Puppy Problems: A Reverse Harem Werewolf Romance (Her Secret Menagerie Book 3)

by Katelyn Beckett

  I stubbornly stared at the road and tried to silence my thoughts. Hudson wasn't why we were a pack; he wasn't anything more powerful or more impressive than any one of us. He'd just been the brains, the leadership factor, behind most of our endeavors. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd have found a better way to deal with a rampaging dragon flight than Sadie having to stand on her own two feet against it.

  Then again, hadn't he been smashed against a wall for trying to deal with just that? Eskal and the Nightflight had run rogue. We'd gone to confront and banish them from the area before things got too hot. Now he was laid up in a dog hospital, trying to heal through injuries that were... well, I wouldn't have wished them on anyone. Werewolves could pull themselves through a lot. He'd come along eventually. But...

  We drove into the fading day, the sun falling directly in my eyes. My sunglasses only did so much but we got home safe and sound, beating Sadie by about ten minutes. She hauled the Hummer into view, turned it off, and jumped out only to run around the back and start pulling kennels out. Leo and I joined her.

  "So, I got sent to prison today. Pretty big deal," Leo joked. "Anything interesting happen to you, honey?"

  Sadie gave him a flat look. "And why did you end up in jail?"

  "Punched Willem in the face like he deserved."

  "You're aware he can sue us for that and probably will?"

  Leo shrugged. "Guy was a jackass and was being rude to the protesters, who just want their homes and businesses fixed up. Not our fault there were dragon eggs or that the Nightflight went nuts, but it's still our property. You end up with anyone hurt up at the sanctuary?"

  "No," she grunted, heaving a crate out of the back. I grabbed it and helped her put it down. The dog inside was short, squat, but weighted in at something special.

  "Someone needs to go on a diet," I whispered to the dog. It wiggled at me like it was about to explode if it couldn't disperse all that energy.

  The last crate slid out, a silly little three-legged terrier of some sort, and I scooped Sadie up in my arms. Leo went for it at the same time I did and our forehead smacked together above her head. I flinched, but I wasn't about to let Sadie see it. My omega was trembling, cold to the touch, and worn out. I tucked my chin over her, wrapped my arms around Leo, and sandwiched them together against my chest.

  "I promise I'm okay," Sadie whispered, but her heart wasn't in it.

  We nuzzled her among the panting dogs and mewling cats until she cracked, sniffling against my neck. "It's okay, sweetheart. We're right here. You're safe. All the animals are safe."

  "Why's she got to be so horrible?" Sadie asked, tears straining her voice. "She could just go her stuff. She could just go and leave all of us out of it if she's gotta be some big dumb alpha about it."

  "She's trying to put you in your place," Leo sighed. "She's just being an ass about it. You stood up to her in front of all those other shifters. That means she's pissed off about it because a little omega wolf ran her off with logic and cold, hard facts. Alashia probably has someone laughing at her in her flight. It's not just about ego. It's about how she looks to everyone else. It's about keeping control of her flight in her claws."

  Sadie looked between us. "Did I do something wrong? It was hard to stand up to her, but it had to be done. Didn't it?"

  " 'Course it did," I told her. "You did just fine. It's not your fault that she's being such a hardass about it. She could have decided to take matters into her own paws. There was no reason for her to interfere with the Meet. You want to know who to be mad at? Talk to the phoenixes. They brought her into this."

  A shadow passed across her face, something between mutiny and fury. That wasn't what my girl usually looked like and I didn't much care for it. Murder came from expressions like that. "Then all that means is that the phoenixes had a problem with us from the get-go."

  "No, it means the phoenixes had a problem with the Nightflight from the start," Leo said thoughtfully. "but I don't know of any drama with them in the past. Craven and his rook usually stick to themselves."

  I rolled my eyes. "His name's not Craven. Just because he's the type that tends to play things on the down-low doesn't make him a coward."

  Sadie watched the two of us and slowly withdrew. "We need to get these animals somewhere safe, and then we need to sit down and have a meeting. Eli and Jeremiah were following me in to make sure I got here safe, but they got stopped by a construction zone worker. I didn't really expect our pack and the unicorns to form an alliance, but if Alashia is trying to start a war over something like this, maybe we're going to have to."

  That said, she picked up two crates and walked inside. I watched her go, grabbing two in hand as well. We spent the next twenty minutes slowly moving animals inside to be sorted. Sadie would know which ones preferred outdoor living, which ones would be more comfortable in the indoor-outdoor shelters, and which cats preferred to be away from other cats.

  Lillian stepped out to help us as well, Tommy happily following us and talking to the animals in the cages.

  "It be okay," he told the little tripod. "We're your friends now."

  "Yeah?" I asked him, sitting the dog's kennel down. "You gonna be his best pal?"

  Tommy beamed up at me, "My doggie."

  Uh oh. His doggie? I glanced at Sadie, who cocked her head to the side. "Your doggie?"

  "My doggie."

  Over she came, carefully opening the kennel and drawing the dog out. He'd been the last of the bunch brought in and I had to wonder if that had attracted Tommy to him. Sadie cupped the little terrier in her arms, but the dog only had eyes for Tommy.

