by Reine, SM
“I’m not leaving your side,” Abel said.
Rylie nodded, but didn’t speak.
Five minutes passed too quickly in the still silence. They always did on the night of a change.
Movement rippled through the waiting wolves. A brown-haired girl named Pyper cried out.
It was time.
The energy shifted around Abel. His skin prickled, and the hair stood up on the back of his neck. “Rylie?”
She looked at him again. There was no human left in her eyes.
Rylie held out a hand. Abel took it.
Their interlocked fingers were in stark contrast to each other—his skin darker than the midnight sky, and hers paler than the moon. The calm, assuring aura of the Alpha swept over him.
He transformed quickly.
The bones in his face made muffled cracking noises as they extended into a muzzle. His knees reversed and unbalanced him, forcing him to the ground.
His fingernails fell out. Rylie hadn’t released his hand—the sharp tips of his new claws pressed gently into the back of her hand. She had to let go once his fingers shortened into paws, but she sat at his side until he was done. Her hand stroked the ruff of fur that sprouted form his neck.
Only a few minutes later, he was done.
Gwyn had taken a photo of Rylie and Abel’s wolf forms once, just so he could see what he looked like. She put the picture on the mantle like it was a family Christmas shot. He was the size of a small pony, with sleek midnight fur and luminous eyes.
He shook himself, and flecks of blood sprayed the patio.
“Are you okay?” Rylie asked. She was frowning and biting her lip. Damn, that drove him crazy. He bumped his nose into her hand to tell her that he was okay.
The sounds of other changing wolves filled the night. Rylie rose to her feet, and he followed her down the hill.
She remained human as she moved through the pack. When a werewolf cried out, she sat with them until the transformation ended, and Abel watched to make sure they wouldn’t lash out at her. But none of them dared. Her power was too immense.
One by one, human flesh yielded to fur. Two legs became four.
Within twenty minutes, everyone had changed.
Their hairy bodies milled around Rylie, struggling to get as close to her as possible. She lifted her arms so that they could butt their noses into her ribs, the small of her back, her calves. They smelled her, licked her, bowed on their forelegs to show submission.
Abel remained at her side. Her fingers brushed his forehead.
“Go,” Rylie said. “Run.”
He threw his head back and loosed a howl. A small wolf the color of honey—Bekah—echoed his wail.
That was all the permission they needed. The werewolves scattered, jumping over rocks and tearing lines through the tall grass.
Rylie didn’t change.
Abel tilted his head and whined.
“Not tonight,” she said. “I don’t want to be with the pack in this mood.”
Abel pushed his head low to the ground, tail high in the air. Even though he didn’t use words, his message was meant to be obvious: Come play with us.
Rylie laughed. “But Abel…” He darted at her heels and nipped lightly. She jumped. “Hey! Don’t forget who’s the Alpha here.”
He rolled onto his side in a good patch of dirt and wriggled. More wolf-speak. This time: I’m not listening to you.
She rolled her eyes. “You’re a disrespectful jerk.”
Pyper zoomed past with Analizia and Levi hot on her tail. Rylie whirled to watch them run, and Abel couldn’t resist—he lunged into Pyper’s side, sending both of them rolling down the hill.
Levi pounced. The three of them were a tangled mess of legs and tails, and Abel had no idea who he was biting.
Rylie’s laughter drifted toward the stars.
Abel would have done pretty much anything to evoke that noise from her.
“Okay,” she said. “Fine. I’ll be right there.”
Rylie changed, and the pack ran as one.
Abel woke up covered in dew with someone pressed against him. He twisted around to see Rylie curled in the fetal position, her back against his. The sun hadn’t quite risen yet. A line of sugar ants marched over her bare hip.
He sat up to look at her, and for once, he really looked at her. The long line of her ribs down to her waist, the swell of her hip, the delicate lines of her legs. The bottoms of her feet were dirty. Four parallel, silvery scars marked her chest. Feathery white-blond hair fanned through the grass.
