Rowan felt slight anxiety creep into his mind. A femme wolf was lost on his land. His father would laugh at the absurdity.
His pack had some of the best trackers in the world. Word of this could not get out. A niggling thought tickled the back of his mind.
Just as he was about to pursue the thought, he felt a pull towards a particular scent. It took him a few seconds as he followed his nose to a section just off the line of sight of the house. By the time he got to the bottom of the treehouse, he knew she was there.
He quickly scaled the trunk of the tree from muscle memory. Mila lay lazily on the treehouse floor, looking at the stars. She hadn’t seemed to notice his presence.
“Wow. My pack security is scouring the land for you and here you are acting like a princess. You’ve increased my bar for ungrateful by a mile,” Rowan sneered.
Mila continued to gaze at the stars. He had made his choice; now it was her turn. Although she was loath to admit it, she felt hurt.
