by T. J. Klune
We became lost in our own thoughts then. The waitress eventually brought out our food. Mark’s foot was pressed up against mine, touching, always touching.
I looked down at my soup and said, “I’m glad we’re friends. Still. After all this time.”
He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. I think the pounding of my heart spoke for the both of us.
AT SOME point during the third month, we became cohesive.
There were still times where we clashed. You couldn’t have twelve people together like that and always get along.
But the clashes were few and far between, and were always shut down before they could escalate into something more.
Most stayed at either the Bennett house or the old house more often than they didn’t. Joe and I didn’t think to move from my old bedroom, even though the bed was too cramped. We fell asleep together, we woke together. We would rise in the mornings, him to take the wolves out into the woods, me to lead the boys to the garage, Jessie to work, a line of cars rolling through Green Creek in the early hours.
No matter what, though, every morning Joe would touch the wolf he’d given me, that little stone wolf that sat on my desk. He’d run his fingers over it, over the head and down the back to the tail. There would be a look of such reverence on his face, like he couldn’t believe I’d kept it, that I still wanted to keep it.
Without fail, we’d be late, because I’d have him pressed up against a wall, groaning as I sucked on his tongue.
He’d push for more. For me to fuck him. For him to fuck me.
But I couldn’t. Not yet.
I’d seen what had happened to Elizabeth when Thomas had died.
I’d seen how far she’d gone into her wolf.
If something happened to me now, well. I knew they would be upset. They’d feel it down to their bones. Joe might not recover. Or he would, and be stronger for it.
But if we were mated and something happened to me?
I didn’t think Joe could come back from that.
Because being mated meant being more than we were now.
He wanted it. I knew that. I wanted it more than anything else.
But I couldn’t do that to him. Just in case. I couldn’t take that chance.
Most likely we’d always have something over our heads. But I couldn’t think of anything worse than Richard Collins.
I told myself again and again that once he was gone, I would take everything Joe would give me.
Because Richard would be gone. He wouldn’t take this from me. From us. We were stronger than we’d ever been before. We were together. We were a pack like we’d never been before, all of us. We worked together. We lived together. We ate together. We were a family, and I’d already lost too many people to ever allow anyone else to be taken from me again. If it meant giving up my own life to make sure they were safe, then fine. So be it. As long as they were safe, I would have done my job as Alpha.
I didn’t want to die. But I wanted them to live more. And there was guilt with that.
Because I was there at night when the nightmares came. Joe Bennett was twenty-one years old, but he still dreamed of the things that had been done to him. Whenever he would start thrashing and whimpering, caught in the claws of whatever was in his head, I would wrap myself around him, holding him tightly, whispering in his ear that he was safe, that he was home, that I would never let anything happen to him. Not while I still breathed.
He would always sleep deeper after that. Safe, while I watched over him.
This was my family.
These people were my pack.
I would have done anything for them.
Which is why when Richard Collins came again, he came for me.
beast
THE BEAST said, “Hello, Ox.”
My grip tightened on the phone.
I tried to keep my heart from racing.
The wolves were in the woods, running in the early afternoon sun. The full moon had been six days before and they were working off excess energy that still coursed through them.
The humans were sprawled out around me. Gordo was farther away, sitting cross-legged, eyes closed as he took in deep, slow breaths, his fingers curling in the grass below him.
It was a peaceful day. Soon, we would go back home to start dinner. It was a Sunday. It was tradition. Elizabeth had found a new meatloaf recipe she wanted to try. I was going to make a cucumber salad.
I said, “Hello.”
Richard Collins laughed quietly. “I can hear them. The way they breathe around you. The wolves are… farther, but if I strain. If I listen hard enough, I’m sure I could hear Carter and Kelly. Mark. Elizabeth. Robbie, is it? The new one. The new Beta bitch of yours. And Joe, of course. The prodigal son returned home to the land of his father. A prince and the kingdom of the fallen king. Tell me, Oxnard. Does it burn knowing I put my hands on him first? Does it just curdle your stomach to know my fingers traced his skin before you ever could?”
I said, “Maybe. But never again.”
Richard said, “Oh, Ox. Tell me you don’t really believe that. Listen. Are you listening?”
“Yes.”
“I want you to leave them. Now. We have much to discuss, you and I.”
“Ox.”
I snapped my head up.
Rico was looking at me. “Everything okay?” he asked.
I nodded and gave him a tight smile. “Just gotta take this,” I said, trying to keep anything from leaking through the bonds. Alphas, I’d been taught, could dull even the strongest of their emotions so as to not put them on their Betas, their pack.
I thought, My mother was a wonderful woman.
I thought, She was great and very kind.
I thought, I love my family.
I thought, Joe came home, he’s home and he’s here to stay.
I thought, I won’t let anyone hurt them because pack, because love, because home.
My heartbeat slowed.
The back of my neck was slick with sweat.
My skin felt tight.
But my heartbeat still slowed.
