by T. S. Joyce
He’d found Wolf a hobby.
Chapter Five
Waiting an entire week proved to be more than Grey could handle. Questions about what Morgan Carter was doing clouded his mind. Who was she talking to? Was the child with her? Were they okay?
It rained for three days, and the gray weather matched his melancholy mood. He stared out the window from his seat on the old hand-me-down couch at the unimpressive view of the red brick building next door. All he did lately was stare out the widow from inside his one room cage. She lived somewhere in this city and he didn’t know where. The instinct to protect her overwhelmed him. Were feelings this potent for every wolf?
This wasn’t okay. She probably didn’t care about his existence at all, but Wolf? He obsessed over her, and it wasn’t good or normal. He knew that. God, he hated how he’d turned out.
Twice in the last week, he walked to the boxing gym to make sure she wasn’t fitting in an extra workout. His saving grace from the Morgan obsession? His landlady had allowed him to build a little woodshop on the roof of the building. That was one thing he kept from his old life—his love of woodwork. Before, he could get lost in creating something new. Work was an escape. An outlet. But now? No matter how much he concentrated on work, his thoughts still never strayed too far from her. Yesterday he’d almost finished chair that he could actually sell for some decent income. But the minute he’d finished smoothing out the legs with sand paper, Wolf took over and flung it against the wall, breaking it into splinters.
He was losing it.
You know what? Fuck this. It was Saturday morning and he couldn’t spend the entire weekend staring at this goddamn brick.
Yes we can, Wolf argued. We can sit here and think about her.
That was a hell no, so he took a drive in his old beat-up Chevy, and landed on the Dallas pack property for a little werewolf Q and A. If anyone could answer questions about his obsession, Dean could. Since he’d seen Morgan, he’d only become more confused with how deeply he cared for a stranger, and he needed answers.
At the pack’s property, Dean’s truck was gone from the driveway in front of his house. One of the other members might be able to answer his questions though, so he knocked anyway. Rachel, Dean’s mate, opened the door.
Her forest green eyes widened with shock. “Grey, what are you doing here?”
“Uuuh, I was looking for Dean. Or…one of the other males?”
“Dean isn’t home.” She smelled like fear.
Her anxiety made him feel bad. His lack of control always made the Pack keep their distance. He eased back toward the porch railing to give her some space and make her more comfortable. “I had some questions for him, but maybe you could answer them for me.”
“Okay, sure. Come on in,” she said nervously, swinging the door open wider.
“Brandon, Logan, and Alexis are out back,” she said. “They’re having dinner with us. You are welcome to stay if you want.”
Clever she-wolf. She was letting him know she wasn’t alone.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Rachel. I’m not going to hurt you, or anyone else. I’m confused about something and have a couple questions, but I can come back later when Dean is home if you want. Making that drive doesn’t bother me. It’s nice to just get out of the city.”
“Honestly? I don’t know how you live in the concrete jungle without your wolf going mad,” she said with the ghost of a smile. “You’re very intimidating, Greyson. Sometimes you don’t realize the effect you have on other wolves. You’re pretty scary, even when you don’t mean to be,” she admitted with a laugh. She gestured him inside and sat down at the dining room table, waited for him to sit across from her. “What do you want to know about?” she asked.
“Uuuum.” He hadn’t talked to Rachel much before now, and unloading a heap of heavy, personal stuff was a big conversation to have. He gritted his teeth against the creeping hesitation. Here went nothing. “Why don’t humans ever come here? I mean, does anyone take a human mate or is it against the rules?”
Rachel stared at him with wide, green eyes. “Uh, oh, uhhh…” she stumbled. “Well, no, it isn’t against the rules. It has to be a special kind of human who can handle…all of this, though,” she said as she waved her hand around. “It’s common to have flings with humans, especially for males. There aren’t enough females to keep them, um, occupied. But things rarely get serious enough to bring them in front of the pack. There’re too many secrets, but I’ve seen it done before. A wolf can take a human mate.” She paused as if she were waiting for him to ask more but he stared out the window instead.
