River Wolf (20 page)

“He?” Colby froze, her hands on Trent’s ruff where she’d been petting him.

Yes, far too much fun in poking at her. “Yes. Colby Jensen, this is Trent…who should be home and in bed.” Not only because it was late, but because he was alone. Where the hell were his Hunters?

The pup sneezed and then made a low half-barking sound mimicking laughter. Despite the tension in the air, Trent seemed very content to settle himself in Colby’s lap. Since she’d sat on the ground to greet him, she was trapped.

“When you say he, this isn’t some grown ass man sitting on my lap, right?”

“Language,” he said gently. “Trent’s only ten.”

A bark of reproach.

“You aren’t eleven until next month, and you won’t be that if you keep scampering off without your keepers.”

“Oh, c’mon. Like you never ran away from your parents to explore?” Colby taking his side had Trent preening.

“Of course I did, I was also not as…” He didn’t finish the sentence. Trent and Colby tipped their heads to the side at nearly the same moment. The comical echo in their behavior curved his lips. He’d not been invaluable to the pack when he was a kid. His Alpha grandfather and healer grandfather had each been in fine health. No one expected anything of Brett other than to be a child. Trent was the only wolf with healer potential they knew in Hudson River.

“I think he forgot we were here,” Colby said, sotto voce to Trent. The boy let out another barking laugh, and hopped off her lap. He took a couple of steps away and began his shift. The crunch of bone and slipping fur and muscle shattered Colby’s amusement.

“Oh my God,” she reached forward, but Brett captured her hands lightning fast and tugged her away.

“No touching. He’s fine.”

“But he—” Another bone cracked as his legs realigned and she winced. “He has to be in pain.”

“It does hurt, but it’s nowhere near as excruciating as you are thinking. Touching someone mid-shift can distract them, particularly children and, even if it didn’t—the contact on raw skin and muscle…”

With a last pop, the boy knelt in front of them, naked as the day he’d been born and he grinned. Lean and small, he’d grown over an inch in height since winter, if he took after his older brother, he’d be on the smallish side for another year or two, then shoot up like a weed.

Gaping at Trent, she relaxed against Brett’s grip and leaned into him.

“Hi,” Trent said, standing and thrusting his hand out to her. “I heard you found out about us and I wanted to say hi.”

Loosening his grip, Brett waited. She’d been tossed a number of curveballs throughout the day, but she’d borne up to each and every one. Or she had, it seemed, until seeing Trent change.

“You’re a wolf,” her whisper was three parts awe and one part utter disbelief. Maybe she’d simply played along with their discussion though he’d scented zero dishonesty. Her absolute refusal to believe she was a wolf, however, was not one he could let go. Not when it endangered her.

“Yes, ma’am.” Trent didn’t withdraw his hand, demonstrating a remarkable show of patience for one so young.

With caution, Colby straightened and extended her hand, only to hesitate and glance at Brett. “It’s okay to touch now?”

The knot in his gut loosened. Seeing a shift could be impossibly hard on those not ready to acknowledge its reality. More so, if it had been he who had been changing and no one had been there to stop her from trying to
help
him. “It’s fine.”

Accepting Trent’s hand, she shook it slowly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You already met me, just not officially.” The reminder of the barbecue had Colby sitting abruptly.

“That’s right. Was everyone at the picnic…?”

“All wolves.” Trent beamed. “You smell great by the way and yes, Brett, I know I’m not supposed to say that to people, but Colby’s not a people. She’s like us.”

A sickly look passed over her expression. “Why do you say that?” Suspicion and doubt echoed in the question. Brett remained standing even as Trent perched on the edge of the loveseat next to her.

“Because you smell like a wolf. Not exactly,” he explained, then tapped the side of his nose. “To me you definitely do. I noticed it right away at the party.”

Glancing sharply at the young healer’s earnest expression, Brett scowled. “Why didn’t you say anything then?”

“I thought you knew.” A shrug. As simple and unremarkable a reason as any. “You’re a wolf, though you are different from most of them. I can feel your wolf, too.” The last remark earned another frown from Brett. How could he feel her…?

“I—” She leaned against the cushions. “I can’t see how this is possible.”

“Trent,” Brett took a seat on the table in front of them, studying the boy intently. “What do you mean you can feel her wolf?”

“It’s hard to ‘splain. Gillian says we can hear the wolves inside people.” His face scrunched. “Not hear them, but…”

“Sense when the wolf is in distress?” Brett had heard Hatcher say it enough when he’d needed Brett to settle someone down after a grave injury. When the body went into shock, a wolf’s animal side could and sometimes did take over. A wounded animal was difficult for even a powerful healer to contain.

