A howl rent the dawn and everything inthe forest went quiet.
She froze, her heart hammering in herchest and her breath catching in her throat. Branches crackednearby as if they were being crushed by something large. She couldfeel menace bearing down on her, fear rising inside her like atidal wave.
And then she saw him.
The enormous creature she’d namedMytan stalked into view.
He howled, lifting his great head tothe sky and letting out a warbling “Arooo!”
Then he lowered the front half of hisbody, his tail whipping back and forth like a flag.
Play bow.
“Montana,” she said softly,emotion choking her so she could hardly say his realname.
He flopped fully to theground and then rolled to his back, his tongue lolling out of hismouth as he waited for her to scratch his belly. She walked to himand dropped to her knees, sinking her hands into the soft, whitefur. Something clicked within her, a profound understanding thatshe absolutely was not dreaming.
In all the years she’d dreamed ofWrath, she’d never once dreamed of the forest-guarding monsterMytan. She’d written him in her grief three years earlier when herdog—Montana—a husky she’d adopted at ten weeks old, had passedaway. He’d developed arthritis in his hips and joints and beenunable to get up and down the stairs to go outside. She’d beenutterly wrecked by his death and hadn’t been able to write for overa month. She’d toyed with getting another dog, but after a fewtrips to a local adoption agency, she’d decided she wasn’tready.
“Montana,” she whispered,giving his belly a good scratching. “I thought I’d never see youagain.”
He rolled to his stomach and nudgedher hand, urging her to scratch his ears.
“Arrooo.” His howl wassofter, a “hello” of sorts that she’d always thought washilarious.
In real life, he’d been aseventy-pound purebred husky, white with a black and gray saddle,and ice blue eyes ringed with black that she always thought lookedlike eyeliner. He’d loved tennis balls and begging for food.Besides Montana, she’d given him a hundred nicknames—Bad Dog,Mooch, Bed-Stealer, and My Tana.
After her heart had healed a little,when she wasn’t sure if the ache would ever really go away, she’ddecided to write him into her stories. She’d commissioned an artistto turn a photo of him into an illustration of a Clydesdale-sizedmonster with deadly claws and fangs. He was the forest guardian,and she’d used him a few times over the years to kill charactersshe didn’t like.
“How do you recognize me?”she asked, brushing at the tears on her cheeks.
“Trinity!” Wrath’s voicewas harsh, edged with fear.
She looked over her shoulder at theglorious male, his eyes the amber of his beast, a sword brandishedthreateningly.
“Hey,” she said, scrubbingat her wet cheeks with the back of her hand.
“Come to me, Trin,” hesaid, lowering his voice as he held out his hand. “Don’t make anysudden moves.”
Three men joined him, all dressedsimilarly in hide trousers with bare upper bodies and no shoes. Sherecognized them as the best hunters in his pack—Kayne, Teller, andAuberon.
She turned to face the four men. Thebig creature curled around her with a hum, nudging her hand untilit rested on his head.
“What’s wrong?” sheasked.
“How is that possible?”Teller asked, his eyes wide.
“How is what possible?” sheasked.
“You’ve tamed the Mytan,”Wrath said. He took a step toward her, and Mytan growled, his upperlip curling.
Wrath froze. Trinity chuckled andscratched Mytan behind the ears.
“He’s my pet. Well, I guessit’s true and not true. Mytan is a character I created for my AlphaMates book series. I wrote him after my husky Montana died as a wayto memorialize him.”
“What are you talkingabout? Character? Book?” Wrath asked as he put the sword into thesheath on his back.
“I can explain,” a woman’svoice said.
Trinity’s mouth fell open as thestrange woman from the conference strode into view. Mytan growledand tensed, curling even tighter around Trinity.
“You!” Trinity said. “Howare you here? Why do you look familiar?”
“You wrote about me. I’m awitch. I had a fling with a high-ranked wolf and was cast out of mycoven and exiled to this forest.”
Trinity’s mind raced, tripping overstory lines and plots from the books in her series. She stared atthe woman for several moments and then she gasped.
“Isolde.”
She nodded with a smile. “You forgotabout me, didn’t you?”
Trinity didn’t want to admit it, butit was true. She’d enjoyed writing about Isolde, but while she’dfound the coven interesting, the series was about the packs andtheir battles with the Blood Wolves and vampires. Witches, likesome of the other types of supernatural creatures she liked tosprinkle around the series, were plot fodder, useful when neededbut generally not worth an entire book.
She’d even toyed with doing a spin-offseries based on the coven and starring Isolde, but she’d nevergotten around to it.
“I did forget about you,I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I have agreat life.”
Trinity patted Mytan on the head androse to her feet, brushing off the dirt and debris. The bigcreature rose and shook himself out, sending white fur flying. Shebrushed at her shorts. “I don’t miss the fur.” Montana shed twice ayear like it was his life’s purpose, leaving hunks of white fur allover her apartment.
“Can you tell me what’shappening?” Trinity asked Isolde. “I don’t understand how you cameto me at the conference or how I ended up here.”
“My home isn’t too far fromhere,” Isolde said. “I’ll tell you everything. Your true mate andhis males can come with us.”
Wrath gave Isolde a narrow look. “I’llnot put my mate in danger, witch.”
“There’s no need forthreats, Alpha.”
“I need to hear what shehas to say, Wrath. Either come with us or stay here.”
He frowned with a snarl.
She held out her hand and gave him asmile to soften what she’d said. “It’s important.Please.”
He took her hand and the moment theirfingers linked, everything snapped into awareness within her. Thiswas no dream. He was real. The whole damn world she’d dreamed aboutfor twelve years was real. She didn’t know how it
