Chapter 1
Emery, are you illiterate, or just too stupid to understand when someone wants nothing at all to do with you?
Hands shoved in his pockets, Emery
stared down at the neon orange words painted in the brilliant white snow, his heart
hammering erratically while other wolves gave a wide berth as they passed. A
few snickered, but one called out to him: “Give it up, man. It’s beyond sad
now.”
The wolf was right, and Emery knew it.
He’d managed two weeks without leaving another note for his mate to find, but
late last night, after the snow stopped and the rest of the town was silent,
he’d crept back to the square. With the way the weather had been changing
lately, it was probably the final snow of the season, his last chance to leave
a message in what he was coming to think of as “their spot.” A glutton for
punishment, that’s what he was. The whole time he was painting his question in
the snow, he’d told himself he was being an absolute fool by hoping his mate would
reconsider wanting to meet him.
That message had been drawn through
with several angry black lines and stomped with heavy bootprints—clearly
conveying his mate’s state of mind. The wolf wasn’t just annoyed now, but angry
that Emery kept trying to get to know them, which was made perfectly clear by
the second line of his response.
If you were the only other wolf left in
the universe, I’d choose to die alone rather than ever spend a single second in
your company. Now leave me the fuck alone before I tell the people you’re
running from where you are and how to find you.
Shaking, Emery felt the first stirrings
of a panic attack kicking in. He knew. His mate knew who he really was. Kicking
at the snow, he scattered it, destroying the message, and leaving little more
than splatters of orange randomly dotting the trampled mess. Glancing around,
he saw several wolves watching from the sidewalks, others with their heads
together, whispering. At least they stopped short of pointing at him.
Some faces he recognized; others he
didn’t, and one…
He couldn’t breathe. Clawing at the
zipper of his coat, he tried to undo it, but his field of vision was narrowing,
and his hands fumbled like he forgot what to do. Finally, he just yanked it off
over his head, nearly choking himself in his haste. The T-shirt he wore beneath
offered no real protection from the elements, not that he cared, as he let the
coat slip from his fingers.
Blinking, he struggled to focus,
telling himself there was no way in hell the wolf watching from the sidewalk
was Sydney. Sy was dead. There was no coming back from getting one’s head taken
off by a tow chain.
Logic wasn’t enough to slow his
heartbeat or still the twitching in his fingers and the panicked urge to run
and hide somewhere no one would think to look for him. Even when the guy moved
and sunlight struck his hair, showing shades of reds and golds shimmering in
brown strands that weren’t dull like Emery’s, it was difficult to separate what
he was seeing from his memories.
“Come on, let’s get you out of here.”
The voice in his ear, and the soft
touch on his arm, now that grounded him. Only one person in his life had ever sounded
like that, and he was grateful as hell for Zane’s appearance now. The small
wolf picked up his coat and handed it back to him. Emery hugged it to his chest
when he did. He’d have stood there like his feet were glued to the snow if Zane
hadn’t taken charge and steered him away from the square and the remnants of
those spray-painted words.
Zane said nothing as they walked. He
just steered Emery down the street and around the corner, directing him the
whole four blocks back to the apartment he and Dalton shared. It was a good
thing too, because Emery couldn’t manage to get his brain to kick in gear and
take over. Even inside, it was Zane who propelled him to sit at the kitchen
table, Zane who put the kettle on for tea, and Zane who hung up both their coats
before getting the mugs ready. His one pause was to pull out his cell phone and
type a simple text, probably to his mates.
“They threatened to tell the Outlaws
how to find me,” Emery said softly. “In their message in the snow, they said to
leave them alone, or they’d tell the people I was running from how to find me.”
“How’d they find out about them and who
you really are?”
Emery looked at him and threw his hands
up. “I don’t know. None of you would have told them.”
“Who else knows?”
“Just your dad and Cormac, and they
wouldn’t have said anything either.”
“You’ve never performed under your true
name, and we’ve never performed anywhere near Outlaw territory,” Zane mused.
“They’d have had to contact different packs until they’d found someone who
could identify you.”