“Yes.” The kid bounced excitedly and they both looked at Colby.

Shock had dilated her eyes, but they were still perfectly amber. No gold sheen. Her wolf should be asleep…

“Even now?” Brett checked with the child. “You can feel her wolf is in distress?”

“Yes. It’s why I came. I—” He reddened down to the roots of his hair. “I know I’m not supposed to sneak away, but the Hunter was talking to my parents about the Call and they were arguing.” Shame rolled off him in waves.

Colby reached over and clasped Trent’s hand again and covered it with her own. Her need to comfort even suffering her own confusion and upset offered without any reservation filled him with pride and admiration. Unwilling to let the moment pass without acknowledging it, he covered their joined hands with his. The power surge hitting him and his wolf rocked him. He felt his eyes change and though his skin didn’t sprout fur, he could feel it rolling over him as though his wolf surfaced over the top of him and the animal looked at Colby.

Wolf gazes colliding, Brett understood what the wolf—no wolves—were about to do before he did. “Shift.” The word pressed past his clenched teeth and she screamed. The animal within fought to free itself. Back rigid, Colby threw her head backward as though every muscle in her body locked too tight. The spine splitting wrench pulled Trent with her and the boy’s eyes widened, but he didn’t let go. Brett’s hand seemed fused to the top of theirs as power pulled from his pack and from them filtered like wildfire. The summons even more powerful than what he’d sent out earlier.

An Alpha’s Call could not be ignored. Trent broke free and shifted on his own. Colby’s right arm twisted and Brett forced himself to release her. Riding the wave, he shoved the table out from behind him then cleared the furniture. The stone floor was a problem.

When she wrenched sideways, he seized her and carried her to the grass. Every second his hands were on her, electricity zinged through him with flashes of pain. Unwilling to hurt her any longer than necessary, he set her down. She continued to twist, writhing as her skin rippled. Throwing a glance to Trent who tried to ease forward with low sounds of distress escaping his throat, Brett dropped to one knee and ripped off her clothes. Getting them out of the way had to help.

A crunch of bone warned him and, though he understood the sounds, he flinched inside. Colby’s wolf wanted out and they’d given it the strength and shown her the way. Staying close, he fought the urge to hold her. Holding her wouldn’t help, but his wolf pushed forward. Throwing his head back, Brett joined his wolf and howled. The Call resonated, his pack answered.

From Pennsylvania through New York to New Jersey and Connecticut, his wolves answered. He’d shared his strength with them and they returned it threefold. When Colby looked at him with terrified eyes, he met her gaze and held him.

“I’m here,” he swore to her. “You can do it.” He wouldn’t abandon her. “Don’t fight each other.” Then it dawned on him, the right words. They’d been there the whole time. “Colby,” he whispered, leaning closer as she strained. “The wolf needs your help.
Help
each other.”

Something clicked inside him and her scent changed, redoubled and suddenly with a final cry, she changed. Her skin slid away and her bones and muscles reassembled themselves and fur sprouted. The horrible moment of indecision passed and her wolf stood under the starry sky for the first time.

The animal let out a low sound, and when Brett reached out to her—she bared her teeth and lunged for his throat. Catching her scruff, he narrowly avoided her teeth. Colby he would be gentle with, Colby he had patience for—the wolf however? Her, not so much.

Lifting her from the ground, he exerted his strength and locked gazes with her. She would yield. Another snap, but his wolf brooked none of it. When she ceased struggling, he lowered her to the ground. She stumbled a moment, then turned on Trent and snapped at him.

“No.” Brett’s power washed out and the wolf snarled. She paced away from him, then back. Every time her gaze collided with his, she lowered it. Lunging away suddenly, she raced toward the trees. Brett didn’t have to take a step. The wolves stepped forward. Every member of his pack in the area surrounded them—including Luc. A brute of a brown haired wolf with a noticeable limp. He’d gotten his wish to shift. The brute snapped at her, sending her back to Brett. No anger or malice marked the action, so Brett forgave it.

“You will have to humble the wolf much as you would a recalcitrant youth who does not want to obey or sees no need to obey.”

Salvatore’s advice echoed in the back of his head. He folded his arms and waited. In a pack, all members disciplined the young. It was how they protected themselves and their future. Offspring knew it wouldn’t just be having their parents told on them, they could face punishment from any who witnessed their transgressions.

Colby’s wolf tried to bolt in another direction, but Owen sent her back. One more try, and a Hunter bracketed her and sent her away with a snarl. Frustration rolled off her as she charged toward Brett, but he didn’t bend no matter how much he wanted to hold and stroke her. Reassurance would come, he promised himself. He would get to take care of her.

