A Pack of Vows and Tears

by Olivia Wildenstein

  “I still have the wolf you made me,” Tom said.

  I lowered my gaze back to him. “You do?” Emotion robbed my voice of volume.

  “On my fireplace mantle.”

  The high beams of a car turning into the lot momentarily blinded me. I hadn’t called Jeb yet, so it couldn’t be the van. Once my eyes adjusted to the darkness again, I noticed the make—a pickup.

  “I’ll see you in the morning, Ness.” On his way to his parked car, he stopped to greet August.

  I slid my cell phone out of my bag and texted Jeb that I was done, then watched August stride over, trying to gauge his current mood through the tether. Tense. He was tense.

  He checked the lot. “How are you getting home?”

  “Jeb’s coming to pick me up.” When he frowned, I added, “I only have a permit, remember?”

  “Right.” He looked over my shoulder at the warehouse wall. “I can give you a lift.”

  “I’m sure he’s on his way already.” I pulled my bag strap over my head so the leather cut across my chest instead of digging into my shoulder. “You still have a lot of work tonight?”

  “No. I’m done for the day.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I live here.”

  “In the warehouse?”

  “No.” He nodded toward a small building adjacent to it. “It’s temporary. I bought a plot of land on the north side of that lake we swam in but haven’t had time to develop anything.”

  “Can I see it?”

  “What? The plot?”

  “No. Your current lodging.”

  He rubbed his jaw, as though my request necessitated profound consideration.

  “Forget it,” I mumbled, a little hurt. What exactly did he think I would do? Trash his place or make disparaging comments about the decor?

  He peered at the still-empty road before walking in the direction of his house.

  Okay, just walk away from me. That’s not weird at all.

  He stopped and turned a little. “Are you coming?”

  “No.”

  “But I thought you—” He turned completely this time, shoulders straining his gray T-shirt. A galaxy of stains speckled the cotton: glue smears, white paint, grease stains. “Why not?”

  I felt both my eyebrows slant on my forehead. “You clearly didn’t want to show it to me, August.”

  He loosed an exasperated sigh. “Ness . . . ”

  I tapped on my phone to seem busy. He grumbled something. Because I couldn’t leave well enough alone, I flung my gaze back onto him. “Did I do something?”

  His jaw ticked. “I don’t know. Did you?” His voice was so low that I wondered if I heard him correctly.

  “You are mad at me!”

  He just stood there, brooding and silent, cloaked in darkness, oozing darkness. He’d been mad at me before I came in to work, so whatever I’d done happened before today. But the last time we’d seen each other was at the hospital and—Oh . . .

  Heat coursed through me as quick as the current in the Colorado River during snowmelt. Was August Watt jealous?

  “Liam asked me when I was leaving,” he finally said. “I’ll get out of this goddamn place when I’m ready, not when someone tells me to, understood?”

  My mouth fell open. Not jealousy.

  My navel pulsed as though August’s anger had somehow yanked on the tether between us. And then my heart began to pulsate in time with it. As fast as it had flooded me, the strange heat receded. I was mortified to have believed him jealous.

  The darkness beyond August suddenly turned brighter, noisier. A van sped down the road, kicking up a pale cloud of dust. I kept my gaze locked on the approaching car because if I looked at August, I would either yell at him for thinking I was somehow complicit in trying to get him to leave Boulder, or I would start crying. I wasn’t sure which was worse.

  As I stalked toward the van, I tossed out over my shoulder, “I’ll tell him to stop harassing you.”

  Had August concluded that Liam and I were a couple again after seeing us together in the hospital room or had Liam implied something?

  As I took a seat next to Jeb and answered his questions about how my day had gone, I typed out a lengthy diatribe to Liam. In the end, I deleted all of it, sensing our Alpha would take it out on August.

  So I simply sent: I forgot to ask, do pack tuition loans extend to out-of-state colleges?

  Liam’s answer came an hour later, while I was having dinner. Why?

  ME: Because I’m thinking of applying elsewhere.

  He called me then. Not sure I’d be able to control my tone, I declined the incoming call and texted: Can’t talk right now. But I can text.