Outside, the perfectly manicured lawn led to the untamed forest, protected by the prickling thorns of short mesquite brush along the outskirts of the yard. In the distance, tall oaks and cottonwood trees held vigil over the land. The view was much nicer than his in the city. Wolf might actually let him think with a view like this.
“Is there a specific woman you’re interested in?” Rachel asked.
No reason justified the danger of putting Morgan’s name in front of the pack, so instead he asked, “What is it like when you find a mate?”
“Well, not all wolves find, or even want one. I guess there is less of a point if you can’t have children, and there are a limited number of female wolves to match up with the males. Our pack houses three females, which is rare. Women seldom make good wolves, or even survive the first Change, so the male to female ratio in a pack is always unbalanced. Many packs don’t have any females at all. Because males are so driven by sex and violence, a Turned female should choose a mate and protector quickly. Almost all females find a mate, as it’s necessary for self-preservation, but most males do not. If you don’t plan on Turning a human, a serious relationship with one is kind of pointless. The way we age is so different, and you can’t really have a long-term relationship with someone you intend to keep these kinds of secrets from without them growing suspicious. But, the wolf in some of us demands a mate. Wolves are loyal creatures in the wild, often mating for life, and it is no different for some of us. If you’re lucky enough to find a mate, you find yourself extremely attracted to that person. You want to protect her and be around her all the time—your wolf accepts hers, or in the case of a human, your wolf accepts what she could be.”
“What she could be?”
“Well, yes. Your wolf can tell if he will find her wolf acceptable when she is Changed. There’s nothing like a mated pair of werewolves—devotion, commitment, protection. It can never be as potent with a wolf and human, but it can be done, and although I can tell by the face you’re making, you wouldn’t want her Turned, many times it’s the human’s decision. Our aging is slowed down, and when you look just as you do now at fifty and she looks fifty, a woman tends to start kicking herself for not trying to Change sooner. Grey, are you all right?”
His blood ran cold with stifling disappointment. Of course he would never want this life for her. Until this moment, he’d been blind to how different they were. He and Morgan weren’t even the same species anymore. It was a knife in his gut. Being with her could never work. He was doomed to watch his mate from a distance, never talking to her or touching her. He’d chosen a mate the moment his Wolf was born into existence, and now he couldn’t have her. Wouldn’t have her. She deserved better than the bleak future he would blanket her with.
There was nothing more to say. He’d already hinted at too much and didn’t want to put Morgan in the pack’s path, even if they meant her no harm. It was best that she went on thinking werewolves were the stuff of legend. He had to protect her from his world.
The loss of that hope created a bigger hole inside of him, empty and infinite.
He thanked Rachel in a rush, stood left before the other wolves came back. The last thing he needed was to see Alexis right now.
His world was splitting apart into a billion shards of shattered glass. The roller coaster of the past few days had no end in sight. Watching her from a distance would
never, ever be enough.
Familiar tingling started down his spine and expanded into his fingertips and toes. He fought it at first, but hesitancy never worked. Control over his Changes didn’t exist. If he just let go, and stopped fighting Wolf, it hurt less.
He groaned with the next wave of pain, as pitch black fur sprouted from his body. At least it had happened here and not in his tiny apartment. Bright side. He let the grief of loss sweep over him as he finished the transition from man to beast and collapsed onto the yard, panting.
Dean wouldn’t mind if he went for a run on the property. That’s what the land was intended for. He lay there until he was recovered and then took off around the truck and into the woods. Within moments, he picked up a fresh trail from Alexis, Brandon, and Logan, and steered clear of it. He wouldn’t go looking for trouble. Being alone was much more important.
At a dead sprint he headed west, running faster and faster until his motion was fluid. The woods were where he belonged. He punished himself by living in the city, but it was exactly what a monster deserved.
