Barbara Hancock - Legendary Wolf

Soren was the red wolf. He heard the alpha’s command in his brother’s voice. He saw the black wolf deep down in Ivan’s eyes. His whole body went numb from the cold of the calm he forced through sheer willpower alone.

Who had told Ivan about the sword?

The alpha was warning him away from an unacceptable mate. Soren agreed. Hell, Anna agreed. So why was his internal response a long, echoing howl of refusal? He tamped it down. He clenched his teeth. He held himself still, because if he moved a millimeter, it might become a shift to challenge the alpha’s authority. Ivan’s eyes widened. In spite of Soren’s best efforts, his brother was wise beyond his apparent years. He looked like a twenty-five-year-old man. He was, in fact, much older. He must have sensed or seen Soren’s visceral response to his order.

A noise interrupted before the standoff could erupt into violence. They both broke away from the stare to look up. Elena appeared at a window high above them. She’d thrown it open, and several ravens had lifted off from their sentinel perches on its ledge. White curtains billowed outward around her blanket-wrapped form. They were too far away to see her face, but the sound of Ivan’s name drifted with the sound of flapping wings.

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