Rico cocked his head at me. Jessie looked up with a frown.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” I said. I even smiled, a terrible, false thing that felt too wide.
They nodded.
I pushed myself up to my feet, keeping the phone at my ear as I walked away from all of them.
In the opposite direction of the wolves.
I could hear every breath he took.
The scrape of his tongue against his teeth.
I thought of calming things, like how the cucumber salad would taste, crisp and sweet, like tradition, even. The sweat trickled down my back. The sunlight burned through the trees. I thought all the birds had fallen silent, that the entire forest had fallen silent, but it was just the blood rushing in my ears.
I felt like I walked for days in the trees.
It was only minutes.
I said, “I’m alone. And away.”
“Are you?” he asked. “I’ll be honest. I expected a bit more… resistance from you.”
“I could be lying.”
“You could be,” Richard said. “But you’re not. Your heart is remarkably steady. In fact, the control you seem to be exhibiting is extraordinary. How is it that you can do what you do?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No,” he said harshly. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to play me like that, Oxnard. Not today. Not ever. You think you know what I’m capable of, but you have no idea. I told you, Ox. I am the monster.”
“I don’t give a damn who you are. You will never—”
“Do you know Mr. Fordham?”
That stopped me, because I didn’t understand. Mr. Fordham was an old guy that came into the garage every now and then. I remembered when Gordo had given him a reduced price on the catalytic converter because Mr. Fordham hadn’t been able to afford it. That was just the type of person Gordo had
been—still was, even—and the look on Mr. Fordham’s face had been something extraordinary, so sweet and kind and just grateful at what Gordo had done for him. When he’d heard Gordo was back in town, he’d come in and shook his hand and just talked to him.
“Ox,” Richard said softly. “I asked you a question.”
“Yes,” I said, feeling detached. “I know him.”
“Did you know that he had a doctor’s appointment today? One he needed to leave Green Creek for. He’s an older man, you know. The heart tends not to tick like it used to. He’s also rather fearless, if you ask me. Especially in light of all my teeth.”
No. No, no, no.
“What did you do?”
He laughed. “Ox. I haven’t done anything yet. But I will now. Here. Say good-bye.”
The phone was shuffled for a moment as I gripped my own tighter. The sun was too bright. Everything felt too real.
Then, “Ox,” a wavering voice said.
“Mr. Fordham,” I breathed.
“You listen to me, boy,” he said, like he had a spine of steel. “I don’t know who he is or what he wants, but you don’t give it to him. You hear me? You don’t give it to him. His eyes, Ox. His eyes are colors I can’t even imagine. He can’t get in, they can’t get in, so the only way is for you to come out. So don’t you do it. Don’t you do it—”
There was a wet slap against the phone.
I knew that sound.
The sound of the skin on a neck separating.
The sound of blood spilling.
Mr. Fordham, eighty years old if he was a day, choked as he died. I could hear the rattle in his throat.
“Ox?” Richard said. “Are you still there?”
“I’ll kill you,” I said. “I will find you. And I will kill you.”
“Well, you’ll certainly try,” Richard said, sounding amused. “I must admit, Ox, I’ve never really met one such as yourself. I may have underestimated you the day when I killed your mother. That’s not something I’ll do again. And, ah, there it is. Oh, Ox. Your heart. It’s beating so fast.”
It was. It was. It was, and I couldn’t stop it. The anger. The rage. I thought maybe I understood now why Joe did what he did. Why he left. What he knew he needed to do even if it meant tearing himself from everything and everyone he knew. I got it now. Because I could do the same.
I was not a wolf.
But I wanted to give myself over to the wolf so bad.
I said, “What do you want?”
“That’s better,” Richard said. “Because it is about what I want. It’s simple, Ox. You will come to me. And you will come alone.”
“I won’t let you use me to bring Joe. I will never let you have him.”
“It’s not about Joe. It’s about you, Ox.”
A meadowlark sang out somewhere overhead, a thin and aching song.
“What about me? I’m nothing. I’m not—”
“They kept you from me,” Richard said. “And it might have stayed that way. But they didn’t count on David King. They never even thought about him. Do you know what he told me, Ox? While I spilled his blood. He was begging me to stop, begging me to just let him go, please, to please just stop, I’ll do anything you want, please, please, please.” His voice had gone high-pitched and mocking before he chuckled. “He did tell me things, Ox. Before I tore his head from his body. He told me things about you.”
I said nothing, because I knew where this was going. I closed my eyes and wished it wasn’t so.
“Alpha,” Richard breathed in my ear.
“THERE YOU are,” Elizabeth said.
I stood in the doorway to the kitchen. I could hear the others moving around outside. And upstairs. And in the living room.
“Sorry,” I said. “Phone call I had to take. Work thing.”
I kept my voice even. I kept my heart steady. I was in a house of wolves and they would know everything if I let the mask slip even the littlest bit.
“Everything all right?”
I smiled at her. “Everything is fine.”
