A Pack of Love and Hate

by Olivia Wildenstein

  Leaning back against the island, I shook my head and drank my fill. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better about my lousy job.”

  “I survived the night. And I feel absolutely fine. I promise. You can stop worrying about me.”

  “Can you shift?”

  He held out his arm and concentrated. When brown fur didn’t sprout from his pores, he shook his head.

  “Then I’m not done worrying.”

  The coffee maker behind him began to gurgle and dribble dark, sweetly charred liquid into the glass carafe.

  “Dimples . . .”

  “Don’t Dimples-me, August Watt. You’re my best friend. I’ll worry if I want to worry.”

  His lips tightened as though he found my reasoning maddening. Or maybe it was my sticking him in the friend-zone which he found maddening. Little did he know that he featured in many more zones than that one.

  Loud knocking redirected our attention toward the front door. A keypad beeped, but it wasn’t followed by a click.

  “You changed the code?” I asked as he strode over to open up for Matt and Cole.

  “I did.”

  I clutched my glass of water tighter. Had August changed it for me? So that people—his parents and Cole—didn’t walk in on us?

  If there had been an us . . .

  “Yo.” Cole slugged August’s shoulder.

  Although Matt’s brother was the same height as my mate, he wasn’t half as ripped. August had been away from the Marines for over a month now and was still in formidable shape—slimmer than Matt but carved like a Greek God.

  I really had to stop ogling August if I wanted to convince the two Rogers my sleepover had been platonic.

  “Morning, Little Wolf,” Matt belted out, moss-green eyes way too shiny.

  I decided not to bother convincing him or his brother of anything. I didn’t have anything to feel ashamed of. Besides—as I took a sip of my water, I sniffed my hand discreetly—I didn’t think I smelled of August or of our mating link. Sure, I’d slept on his couch, but apart from when I’d all but jumped onto his lap to check if he had a fever, I’d kept my distance from him.

  Giant smile pasted on his lips, Matt rubbed his hands together. “You got our coffees ready?”

  I tipped my head toward the coffee machine, and he dug through the cupboard of mismatched mugs to grab two.

  I wasn’t sure why he was Mr. Smiley this morning. He was one of Liam’s friends. Shouldn’t Matt have been rooting against me and August? Unless he thought my presence in August’s life would get him work benefits.

  “Milk?” Matt asked.

  “In the fridge,” August said.

  I noticed he’d put on his sneakers while I was still barefoot. I curled my unpolished toes, feeling, however superficial, that a coat of nail polish might’ve made my feet more attractive. Not that anyone was staring at them. I set down my glass and grabbed a pair of socks from my bag. After lacing up my sneakers, I went back for some coffee.

  “So . . .?” Matt started as I elbowed past him to grab the carafe.

  “So . . .?” I volleyed back. I knew exactly what he was hunting for.

  “You guys have something to tell us?” Cole asked.

  I looked at August, who proceeded to rub his neck. I wasn’t sure if he was still trying to get the kink out of it or if he was nervous.

  Taking in a deep breath, I said, “August decided to get injected with a massive dose of Sillin so I wouldn’t do it myself. I stayed over to make sure he didn’t have a seizure during the night.”

  The brothers blinked at me, smiles fading.

  I sipped my coffee, letting the information settle. “Let me guess . . . that wasn’t where your minds had gone?”

  “Nope. Not even close,” Cole said.

  “Why?” Matt asked, watching August as though to spot the effect of the drug.

  “Morgan told me that when she was younger, she had to take a big dose of it to heal from a toxic waste poisoning. This led me to wonder if taking an enormous dose somehow left traces in our system—not enough to impair our magic, but enough to impair our enemies. Once August manages to shift, Greg will test his blood.”

  The atmosphere, which had bordered on lighthearted when the Rogers had arrived, turned downright somber.

  “How long before we know the result?” Matt asked.

  “Greg said it could take weeks before I can shift,” August said, which skewered me with renewed guilt. August must’ve spotted the guilt, because he added, “But I feel good. Great, even.”

