Chapter seven
Walking around the pines, seeing the new pinecones beginning to grow, I heard the sound of padding feet. It wasn't like the rumble of many paws when there was a hunt, but a muted crunch as two clothed feet hit the ground. I froze, wondering. Hunters were not allowed on our land for their own good as well as the pack's, and the others usually went bare through the forest or at least barefoot. Gripping my knapsack tighter, I peered around for the intruder.
The air suddenly turned powdery and too sweet. My lungs choked, filling with the odor. I began sneezing, eyes tearing till it was difficult to see. My throat closing, I could no longer breathe.
"You know," a familiar voice murmured over my gasping. I tired to look at who it was, but my eyes only swirled with a mixture of pastel colors. "This whole choking thing, it makes it easier to sneak up on you."
Then I could suddenly breathe again, the odor slowly evaporating from the air. It was like it was sucked away by a vacuum. After one, final cough I blinked away the last of my tears and looked at the man in front of me. "Andrés!"
"So I'm remembered," his black eyes showed amusement. "I thought I would receive a welcome involving claws and fang, not—well, skin."
I glowered at him. "You picked a very wrong time to show up, meat-bag. I'm not in the mood and our pack's on high alert for a new scent. Another group is headed this way."
He leaned back against a tree, crossing his arms over his chest. I smelt blood on his shirt. Animal blood. "Oh really? Anyone special?"
"Just a broken clan we might have merge with ours. More jumped up mutts who don't know what's good for them."
Andrés raised dark brows. "That's a very friendly statement. Tell me, what's made you so bitter?"
"Mating season."
That seemed to be the only thing he needed to hear. "Oh, and you're not having any luck." He chuckled when I snarled at him. "Ah, too much luck I suppose."
"I'm the only female." I pulled my knapsack in front of my torso and pulled out the hoodie I had gotten the day of Andrés' and the pack's fight. It was the only thing I owned without holes from roaming paws. Slipping it on, I felt better and less exposed in front of the non-wolf-man. "Well, the only available one. I think some of the guys would have a problem with mating their aunts. I think that's one of the reasons the elders are so willing to have this new pack."
"And a reason why you'd rather they leave?"
I sighed, running a hand through my soaked hair as a nervous habit. "Either way, I'm going to have to pick one of them. If all goes right with these new wolves, I might just leave. I miss Riga and school. The woods are great, but this is as developed as my life is going to get other than having pups. I don't even know if I want that."
"Perhaps it's one of those maternal things. You'll be content after your first—litter?"
"Is this your first time speaking with a wolf?" I asked sharply. "What're you doing here, anyway? I told you not to go in the woods again."
Andrés rubbed his hands on his jeans and I smelt it as blood smeared. Hmmm, fresh white tail. "I was painting," he reached back and pulled a canvas from where it was strapped to his back. Holding it out for me to see, I looked at the new painting of the river. Eight young kids created rivets in the water.
"You idiot!" I stared at him. "You—you can't sell that! We're all naked!"
"Who said I was going to sell it?" he snapped, putting it back into the carrier on his back. His eyes were sharp. "Sometimes I paint just to paint, not to sell. I only let Juhan use the wolf pictures."
A thunder grew in my gut. "I told you not to paint us anymore! I told you not to come here!"
"I didn't…for a while."
I grabbed his wrist, putting enough force that it would break a human. He didn't even flinch. "Show me your other paintings. Tell me what all you've seen."
I glared at him, waiting for his refusal. Andrés smiled, however. "Fine. I'll take you on a walk than, bitch. Show you the gallery."
