{"id":966,"date":"2017-09-10T08:23:58","date_gmt":"2017-09-10T12:23:58","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/?p=966"},"modified":"2017-09-11T16:31:11","modified_gmt":"2017-09-11T20:31:11","slug":"huntress-born-chapter-1-scene-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/?p=966","title":{"rendered":"Huntress Born, Chapter 1 Scene 2"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Huntress<\/a>(Did you miss the first scene? Click here to start at the beginning.<\/a>)<\/em><\/p>\n

The Uber app reported that my ride was still several miles out and my stomach ached with the enforced distance from pack. So I sank down onto the curb and succumbed to that most lupine of yearnings\u2014the necessity of calling home.<\/p>\n

\u201cEmber.\u201d The voice of my father\u2014who wasn\u2019t biologically related but who was<\/i> very much my alpha\u2014crept over me like the scent of a newly mown meadow. Shoulders that had hunched up around my ears for the last eighteen hours drifted gradually downward and I eyed the cupcake bin strapped to the top of my suitcase with renewed longing.<\/p>\n

Not yet<\/i>, I chided myself. Hearing Wolfie say my name might have made me feel at home, but I hadn\u2019t actually reached a safe harbor. Which meant it wasn\u2019t time for my much-anticipated treat. Not quite yet.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad,\u201d I answered instead, trying to sound like a capable twenty-five-year-old woman rather than like a scared little girl. Despite my fanged alter-ego, this was the first time I\u2019d left Haven under my own volition. No wonder I felt as jumpy as a newborn colt.<\/p>\n

And my father must have sensed the worry imbuing that lone word. Because he dove right into the heart of the issue with all the single-mindedness of a born wolf. \u201cTrouble?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing I can\u2019t handle.\u201d My tone was firm but I knew Wolfie heard the lie in my voice as easily as I\u2019d picked out the pride and affection in his. So I strove to make the next sentence true by recalling the way the scent of fur had faded almost as soon as it entered my nostrils. \u201cI\u2019m fine,\u201d I added, focusing on the fact that the trouble really was gone. I had<\/i> handled the potential problem. So my initial words weren\u2019t really a falsehood after all.<\/p>\n

And the evasion seemed to work. Unfortunately, my father moved on to a question that was much harder to sidestep. \u201cAre you eating your cupcake yet?\u201d Wolfie asked next, his deep rumble the lupine equivalent of a relaxing purr.<\/p>\n

This time I hesitated, unwilling to fudge a question so tightly tied to a beloved childhood ritual. Because Dad had been baking gift cupcakes ever since I\u2019d reached my teens, using the unique pastries to celebrate hurdles overcome and milestones achieved. In today\u2019s case, the pastry Wolfie had concocted with his own two hands\u2014unlike the more numerous ones I\u2019d made myself\u2014was tucked away deep within my suitcase, a single-serving bin hiding what was bound to be a work of art.<\/p>\n

I hadn\u2019t even seen my present yet. Was saving that particular boost for the moment when I was finally able to let down my guard and relax into my bed tonight. I wanted to eat the gift with care while feeling the pack bond encircle me just like my father\u2019s arms had done so many times before. I wanted to use Dad\u2019s cupcake to remember I was loved.<\/p>\n

So, in the end, I didn\u2019t even attempt a lie as I answered my father\u2019s second question of the evening. \u201cNot yet,\u201d I admitted. Then, remembering my supposed independence and the very real distance separating me from my home pack, I added: \u201cBut you can go to sleep anyway. I have this covered.\u201d<\/p>\n

Wolfie hummed acknowledgement of my honesty, but that didn\u2019t mean he was willing to let me off the hook just yet. \u201cIf you\u2019re not eating, then I\u2019m not sleeping,\u201d my father murmured, his words warming my belly far more than a mere morsel of chocolate might have done.<\/p>\n

But then the silence between us turned brittle, and I sighed, knowing which often-repeated conversation was coming next. \u201cYou don\u2019t have to say it,\u201d I interjected, cutting my father off at the pass. \u201cThis might be a wild-goose chase and Derek might not want to be found. If my brother really intended to get to know me, he would have come to visit in person rather than sending cryptic messages that resulted in me crossing territory lines. That all makes just as much sense as it did the first time you said it…but I\u2019m willing to take the chance. I can\u2019t leave my brother dangling if he\u2019s really in trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know,\u201d Dad rumbled, his voice just as warm now as it had been a moment earlier. He didn\u2019t correct my semantics, either. Didn\u2019t mention that Derek was only a half-brother or that our shared mom had chosen to abandon me at birth. Instead, Dad\u2019s next words proved that my adopted father, at least, would always be on my side even if he disapproved of my current actions. \u201cThat wasn\u2019t what I was going to say at all.\u201d<\/p>\n

The phone went silent as my father paused, and I closed my eyes to better sense his presence. Despite the hundreds of miles that separated us, merely breathing in tandem revitalized exhausted muscles and soothed traveling jitters. I would have gladly sat there all night, soaking up Wolfie\u2019s strength and reveling in the connection of pack.<\/p>\n

But I had places to go. Brothers to meet. Alphas to charm. So, at last, I prodded my father back onto track. \u201cDad?\u201d<\/p>\n

Immediately, Wolfie\u2019s deep rumble filled my ears once again. \u201cNo matter what happens, Buttercup, I\u2019ll be here to back you up. You can always come home.\u201d<\/p>\n

A human twenty-something would have responded with an agitated eye roll. There were even some shifters who might have felt stifled by an adopted parent\u2019s clear obsession with their continued well-being.<\/p>\n

But I wasn\u2019t one of the latter. For me, family was everything. As such, I had every intention of finding the half-brother I\u2019d never before met, making sure he wasn\u2019t in trouble, then high-tailing it back the way I\u2019d come as quickly and carefully as possible.<\/p>\n

Unfortunately, now wasn\u2019t the time to bask in familial reassurances. Because the scent of fur had returned, filling the air more strongly than ever. And this time, it was all I could do to swallow down a lupine growl.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve gotta go,\u201d I said instead, disconnecting the call without waiting for a reply and slipping my phone into a pants pocket for safekeeping. Then clambering to my feet, I stared out into the darkness in search of a wolf.<\/p>\n

Click here<\/a> to read the next scene. Or grab a copy here now.<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

(Did you miss the first scene? Click here to start at the beginning.) The Uber app reported that my ride was still several miles out and my stomach ached with the enforced distance from pack. So I sank down onto the curb and succumbed to that most lupine of yearnings\u2014the necessity of calling home. \u201cEmber.\u201d […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[49],"tags":[24,14,140,7,27,23,8],"class_list":["post-966","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-excerpts-aimee-easterling","tag-kindle-unlimited","tag-paranormal-books","tag-romance-books","tag-shifter-books","tag-urban-fantasy-books","tag-urban-paranormal-romantic-fantasy","tag-werewolf-books","post-preview"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/966","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=966"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/966\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":981,"href":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/966\/revisions\/981"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=966"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=966"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aimeeeasterling.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=966"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}