  I sensed he was overplaying how great he felt to reassure me, but I also sensed, through the link, that he wasn’t in any pain.

  “As you both can see, though, Dimples doesn’t believe me.”

  I pursed my lips.

  “You sure you feel up for a run, man?” Matt asked.

  August shook his head. “Don’t you start babying me too, Matty.”

  Cole smirked. “Ness’s babying you, Auggie? I’m sure that’s really awful.”

  August smacked his friend, which just made Cole chuckle.

  I rolled my eyes. “If you guys are done acting like girls, can we go?”

  “Acting like girls?” Cole howled a laugh. “I’ll have you know, we Rogers are extremely manly. Watt, though—”

  “Don’t bother coming into work on Monday. You’re fired.”

  “August!” I yelled.

  “Don’t worry, Ness. That’s the twentieth time he’s fake-fired me.”

  “Nothing fake about it this time,” August grumbled.

  “Temperature’s supposed to be scorching today,” Matt said, setting his mug in the sink. “We should head out soon.”

  33

  “Yo, Matty, can we stop?” Cole wheezed. “My lungs are on fire . . . and I feel like I’m gonna hurl.” He was running beside me while Matt and August were ahead of us.

  Way ahead of us.

  Even though my lungs felt vacuum-packed, at least I didn’t sound as though I was about to drop dead.

  Matt whirled and jogged backward. “If you quit smoking, you’d feel a lot better.”

  August glanced over his shoulder at us. Like Matt, he’d barely broken a sweat. “Maybe we should take a breather. Don’t want to have to explain to Kasie how she lost her oldest son to physical exertion.”

  Cole flipped him off before coming to a stop. He bent over and clutched his thighs, panting hard. “Why are we running . . . on a Saturday morning . . . again?”

  “Because Ness needs endurance training,” Matt said, finally halting too.

  “Let me rephrase. Why am I running? Liam should be the one up here murdering his lungs.”

  A shadow crossed August’s face at the mention of Liam.

  “Liam’s Alpha,” Matt said. “He’s magically in better shape than all of us put together. You know that.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Magically?”

  “The blood oath acts like natural steroids,” August explained.

  So why had he asked me to prep him for the duel when he didn’t need any training?

  My gaze snagged on August.

  Of course . . .

  Cole and Matt suddenly snapped their heads toward the evergreens behind them. Glowing eyes stared back at us from the cover of the forest. I squinted to make out any distinctive markings on the wolves’ pelts, but they stood at a distance. I sniffed the air. Sure enough, these wolves weren’t Boulders. In case I hadn’t come to this realization on my own, the sweaty T-shirt smacking my bare thigh followed by the sight of the two Rogers’ naked backsides would’ve alerted me to the fact that we weren’t in the presence of friends.

  August stepped closer to me, the lines of his face and body as taut as the spines of the two giant blond wolves now standing guard next to us. The six Creeks trotted out of the shadows but kept their distance from us. One of them—a lemon-yellow wolf—whined. Matt barked.

  How I wish my human ears could’ve grasped wolf speech . . .

  The only thing
I could tell from Matt’s raised hackles was that they weren’t exchanging pleasantries.

  “Do you recognize any of them?” I whispered to August.

  “No, but the yellow one with the violet eyes could be Alex.” He tipped his chin up and smelled the air, and a rumble of frustration ripped up his corded throat. “I can’t fucking smell anything.”

  A penny for his Mom’s curse jar and a punch to my already guilt-ridden gut.

  The yellow wolf—Alex?—craned his long neck and peered at us over one of his companion’s pelts. Had they picked up on what August had just said?

  I sidled closer until my hipbone hit the side of August’s thigh, feeling my wolf scratching against my envelope of skin, desirous to come out. I bridled her back, because one, I didn’t want to get naked—yes, I know . . . incredibly silly—and two, because I wanted to offer August some solidarity. His anger at not being able to morph agitated the tether.

  The Creeks made more whiny noises. When one took a step closer, Cole charged her, bumping her back a couple steps with his shoulder. The brown wolf yelped and stuck her tail between her legs.