They were laying in the grass near the pond, far from the barn and any other wolves. Abel wasn’t sure how they had ended up alone. He couldn’t remember his nights as a wolf. But he had the vague impression of a beautiful night and the wind in his face.
And Rylie. Always Rylie.
His brother’s girlfriend.
But when was the last time that asshole spent longer than a weekend with her? Seth had sent her flowers for her eighteenth birthday. Flowers. That was it. He hadn’t even been able to go to her graduation.
She was turning into a woman while he was away at medical school. How was Abel supposed to keep from noticing that? He wasn’t selfless. And he definitely wasn’t blind.
“By becoming a priest,” he muttered, glancing at her bare hip again.
He brushed the ants off of her. Rylie gave a sigh and rolled onto her back without waking up.
Abel’s fingertips lingered on her skin, so soft and smooth.
Bad idea.
He turned from her with a groan and rubbed a hand over his eyes. Coffee sounded good. Better than thinking those kinds of thoughts about Rylie.
Abel left her sleeping peacefully by the pond and went to make coffee.
As it turned out, Abel really sucked at not thinking about Rylie. And the faster Saturday approached, the harder it became.
He probably should have been excited for his idiot brother to come back. They always had fun when Seth was around. It meant getting to tussle in the dirt, race through the fields, and shooting cans in the back forty. Brother stuff.
It also meant that Rylie was going to spend every waking moment with Seth instead of Abel.
He watched her out of the corner of his eye while they ate dinner together the next night. The werewolves were enjoying an entire cow’s worth of beef in the barn, but he sat on the stoop with Rylie, like the two of them always did. The setting sun turned her skin the same shade of gold as her hair.
“I’ve decided to take the year off,” Rylie said. She cut her steak into a lot of tiny pieces and ate them one by one. “Before going to college, I mean. If I go to college at all.”
“But you got a million acceptance letters.”
She shrugged. “Seems weird to leave when you still need me here.” Rylie glanced at him. “I mean, the werewolves need me. All of them. It’s not like a year without school will atrophy my brain.”
He pushed lightly on the side of her head. “It might. You could turn into a vegetable.” She elbowed him.
“At least I would be safe here. Werewolves don’t eat vegetables.” Rylie’s smile faded. “But they might eat my aunt if I’m not here to control them.”
“You think I can’t protect Gwyn?”
“That’s not it. I know you would take care of her. I trust you.” Her golden eyes zeroed in on him. “What do you think I should do?”
Their momentary scuffle had left them sitting a few inches closer on the step. They weren’t touching, but electricity made the air between them vibrate.
He opened his mouth to tell her that she should go to college in the fall. It’s what Seth would have said if he was there. It was the selfless thing.
But it wasn’t what came out.
“I don’t want you to go anywhere,” Abel said.
The corner of her mouth lifted in the tiniest smile. “Me neither.”
Inside, the phone rang.
They both moved, but Abel was faster. He launched to his fee
t and almost spilled the plate.
“I’ll get it,” he said.
He left Rylie on the step.
Bekah had reached the phone first. She paced through the hallway as she talked. Levi lounged on the couch with his head propped on one arm and a book on his lap.
Even though the call had been answered, Abel let the door fall shut behind him anyway.
Levi looked up from his book. “You remember that Rylie’s dating Seth, right? And that they’re totally, completely, head over heels for each other?”
“No. I’ve got amnesia and completely forgot the mushy bullshit that happens when they’re together. Are you stupid?” Abel didn’t bother trying to make it sound like he was joking.
“Just checking, because I saw you guys eating dinner out there. You looked pretty comfortable.”
“Aren’t you and your bitch sister supposed to be in California?”
“Dad told us that we’re staying for an extra couple of weeks,” Levi said, licking his thumb and turning a page. “He’s worried about hunters around the sanctuary in California.” His eyes flashed to Abel over his knees. “And if you call my sister a bitch again, I’m going to mess you up.”