“Which means even if they didn’t tell
them where I was yet, they know I’m still alive, they know what I’ve changed my
name to, and they know I’m a member of the band,” Emery said, the ramifications
of that hitting like a crowbar to the back of the knees. He was glad he was
sitting, or he’d have wound up on the kitchen floor. “I can’t perform anymore.”
“Bullshit,” Zane said as he rounded the
table to hug him from behind. “Touring wouldn’t be safe, but performing? There
are plenty of wolves right here who would love to see us play, and if we want
to share our music with others, we can put it up on a streaming service. Was
kinda leaning in that direction anyway. No way I could just leave my pups for
days at a time, nor would I want to take them out into the human world with
me.”
“You’re right,” Emery admitted. “I
can’t picture you getting in that RV without them, but to take them wouldn’t be
safe. Here is safe. It’s the safest place I’ve ever known.”
“Me too.”
The scent of lemon-ginger tea soon
filled the small kitchen, and Emery inhaled deeply as steam rolled off the mug
Zane set in front of him.
“If we want to keep it safe, keep you
safe, you can’t leave any more messages for your mate,” Zane cautioned.
When they’d arrived on pack lands five
months before, the thought of leaving a message for a mate would have had him
laughing and mocking whoever had suggested it. Now, his wolf whined at the
thought, his chest felt tight, and his stomach hurt. Tears made his eyes itch
and he had to stare into his tea to keep Zane from seeing them.
“I know,” he whispered, voice trembling
as he said it. It hurt. It really fuckin’ hurt. His wolf whined, mournful, and
Emery gave up holding back his tears—not that he had to with Zane. His best
friend sat down beside him and hugged him, stroking his hair and letting him
cry himself out.
“You have to promise me, okay?” Zane
said softly once Emery settled down and drank a few sips of his tea. “You have
to say it, so I know you won’t break it.”
He’d had to do a lot of hard things in
his life, and while it wasn’t the hardest, it destroyed something in him that he’d
thought his family had kicked out of him a long time ago. Looking Zane in the
eye, Emery let out a shaky breath. “I promise I won’t leave them any more
messages. I won’t ask them to give me a chance and I’ll stop trying to find out
who they are.”
Taking his hands, Zane gave them a
little squeeze. “I hate that I had to ask you to do that. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s all on me.
I’m a shitty person. No amount of name changing can erase that. Whoever my mate
is, they’re right to protect themselves. I have too much evil blood running
through my veins.”
“If you were evil, you would have
stayed with them,” Zane pointed out. “You’d have waded into that sloth of bears
and slaughtered relentlessly, not warned them of what was coming and told them
how to find the Outlaws before they crossed onto the sloth’s land. You saved
lives and risked your own to do it. Now your mate is risking your life without
any consideration for what you might be running from. It isn’t fair. You’ve
made mistakes. Who hasn’t? But you’ve been working hard to learn how to do
better. Isn’t that supposed to be what’s important? That we grow from our
experiences and avoid making the same mistakes?”
Emery nodded. “It’s supposed to be.”
“Then keep learning and keep working to
do better every day. Don’t let the way they’ve chosen to act turn you into the
wolf you never wanted to be,” Zane said.
“I won’t,” Emery promised. “Not when I
have the chance to be an awesome uncle to an adorable little pup.”
“Pups.”
Freezing, Emery stared slack-jawed at
Zane. “What?”
“We had our first appointment with Doc
Washington this morning. He said my hormone levels indicate that there is more
than one pup. We don’t know how many more yet, and my mates are kinda freaking
out about it, but it sounds like I’m going to be an extremely fluffy bunny.”
Snickering, Emery had to admit the
image that popped into his head each time he heard the term was adorable, and
something he was looking forward to being a part of. Their tea was cold by the
time they finished it, but that didn’t take away from how flavorful or
refreshing it was.
“Is Dalton gonna be home soon?” Zane
asked.
“Probably. He’s been sticking close to
the place ever since that bear was killed south of town. Said he didn’t fancy
being turned into a sieve should the wrong wolves take off after him.”
“I don’t blame him. Uncle Cage said
there wasn’t much left of that bear after the MC got through with him.”
“It’s starting to feel less like
they’re accidently crossing into pack territory and more like scouting parties
gearing up for a hostile takeover.”