But first…

Still fighting to hold his gaze, she finally sank to her belly and panted. The frenetic respiration as much a sign of her distress as the snapping.

“Come here,” he ordered her. The longing to go to her flooded his wolf, but even the animal understood the need. Too confined for too long, too cut off from anything resembling pack, and Colby’s wolf was feral. She had to be humbled enough to trust them, to trust their wolves… “Come, now.”

On the last word, she whined a complaint but edged forward on her belly. Trent started forward again, but Brett cut him off with a wave of his hand. The young healer wanted to help. So did Brett. They were helping. Closer his pack edged, maintaining a circle. She had nowhere else to go.

Rising, she padded forward back low and tail down. Two steps in front of him she whined again, and inched downward. The moment she began to roll, Brett fell to his knees and pulled the tense wolf to him.

“I have you,” he told her. “I claim you.” The last piece of the puzzle slammed into place as he pulled her into his pack. She could curse him later for making the choice, but her wolf needed them and Luc had been right…

…Brett needed her.

Throwing his head back, he howled and his wolves joined him in the song welcoming a new, trembling cry amongst theirs. Colby shuddered, and her wolf burrowed against him. No matter what happened, he was never letting her go.

Mine.

S
he was a dog
. Years seemed to have gone by since her body caught fire, tore itself apart, then reassembled as the Shaggy D.A. Laying on the shady stone because it was cooler than the sun splashed grass, she kept her back to Brett and Luc, patently ignoring their conversation. The two men had ruined her life.

No, correction. She’d ruined her life for the two men. Irritation razored through her system and she flicked her ears at the stupid bug buzzing her head. How many evenings had she sat on the porch with Brett and not once had the insects bothered her? Become a dog—oh God, what if she got fleas? Did wolves get fleas? Did they have something they did to prevent them? If she got fleas, would she have them as a human?

If she could ever turned human again. Some rational part of her mind scoffed at the litany. Then again, the rest of her stuck her tongue out at the rational part of her mind. What could possibly be normal or rational about being a
dog
?

Wolf.

Setting her chin on her paws, she sighed.

“Any change at all?” Luc’s voice drifted over her. Even with the buzzing of the insects, she caught every word of their conversation.

“No, and she won’t have anything to do with any of us. Not even Gillian.” Foreign emotion tinged Brett’s voice. The hollow sound held her attention and her heart ached. “Trent wants to see her, but considering she snaps at any other wolf who approaches, I think it’s better if we wait.”

Hmmph.
She wouldn’t snap at the child. It was hardly his problem if she’d turned into a dog and Gillian drove her nuts. She was a wonderful, sweet, and kind person. Everything about her seemed the perfect combination to love, but it was the same protective instinct that made her want the woman to go away. Her foul temper was no place for her to be.

“He’s a kid.” Luc’s words elongated as though he stretched, and pain seemed to darken the last syllable.

“You should probably be resting.”

“Dude, you send me back to that fucking bed rest and I will challenge you just for fucking kicks.” Odd how much affection wound through those words.

“Really?” So very dry with hints of the real Brett. Another sigh escaped her. She didn’t want him to sound hollow. “You let me know how that works out for you.”

“You’re not going to kill me.” Luc chuckled. “You like me too much.”

“My wisdom and decision making seem to be under question these days.” By whom? Outrage poured into her. Who made him doubt himself?

“Fuck them,” Luc said echoing her inner thoughts. “Seriously, you have a shit ton on your plate. Yes, don’t start with the you’re Alpha and failed them, you didn’t. You might have failed yourself and the only person who can forgive that is you. You didn’t back down from protecting them. When the killings got out of hand and you lost your grandfather, you reached out to another pack, hat in hand and humbled yourself to bring in assistance. Most of the yahoos around here may not remember or completely understand what that means.
I
do. Since some jackass appointed me second, I’m telling you right now, cut yourself some slack or I’ll beat your ass.”

“The love, it fills me with no end of delight.” His unique brand of droll mockery amused her. Lifting her head, she glanced over her shoulder. The firelight played over his features, leaving him more in shadow than light. When she’d refused to come in earlier, he’d built a fire and settled into his chair…the same chair she’d read about her classes in.

Oh crap. Her classes. How would she get her RN if she couldn’t become human again? How would she be able to tug him from the shadows if she didn’t have hands?

“Too bad, dude. You picked me.”