“Then you better mind your own damn business.”
Bekah entered the living room and held the phone out. “Scott wants to talk to you, Abel.”
He glared at Levi and took the phone into his bedroom.
When the Riese twins were in town, Abel had to share a room with Levi. Everyone shared their living space—only Rylie and Gwyn got to have private rooms. Levi decorated his half of the room with soccer posters. A bong stuck out of a shoe under his bed.
Abel had his guns hung on the opposite wall, just to help remind his roommate what would happen if Levi got into his private space.
“Abel?” Scott asked over the phone. He had a deep, pleasant voice that was probably really good for soothing patients. Scott Whyte was a therapist and witch of the Wiccan persuasion. He also owned both of the werewolf sanctuaries, east and west.
“Yes, sir?”
“I thought you would want to know that Isoba Briggs’s family has filed a missing person report.”
It took him a minute to remember why he recognized that name. “You mean, the werewolf kid who never showed up at the airport?”
“That’s right. He’s not at home and he’s not in your hands. Which begs the question… where is he?”
Abel felt an all-too-familiar sense of looming dread. He ducked to peer out the window. Rylie was still on the step.
“I can go look for Isoba,” Abel said.
“I’ve already asked Seth to make a detour before joining you at the ranch. He agreed. I want you to stay close to home—I’ve seen strange activity from hunters in the region, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see it in yours, too.”
“Union?”
“Yasir said it’s not them, and I believe him,” Scott said. “These appear to be freelancers. But a lot of creatures are turning up dead—mostly demons so far. I don’t want any of them to be werewolves.”
“Understood. We’ll protect the pack.” He hesitated. “So when will Seth be back?”
“When he finds Isoba.”
Rylie wasn’t going to be happy to hear that. Abel, however, suddenly felt light. “Thanks for keeping me informed, sir.”
“You’re welcome. Stay safe.”
Scott hung up.
Abel watched as Rylie stood from the step and stretched her fingers high over her head. Her shirt lifted, baring a line of midriff over her belt.
It was a lot less than he saw on every new and full moon, but a strange feeling guttered through him anyway.
Abel really sucked at being selfless.
SIX
Dominance
Saturday arrived, but Seth didn’t. Instead, he called Rylie’s cell phone.
“I’m in North Harbor,” he said.
That was all the way on the east coast. Her eyebrows knitted. “What? Why?”
“The missing werewolf—Isoba Briggs. Scott asked me to go looking for him, since I’m the only hunter he knows that isn’t working for the Union. You know how I can sense werewolves and stuff.”
“You were supposed to come home today,” Rylie said, sitting on the edge of her bed. She almost missed.
“I know, but I’m the most capable of tracking Isoba down. I can’t help it.”
Her voice came out barely louder than a squeak. “You couldn’t help it last winter, either. You haven’t been back in a long time.”
“Come on, Rylie. It’s only until I find the werewolf. I’ll be back soon.” When she didn’t reply, he went on in a lower voice, like he was trying to soothe her. “You know I would rather be with you.”
She swallowed down her anger. The wolf stirred at the emotion, and she was dangerously close to growling. “Fine.”
“I’ll move as fast as I can.”
“Okay.”
“I can’t wait to see you,” he said, still in that deep voice that stirred feelings deep in Rylie’s midsection. That was how he talked to her on their long nights alone in the fields together, or when they locked themselves in her room for days on end.
She sighed. “Miss you.”
He apologized one more time. He sounded like he really meant it.
Then she hung up.
A day passed, and then two.
Gwyn came home from the city and wouldn’t tell Rylie what she had been doing.
A few werewolves left. A couple of others came in.
The days quickly turned into a week, and then the full moon came and went.
Still no Seth.
