A Pack of Love and Hate

by Olivia Wildenstein

  “How long will it block my wolf?”

  “From my calculations, if all goes well, you should be back in fur before the next full moon.”

  Considering we had to fight Cassandra then, that was good.

  I licked my chapped lips. “And if all doesn’t go well?”

  “The Sillin could stay in your system longer.”

  “Like another month?” I couldn’t be Liam’s Second if that happened . . . Someone else would have to be. Could another Boulder take my place? Were we allowed to switch Seconds? Perhaps Lucas—

  “It could affect your magic forever,” Greg said in such a low voice I almost missed his words.

  “You mean, turn me into a halfwolf?”

  He nodded.

  “I thought that could only happen after prolonged use?”

  Greg twirled the vial, squinting at the liquid sloshing inside as though seeking an answer within its clear depths. “I don’t know. I’ve never administered so much Sillin.” He fisted the vial before placing it carefully back on the table. “Your parents would be so angry with me right now.”

  I was certain they’d be mad at a whole bunch of people if they’d been alive, the first one being me, but they weren’t here. Besides, if it meant saving Liam’s life, I’d endure being a halfwolf for a while.

  “I’m surprised Jeb’s letting you do this,” Greg added.

  “Jeb doesn’t know, and I’d like it to stay that way. He’s got plenty enough to worry about.”

  Greg studied me for a beat. “Any way I can talk you out of this?”

  I shook my head. “We need to understand.”

  “But why you? Why don’t I call the River medic and see if his pack can test it out—”

  “They might be our allies, Greg, but I don’t trust the Rivers. Besides, if this experiment could potentially harm one of their wolves, why would they agree?”

  “Because they hate Morgan.”

  I worried the inside of my cheek. “They’ll ask for something in return.” Ingrid wanting to marry August came to mind. “Favors never come for free.”

  “You’re right. Favors are never free.” He sighed. “What about another Boulder?”

  “I’d never forgive myself if this had a lasting effect on someone from my pack.” I tapped my fingernail against the tabletop. “So just lay it all out there. How else do you think this injection can affect me?”

  “It’ll dim your senses. And, possibly, it’ll affect your mating link.”

  I suddenly felt a lot warmer. I gathered my hair and rolled the strands up into a bun. “You know everything that goes on in the pack, huh?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “How come you work with us?”

  “Why wouldn’t I work with you?”

  “Because we’re not . . . human.”

  He leaned back in the chair. “My father was the pack physician before me, and my grandfather before him. So I grew up right alongside the Boulders. They never treated me differently because of what I wasn’t.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “I’m sorry they were hard on you, Ness.”

  “Not your fault.”

  Greg’s gaze roamed over my face. “Do you know that Maggie was one of my favorite people?”

  “My mother? Really?”

  “We were in the same grade in school. And I was, well, a bit of a nerd, which got me bullied a lot. Maggie, she was always really quick at thinking up the best comebacks, and she was popular, so no one ever messed with her. Back in third grade and until the end of high school, she took it upon herself to be my protector.”

  I frowned. “I didn’t know that.” I dug through my memories for Greg, but he didn’t feature in any. “I don’t remember you from before I left Boulder.”

  “Because I went to study in Boston and then practiced there until my father died. When Heath called and asked if I’d come home, you’d been gone a year with your mom.” He steepled his fingers. “I was heartbroken when I heard . . . that she’d passed.”

  My throat felt like a drawbridge was being yanked shut. “Yeah.” I whisked my lids closed a moment, breathed in slowly, then, when I felt like I’d gotten myself under control again, I opened my eyes. “Can we get this over with?”

  “Yes. Of course. Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I’m always glad to hear stories about her. To know that little pieces of her live on in other people’s hearts and minds. It’s the closest thing to getting her back.” My voice cracked. “It gets easier, right?” I fit a smile onto my lips to make them stop quivering and to make Greg stop looking at me as though I were about to break apart.

