There was no doubt when a wolf from a different pack crossed into another alpha’s territory. It was like walking through a beaded curtain, yet having that heavy tickle touch every nerve, caressing every inch of skin with a titillating sensation. A beacon that warned it’s wanderer that it crossed a line. There was never a doubt to a wolf that they were on someone else’s land, someone else’s domain. And if that werewolf wasn’t invited in, things would get ugly, fast.
Even so, as they traversed over that imaginary line separating Luna Felicity’s territory, Gamma Rhys’ pack lands, and crossed into Alpha Weyland’s domain at Devon, which stretched to the furthest tip of England’s southwest coast, they were stopped nearly immediately by the Alpha’s border control. Many cars were admitted