  "My doggie," he repeated, and reached out to stroke the dog's head.

  His little ears flopped backward as he wiggled for the kid, absolutely over the moon to have someone petting him. Across the room, Bosco howled his fool head off and I shushed him. Boc-boc and Tommy had spent months wrestling as pup and dog all over the house, but Bosco was Sadie's dog.

  And they say that every kid should have a pet. Tommy was right about the perfect age and She knew that we had plenty of room for another pooch in the house.

  "Picks his dog, his mom; we oughta get him to grab lottery numbers," Leo whispered to me as Tommy drew the dog out of Sadie's arms and, carefully, hugged him against his chest.

  Sadie blew a stray strand of hair from her face and nodded. "Okay. We'll do it on a trial basis. What's that mean, kiddo?"

  "That if it duddent work out then he goes to somewhere else," Tommy said, his words uncertain.

  The idea of a trial basis had been floated a few times for dogs that had been permanently added to the household, usually ones that were near their deaths or ones that needed other canines to help it calm down. Over the past while, there'd only been one addition; a little silky mutt who loved to eat my shoes. He'd passed away of inoperable brain cancer about a month ago. Tommy was still coping with it, though the boy knew what death was. He'd brought down his first deer with Hudson just six months earlier.

  "That's right," Sadie said. "This is Tres. We'll help you learn to take care of him and teach you what you need to do to make him happy. If you guys aren't a good fit, then we'll find him a really good home where he'll be comfortable. Okay?"

  "Okay," Tommy said.

  He hugged the dog closer and I knew that look in his eyes. I'd seen it in his dad.

  Tres was here to stay.

  Chapter Nine

  Sadie

  Would werewolf puppies understand canine body language? Would an alpha pup respect it?

  Well, if not, that was what werewolf healing capabilities and kisses for bite wounds were for.

  Tommy and Tres scampered off to play and I walked to the kitchen, a headache coming on. I didn't feel that it was particularly fair that I still got headaches despite the whole werewolf thing, but I wasn't the one who decided things like that.

  "You holding up okay?" Lillian asked, slicing peppers for dinner.

  I came over to help her, getting started o
n the carrots. She made the best jambalaya I'd ever had in my life. "No. I'm trying, but I'm not. Maybe it's because it shouldn't be me."

  "It probably shouldn't."

  I scowled over at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "You're an omega. You're not supposed to be leading a group of alphas around as they try to sort out the problems of the world," Lillian shrugged, dumping her peppers into the pot. Out came an onion to be otherwise vivisected as its pepper friends had been.

  My chopping got a little more aggressive. "I'm an omega but I'm not an idiot. We can't out ourselves to the world. We can't run this without caring who sees what. She's being insane."

  "She's trying to do what she feels is best."

  I'd had enough. I upended the knife and rammed it into the cutting board, advancing on the alpha bitch beside me. "I don't care about this ridiculous alignment stuff. I know it's real, but it shouldn't be the be-all, end-all of every damned thing. My family needs me to step up. Our community needs someone there to calm them down. No one else is doing it!"

  Lillian continued with her knife, a little smile appearing on her face. "You're a very spicy omega. Most wouldn't dare speak to an alpha like that. And that's why she doesn't like you. Because omegas are supposed to sit behind their alphas and let them speak, no matter if they're male or female. Omegas are supposed to be the quiet ones. You aren't. And it threatens her. I overheard what the guys said outside. They're right. You don't fit in with tradition, Sadie Faye. The dragons are about as tradition-bound as any group of shifters get."

  "You're riling me up just so you have my attention?" I growled, the hair on my arms standing on end.

  She grinned. "Isn't it fun? You're angry. I'm ready to roll around on the ground and tug your hair, if it comes to it. Alpha, omega."

  "You're the worst." I went back to my cutting board and savaged the remaining carrots, watching them die with a deep-seated pleasure. Each one was one of her fingers. Snip, snap, pop.

  In went the onions. She dumped a load of oil into the bottom of the stock pot and let it heat. "Thanks for the help with the carrots. And I'm definitely not the worst. You get your little tail bred today while I was out with the kids?"

  "We had a little fun," I admitted, offering the finished board to her.

  The carrots joined the rest. "Good. You've needed it. All of you were strung as tight as rubber bands."

  "Yeah? Then when do you go catting around and find some hot little omega to kick around?"

  Lillian froze. The whites around her eyes widened and I could smell the upset roll off of her. Anger, yes, but fear? I hadn't expected that. She smacked the board on the counter much harder than was necessary. "I don't. Never again."

  "You never date anyone. You never go out or party. I mean, you were literally a nun," I said, leaning against the counter. "Are you okay?"

  "I'm not interested. Watch the pot. When it's all soft, call me," Lillian snapped.

  She wiped her hands off on a kitchen towel and left. Whatever had happened in her past, she never wanted to talk about it. She was part of our pack and I wanted to know, I wanted to help her through it. Some people didn't want to have relationships and that was fine, but hers was obviously based on some sort of discomfort. And that wasn't good for her.