  A couple seconds later, he sent me: Your application’s already being processed. You should be getting the welcome packet soon. And no, pack money and influence are only good on pack territory. We need to keep our wolves close.

  Then why are you trying to send August away?

  I felt I knew the answer to that.

  The doorbell rang then. I inhaled long and hard, expecting Liam’s scent to hit me, but the smell was a mixture of antibacterial soap and ground coffee. Definitely not Liam’s, unless he’d changed his soap to the hospital-grade kind and was jacked up on caffeine.

  “That must be Greg,” Jeb said, going to open the door.

  Exhaling a relieved breath, I set my phone face down on the couch and stood up to get my eyes examined by the pack doctor, praying he wouldn’t spot all the anger that brewed beneath my irises.

  30

  The following day, Liam stopped by the warehouse to see me, seemingly none too happy that I hadn’t picked up the two calls he’d made after his last text went unanswered.

  When he strode into the office, I kept my gaze fastened to the computer monitor. I felt him at my back though, felt his body thrum and his scent invade the entire room.

  “Why didn’t you answer any of my calls?” he exclaimed.

  “Because I was mad at you.” I still didn’t look at him even though he’d moved to stand in front of the desk.

  “I got that. But why are you mad at me? What did I do now, Ness?”

  I clicked on the keyboard, then moved the cursor to the next tab.

  “Goddammit, don’t ice me out.”

  I finally leaned back in the chair, crossed my arms over my chest, and stared up into Liam’s narrowed eyes. “Did you ask August to leave town again?”

  His pupils pulsed and pulsed, and then his eyes turned yellow as though his wolf was about to leap to the surface.

  Finally, he shook his head. “I asked him if he was planning on leaving soon. I didn’t ask him to leave. Excuse me for wanting to know what my wolves plan to do with their lives! Especially when so much is fucking happening around Boulder. Did you hear that some Creeks pissed all over Julian’s fucking hedges? Same wolves Lucas smelled around my house.”

  I blinked frenziedly, feeling suddenly petty for believing this had been about an amorous tryst.

  “So no, I wasn’t chasing your mate out of Boulder. I was trying to figure out if we could count on him if more Creeks arrived.” Liam growled all of this, and his growl intensified the scudding of my heart.

  “I’m—I’m sorry, Liam. I just assumed.” I shivered, feeling as though someone had spun the AC to its lowest setting.

  Liam didn’t storm out like I was expecting him to. He just stood there, jaw clenching and unclenching, making me feel even more foolish.

  I dropped my arms onto the armrests, then pushed myself up and walked toward him, laying a hand on his forearm, hoping he’d construe my gesture as a ceasefire. “What can I do to help?”

  “We don’t need your help,” he bit out.

  My hand slipped off his arm and landed on my waist. “But you need August’s? You’re not actually planning on making me watch from the sidelines, are you?”

  “It could get dangerous.” He rubbed his twitchy jaw.

  “I’m not afraid.”

&
nbsp; He snorted. “You might not be, but I am.”

  Did he mean for me or for the pack?

  “We have no clue what they’re thinking, and their Alpha can’t be bothered to pick up the damn phone. Robbie’s dying to go to Beaver Creek to meet her, but Julian says to stay put. Like me, he’s afraid it’s a ploy to lure some of us to them.” He stopped rubbing his face, but the hard lines of his posture didn’t slacken, which told me he was still pissed. At me or at the Creeks?

  “Maybe it is worth sending some of us to meet her.”

  His Adam’s apple jerked in his throat. “Some of us? I hope you’re not planning on volunteering, because my answer would be no.”

  “Why?” I exclaimed.

  “Because you don’t know the first thing about Creeks or diplomatic visits between packs.”

  “Then teach me.”

  “It can’t be taught.”

  “Bullshit! Everything can be taught.”

  “I’m not sending you out there. I’m not sending any of my wolves out there. The Creeks want to talk, they come here. We are stronger on our turf than we are on theirs.”

  Slowly my hand slid off my waist and found purchase on the desk beside me. “What if they all come? All one thousand of them?”