Rylie was frustrated by hanging around the ranch without him. It didn’t help that the Riese twins hadn’t gone back to California yet—Scott hadn’t given them the all-clear, so they were still sharing the house and its lone bathroom.
And something had changed with Abel.
He hadn’t been arguing with Levi as much. He was sticking closer to Rylie, too.
He also stared at her a lot.
Every time she turned around, he was watching her. Like when she was working on repairing a hole Pyper had ripped in the fence—he stayed on a nearby hill the whole time, like he expected her to run away. Or when she was cooking dinner for the other werewolves, he actually stuck around in the kitchen to help. He never helped with dinner.
Abel didn’t take his eyes off of her. Not even once.
The werewolves threw a party in the barn a few days after the full moon. They played loud music, stomped their feet, clapped their hands, and danced. Occasional howls—the kind that came from drunken human mouths—broke the night.
Rylie didn’t join them. She watched from the fields beyond the ring of light.
They had opened the barn door and turned on all of the lights, so she could see into the common area inside. Scott had given them several couches and a big TV, which was playing a horror movie. Bekah was dancing on the coffee table. Kiara piped music from her Mac Book through the big stereo. Rylie could smell the liquor from yards away.
Levi stumbled out of the barn.
“Rylie? Is that you?” he called, shielding his eyes to peer into the darkness. When Rylie didn’t step forward, he lifted his nose and sniffed. “Why are you hiding?”
“I’m not hiding,” she protested.
Levi followed the sound of her voice to the side of the barn, where she sat in the grass. He flopped beside her and propped his head up on his arms. He reeked of whiskey. “Seems you’re having fun out here.”
“I’m just enjoying the stars,” she said, picking at her thumbnail.
“Why don’t you ever spend time with the pack?”
Rylie frowned. “What are you talking about? I’m always with the pack, especially now that school’s over. I have nothing else to do.”
“Sure, you’re always around, but you don’t spend time with us. You’re usually off with Abel.”
“I’m not right now.”
“That’s b
ecause he’s dancing with Bekah,” Levi said.
Rylie’s head snapped up, and she searched the barn until her eyes fell on Levi’s sister. She had taken over the Mac Book and had found a cowboy hat somewhere. Abel was on the opposite side of the room—sitting on a leather couch to talk to Vanthe.
Her pounding heart slowed. “He is not.”
“No, but I wanted to know what you would do if he was.” His gaze was a little too sharp for someone who smelled very, very drunk. “Why do you care what he’s doing?”
“Why do you care? Are you dating Abel? Are you jealous of him?” Rylie snapped. “No. You’re not.”
“I care what the Alpha is doing. And yeah, before you ask, it is my business. The Alpha’s mating is everyone’s business.”
She had been prepared to storm away, but she froze. “Mating? What mating?”
Levi picked a piece of dry grass out of the earth and picked at his teeth. “Oh, Scott hasn’t mentioned that yet? Whoops.” The way he met her eyes full-on was werewolf body language. And it was just as disrespectful as anything Abel did. Even worse, it was a challenge to her dominance.
Her voice hardened. “Tell me what you’re talking about. Right now.”
Levi stood. He was only an inch or two taller than her, but he seemed to loom.
He flicked the grass to the ground. “You know, Alpha isn’t something you’re born into. Status as Alpha has to be earned. Or taken.”
Blood rushed through her ears as the wolf grew inside of her.
Her fingernails itched. She looked down, and was surprised to see blood spotting on the edges—the way it did when she was on the verge of changing into a wolf. She clenched her fists to keep them from falling out.
“Are you saying you want to fight me?” she asked, and there was a growling edge to her voice.
Before Levi could respond, someone else spoke.
“Having fun out here?” The words were light, but the tone wasn’t. Rylie smelled Abel on the breeze as he took position at her back.
Levi faltered, glancing between Rylie and Abel. Tension corded his neck with muscle. “We were just talking.”
Abel stepped in front of Rylie, blocking her view of Levi with his broad back.
