Swiftcurrent Creek I can't escape this now, unless you show me how.

He had never thought it before, but he felt it now with every fiber of his being—he hated this season. Tensions were higher, the she-wolves of the creek becoming distant and unapproachable at times—though he had no idea what he would do when any one of them came into heat.

There were no longer any mates within their ranks, and as such, there was not promise of a healthy litter to be born within the pack. It was fewer mouths to feed, but the shadowrunner could not see it for anything else than what it was. A failure. Puppies were essential to the pack's well-being, from encouraging the pack to work even more as one solid unit to growing their ranks from within.

Of course, as he inhaled the cold wind that pressed against his nose, it practically pulled him in the direction his ex-mate—a presence he had avoided since her return, mostly.

It hurt. It was more than the temptation and need to claim her as his own. It was the figurative punch to his gut that she was no longer his, and hadn’t trusted him to be hers.

His tongue smoothed across his lips, his form stalking closer to her, finding her in the hollow. His eyes were intense upon her, and he felt a rumbling growl suppressed in his broad chest.

He paused then, feeling the tension coil in his stomach, his eyes still appreciative of her beauty as he swallowed thickly. “I won’t deny you breeding rights, Durnehviir. You wanted to raise a family in these lands… I would never deny you that.”

And darkly, his mind considered who it might be she might choose to do so with. Kavik, perhaps? Strong and able, the man’s mate was missing, and while he ached for her, he was in his right now to claim his new life with a new meaning to it.