Despite Stellan's deepest hopes, he knew there would be no way of keeping Lofgren from aggressively demanding an answer from every pack member about Colten's whereabouts. The alpha had always been possessive of his wolves, even the weak ones. Though Colten would most likely have never amounted to much among the pack besides being good stud practice for the wolves deemed worthy enough to breed, Lofgren seemed incensed that the young man had gone missing. Excuses and half-answers would fall from Stellan's lips like dying leaves if Lofgren were to confront him, but he knew none of it was satisfying enough to ease the alpha into a sense of complacency. Lofgren would growl and rage like a wild animal, snarling demands through clenched teeth and threatening to shred the throat of anyone who may have harmed his wolf. It was nothing less than what Stellan had expected.<br/><br/><i>I hope Blue and Eivind already booked it</i>, Stellan had thought. When the alpha ran off to talk to Sieger, Stellan took the opportunity to return to his bike, riding off to collect Sig. The trip into town gave Stellan ample time to contemplate what to do, Sig's lean arms wrapped around his waist as the wind whooshed past their helmets. Thought Eivind had been the one to kill Colten, it wouldn't be good for Stellan if Lofgren found out he hadn't avenged his pack mate's death. As far as Stellan was concerned, though he mourned the stupid boy's loss, Eivind had been in his right to tear out the kid's throat. He was on foreign pack territory, and he assaulted Eivind's mate. The rules were simple. Any clear-minded wolf would agree. But not Lofgren.<br/><br/>Stellan thought himself free for a short while. Though Lofgren had been intent on discovering what tragedy had befallen Colten, he never expected any further contact from the pack. At least not so soon. While Sig shacked up in a dingy motel with Blue and Eivind, Stellan returned to his old friend William Yates with a six-pack in hand. Yates allowed Stellan to sleep in the garage in exchange for working for him, giving him a percentage of whatever cars Stellan tinkered with while there. With Stellan around, Yates took the opportunity to spend some time at home with the wife, leaving the handling of the garage to Stellan. The wolf was grateful for it, as it gave him plenty of privacy for when Sig came down to visit.<br/><br/>Sig had told Stellan to keep his distance from his friends, at least for now. It left him craving Sig desperately when the little wolf was away, only the cars and his tools around to keep him company. Stellan was ecstatic when Sig showed up once more, shutting down the garage without a word and tearing at the small wolf's clothing, They fucked over the hood of a particularly sweet cherry red 1969 Ford Mustang, Stellan coating Sig's skin with a layer of oil and sweat while he pumped hot seed into Sig's ass with a series of animalistic thrusts.<br/><br/>The pounding on the garage door at the commencement of Sig and Stellan's lovemaking left the big wolf irritated. The sound of Garlan's voice crashed into him, causing him to flinch as the wolf's grating clawed at his skull. Of all the wolves to send, Lofgren chose<i>Garlan</i>? Maybe the pathetic beast had seen it as a way to garner favor with his alpha after practically ostracizing himself. Stellan had quickly learned that it was no secret Garlan was unofficially blamed for Lofgren losing his favorite sex toy. It had left Garlan in a shitty position with no respect to speak of. No wonder he was running errands to collect stray wolves.<br/><br/>“Look, as far as anyone is aware, you're just someone I'm fucking. No one knows you're associated with Blue and Eivind,” Stellan whispered, hoping the smell of his semen would overpower whatever scent lingered on Sig's skin. “I'll tell him to fuck off, but be good.” He pressed a kiss to Sig's lips before sliding open the garage door, shirt still off and oil-stained jeans clinging to his hips.<br/><br/>“I'm sorry to hear about Colt,” Stellan replied, somewhat truthfully, bulky arms crossed over a swath of tattooed flesh. “But I don't know anything. I never saw Colt after I left.”<br/><br/>Stellan was standing directly in front of Garlan, doing his best to obscure the ugly wolf's view of Sig without seeming too obvious. “If I could do something, you know I would.”<i>Like bury the dumb kid out in the middle of the fucking forest. </i>“But I dunno shit. If Lof sent you here to bring me back, you're shit outta luck. I have a steady gig for a while and I need to stay to send money back to the pack. Can't work if I'm running around with you hunting deer.”<br/><br/>Sweat dripped down Stellan's forehead in glistening drops; he wiped at them absentmindedly, frowning at Garlan as he studied the wolf's angry face. “Go tell Lof I don't know what Colt wanted or why he was looking for me. It's all I got for you.”