, his tone a deep rumble as a frown knitted his brows. “What’s going on at the borders? What’s wrong?” And he dared move closer to her, his fiery eyes scouring over her, investigating her for any injuries or attack upon her.
She looked away from his searching gaze—mumbling something about a mistake, and he drew closer, his eyes tracing over her, finding nothing of note physically. Unassuming in most ways, the regal did not consider his presence upon her frustrations and need, and when she finally erupted at what had transpired at the borders, the Mayfair found himself uncertain what to do with the heated insistence of her voice.
“She offered herself to him…?” He trailed off, trying to compose the surprise on his features as he considered the gentle giant that was his co-lead.
Whatever had transpired, it was enough to ruffle Shaara’s emotions—the words she chose were wrought by frustration and anger, he assumed, and he chuffed out a soft sigh at her reference to them as leeches. “Who are the harlots?” If there was breeding behind his back—without the permission from one of the leaders—he sure as hell wanted to hear of it. Their surprise litter from last year and Chusi was not an event he wished to repeat.
“Leeches like who, Shaara? If you mean Kavik, and his pack mates, I think they’ve been pulling their weight pretty well.”