When a Pack Dies Read Online Free Page A

moments like this—when Ryan’s exuberance surfaced and Fina’s rose to meet his. There were some moments when they emerged from their pain, anger, loneliness and vapidness...some but not many.
    They’d been on the road over two weeks now, moving in random patterns and sometimes circling back for a day or two...but always, gradually, moving further and further west. Something about that direction still pulled at Fina and she’d stopped wondering why.
    “Let’s find a motel early today, Fina,” Ryan begged after he’d tired of the swing. It was just before noon and they’d pulled into a rustic, roadside café to eat. It had a big parking lot—even though it was on a road made almost redundant by a nearby interstate—shaded picnic tables and a large, children’s play area. Ryan wove his hands into Fina’s, held on tight and let her lift him and flip him in a complete circle until he landed back on his feet with his arms stretched taut behind him. He leaned forward and squealed happily, trusting his weight to Fina’s slender arms before hopping, letting go and standing up.
    He ran toward the café entrance and the promise of lunch. Fina raced after him, grabbed him, swung him into the air and when his striped t-shirt lifted up, blew a raspberry kiss into his exposed belly. Ryan giggled wildly and pushed her head away. By now they were both sweating a little and they ran into the restaurant’s air-conditioned foyer.
    “Let’s find one with a pool again and can we stay two nights can we please, please, Fina?” Ryan pleaded.
    Grinning, Fina opened her mouth to say yes then stood up very straight. The air in the café was full of the delicious smells of fried chicken and baking but beneath that was the unmistakable smell of wolf. Her hand shot out, reaching for Ryan and she started backing up toward the door. They’d traveled through a few communities with werewolf populations. It would have been almost impossible not to. They hadn’t stopped in any of them and she always made sure the gas tank never got below half full so they wouldn’t be forced to stop anywhere she wasn’t comfortable. During the past two weeks, Fina’s ability to think rationally had improved from the near catatonia she’d experienced immediately following the death of her pack. She’d rationalized that, as a female about to enter her prime breeding years, she wasn’t likely to be chased off by another pack. Maybe she’d even be invited to join. She couldn’t be absolutely certain of Ryan’s welcome. Even though he was a child, he was male. Packs usually didn’t accept outside males.
    The door behind her swung open and a man walked in. He was big—huge—stood at least six-two and had a chest wide enough to qualify for two zip codes with shoulders to match. The flat stomach and lean hips that sat above and below his thick gun belt told Fina that every impressive inch of him was solid muscle, not flab. He looked to be in his late twenties, wore a dark police uniform and scented like a werewolf with a streak of badass that went bone deep.
    Fina caught a whiff of urine and one look told her that Ryan was staring up at the man in terror, pushing flat against the wall like he was trying to back right through it to get outside. A dark stain spread across the front of his shorts and a thin stream of urine was sliding down his leg and puddling around his sneaker.
    “Oh poor poppet.”
    Fina’s head spun around to a fifty-something woman walking into the foyer from the café. She was dressed in an unflattering and rather silly looking alpine-style dress with an apron tied around her generous waist. She clucked her tongue gently, looked down at Ryan with gentle eyes and held out a slightly wrinkled, pudgy hand to him.
    “Don’t worry about a thing, little honey,” the woman cooed gently. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
    Fina’s wolf jumped to the fore when the woman stepped between her and Ryan. The wolf in her shoved the woman back