by Kat Quinn
Her gold-skinned arms wrap around my broad neck tenderly, but I feel like I’m being choked despite the gentle care. “Please don’t hurt me, Kieran,” she whispers. “I don’t think I could bear any more of this.”
Unable to endure it in silence any longer, I shift from my wolf to human, immediately dragging her into a crouched embrace almost tight enough to break bones.
“Oh, Fireball, I’m so fucking sorry. I fucked up. You’re right, I totally fucked up. Please, please forgive me. I’m the world’s biggest dumbass and we both know it. There’s no excuse big enough to make this okay, just… please. I’m so sorry.” All of it wrecks me, but the fact she thinks she hates me? I can’t even begin to allow it.
She stutters a sob against my shoulder, but I feel it deep in my gut. Dizzy’s the kind of woman that actively seeks out any reason to be happy, any excuse to keep her chin up and her heart going, but this? This is her out of reasons. I took them and pissed on them with no regard for how it would affect her, ignoring the fact that I could feel it happening all the same.
She’s right, I’ve known she was frustrated and angry and afraid, but I’d shoved it aside; thinking she’ll just get the fuck over it in time. Never mind that those feelings have only gotten bigger and fucking bigger the more I push her. Burying my hand deep into her hair, I cradle her head tightly against me and bargain with the moon for a chance to un-fuck this shit up.
We sit like that for a while, me kicking myself for my own tunnel-vision willfully blocking out the whole picture, her taking the time she needs to get that pent up frustration and helplessness out. She hasn’t known what to do, of course she hasn’t; she hasn’t had a pack to fight with in… years. How can anyone used to being alone have a heart prepared for conflict?
As her breathing evens out, I loosen my grip, stroking her back softly. Waiting. We got in this mess because I started pushing for more faster than she was ready to tackle. I’m not making the same goddamned mistake right after acknowledging it. Adapt and change, motherfucker, or you’ll lose her. Don’t you fucking lose her.
There’s a rustling, then a sniffle. Dizzy pulls back slightly and I let her, watching as she tucks a chunk of hair behind one ear before wiping at her nose with a sleeve. “What do we do, now? How do we make each other happy?” She asks.
“How do I make you happy, Fireball. Tell me, and I swear I’ll do it,” I beg. My voice just slightly strained, but determined.
“It’s not just about me,” she hazards a weak smile. “We gotta keep you happy too, Beefcake.”
My answer is immediate. “I need to keep you safe. If you’re safe, I’m happy. If the pack is protected, I’m happy. That’s all I need to keep going, and if you’re not happy then the pack isn’t safe.” I rush, “So, again, how do I make you happy? What do I need to do-I’ll do anything to make sure nothing ever happens, ever again.” There’s a bit of wildness in my eyes as I plead with her, I know it, but this goes deeper than just today. My stomach seizes as it’s gripped with fear, knowing full well how quickly things can go wrong, and how scarce chances to fix them are. I can not afford to fuck up.
“I want you to talk to me,” she starts. “No, talk with me. Not to or at me. We can’t keep keeping shit inside, or I can’t keep keeping shit inside. And you can’t keep screaming at me. I don’t care if it’s because I’m not landing a hit or because you’re dishing out orders in a tight situation,” I wince, fully aware of how out of line I was and kicking myself for losing control. “We check in, we stay honest with how and why we feel the way we do. I can’t take for granted that you know how I’m feeling and somehow magically understand what to do about that-I need to tell you what’s up and why. And you have to do the same. Agreed?”
I nod eagerly, “Agreed. Absolutely.”
“M’kay,” Dizzy pushes firmly against my bare chest to catch my eyes, crisp Autumn air sending a small breeze to remind me I’m naked without my wolf’s fur to protect against it. “Now, you. What do I need to do to keep you floating happy in the gravy goose? What’s got you wound up so tightly your tail may as well be a corkscrew pokin’ out your bum hole?” She smirks, and I feel the faintest pulse of amusement between our bond. It’s enough to give me just the smallest glimmer of hope that I didn’t let myself go too far. I’ll gladly have her make jokes at my expense if it helps.