“Actually, you picked you.” Brett’s gaze locked on hers. He hadn’t been looking at Luc at all. The odd weight blanketing her, was it his attention? She tilted her head, then lowered her ears. Her memory seemed…lacking was the best word. Missing pieces. They’d talked for hours about the wolves and he’d told her she was latent. Patiently he answered her questions, then turned them back on her. He wanted to meet her mother.

Oh.
Mom.
Won’t that be a conversation? Hi Mom, remember me? The errant, bad seed of a daughter. Well, see I have this little problem. Turns out I’m a wolf. What haven’t you been telling me all these years?

“Come again?”

“You said you need to be needed. I need you to be my second. Now you’re needed. See how that works?”

Why didn’t I know this?
Somewhere inside her came a shrug. Brett had said something about her wolf sleeping. Did that mean the wolf had been with her all her life? She simply didn’t know it? How weird was that?

“If you want to get some sleep,” Luc said quietly. “I’ll stay and keep an eye on her. No one will bother her. The Hunters are all closer tonight. About a hundred of the pack has already arrived.”

“They’ll all be in by tomorrow. I’m not going anywhere. Where Colby goes, so do I.” The sentence jerked her attention away from her mother. Glancing at Brett again, she wanted to frown. No he didn’t. He’d followed her. Talked to her. Petted her and twice tried to pick her up. Both times she’d snarled at him and growled until he put her ass down. She was not some pansy to be carried around all the time.

But he hadn’t…
Wait a damn minute.
Standing, she shook her head and it had the effect of shaking the rest of her and damn near through her off balance. Once she steadied, she turned and stalked toward the pair. Though Luc leaned forward, Brett remained in his seat and nothing in his posture changed yet…

She sneezed. Something in his scent had. She couldn’t pinpoint it. Too many scents from the wood smoke to the citronella. Under all those layers, however, was the masculine scent of Brett. She’d know it anywhere. An image of rubbing her nose into the guest pillow the first day she arrived rippled through her.

All her life, she’d possessed a keen sense of smell. Sometimes too keen since she’d suffered from allergies. The first time she met Luc popped through her mind unbidden. His frustration and pain had been palpable as though she could taste it. Switching her attention to Luc for a moment, she took a step toward him.

Her nose quivered. The sensation tickled, but she tried to ignore it. The same things she’d experienced in the hospital room washed over her now. He was in pain and frustrated.

The frustration was his problem, but the pain. Another step brought her within arm’s reach. The tension around her ratcheted, but she shook her head again. The buzzing in her ears returned and she needed something from Brett, but Luc’s pain bugged her.

One more step and she’d be able to rub against his outstretched leg. Images of his x-rays on the light box. His left leg had contained the broken femur, dislocated knee and fractured tibia. The femur had been the worst injury, and they’d done surgery to place a pin to hold steady…sometime after arriving, they’d removed Luc’s casts. The right leg had a fracture as well but minor compared to the damage to his left leg.

At his side, she braced for him to grab her the way Brett had every time she’d approached. While she liked being in Brett’s arms, she couldn’t always control her reaction to the contact. It made her downright bitchy. When Luc’s hands remained where they were, she rubbed her muzzle against his left leg.

Brett made a low sound, the growl vibrated through her and she jerked her face from the injury to meet his glare. Snapping at him, she wished she could tell him to wait. Luc needed help.

“Dude, I’m not doing a damn thing. I swear.” Luc’s low-voiced profession of innocence fell on deaf ears. Brett’s scent grew more acrid, the acidic nature burning her nostrils.

Dropping her tail, she considered how best to approach the issue when she had no way to
say
anything. Fucking Darwin. Evolution should have taken into account wolves and humans becoming wolves. Speech was a vital part of life.

Touch
. Hadn’t Brett mentioned something about touch in the kitchen? Backing away from Luc, she circled the table and rubbed against Brett’s legs. His growling ceased and the burning scent went away. So she paced back and rubbed against his legs again.

His hand came down against the back of her neck. Damn. He really was touchy feely. Why hadn’t she noticed this before? Pushing up on her hind legs, she rested her paws against his lap. Brett stroked his hand along her neck and she let him. Wagging her tail once, she glanced at Luc then back to Brett. Was he okay with her going to Luc now?

His hand tightened against her scruff. In case he planned on lifting her so humiliatingly again, she bared her teeth. Leaning forward, Brett put his nose right to hers. His wolf shone in his eyes and her heart sped up. She knew him and more, he knew her.

The wagging of her tail accompanied by his shifting position threatened her balance once more, but he steadied her when she would have fallen. Dropping back to four feet, she leaned into his legs and stretched her nose toward Luc’s leg. The femur wasn’t fusing correctly and if she could just…
contact.

