Swiftcurrent Creek new york times bestseller

A stark contrast to the snow that blanketed his home, the shadowrunner stalked along the borders, stopping every so often with a pull of discern to the corner of his lips as he noted just how faded their scent was becoming. The land itself would be too large soon for them to properly defend the territory they had mapped out and claimed as their own—the danger of disbanding almost becoming a welcome idea to the swarthy wolf.

He still went through the motions, though. With three children to still look after as his mate disappeared off into the unknown to look for their missing son, he was loath to assert any more changes on his family and pack. Even if Durnehviir returned with Viinturuth… Their home would never be the same. She had made it very clear if she were to return, it would not be for him, but for her kids.

As abruptly as their whirlwind romance had begun it had just as sharply ended.

His tongue smoothed over his lips, his eyes intense as they scanned ahead of him. There was a shadow of black in the near distance—a wolf. Redirecting his path to quicken his pace, the Mayfair began to lumber toward the visitor, his gaze studying her strange markings. His nose lifted, testing the scent of the female, noting she seemed healthy, in the very least. A prospective joiner? “Hello,” he offered, breaking the silence and halting his form feet from hers.