  I sighed and stirred the pot a few times, my head pounding behind my ears. It was as if someone had rammed a pole across the soft part of my skull, banging it until it caused such pain. The pile of crated animals was mercifully quiet. Tylenol wasn't the greatest thing, I thought as I opened the kitchen medicine cabinet, but it would cut into the headache a little bit.

  The door chimed just as I downed the pills. It was an explosion of dogs, cataclysmic and louder than anything I'd ever experienced. I flinched, clapping my hands over my ears as they went off. "Can someone get that?!"

  Footsteps, fast and long-legged, probably Xavion. Gabe hushed the dogs as he came in, his voice soft and understanding. Amid the scents of my pack mates and the many dogs I'd need to sort through soon was a heady spring shower with plenty of fresh hay and something that reminded me of a desert.

  Elijah, a unicorn stallion in Jeremiah's herd, walked into the kitchen and offered me a bottle of pills. "Better than the stuff on the pharmacy shelves. Figured you might have a migraine after the smelling salts. You need help with all these hounds?"

  His drawl was as familiar as mine. I grabbed the bottle, popped it open, and took a few of those, too. The unicorns knew their herbalism a hell of a lot better than I did.

  "It hurts, but it's not so bad I can't cope," I told him, checking the pot again. "Just so long as the dogs don't all go off at once. But I'd appreciate your help getting everyone put up, if you have time. I know I asked you all here, but I'm sure you have other things to do, too."

  Jeremiah stretched as he entered, wearing a band t-shirt and a pair of slacks. "Work's closed today, dragon hasn't been seen. I don't see any reason to try to stress ourselves over somethin' that ain't happenin' right now. You tell us where these guys go, you can just stand there and cook us up a mess of food."

  "Let me go get the folders. I'll be right back," I told him, giving the pot a quick glance before I ran out to the Hummer.

  My alphas came down to help out as well, each wolf carefully handling the dogs as the unicorns matched up the pictures in the folders. I didn't bother Lillian, instead using the recipe I'd seen her make a thousand times. She did enough for us as it was; she needed a break and I intended to give her one.

  One by one, each dog was tucked safely into its new kennel, crate, or combined lodging facility. Only two came to live in the house; an ancient long-haired girl who instantly became best friends with Lady, and a grumpy old man with a wire coat and an eye missing. Neither needed to risk being out in the chill, though the days were still barely what I considered to be brisk.

  By the time they'd sorted everyone, dinner was ready. I grabbed a tray, piled bowls and spoons on it, then went to set the table. It only took a few minutes, but it was still a job for someone whose head was only thumping rather than feeling like a bell that'd been rung.

  Speaking of, I grabbed the triangle's clanger and smacked the hell of it. We'd all gotten tired of sending texts to the family group chat about meals, so we'd just installed a triangle above the kitchen door. Plus, it helped signal to exploring puppies that it was time for dinner.

  In the midst of the guys working, I'd whipped together a quick cornbread batch. I yawned, walked over to the oven, and pulled all the little muffins out. Six trays, but I was feeding five kids and seven adults, not to mention all the dogs that would get a snack here and there. Carrie Ann plodded into the kitchen and stretched, then yawned as hard as she could.

  "Whadda big yawn!" I told her, obviously very impressed.

  She wagged her old, arthritic tail and grumped under the table just about where Tommy usually sat. I was certain that she didn't mean to tell on her best buddy, but she certainly was. I shook my head and grabbed the stew pot, hefting it over to the star-shaped trivet I'd laid out over the tablecloth. We'd serve the kids, but everyone else was on their own.

  Besides, that made it easier. Everyone got what they wanted and-

  "Jeremiah?" I called, realizing something.

  There was a crash and then a bright, cheerful, "Yeah?"

  "You're not vegetarians, right?"

  A pause. "What?"

  "I said, you're not vegetarians. Right?"

  He walked into the kitchen and blinked at me; a cat wrapped in a towel so they could trim her claws. His arms were covered in scratches, each healing at the speed of light. "We go on hunts the same as you, we're just better browsers than you are. What, does it have hamburger in it?"

  "Well, venison."

  "Sounds perfect. Give me a second with her and we'll all be right in. She's the last one."

  The cat and he disappeared once more. There was a bit of cursing in the bathroom nearest the kitchen but even as I moved to stick my head around the edge, a
flood of puppies ran past me and dove into their seats. The quads were more than happy to forego a spoon and simply duck their whole snouts into their bowls. Tommy had been the same until a few months ago, when he'd decided he was a big boy who wanted to eat the way the adults did.

  Speaking of, he walked in with Tres at his ankles. Already the dog wore a thin red ribbon around his neck. Carrie Ann growled at the terrier, but I tapped the floor with my shoe and she snorted at me, laying her head down again. When you were older than dirt, sometimes arguing about things just didn't matter so much anymore.

  I loved her so much.

  The rest of the pack filtered in bit by bit, though I had to ring the triangle again to get Lillian to come down. I tried to ignore her red eyes and smudged makeup, but I just couldn't. I swung an arm around her, hugged her to my chest, and let her go all in the same motion. She stiffened when I touched her, but slowly took her seat and sat, head bowed.