Limbs, leaves, and brush whipped at him as he bolted by and he slowed at the edge of a creek. It bubbled away at the back corner of the property and with any luck, the other wolves would get the hint that he wanted to be alone, and stay away. The run wasn’t a social call; it was a necessity.
He lay on the edge of a thicket on a blanket of leaves. A chill was in the air and the fine hairs of his undercoat rose in an attempt to keep him warm. Autumn was close, inviting the frigid weather of colder seasons. Would his coat thicken up this year for cold weather runs? It hadn’t last winter, and he’d had to make sure he was up and running quickly after he’d Changed to stay warm.
Sunlight streamed through the tree limbs above him, moving in a slow dance across the leaf blanketed ground. How long he lay there thinking about Morgan, he wasn’t sure. Time didn’t matter so much to wolves.
A noise rustled off to the left and he twitched his ears toward it. He could use something to hunt. He rose to his haunches and crept quietly as he could toward the sound, expecting a rabbit or a squirrel to run from the brush at any moment. Wolf was ready for a good chase.
About to pounce out of the thicket, he stopped short as the wind shifted and an unwelcome smell hit him. Alexis. She stood there in her human form, naked and in some ridiculous pose she’d probably practiced in front of the mirror. Nudity was part of everyday life for a werewolf but he was still adjusting to everyone being so comfortable with it.
Every member in the pack saw each other naked so much, it was the same as seeing them with clothes on at this point, but there was something different about the way Alexis flaunted her body. She always teased Brandon, and tried to tease Grey. Her personality was obnoxious.
He pulled ready lips back from his teeth and rumbled a warning.
“Oh, stuff it. Rachel sent me out to tell you dinner’s ready,” she said before she backed away slowly.
Smart girl. Never turn your back on a wolf, especially one as dominant as him. Showing your back was like screaming, Chase me down and eat me like a chicken wing.
He huffed a breath of frustration. It looked like he would be staying for dinner after all. What in the hell was he going to do about clothes? He hadn’t taken his off before the Change and they’d been ripped and left in a tire track mud smear near his truck. He paced back and forth, unwilling to go into the house with Naked Alexis.
No help for it. He bolted past her to Change at the edge of Dean’s backyard. His favorite spot, because of the dense shrubbery offering privacy, and it wasn’t too far from the house, where he had to go gallivanting through all of creation with not so much as a fig leaf to cover his dick.
Rachel stood on the front porch with a pile of linens from the pack’s stash of extra clothes. They would probably be way too small, as he was a tall man, but he would take a damn burlap sack at this point. She waved to him and placed the clothes on the front porch swing. He nodded his thanks and ran to quickly get dressed before Alexis showed up.
As he unfolded the clothes, his hands trembled. His nerve endings were still raw and new, and even a light caress from the fabric was like sandpaper against an open wound. His skin always burned for a while after the Change.
Of the pack, he was still the one least comfortable with being butt-ass naked. Well, besides Marissa. He didn’t know what had happened to that girl, but male wolves made her extremely uncomfortable. When he was around, he created such visible turmoil within the girl, he tried to avoid getting close to her altogether, both to abstain from scaring her and to steer clear of the smell of fear that would set Wolf off. The acrid scent of it always made him want to bite something.
Clothed, he went inside the house. Alexis sat at the table already. She must’ve come in through the back.
“I counted an eight pack,” she murmured.
He hated her smirk and growled in frustration. God she was an obnoxious creature.
He hesitated at the door. Maybe there was still time to run to his truck and peel out of here. Rachel’s face lit up and she waved him to a seat at the huge dining table. Too late for escape.
Dean was home now, and brought covered dishes from the kitchen to set at the table. He nodded a greeting and slapped Grey on the back. He grimaced and hoped it passed for a smile. Dominance issues aside, he’d come to rely on Dean as a friend over the past six months. Physical contact was huge with wolves, but he, being so used to having none whatsoever, was only beginning to warm up to the idea of anyone touching him and not biting their hands off.