Standing from my crouch, I pull her up and tentatively wrap an arm around her back, tucking the small woman into my side, trying to decide if this is too overbearing. Her arm crosses my back as well, face inquisitive as it tilts up to look me over.
Grimacing, I do my best to stuff down my instinct to seek some place less out in the open, hiding us both away from the world. “This isn’t my first pack,” I start. “When I said before not to underestimate the evil in this world? They were slaughtered. All in one day. Everyone.”
A pause. “Well... Fuck,” she whispers under her breath. “Yeah, that’d do it.”
Gulping, I start. “My father was Alpha before me, but I was being groomed to lead the pack soon. It was my responsibility to keep them all safe, but they were ripped apart, bit by bit, while I was away.” I look up at the changing leaves as we walk beneath them, “I’d been working in the human world at a farm, trying to improve pack resources and our reputation at the same time. Shifters get a bad rep from people who don’t understand us, and I figured keeping our name friendly in the community could only keep us protected. It just exposed us, instead.
“We used to run, move dens as needed, stay free in the wild. By building a home to stay in, I made the pack vulnerable in ways I didn’t expect.
“The locals were happy to have us nearby, sure, and we got on well, but it meant that we were locals now, too. The local shifter pack, the pack everyone knew the location of. The pack run by a wolf Alpha and his human wife. And their halfbreed son.
“There are those who think my birth is an abomination. Shifters and mages aren’t meant to mix, they say, and we’d heard rumors that there were attacks on other packs of any shifter thought to be with humans. Crows, foxes, even dragons-you name it, we’d all heard rumors from those passing through. But they’re just rumors… until they’re not.”
Dizzy tucks her arm over mine, lacing her fingers through the hand wrapped around her middle. “Geez, that’s… I can’t even imagine it.”
“Yeah, it’s horrible. One minute, I’m laughing, joking with Monty while we round up a herd of sheep at the farm. The next, I’m standing in mud thick with the blood and entrails of my entire pack, their screams long gone. I wasn’t there to hear them, but they ring through my head all the same. Every single one of them was torn to pieces, ripped limb-from-limb, skinned, tortured, viciously mauled to the point of being completely unrecognizable… even the fucking pups.” My nostrils flair at the putrid memory. “Some of them were so obliterated I could barely scent a trace. Who does that to a child?
“And me? I missed it because I was out there chasing fucking sheep. My pack, my whole family, ripped apart because I let my guard down and herded some goddamned livestock for someone else.
“If I’d prepared them better… Trained them, built up our defenses…” I shake my head, long having gone over every possible thing that could have been different.
“And the police? They didn’t give a shit. I tried to report it to the human authorities, but they refused to take it seriously. What did they care about a slaughtered pack of shifters? After all, we’re just filthy animals. Animals die in the wild all the time, that’s the natural order.” I snarl at the officer’s remembered remarks.
“I spent all night, all day, for weeks, tracking anything I could; powering my way through acres of land, destroying anything in my path. Or anyone. For most of it, there isn’t even a memory of the time. I was fully consumed with grief and rage, blindly determined to rip apart the whole world if it meant I’d paid the blood debt with whoever had done this. But there was nothing-no real trail at all; it was almost like they’d been obliterated b
y ghosts. Nothing that horrific should be impossible to follow the way they were.
“But I knew, I knew it was those pureblood elitist crazies that we’d been warned about. My entire pack was slaughtered just because I was born, and I wasn’t there to protect them. If I’d been there, I’d have shredded apart anyone who dared lay a finger on them.”
My fingers clench in the shirt she’s wearing, digging into the flesh of her stomach. “I know I’m being hard on you, especially, but I can’t deal with this again. There’s no way I’ll survive it. Monty and the guys are the only reason I’m not an absolute raving mad-wolf, out there in the wild, tearing apart anyone and anything I think could have been involved. And, I know from experience… My judgement isn’t exactly sound. There’s no pride or sense in how I handled myself afterwards. Even now, years later, if I catch a scent or hear a sound or imagine I see a glimpse out of the corner of my eye of one of my pack mates, it sends me into a ravenous rage. Every day is a battle against my instincts.” Stopping in our tracks, I look down to snare her full attention, silently willing her to understand and accept the pledge behind my obsession. “I need to know that you’ll be safe, no matter what. I will do anything and everything, I will give my very last breath to make sure you survive. I can not lose anyone else who is Mine.”