  The fair-colored wolf growled at Cole but didn’t attack. Even though Matt’s fangs were bared, he didn’t lunge forward.

  Cole gnashed his pointy teeth, and the wolf in front of him soared back. The yellow wolf emitted a shrill howl, which got the attention of the five others. He swung around and sprinted into the copse of trees, and his packmates followed.

  Matt and Cole waited a good five minutes before shifting back into skin. Once their fur had receded, they straightened, eyes wild with energy and ferocity.

  Keeping my gaze on their torsos, I asked, “What did they want?”

  “They said we were trespassing on their property!” Cole exclaimed.

  “Put your clothes on.” August plucked dark mesh from the grass and lobbed it at Cole, before stepping in front of me.

  “You do know I have to get used to nudity?” I whispered against his shoulder blades that were pulled in like metal wings.

  He grunted, so I flicked the base of his spine. He tossed me a hooded glance over his shoulder.

  “What?” I asked all innocently.

  He didn’t say anything, just slowly returned his attention to the Rogers.

  After a few seconds, I walked around my muscular blockade. “Were we trespassing?”

  “No. This is neutral territory,” Cole said, spearing his arms through his muscle tee. “The Boulders and the Pines signed an agreement a long time ago about boundaries. This part of the forest belongs to no one.”

  If the land was for sale, Aidan Michaels would surely snatch it up with a briefcase of cash.

  “Who was here?” August asked.

  “Alex Morgan, his sister Lori . . . She’s the one Cole knocked back. The other four were Creeks I’m not familiar with.”

  “Why did you leap at her?” I asked Cole.

  “’Cause she was trying to sniff you guys.”

  My head jerked back. “Sniff us?”

  “She said you had an odd smell.”

  “The mating link,” August murmured, barely shifting his lips.

  I twisted toward him so fast my ponytail flogged my cheek. “You think they don’t know about it?”

  “If they didn’t, they probably do now,” Matt said.

  “Or not,” Cole said, straightening up. “It’s pretty faint.”

  “It is?” I asked. “You think that’s because of the Sillin?”

  “Either that, or it’s because you’ve been keeping your hands off each other. You have, right?”

  My cheeks burned. “Yes,” I hissed.

  Cole raised his palms in the air. “Don’t bite my head off.”

  “We should head back,” Matt said, studying the woods as though expecting more wolves to show up.

  “Did they say anything else?” I asked.

  Matt flicked his gaze to the grass at my feet. “Nothing worth repeating.”

  I folded my arms. “What else did they say?”

  The Rogers exchanged a look.

  “What. Else?”

  “Alex said something about Sarah.” Cole spoke really fast, as though speed might lessen the sting. “About how fun she was and asked if you’d be interested in a threesome.”

  My navel pulsed so hard I half expected it to pop right off my abdomen. August hadn’t said a word nor let out a sound, but his already rigid body became as still as the trunks of the evergreens in front of us.

  “Classy,” I said.

  “Classy?” Matt raised a blond eyebrow. “That’s what you got from that?”

  “What else was I supposed to get from that?”

  “Your best friend’s screwing him,” Cole said. “Doesn’t that repulse you?”

  My forearms tightened in front of my chest. “It does, but I’m not her keeper.”

  Cole exchanged another look with his brother, and then both of them looked at me again, and for a second, I thought they would see the truth behind Sarah’s actions, but then they shook their heads, and Matt said, “I hope you didn’t share too much sensitive information with her, because if she’s willing to screw them, she’s probably willing to screw you over.”

  “She doesn’t know anything damning.”

  “She knows we’re mates,” August said.

  “But she won’t tell them.” I said this way too quickly and confidently.

  “How do you know that?” Matt asked.

  In truth, I didn’t know. I’d never told her it was a secret. I could only hope she would keep it to herself. “What’ll it change if she does tell them?”

  “They’ll keep me away during the duel,” August said softly.

  I stared up into the hazel depths of his eyes.

  “Yeah,” Cole said. “They’re always worried about the reaction of mates. Some turn feral if their partners get hurt.”