Picturing the break as best she could remember it, she spread her weight out and leaned into both men. Luc hissed out a breath. “Fuck me. What the hell are you…”

Brett’s hand came to rest along her back and the ragged push grew easier. “Don’t move.” She had no idea who he was talking to, but she could only concentrate on the bone, picturing it together, tightening and aligning as it should. An audible snap rippled through her and she relaxed into Brett, collapsing. The tension was gone, the scent of pain though fresh and sharp also faded swiftly.

Sliding out of the chair, Brett’s arms cuddled her and then she was in his lap and her head pillowed on his shoulder. It was as good a spot as any to sleep. The whirling her mind quieted. Thank God the buzzing was gone.

“All those nice things I said about you.” Luc’s ragged voice prodded her lulling mind. “I take them back…bi—”

“Be very careful about your word choice.” Ominous warning rang in every syllable rumbling from the chest beneath her.

“Fine—the little she-witch fixed my leg. Fuck. Me.” He groaned, but even with the theatrics she could hear the relief under the pain.

“I got that.” Then a long pause stretched out, the silence pregnant with so many possibilities. She wanted to see what they were doing but she was so very tired.

“Brett, she’s a healer.”

“Her wolf is like mine. She’s like me.” Brett stroked her back and all the growling darkness vanished from his tone to be replaced by wonder. The soft massage eased her into a half-state of bliss. “That’s what Trent said. I didn’t get it, until just now.”

“Okay.” Then Luc added, “That’s two you owe me.”

She didn’t catch Brett’s response. Nose full of his scent, she stopped trying to listen and slipped into dreams of running side by side with a wolf she couldn’t see. A wolf who would always be there, a wolf who could find her anywhere. Her wolf.

Her…something.

L
uc crashed
in the guest room while Brett carried a drowsy and pliant wolf up to his bedroom. He still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the last twenty-four hours. When Colby had finally relented and gone to Luc first, Brett’s wolf had escalated to a near killing rage. Only Luc’s absolute stillness and refusal to reach for her kept him from acting on the urge. Reminding himself one was his best friend and the other a traumatized wolf had helped, but only a little. Then she’d rubbed against him and his wolf settled so swiftly, it answered a question lingering in his mind.

Mate.
Of course she was his mate. His fascination with her and urge to keep her existed from the beginning. One knee onto the bed, he settled her carefully. Since her brutal shift, the wolf had resisted him and offered him challenge at every turn. She didn’t want to be touched, she didn’t want to be spoken to, and she wanted to run, but he didn’t dare let her disappear not until Colby resurfaced.

Anger, confusion and despair rolled off her in alternating waves. The speed heal on Luc may have consequences for both she and Luc, but he had to trust her instincts. Healers were as different a breed of wolf as Alphas. They did what had to be done. Stripping off his shirt, he settled it over her. The action soothed him. Her resistance to touch kept his scent off her.

Claiming her for Hudson River, pulling her into the pack wasn’t the same as claiming her for himself.
Soon
. He promised his wolf, but not until she was ready. Not until his enticing, stubborn lady dared him to finish the pursuit—when she was ready to claim him.
If she’s never ready…
Her commitment phobia hadn’t been lost on him. Shaking his head, he dismissed the thought. If it took one year or twenty, he was a patient wolf.

After locking the bedroom door and checking on her one more time, he headed into the bathroom. His skin itched, and his wolf paced restlessly within. What they needed was a long, hard run. Nothing he could afford to take while Colby remained in a precarious position. Once or twice, her scent changed and he’d thought he’d seen a glimmer of something
more
in the wolf’s gaze.

Standing on the hot sheeting water, he braced his hands on the tile and concentrated on letting the tension roll off him. His pack drew closer and closer. He could feel the weight of them, the excitement and even the trepidation. A full gathering hadn’t occurred since the funeral bonfires. Even then, some wolves held quieter ceremonies if they couldn’t arrive in Story Pointe.

The ache in the muscles between his shoulders began to relax. It would be good to see everyone, catch up, and hear about their lives. It would be good to be
pack
again.

After sluicing away the soap and shaving, he allowed the shower to beat on his back for a few moments longer then shut it off. Toweling himself dry, he padded out of the bathroom. Colby’s wolf hadn’t moved beyond sprawling further, nose buried in the pillows. She made an exceptional wolf, all lean, long boned and rangy, with thick, almost shaggy hair. The length made her seem bulkier than she was and the color was deep brown with hints of red. A remarkable and unusual wolf…much like the woman.