Dizzy’s small hands reach up high to rest on my broad shoulders as she swivels to face me completely, forehead etched with lines of pain, but eyes soft with understanding. “Kieran, I survived out on my own for more than half my life. Basically my entire life if you really examine my absentee mother and completely nonexistent father. I’ve survived tornadoes, sinkholes, fires, crazy ladies trying to chuck me into a basement, lightning strikes, a drain pipe full of bees, and damned near nonstop curses meant for other people. By myself. Without any extra training.” She stands on tip-toe, straining to reach behind my neck and stroke the hair at the base of my skull. “Can we make a deal? I promise I’ll work as hard as I can to improve and assure you I can hold my own, but you have to promise that when I’m getting frustrated you back up. And I know you can feel when that is, but I promise to start saying so if you’ll take it seriously. I can’t be pushed further, or it’s just going to push us further apart. I don’t want that, Beefcake. I like you too much.” Stretching, she pulls me down into a kiss.
From the wooden deck, Lin lets out a wolf whistle. Without breaking away from Mine, I fully extend my arm to flip him the fuck off, smiling against Dizzy’s lips.
“And another thing,” Dizzy pulls back, keeping me in view. “We should probably spend more time like this. Well, probably not with you naked in the back yard but like… together. And talking. So we don’t get out of sync and drive each other up a wall again. No more secrets, especially scary ones that might mean we have to run screeching from stranger danger.” Dizzy stops looking at me while talking, eyes drifting away to follow imaginary butterflies as she mostly just thinks out loud. “Plus, we’re all in this together, but there’s not so much an us and together that works out if it keeps turning out there’s still a heck of a lot of important stuff to learn about you. Well, not just you. I feel like I’m one more tragic backstory away from getting a free smoothie on my tragic backstory punch card.” She smiles to herself, then grimaces almost immediately afterwards. “Oops, inside thoughts, Dizzy. Those are inside thoughts.” Her eyes widen, “Stop talking out loud, Dizzy, they’re going to think you’re two buckets of crazy in a one bucket an hour zone.” Silence. She nods, pleased with herself.
“I still heard that,” Zeke calls from the deck, both him and Lin leaning over the banister, already dressed in workout gear, watching us.
“Damn it, Zeke!” Dizzy shouts, “Don’t blow my cover!”
I chuckle, just happy the mood’s been lifted between us. Taking a moment to simply savor her scent, sweet and smoky like burnt caramel, with an earthy, floral background. Like jasmine flowers on the windowsill of a sweets shop. It soothes me in ways that go beyond primal.
Arms still lazily slung around her, I bury my face into the crook of her neck and inhale deeply. “So, how do you feel about a little pre-breakfast training now?” I ask, determined to stick with our deal and check in. “Zeke recommended we try some things differently, and I promise to keep the overbearing shit to a minimum.”
“To keep you happy? Anything.” She strokes her fingers through my wavy orange hair, breezes of contentment billowing softly through our bond.
Thank fuck.
22. Zeke
“Attack me.”
“When Kieran said we were trying something different, I thought he meant more than just switching up partners again.” She rolls her eyes. Dizzy is skeptical.
“It is. Attack me,” I repeat.
“Ughhhhh. Fine.” Whatever. You said you’d try your best so you’d best get to bestin’ it all up in here, woman. Zeke’s a big boy, he can gobble up any punishment you try to dish to him, and you can totally whip up a butt kick casserole. Probably. Definitely. Yep, definitely. Don’t doubt, just do. Bring the pain.
She exhales loudly, then steps forward, arm wound back, hand open flat. I don’t move-don’t even flinch-as her slap ripples the air before me and completely misses its target, following through its arc and looping back around to inflict itself upon her instead.