  “Eric told me,” Matt spoke slowly, “that some mates—when both are wolves—can control the other’s body. Apparently, that ability’s linked to how much they crave the other as a mate.”

  Whoa . . . I averted my gaze and rubbed my palms against my running shorts.

  “Can you guys do that?” he asked.

  “No,” August said.

  I frowned at him, then at the grass, wondering why he was lying. Was he afraid Matt and Cole would tell others about our ability, or was he embarrassed by it? But then it hit me . . . it wasn’t our ability.

  It was his.

  I wasn’t able to move his body. We’d assumed it was because he was so much bigger than me, but the true reason had nothing to do with size.

  He backed away from me, his large sneakers crushing the earth beneath him. “We should get back. I promised my parents I was going to have lunch at their place.”

  I sensed his desire to get down from the mountain had nothing to do with being on time for his meal and everything to do with what Matt had just told us. Was August ashamed by how much he wanted me, or was he angry by how little he thought I wanted him?

  I hadn’t tried to pull on the tether since the night I’d slept in his bed, but considering how my feelings for him had grown and solidified, I was pretty certain I could drag him all the way down the mountain if I tried.

  I didn’t try, though, because if I moved his body, it would destroy all the work I’d put into keeping my hands off it.

  Off him.

  34

  I sent August several text messages during the weekend to ask how he was feeling. His answer to all of them was the four-letter word: Fine. He wasn’t fine, but I didn’t think that had to do with the Sillin.

  Throughout Sunday night dinner at Frank’s, Evelyn kept asking me what was wrong, and I kept telling her I was nervous about starting college. While Jeb told stories about his college days, especially about what a formidable running back he’d been, Frank kept casting glances my way. He probably thought my mood was sullen because of the imminent duel.

  During the ride back to the apartm
ent, Jeb was acting so uncharacteristically giddy that I worried something could be wrong. My uncle wasn’t a giddy person.

  “Are you all right, Jeb?” I asked after he’d parked the van on our street and we’d gotten out.

  He grinned so wide his teeth gleamed in his gray-blond beard. There was definitely something up with him.

  “I know your birthday isn’t until Friday”—he dug into his pocket—“but I’m going to give you your present early.”

  “You don’t need to give me any presents.”

  He tsked and plucked my hand from my side, then dropped a car key into it. “The payment for the inn came in, so I got you something. It’s not brand new, but it doesn’t have lots of mileage.”

  “You got me”—my voice caught—“a car?” I finished quietly.

  He pointed at a compact silver SUV with a big red bow on the back fender. “Here she is.”

  I let out a breath that sounded a lot like a whimper, and Jeb grinned, eyes all glittery. I flung my arms around his neck and hugged him tight.

  “Thank you thank you,” I whispered.

  “You’re very welcome.” He patted my back. “How about we take it out for a spin?”

  “Yes! Absolutely yes!” I detached myself from my uncle and strode over to the car, running my fingertips along its shiny, smooth body.

  Mine.

  It was mine.

  Jeb was still grinning. “Let’s get ice-cream. I noticed our freezer was depressingly empty.”

  I didn’t think I could eat anything more after Evelyn’s meal, but I nodded excitedly. I climbed behind the wheel and adjusted the seat and the mirrors, my heart feeling exactly like my stomach—close to bursting.

  The following morning, pumped up on caffeine and excitement, I slipped into my car and turned up the music to match my mood.

  I rolled down the window and took my time getting to the campus, relishing the purr of the engine and the feel of the warm breeze twisting my hair. After I parked in the student lot, I took a map of the campus and my schedule out from my college packet. I studied both a moment before setting out toward my Introduction to Statistics course.

  I dragged my hand through my snarled hair, realizing I hadn’t even checked my reflection in the rearview mirror. I hoped I didn’t look like I had an addiction to hairspray. I arrived in the lecture hall with a few minutes to spare and sat up front. As I dug out my notebook, the scent of apricot flecked the air, overpowering the smell of chalky deodorant, milky coffees, and synthetic perfumes.