  “It does.” He slid his hand over mine and squeezed my fingers before picking up the syringe. As he popped the solution into it, pounding that threatened to bring down my door had Greg turning.

  I didn’t turn because I knew who was behind the pounding. My navel had tightened like a fishing knot.

  I got up to let August in. When his hands gripped my shoulders, I thought he was going to shake me, but he just stood there, gaze running over my body and nostrils flaring as though to pull in my scent . . . make sure I still had one.

  “You didn’t take it yet.” He was so completely out of breath that I suspected he’d run from his house to mine. His crazed eyes scanned the apartment, landed on the paraphernalia laid out on the table. He removed his fingers from my shoulders so suddenly I almost stumbled. “Greg, you can put all of it away. Ness isn’t experimenting.”

  “August!” Surprise made me speak his name louder than intended.

  “What?” he snapped.

  “You can’t just barge in here and make decisions for me.”

  He took a step nearer, even though not much distance separated us. “You are not injecting yourself with fucking poison to test out a theory.”

  I planted my hands on my hips. “Sillin isn’t poison.”

  “It messes with our werewolf gene, Ness. It’s poison! Ask Greg if you don’t believe me.”

  “August is right,” Greg said. “It’s not lethal, but it’s not good for you.”

  “I’m aware of the risks—”

  “Are you?” August’s tone was so sharp that it made me blink. “Because I’m not aware of them. And I doubt Greg’s aware of them since no one’s ever taken such a high dose.”

  “Morgan has, and she’s still alive. And she became an Alpha.”

  A nerve ticked in his jaw. “What if she lied to you?”

  “Lied to me?”

  “So you’d poison yourself.”

  “She doesn’t want me dead.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “August, you’re being completely irrational right now.”

  “Because I care! I care what happens to you even though no one else in this stupid pack seems to.”

  Silence settled as thickly as snow, making the air lose several degrees of warmth.

  “Greg said the worst case scenario is impairing my gene for an undetermined length of time.” I didn’t want to be a halfwolf, but it beat Liam being a dead one, because even though no one was speaking about it, if Morgan had an unfair advantage over us, and we didn’t figure out what it was, she’d win the duel.

  “Not exactly, Ness. I said I didn’t know. It could irreparably damage your gene, your senses, your mating link.”

  Pain streaked over August’s face at that last part. He tried to disguise it by turning away from me, but I saw it.

  “That halfwolf complication could become permanent,” Greg added.

  “I understand,” I said at the same time as August said, “I’ll do it.” Then, “Is it the same dosage?”

  My hands slipped off my hipbones. “August, no.”

  “Not exactly, but frankly,” Greg said, “I’d rather give you this dose than her. It’ll still affect you, but you should burn it off quicker.”

  “No!” When August started for the chair, I wrapped my fingers around his forearm. “I am not okay with this! I don’t want you to
experiment on yourself.” My voice sounded so thin.

  His lips flexed but didn’t produce words for ten whole heartbeats. “Everyone has to do their part for the pack. This is me doing my part.” He pried my fingers off his arm one at a time, then took a seat, pushed the sleeves of his sweat-stained navy Henley up, and laid his arm flat on the table.

  “Ready?” Greg asked.

  August looked at the window. “Hit me.”

  I crossed my arms to make them stop trembling. When that didn’t work, I went to draw myself a glass of water. As I brought it up to my lips, water sloshed over the rim and trickled down my wrist.

  There was a hollow suctioning noise—probably the cooler—and then chair legs scraped against the floor.

  “Try to shift every day,” Greg said. “Once you manage, call me, and I’ll come and take a blood sample to see if any traces remain.” I heard him walk to the door, but I kept my back to him. “It shouldn’t give you any fever or seizures, but I’d feel better if someone was with you tonight. Maybe go sleep at your parents.”

  Chills zigzagged through my body, icing my already frigid limbs.

  “And, Ness, I left you some salve for your arm. It’ll help with the scars.”