“If they are, they’re more like cannon
fodder than spies,” Zane remarked. “A corpse isn’t much use in an invasion, is
it?”
“Unless the whole point is to lull the
pack into a false sense of security. Make us think we’re thinning the herd when
all we’re doing is ridding them of their weakest members so the strong can
sweep in here and wipe us out.”
“The Howling Devils will never let that
happen. They’ll put an end to the Outlaws and any other group that thinks it
can terrorize the pack.”
“Let’s just hope the bears don’t learn
about them until they’ve already committed to whatever it is they have
planned,” Emery said. “Maybe then, we can end whatever this is before wolves
start getting hurt.”
“Long as the pack remembers to leave
our bear alone, I’m good with it,” Zane remarked.
“Same.”
“Your bear would be good with it too,”
Dalton grumbled as he stepped through the door, looking a bit ruffled and
dusty.
“What happened?” they demanded, nearly
crashing into each other in an effort to get to him. Emery put on the brakes to
let Zane go to their bandmate first, not wanting to risk knocking him over.
“An overzealous visitor who didn’t know
I was allowed to be here,” Dalton remarked as he brushed himself off.
“Fortunately, JD happened to step into the new fish market before things got
too heated and set everyone straight, though it’s been made clear to me that in
the future, someone else should do the grocery shopping. Don’t be surprised if
there’s a no bears allowed sign on the door when you go down to check
the place out.”
“Forget them. The meat market stocks
fish, too, and those guys have never had a problem with you,” Emery said. “If
need be, we’ll just do our own fishing.”
“He’s right,” Zane added. “The ice is
thawing and the fish have been biting all week. Cor’s been bringing home some
nice-sized perch and walleye.”
“Might be a good way to spend the rest
of the day,” Emery agreed.
“I’m up for it if you are,” Dalton
said. “Question is, will the fluffy bunny be joining us?”
“For a little while,” Zane conceded.
“Then I’ve got to get over to Dad’s. He’s going to show me the houses that are
open so we can start thinking about where we want to move, and when we want to
do it.”
“Soon, before you get too fluffy to
waddle around and set things up the way you want,” Dalton said.
Zane sighed heavily.
“Okay, I know that look.” Dalton said.
“What’s wrong?”
“How am I supposed to know how I want
it? Or what I’d need?” Zane asked.
“Oh, well, that’s easy,” Emery said,
dashing to his room and returning with a surprise for Zane.
“What are…?” Zane started to ask as
Emery placed a stack of magazines in his hands. Some were home décor, and
several were titled, Pups and Parents.
“Oh my god, thank you!” Zane shrieked,
hugging Emery tight.
“Well played,” Dalton said, ruffling
Emery’s hair.
“Nothing left to do now but go catch
some fish,” Emery said.
“Let me grab a basket and change my
boots,” Dalton said.
“He’s not gonna like it, but I’m gonna
glue myself to his side until things calm down.”
“You’re right, he’s not going to like
it,” Zane said. “The bears are as much a threat to him as they are to the
pack.”
“And we both know that if there was a
threat to this pack, he’d be on the front lines fighting to protect it,” Emery
said.
“I just wish the rest of the pack knew
that.”
“Same,” Zane replied as he pulled his coat
back on, then tossed Emery his.
They were waiting by the door when
Dalton emerged. At first glance, it would be easy to mistake him for a member
of the MC. It was only once someone caught a whiff of him would they realize he
wasn’t wolf. Too bad they couldn’t spray him with wolf scent so everyone would
leave him the hell alone.
Or could they?
Emery pondered that as they headed down
to the RV. It had potential, if such a thing existed. Making up his mind to
research it later tonight, he climbed into the RV and sat on the couch near the
front, Zane sliding into the seat next to him.
“The bakery is adding a coffee counter
and juice bar,” Zane announced as they got underway. “It’s supposed to be up
and running by the end of the week.”
“Do I even want to ask how much you’re
going to owe him for treats and drinks?” Dalton chuckled.
“Nuthin’,” Zane remarked coyly.
“And how is that?”