“Cool. Cool. So, I did what you said. Thanks. Next?” Her eyes burn with anger directed squarely towards me. I don’t mind. She doesn’t see the full experiment-that was just the control. I need a baseline.
Idiot. Me? Him? I don’t know. But someone’s definitely an idiot. Stay calm, Dizzy, too quick to lose your shit after you said you wouldn’t. Alive, awake, alert, enthusiastic, homegirl. You just need to–
Not waiting for her to finish her thought and refocus, I throw forward a fist, followed by a roundhouse kick, and a leaping attempt to grapple. Automatically, with confirmed zero thought about her actions, Dizzy easily blocks and dodges all of my advances. Despite having a zero-point track record when it comes to landing blows on others, Dizzy has an almost perfect defensive streak when it comes to protecting herself. Which has only improved with recent refinements during practice.
“Good. Now I want you to wait a moment. No need to move unless you feel so inclined,” I inform her, stepping easily out of her reach.
“…. Surrrrrrrrre.”
Extracting a spell from one of my tattoos, I hurl it with deadly force towards an unsuspecting Connor. If it hits its target, I run the risk of either maiming or murdering a member of our unit, but the risk seems necessary to prove a theory.
It’s only halfway left my fingertips before I’m thrown to the ground forcefully, Dizzy having jumped feet-first at my chest, knocking the wind from me as I slam heavily onto the ground. The force she hits me with propels her forward into a roll, from which she springs and dives directly at Connor, colliding with him and twisting in midair, her hold on him ensuring she lands beneath as a cushion. The air around them shimmers just slightly with a shield. A tree beyond them explodes into splinters.
All of this happens in less than a moment, Dizzy’s speed and accuracy beyond impressive, especially considering she could not possibly have known beforehand what the inscription I’d drawn from would be used for. Even with that knowledge, I doubt my own ability to simultaneously react swiftly enough to disable its caster and save its victim.
“The fuck, Zeke?! What was that for?!” Dizzy screams from the ground, frantically searching over a very confused Connor for any signs of injury.
“Proving a theory. I was correct. Now, your training can begin.”
23. Monty
Bounding down the stairs after a quick shower, the rich, spicy, sweet smell of french toast casserole just barely starting to weave with a hint of pleasantly toasted smokiness lets me know I’m just in time. A few more minutes and the custard would be more of a firm set rather than a soft, silken jiggle. Though a few crispy bread edges never hurt anyone in my opinion.
Reaching into the drawe
r where my lobster pot holders normally await, I’m a little surprised. Rather than being greeted by my trusty cloth crustaceans, there are two bright red silicone grabber… mitten… things. With googly eyes glued to them. Large ones. Knowing it’s more important to pull breakfast out before it burns rather than waste time looking for my old mitts, I slip the rubbery things onto my hands and open the oven door. Looks like I’m wearing two bright red sock puppets to take that french toast casserole out.
“Has anyone seen my pot holders?” I shout over my shoulder, carefully placing the hot baking dish on a metal trivet.
There’s a small chuckle from behind me. “Why don’t you ask your new friends there. With eyes like those, they’d have to have seen something, right?” Lin drawls.
“Oh, are you sure I couldn’t just ask you directly, Lin?” Turning, I cock my eyebrow at him. Lin, of course, affects a pose of perfect innocence.
Head tucked slightly down, both eyebrows raised, one shoulder lightly jutted forward. He straightens his black tie slightly before fastening the buttons at the end of his long white sleeves. “Of course you could, but what makes you think I’d have an answer for you? When could I possibly have witnessed the culprit secret away with your little mitts, hmm? I’ve been quite busy in the shower, I assure you.”
“I see, well then, guess there’s only one option.” Turning my red-gloved hand so the googly eyes face me, I ask “Well, what did you see?” I tilt my hand so it’s like the puppet’s head is cocked to the side, then move its mouth to my ear, nodding both my head and its. “Ah, yes, I see, I see.” Lin snickers as quietly as he can under his breath while I look straight at the man. “Yes, it seems pot holders don’t actually have vocal cords, so I probably won’t be able to learn its secrets. Too bad. I liked those lobster mitts.”