  When the door snicked shut, more water spilled out of my glass. I set it down, then ripped paper towels off the roll to blot my skin, the countertop, and the floor.

  “Ness—”

  “I’m so mad at you,” I hissed.

  “I got that, but it’s done now, and I didn’t drop dead, so—”

  “So that’s supposed to make me feel better?” I yelled, spinning around. “Greg just mentioned seizures. Seizures!”

  He snorted. “You do realize this could’ve been you?”

  “I do realize!” I breathed hard. “But if this hurt me, it would’ve been my fault. If this hurts you . . .” My voice broke. “I’ll never forgive myself if this hurts you.”

  “Shh. It’ll be all right. I’ll phone up Cole. Get him to spend the night at my place.”

  “No, I’ll do it. There’s no need to drag yet another person into my harebrained schemes.” After the ice, I now felt filled with fire. I bet smoke was wafting from my nostrils.

  “You don’t have to—”

  “After what you just did, you don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m spending the night at your place or you’ll spend the night at my place. Your choice.”

  One side of his mouth tipped up with a smile. “If I’d known that was all it took to get you to spend another night with me, I might’ve injected myself sooner.”

  I glared at him. Not because I was mad at what he’d just said, but because I was furious with what he’d just done.

  His smile vanished. “Pack a bag. I’ll call a cab.”

  31

  “Have you seen this movie?”

  “What’s the title?” Since leaving my apartment, I hadn’t taken my eyes off August, not even to glance at his enormous television screen.

  He sighed and set the remote control on the arm of the couch. We were sitting on either end of it—me with my legs curled beneath me, and him with his ankle perched on his opposite knee.

  “Please stop looking at me as though you want to throttle me.” His leg had been bobbing restlessly since he’d sat down. “It’s done. Let it go.”

  “Let it go? Really?” I narrowed my eyes. “Until you shift—fully shift—I’m not going to let this go.”

  He wrapped his arm around the back of the couch. “You’re going to stay mad at me for weeks?”

  “Possibly even months.”

  He winced so suddenly that my heart all but stopped.

  When his fingers came up to his temples, I sprang toward him, almost landing in his lap, and palmed his forehead. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  His forehead smoothed out, and a smile overtook his lush lips. “You were sitting too far away.”

  I blinked, and then I smacked his chest hard. “That was so not funny, August Watt.”

  When I tried to crawl back to my side, he wrapped his fingers around my wrist and held me in place. His expression was gentle but serious. “I don’t want you to be mad at me even another minute.”

  “I’m not mad. I’m scared.”

  “I know, Dimples, but put your anger on hold for a second and look at me. I’m fine.”

  I scanned him from forehead to chest. Even though I wasn’t on his lap, I was close. The side of my bent leg was flush against his thigh, and I could see every single dab of green and sable in his irises, every freckle dotting his nose and cheekbones.

  I was way too close.

  Heat snaking up my neck, I averted my gaze and wriggled away. “I’m hungry. Are you hungry?” I asked, getting to my feet.

  August stared at me fixedly, and then I felt a tug behind my navel that had my shins hitting the frame of the couch. I bent at the knees to absorb the listing.

  “I wanted to check if it had affected the link,” he said.

  Relief surged within me, washing away the awkwardness that had made me shoot to my feet. “It hasn’t!”

  His eyebrows rose. “Why do you look happy about this? Don’t you want it gone?”

  I froze like a robber caught mid-theft. From the intensity with which he studied my face, I thought August was going to see right through me.

  “I do,” I lied, dragging my hair back, “but the fact that it’s still there means the Sillin’s not wreaking havoc on your system.” I hoped the excuse sounded believable. “How’s your sense of smell?”

  Eyebrows still raised, he pulled in a lungful of air. “Still there, too.”

  “But is it as strong as before?”

  He lowered his gaze to the pulse point in my neck. “It’s hard to tell with you standing so close.”