  “They wouldn’t leave their territory unguarded.”

  “Even if half their pack came, they would grossly outnumber us.”

  “It’s not always about numbers. They have many children and fe—” He stopped talking so suddenly that I sucked in a breath.

  “I hope you weren’t about to say females.”

  His pupils shrank before spreading back out.

  I shook my head.

  “Physically, Ness, we aren’t the same, just like a child isn’t built like an adult.”

  I fastened my gaze to the floorboards, glaring hard at the spaces between the planks.

  I felt a finger crook my face up. I twisted free of Liam and stepped back. “Remind me how the Creek Alpha rose to power? Because the story I heard was that she defeated the Aspen Alpha in a duel.”

  “She was already an Alpha. Alphas are stronger. If she hadn’t been—”

  “Please just stop talking. It’s making me unhappy.”

  “Look, I’m all for empowering females, but I’m not going to spout lies about corporeal equality when the hard facts are that we aren’t built alike. How many firemen are women? They’re even called firemen.”

  “No, they’re called firefighters.”

  He let out a molar-grinding growl and tossed his hands in the air. “Ugh. I can’t win with you. I can never win!”

  I crossed my arms. “Funny how illogical that is when you keep saying I have no chance of beating you.”

  His nostrils pulsed, and his fingers wrapped into fists. “Ness Clark, you fucking drive me crazy.” And then he all but lunged toward me and cupped the back of my head, tilting my face up. “I must be one hell of a masochist for being turned on right now.” His murmur skated over my lips, heightening the frantic pulse of my heart. “And just so we’re clear, I don’t find you inferior. You’re too smart, persistent, and distractingly beautiful to be inferior. But that’s how you’d win a battle. You might punch hard and at the right place, but your fists have nothing on”—his gaze fused to mine—“you.”

  When I felt the brush of his lips against mine, I backed away, put the desk between us. “I have work to do, Liam.” I watched the door, hoping he’d take the hint and leave. I also watched it because I was afraid of looking at him.

  Afraid he’d see how deeply he rattled me.

  Damn Liam Kolane. The man was such a hot-tempered beast, everything I disliked about men, and yet, he got under my skin too. He slapped and then soothed the slaps with such care and tenderness.

  Without uttering another word, he crossed the office toward the door and left. Unfortunately, his retreat did little to calm my nerves.

  And then it got worse when I got an email from August that read: Please keep your personal life out of the work place.

  I would’ve punched the monitor, but it would break, and the replacement cost would be taken out of my salary, whatever amount that was. Since I hadn’t discussed specifics, I expected minimum wage.

  Liam was wrong about me being smart. Smart people didn’t find themselves saddled with debt, working for men whom they were physically linked to and infatuated with others who weren’t especially kind.

  It was time Ness Clark sharpened up and found a way out of her pit of misery. Which led me to send Sarah a message: Can I come with you to The Den tonight?

  Clubbing wouldn’t fix anything, but it would temporarily take my mind off the hole that needed plugging.

  Sarah’s answer came in the afternoon. Ness Clark wants to par-tay?

  ME: Yes.

  SARAH: Should I be worried?

  ME: About what?

  SARAH: About you wanting to go out. You haven’t been in the mood to have fun since, well, since the funeral.

  ME: I’ll tell you later.

  SARAH: Counting on it. I’ll be at your place at 8 with a hot dress.

  ME: What’s wrong with my dresses?

  SARAH: Nothing. I just have the perfect one for you. Ciao.

  I was going clubbing, or at the very least I was going to sit in a DJ booth and watch people have fun and hope it would rub off on me.

  When was the last time I’d had fun?

  The music festival? Nah. Everest had ditched me for this Megan chick, and then Justin Summix had all but called me a whore.

  The night I’d run with the pack after the trials? Actually, that night had been more meaningful than fun.

  Swimming in the lake with August? His earlier message about not mixing business with pleasure nixed that afternoon, though.

  What did he think I was doing in the office anyway? And had he been there, or had one of his employees ratted me out?

