Wolfsbane (Howl #3) by Jody Morse, Jayme Morse Page A

shoulders; even though her best friend had seemed pretty convinced so far, Samara had still worried that she was going to doubt her.
    As they approached an old clothing shop, Luke asked, “Do you want to stop and get something warmer to wear?”
    Samara shook her head. “No, I’m fine now. But thanks for thinking about me,” she said, reaching over and squeezing his hand. Luke smiled at her.
    Colby came to an abrupt halt in front of them . “Do you smell that?”
    They all froze in their places behind him , and she heard her pack mates sniffing the air. No one answered him, but she knew that they were all t hinking the same thing she was; there was definitely another werewolf nearb y.
    “I say we change,” Chris whispered. “We’ll be quicker and more intimidating if we come across this other wolf.”
    “Yeah, let’s do that,” Samara agreed, wondering why she hadn’t thought of it herself. They all cut across the road and began walking into the woods. Once they were completely concealed by the trees, they changed to their wolf forms at the same time, the blue cloud of smoke filling the woods and drifting through the trees.
    Let’s keep moving along , Colby instructed, leading the way through the woods. We gotta pick up the pace if we want to get there soon.
    They raced through the woods, on all fours, until they reached a snow-covered mound. Samara was about to lead her pack members up when she saw it, and the smell became even clearer. A wolf stepped out from behi nd a tree and approached them.
    The wolf stood taller a nd had broader shoulders than an ordinary wolf that would normally be found in the wilderness. It was definitely a werewolf.
    Halt, who goes there? the werewolf’s high-pitched, girly voice aske d.
    Even in wolf form, Samara could hear Kyle laughing. Halt, who goes there? What are we . . .  in the eighteenth century or something?
    Kyle , Samara said, shooting her cousin a glare. She really didn’t want him to piss off this werewolf. Not while they were i n Koto territory. She turned to the wolf. I’m Samara, and this is Kyle, Luke, Colby, Chris, Josh, and Steve , she said, introducing al l of the members of the pack.
    I’m Kyana , the wolf said, sitting down on the ground contently. What pack are you from?
    Ima , Samara replied. She didn’t even ask Kyana what pack she was from; she already knew the answer. We’re from Pennsylvania.
    I know where you’re from , Kyana replied, meeting Samara’s eyes. Even through the dark Alaskan day, she could see that Kyana had vivid orange eyes. She had never seen anything like it before. Although the color seemed like it would be haunting on any other wolf, there was something friendly about Kyana’s eyes. Samara automatically found herself trusting her.
    How do you know where we’re from? Josh asked. Samara noted a sense of defensiveness in his voice.
    I just know things , Kyana replied, and Samara could have sworn she saw her roll her eyes. What I don’t know is why you’re in our territory.
    Samara wondered if she should be honest with Kyana. She glanced over at Luke. He nodde d, encouraging her to explain.
    My grandfather, Joe McKinley, left something for me here. I’ve come to reclaim it , Samara replied, deciding not to go into much detail.
    It didn’t matter, though. Kyana’s orange eyes lit up at just the mention of Grandpa Joe’s name. Joe McKinley, you say? He was your grandfather?
    Yes , Samara answered, nodding her head. One of her furry, white ears flopped over and cover ed her eye.
    My papa will want to speak to you. Come with me , Kyana instructed.
    Samara glanced over her shoulder at Luke. His golden eyes mirrored what she felt: worry. Kyana didn’t seem all that bad herself, but what was her father going to be like . . . and why did he want to speak to her? The whole situation seemed rather strange.
    Even though Samara’s gut told her to turn around, to tell her pack tha t coming to Alaska had been a hu g e mistake, she