  I didn’t ask him why that was because I understood. I had the same “problem.” When I was close to him, little else penetrated my senses over his woodsy, spicy scent, and the steady drumbeat of his heart, and the sight of his remarkable body.

  I hadn’t taken my dose of Sillin this morning, so my senses were sharpening again. Afraid my frenzied pulse would give away all I was feeling, I took a step back, then rounded the couch and ambled to the kitchen. “What do you feel like eating?”

  August twisted around. “I’m not sure I have much back there.”

  “I found some dried pasta and a jar of tomato sauce.”

  “You don’t have to cook. We can order in.”

  “Don’t underestimate my water-boiling skills.”

  A smile ghosted over his lips.

  “Why are you smiling?”

  “Am I not allowed to smile now?”

  “I was just wondering if it was a she’s-going-to-burn-down-my-kitchen smile, or a polite is-she-going-to-make-me-eat-undercooked-pasta smile?”

  He snorted, and my fingers itched to flick him. “It’s an I’m-relieved-she-doesn’t-hate-my-guts smile.”

  My hands faltered on the jar, and it dropped onto the wooden countertop. Thankfully, the glass didn’t shatter. “I never hated your guts, August. I was scared. I still am. Because, like you, I care.”

  His eyes didn’t turn a brighter shade of green like they usually did, but his gaze scraped across my face with an intensity that made me crouch and pull open one of his cupboards to get out of his line of sight.

  “Now where do you keep your pots and pans?”

  32

  I sat up so fast my head spun, and August’s apartment swam out of focus. A coverlet slid off my shoulders and pooled onto the floor. I clicked my lids open and shut a few times to clear my eyesight, then looked around for August.

  He wasn’t on the couch. Maybe he was in his bed?

  The sound of running water had me leaping to my feet, plodding to the bathroom, and knuckling the door. “August?”

  “Be out in a minute!” His voice was strong and steady. He was all right.

  Pulse decelerating, I dragged the heels of my hands into my eyes. Something buzzed. I shot my g
aze to my bag which I’d set on one of his barstools. I plodded over and dug my cell phone out.

  There was a message from Matt: In front of your door. Ready?

  I checked the time, then mumbled, “Shoot, shoot, shoot,” just as the door of the bathroom opened and steam billowed out, thickening the air with August’s scent.

  ME: I’m not at my place. Can you pick me up at the warehouse? And it’s NOT what you think.

  MATT: I’ll be right over. And the fact that you’re telling me that it’s not what I think means it’s exactly what I think.

  ME: Your logic is illogical.

  MATT: Apparently that’s what you told Cole last time he was over at August’s place.

  MATT: Be there in a sec. We like our coffees with lots of milk.

  “What’s going on?” August asked.

  “Matt and Cole are on their way over here. They think . . .” I set my phone down on the smooth slab of ruffled wood. “I’m sure you can guess what they think.”

  “Are you worried they’re going to tell Liam?”

  “No. Why—oh!” My eyes went wide. With everything going on, I’d completely forgotten about his ban. But then I reasoned that I hadn’t broken any rules, because August and I weren’t together, together.

  “Might want to inform him so he doesn’t schedule your duel for today.”

  I worried the inside of my mouth, surely deepening my dimples. “I’ll call him later. Right now, I have to get ready. May I use the bathroom?”

  “Go right ahead.”

  I carried my bag inside and quickly changed into my exercise bra and running shorts, then put yesterday’s tank top on and brushed my teeth. Tying up my hair, I returned into the kitchen where August was brewing coffee. He’d pulled on a pair of mesh shorts and a short sleeved T-shirt.

  “You’re feeling up to running?” I asked, grabbing a glass and filling it with tap water.

  “Yeah.”

  “Nothing hurts?”

  “Just my neck.” He rubbed the back of it. “But that’s probably from falling asleep sitting up.”

  “Can’t believe I slept. I’d suck as a nurse.”

  He smiled. “I’m sure plenty of bedridden men would disagree with you.”