  I sighed, realizing I hadn’t had fun in a very long time.

  31

  “You want me to wear that? But it’s . . . ” I dangled the scrap of white fabric in front of me.

  “Sexy.”

  “I was going to say slutty.”

  “Slutty is sexy.” Like an impatient child, Sarah was bouncing on my bed, wearing a dress that wasn’t much longer or looser than the one she’d brought me. “Besides, I was all out of denim overalls.” She stopped bouncing. “Hey, you put me in charge of tonight, so put the damn dress on, Ness Clark.”

  Sigh-growling, I vanished into my bathroom to change into the white bandage. At least the material was opaque. I fluffed up my hair and twisted from side-to-side, checking my reflection. Okay. The dress was sexy and more covering than what I’d initially thought. Not that I would confess this to Sarah.

  Sarah whistled when I came out. “Damn, girl. Maybe I should’ve dug up a pair of overalls. You’re going to steal my limelight.”

  “No one can steal DJ Wolverine’s limelight.”

  She leaped off the bed with the grace of a pole vaulter. “Now shoes—”

  “Are we dancing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then flats. Heels kill me.”

  Sarah’s lips hiked up in protest, but I slid my feet into my white sneakers before she could give me grief about it.

  “I’m wearing the dress.” I said this as though it were a great concession. Thank goodness I hadn’t told her I liked it. I grabbed my bag, making sure I had my phone, keys, and wallet. But then I thought about my ID. “I don’t have a fake ID!”

  Sarah rolled her eyes so hard I didn’t expect them to level back. “I work there, woman. Plus, you’ve got a killer bod and a tolerably attractive face.”

  I scowled, but I was smiling so my scowl lost a lot of its effect. “Tolerably attractive? Wow . . . thanks.”

  She smirked. “Oh, come on. You know you’re way too hot for your own good.”

  I dismissed her compliment with a flick of my hand. “Shut up.”

  “Can we get out of here already? My sh
ift starts in an hour.” She swept her mass of blonde curls off her shoulder.

  When we walked out of my bedroom, we found Jeb sitting in the living room, watching a fishing show with Derek.

  “Ciao, Mr. C.,” Sarah called out.

  “Bye, Sar—” His eyes all but bounded out of their sockets. “Um. You girls are going out dressed like that?”

  I looked down at my dress, partly amused by his reaction and partly worried he might make me change.

  “That’s what kids wear these days,” Derek said before pointing to the screen. “Jeb, check out that monster bass.”

  Jeb glanced at the TV, but then his gaze returned to us. “What time will you be home?”

  “I’ll have her back here by one,” Sarah said.

  “One?” he all but sputtered.

  “I’m seventeen, Jeb,” I said quietly. Since when was he worried what time I got home? It wasn’t as though he’d cared much back when I was living at the inn.

  He rubbed his bearded chin. “Okay.” He hadn’t shaved since Everest’s funeral, as though marking the terrible day by the length of his facial hair. “And, Sarah, if you’re driving, don’t drink. But if you do drink, call me, and I’ll pick you girls up.”

  “We’re wolves, Mr. C. Can’t die in car crashes.”

  We could, though.

  A flash of pain illuminated Jeb’s face.

  Sarah winced. “Shit. I’m so sorry.”

  He wrung his fingers together in his lap and studied them. “Just be careful, all right?” he croaked. Before we could leave, he added, “Are any of the boys going to be at The Den tonight?”

  “They’re always there.”

  Not that we need boys, I wanted to add, but put a lid on that thought. If the presence of males appeased my uncle, then who was I to rattle his peace of mind?

  Once we were tucked inside Sarah’s Mini, she said, “I really put my foot in my mouth back there.”

  “It’s fine.”

  She shook her head and sighed. After a beat, she said, “It’s sort of sweet how protective he’s become of you.”

  I stabbed my seatbelt into the buckle. “It’s sort of weird. He wasn’t like this before.” I stared at the squares of light in our downstairs neighbor’s place, an ancient woman who only ever came out of her house to water the patch of grass and flowers she called a back yard. “It’s as though I’m his replacement kid.”