Page 44 of Feral

People had, just as my brothers and their wives had assumed, regaled her with stories about her great-uncle. He’d been a kind, patient human who always had time for the pack. While no one had told him we were shifters, it was assumed he knew and didn’t care. The tales were all good ones, and hopefully, Natalie could cherish them.

“The Barn Cats are ready for you,” Boyd said, coming up with Audrey tucked under his arm.

“What? Me?” Natalie asked, looking at my brother in confusion.

“Yeah, you brought your fiddle over, didn’t you?”

When she continued to stare at him blankly, he cocked his head, narrowing his eyes slightly. “We talked about it on the phone earlier.”

I thought I detected alarm in her expression before she smoothed it out. “Oh, right. Yes. When we talked on the phone.”

“So, where’s the fiddle?” Boyd glanced around. “Got your case stored somewhere?”

She frowned. “Um, no. Sorry, I forgot it. I guess Rob’s addled my brain.”

“It’s all right if you forgot,” I reassured her. She seemed strangely uncomfortable, which made my wolf extremely protective.

Boyd put his fingers in his mouth and an ear-splitting whistle cut through the air. Everyone turned to look our way. “Kurt, got an extra fiddle? We’ve got an extra fiddle player right here.” Boyd pointed down at the top of Natalie’s head, and everyone started to clap and cheer.

All color bled from her cheeks, and she took a step back.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, leaning in so only she—and every other wolf around—could hear.

“I’m not in the mood to play.”

Boyd took his arm from around Audrey, then slung his other around Natalie, as if taking on a new mate. “Nonsense, they play easy stuff in comparison to what you’re used to. Don’t worry, they won’t be pulling out any Mozart. Come on, darlin’. Show ‘em what you got. Don’t be afraid. From what we talked about last month when you were still at school, you’re a hot shot player.”

Natalie offered him a fake smile, but he gave her no choice, leading her through the small group of pack members to the other musicians. They introduced themselves one at a time, then Kurt handed her a violin and bow. The old guy was as grizzled as they came, but he was a mean fiddle player and had a kind soul.

I had no idea what the difference was between a violin and a fiddle, but I knew I liked the sound either way.

Natalie didn’t sit down, so the guys didn’t either. They moved to stand, so she was in the center of them, five musicians lined up. Kurt began to play a lively melody, the other Barn Cats picking up the tune.

Pack members clapped and stomped their feet. Natalie smiled nervously, then looked around. Then she set the bow and fiddle down on a table, reached for a can of soda, put it to her mouth, and spilled it all down the front of her.

Purposely.

Something was off.

“Oh God,” she murmured with a forced laugh. “I need to go clean up.” She set the violin gently back in its case and made a beeline toward the house.

I intercepted her on the way, taking her hand and leading her through the back door and into the house. Shifters had exceptional hearing, but hopefully they wouldn’t eavesdrop from in here. It was one thing for the entire pack to know my business, it was another for them to overhear it.

“Angel, you want to tell me what in the hell’s going on?”

“Nothing. I just spilled.” She grabbed some paper towels from the roll and dabbed them over the soda on her dress. “I should probably get home and change.”

“Bullshit.” I caught her arm and turned her to face me.

She tensed into what I would swear was a fighter’s stance—her knees soft, her elbows loosely bent. I caught the scent of fear, and it turned my stomach sour.

My mate was afraid?

Of me?

Something wasn’t right here. I could sense it, being alpha. It made for a great leader the fact that I had a very strong bullshit meter.

Why wouldn’t she want to play with the others? It was obvious she didn’t. Nothing made sense. My mind raced over the possibilities.