Her gaze lingered a moment before she nodded. “Well. This dinner won’t cook itself. Get to work, Ox. There’s much to be done.”
“HEY.”
I looked up from the onions I was dicing.
Joe arched an eyebrow at me, leaning against the counter. He crossed his arms over his chest, muscles bulging from the residual pull of the moon. He was beautiful because he was Joe. He was beautiful because he was mine.
“Hey,” I said and it was getting harder already. I didn’t know how I was going to get through this.
“Where’d you go?”
“Phone call,” I said as I shrugged. “Took longer than I thought.”
“Yeah? Work thing?”
I nodded, not daring to speak. I looked back down at the onions.
“Joe,” Elizabeth scolded. “Stop distracting my help. He’s going to cut something off if you keep posing like that. Don’t be gross in my kitchen. Go find something else to do.”
Joe blushed and started sputtering.
I tightened my grip on the knife and swallowed through the lump in my throat.
“I wasn’t posing,” Joe said.
“Totally posing,” Elizabeth said.
“Ox—”
“Totally posing,” I managed to say.
“Fine,” he said. “I can tell when I’m not wanted.”
No, I almost said. You’re always wanted.
I always want you.
I never want to leave you.
I never want to say good-bye.
I’m sorry, Joe.
I’m so sorry.
I said, “For just a little while.”
“Yeah?” Joe said. “And then you’ll want me? I feel so used.”
I nodded.
“Hey,” he said, and he was right by my side, pressed up against me, nose pressed against my neck. “I was just joking. You know I don’t mean it like that.”
“Yeah,” I said.
He kissed my jaw. “I’ll leave you to it, then. And later, I’ll let you show me how much you want me.”
He smacked my ass and cackled as he left the room.
WE SAT down to Sunday dinner, all twelve of us. Because it was tradition. It was what the pack did.
I sat at the head of the table. Joe was at my right. I’d told him before that he should have his father’s chair. He’d shaken his head and said I looked good where I was. No one tried to say he should have sat at the opposite end of the table like his mother and father had. It felt better to have him at my side.
The table was cluttered with food. Our pack laughed and smiled as they served themselves and each other. They fell silent, one by one, waiting.
The Alphas always took the first bite. For the wolves it was instinct. For the humans it was now routine. No one ever complained, because it was just how things where.
I picked up my fork.
I could do this.
I had to do this.
I put down the fork, because I couldn’t do this. Not without saying good-bye.
Joe’s hand covered mine.
I looked up at him.
He was watching me, concern on his face. “Ox?”
I said, “Sorry. It’s just… it’s been a long day. I’m a little tired.”
“You sure?”
I gave him a small smile. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m sure.”
I hoped it was enough for him to believe me.
I turned away from him to the others.
I said, “I, uh. I don’t talk. Very good. Or a lot. It’s. It’s something my dad broke in me, I think. Sometimes it’s hard for me to think of the right thing to say. I get worried that I’ll just make things worse.”
Joe squeezed my hand.
I said, “So I don’t say what I should. Like how much I love you. All of you. How much I need you. How there are days I can’t believe you put your trust in me. Your faith. Because I’m just Ox, you know? My daddy told me once that I was go
nna get shit. All my life. And for a long time, I did. And I thought maybe that’s all there was. But then—I. I found people. People who didn’t care that I was a little slower than others. That I was bigger. That I said stupid shit. And I just…. You’re my family. Okay? You’re my family. My pack. And whatever happens, whatever comes our way, I need you to remember that. That you have each other, no matter what.”
My mouth felt dry, my tongue thick. Joe’s grip on my hand would leave bruises if he kept it up. Elizabeth was wiping her eyes. Mark had that secret smile on his face. Robbie looked at me like he was in awe. Carter and Kelly smiled dopily, like they were teenage boys again, like they hadn’t been to hell and back. Rico, Tanner, and Chris had their heads bowed. Jessie had her arm around her brother’s shoulder, pressing her forehead against his cheek. And Gordo. Gordo, Gordo, Gordo.
He was frowning.
I said, “And now that it’s awkward….”
People laughed.
I made a show of taking the first bite.
Joe’s hand never left mine.
And Gordo never looked away.
THE BENNETT boys were doing the dishes. The humans were on their way to their own homes. Robbie and Mark were in the library. Elizabeth was painting and it was green, green, green.
Gordo said, “Walk with me, Ox.”
I hesitated.
He jerked his head toward the front door.
I sighed but followed him out.
He waited until he knew we were out of earshot of the wolves.
He said, “I know you.”
The day was beginning to darken.
“Long time,” I said, unsure where this was going.
“And we tell each other most things. Because that’s the way we are.”
“Sure, Gordo.”
“Is there anything you want to tell me now?”
I forced myself to look at him. “What do you mean?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “I’m not stupid, Ox.”
“I never said you were.”
“Something’s wrong.”
“With what?”
“You.”
I snorted. “Many things.”