“Onyx is a member of the MC,” Zane
replied, smirking. “So, I’m trading music. He’d love to have live entertainment
for the afternoon crowd and open mic night. Speaking of which, I need someone
to accompany me. Know anyone with a guitar and some free time?”
“Do you even have to ask? Let me know
the times, and I’ll be there.”
“Will do.”
“Thanks, man, seriously. I need
something to do with my time when I’m not volunteering in the kitchen,” Emery
admitted.
“And this way, you still get to
perform.”
As Dalton bounced them along the road
to the pond, all Emery could do was hug Zane, and thank every god in the
universe that the little wolf had forgiven him for his fuckups when Zane’s
mates had first come into his life.
“Don’t know what I’d do without you,”
Emery whispered.
Zane just hugged him tighter. “You’ll
never have to find out.”
“Are we fishing out the back today?”
Dalton asked.
The frost boils in the road were a bit
rougher here. They were going to need a more practical vehicle for getting
around pack grounds now that they were extending their stay indefinitely.
“Might as well. This thing serves us
well doubling as a supersized fishing shack,” Emery responded.
“Yeah, it does,” Zane said.
Where once Zane would have bounded down
the aisle before Dalton was done parking, now he remained beside Emery until
the RV came to a complete halt. Emery squeezed him close and kissed the side of
his head.
“What’d I do to deserve that?” Zane
asked, leaning into him.
“Aside from just being you,” Emery said,
“I see you changing every day to get ready for those little ones. You’re gonna
be an awesome dad.”
“He’s right,” Dalton said as he walked
past them down the aisle to the back window of the RV, which he removed and set
aside so they could fish out of it. “I’m not sure you realize the little things
you’ve become more conscientious of, but we do.”
Zane just smiled that super megawatt
smile of his and sat on the edge of a bench overlooking the window. Emery took
the one across from him while Dalton took the top bunk, the three of them
baiting their poles and getting situated.
“Remember the night we got ahold of
that watermelon moonshine, and Wild got it in his head that we should take a
walk along the river while we drank,” Dalton mused.
“Oh my god, ghost fish,” Zane laughed.
“I had nightmares for a week.”
“We know,” Emery remarked, shaking his
head at the memory. “You woke us up shoving your cold-ass nose in our backs as
you climbed onto a bunk with one of us.”
“In hindsight, we were a bunch of
fools,” Dalton said. “Of course, silver fish in the moonlight were gonna glow.
We could have broken our damn fool necks fleeing back to the RV like a pack of
hellhounds were after us.”
“Pretty sure Wild was the one most in
danger of that, the way he was flying all crazy and shit,” Zane said, giggling.
“I swore he was gonna go into a
tailspin and land beak-first right on one of those fish after he clipped that
tree,” Emery reminisced.
“He coulda been the poster owl for the
‘Don’t drink and fly campaign’,” Zane said.
“Who knows? He still could be, the way
he was downing shots at the Den last night,” Dalton said. “He and Tobias lined
up a row of twenty-one and raced to the center shot.”
“Who won?” Emery asked.
Snickering, Dalton raised an eyebrow at
him. “Do you even have to ask? Wild drank him under the table, then dragged him
out and carried him home.”
Laughing, Zane still managed to set his
hook and start reeling in the first fish. “Dayum!”
“Pretty much,” Dalton remarked. “These
days, I never see Wild without Tobias. I’m beginning to wonder if our owl is
gonna wind up with a four-legged mate.”
“How awesome would that be? Tobias is
amazing, and it seems like him and Wild clicked from day one,” Zane said.
“They’d be perfect together.”
Thinking about it, Emery had to admit
that they fit. Heads always touching, hands aways gesturing, every time he saw
them they were whispering and laughing like they had a language all their own.
As much as his own situation sucked, Emery was happy for Wild. Like Zane, Wild
had been through hell before joining the band. He deserved to be happy and
loved. From what little Emery knew of interspecies pairings, offspring were
rare, but not impossible. So maybe Emery would never have mates and little ones
of his own, but he could learn how to be the best damned uncle ever to the
pups, owlets, and perhaps even cubs of his amazing band family.
Click on the covers to see the previous books in the Comet Lake Chronicles
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