Brandon and Logan were already at the table and the former sent an occasional glare his way as Alexis stared at Grey like a damn hawk on a rat. Apparently, he hadn’t scared her as much as he’d thought with the old kiss-and-strangle move.
“Alexis, that’s enough,” Rachel said as she sat down with the last dish of buttered rolls for the table.
“What? I can’t enjoy the view?” she asked innocently.
“Enough,” Dean growled in a clear order she’d have no choice but to obey. “You’re making him and everyone else at this table uncomfortable. Rachel’s put a lot of effort into fixing this meal for us. Don’t ruin it.”
Grey sent him a nod of thanks and moved large portions of chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, and vegetables onto his plate. His eating had improved as he’d been enlightened by the importance of keeping his new body, with its extremely high metabolism, fed. He’d managed to put on a bit of his old weight, now in muscle, but still had some to gain.
A skinny werewolf was a dangerous werewolf.
Once the food had been served, everyone stopped talking, concentrated on stuffing their faces. The silence was comfortable. After they slowed down, they spoke of menial things; work, weather. Marissa, the youngest in the pack, sat at the end of the table, as far away from Grey as possible. He tried to ask her what classes she would be taking at the local community college next year, but she clammed up and turned pale. The rest of the meal, he ignored her so she would be more comfortable. For as long as he lived, he would never get used to being a monster.
Logan lifted yet another lingering glance in Marissa’s direction. Grey looked at her to see if she was okay or if there was any other reason Logan would have such an interest in her but didn’t see any difference. Still the same quiet girl she’d been the minute before. Not even a blob of mashed potatoes on her face to justify the attention. She wilted under Logan’s gaze.
That rangy shifter likes the way the girl looks, Wolf enlightened him.
Grey let out a low rumbling growl as he stared, teeth bared, at Logan across the table.
He stopped eating and glanced, wide-eyed at Grey. “What did I do?”
“You know what. She’s too young. Probably won’t make a decision for another ten years. Don’t even look at her the rest of the meal. You’re scaring her,” Grey bit out.
Logan dropped his head and threw a questioning look at Dean.
The alpha squinted
thoughtfully at Grey and chewed slowly. His eyes lightened, and a low rumble sounded in his throat. “Careful giving orders to my pack, Grey.” The tension clung to every air molecule in the room, making it hard to breathe.
Finally, a good fight, Wolf said, a smile tainting his words.
Rachel cleared her throat delicately and rested her hand on Dean’s arm.
With a slow blink, Dean dragged his lightened now-silver eyes to his wife, and stared at her for a long moment. “Logan, leave Marissa alone,” he ordered, dragging his gaze to the offending wolf.
The tension in Grey’s back muscles released immediately. Marissa looked partly thankful but mostly terrified. She tried to smile at Grey, but it came out as a tiny lip tremble instead. He went back to eating and ignoring her, because it was the most he could do for her. There was no way to tone Wolf down enough to ease her terror. She was just going to have to get used to him.
After dinner wrapped up, the wolves gathered on the wrap-a-round front porch and talked into the night. Grey didn’t speak much, but he rarely did. Mostly, he enjoyed the easy banter and rough play between the others. It was nice watching them be normal for werewolves. Just being around their chemistry eased something inside of him that he couldn’t explain.
“You’re welcome to stay the night, Grey,” Dean offered, leaned back in the porch swing and chewing on a toothpick. “It’s getting pretty late to drive all the way back to your place.”
“Thanks, but I’m about to head on out. Things to do tomorrow.”
“I’m going to pack some leftovers for you,” Rachel said softly then disappeared into the kitchen. Grey headed toward the truck and waved goodnight to everyone—except Alexis—and Dean caught up at a jog.
Once out of earshot, Dean stopped and turned to him. “Rachel told me what you two talked about earlier, and I wanted to add something.”
