An owl hooted somewhere nearby. He could smell various dens, the stench of animals permeating his nose. While in his wolf form, he was able to experience thousands of various things that his human self simply couldn’t comprehend. Brennan bent down, sniffing the damp grass beneath his paws. The leaves were old, slowly turning to mulch against the soft earth.

He lifted his head, slowly studying the night sky through the thick canopy of trees. Brennan sighed, continuing his solo walk. The rest of the Freeridge pack was probably asleep, besides maybe Reuben. The alpha hardly ever slept, instead spending his nights watching over the rest of the wolves. Brennan was worried for his friend, but some things even Reuben wouldn’t listen to him on.

With a heavier heart, he continued his journey. The night was peaceful. People were hardly about at this time, which meant that Brennan didn’t have to worry about humans finding him. While it wouldn’t always be a negative experience, most of them panicked at seeing a large wolf with auburn fur. They weren’t exactly common within this part of America.

Brennan slowly stepped up onto a large rock, looking down at a pathway that travelled further down the hill. He shifted, feeling the urge to howl at the moon. Just as he started to lift his head, a scent hit his nose. Something akin to fresh rainwater and mint. A strange combination, but so strong and captivating that Brennan couldn’t help but turn, immediately heading to find the source of that smell.

As Brennan crested over a small mound of dirt, he saw the source of the scent. A human. Not always a bad thing, but it was the tactical gear they carried that concerned him. A hunter. Brennan flattened his ears, crouching down low. This wasn’t what he expected.

His fated mate, a werewolf hunter. Just his luck.