by Dizzy Hooper
Best case scenario, it's just something wrong with my alpha—which is pretty fucking bad, let's be honest.
Worst case… Well, I don't even want to think about the worst.
My tone goes pleading. "But I need to know."
"Landen?"
"Yeah?"
"Go get her laptop."
My laptop? Okay, now nothing makes sense. I look around, bewildered, following Landen with my gaze as he pads to the attached living room and retrieves my computer from the coffee table. He returns and places it in front of me, and my heart is racing, dread settling in the pit of my stomach. A ghost of a whine escapes my lips, so high and soft that no human could hear it.
But no one in this room is human. Landen pauses, putting both hands on my shoulders. He squeezes tight, and that helps, it really does. Colt reaches out for my hand. The touch of skin on skin eases the wild, scared animal in my blood.
Then he gestures at my laptop with his other hand. "Go on. Open it up."
I cast him another skeptical look, but he waits patiently. I humor him, flipping up the top and logging in.
"Go to the calendar."
"You're really starting to freak me out," I admit, but he just urges me on.
I pull up the calendar. The month ahead flashes onto the screen, the dates marked in a rainbow of colors.
"I don't see what this has to do with—"
"Look closer."
Ugh, why is he torturing me like this? I lean in.
Our shared calendar draws from a whole assortment of different feeds. There's our household's shared personal one, which is generally empty; our life out here in the middle of nowhere is a fairly quiet one. Then there's my professional stuff.
It wasn't easy to leave my life in the city behind. I worked hard for my place there. The pavement and bustle riled my inner wolf while the excitement and my career drew the rest of me on. I'd been doing well there, advancing at my design firm steadily.
When I met my mates, there wasn't any question, though. As soon as my season faded and I could walk on two legs again without wanting to spread them, we went and packed up my things and brought them here. I worked remotely for a couple of weeks so as not to leave my co-workers in the lurch. Then I started my own boutique design shop, doing websites and graphics in my spare time. It's been a wild ride, learning to run my own business, but I've enjoyed the challenge and the income and the sense of having something in my life that's just for me.
My various delivery dates blink at me on the screen, but none of them seem to hold any clues. I squint, scanning deeper into the parts of the calendar I rarely bother to pay attention to.
It took a little while to sort out precisely what my mates did for a living. Turns out, they don't need to do anything. The larger Broken Ladder Falls pack is a wealthy old one, and the members could live off their inheritances for generations. But the days are long.
Turns out, Colt and Landen have a side business of their own, leading tourists in adventure experiences—rock climbing, caving, extreme mountain hikes. I've been able to help with that by revamping their website and setting them up for more e-commerce. They have a decent number of bookings coming up.
As our alpha, Grady is deeply involved in pack politics and affairs. His appointments are marked in gray. I rarely have any reason to look at those. But I focus in on them now.
And in doing so, I realize one glaring fact.
"The twenty-seventh," I say.
Landen's throat clicks with the sound of his dry swallowing. He digs his fingers into my shoulder's deeper, and Colt's grip on my hand tightens.
"Exactly," Colt says.
"There's…nothing. Except…" I squint. "Oh."
My breath catches.
I'd never looked closely enough at Grady's appointments to notice, but the one on that date is marked in a darker shade. I click to read the details.
It's a pack ceremony.
A mourning ceremony.
I snap my gaze up. Colt stares back at me with his dark eyes soft and open. The edges are lined in red. I twist around to see even more naked emotion written on Landen's face.
And I knew—I should have known.
The Broken Ladder Falls pack is famous around the shifter world for a reason. Decades ago, all their females were wiped out by a rival pack in a devious act of treachery, leaving the males behind. Once they took their bloody vengeance, what was left of the pack retreated, going silent as they licked their wounds.
Shifters rarely survive the loss of their mates. So many succumbed to grief. Those who were left were reduced to ghosts, raising their pups the best they could.
And the end of this month…in just a few short weeks…
"Twenty years," Colt breathes out.
Landen makes a choked noise.
They told me when we first mated that they lost everything. Their families were decimated by bloody claws or by loss. Since, they've let a bit slip here and there, but they've mostly remained tight-lipped about their tragedy. Landen would have been too young to remember it happening, but Colt wouldn't.
Grady…
Jesus. No wonder he's been so wrecked and erratic. He's got a decade on Colt and Landen. He would have been on the cusp of manhood. He might even have been old enough to have been there at the deceitful meeting the pack was lured to. He might have been one of the ones to return to home to discover…
I can't even think about it. My heart bleeds, and I turn my hand over, crushing Colt's in my grip.
These men. My alpha.
They've lost so much, and here I am. I feel so selfish and awful. I was only thinking of myself, when their grief was ripping them apart from the inside.
"I'm so sorry…"
"Don't be." Colt rubs his thumb across my knuckles, his gaze intense. "The anniversary gets us every year. We should have told you."
"But it was better," Landen insists. "You don't even know. You can't. Before you, we all sat here, getting angry with each other for no reason. Grady would go full wolf and prowl the woods for most of the month."
"But he's here this time. You ground us."
"You give us something to live for," comes Grady's voice from behind us.
I startle, jerking around to see him. He's standing by the door, doing up the belt of his jeans. The scent of fresh leaves clings to him. He must have run directly from our bed to the forest past our clearing, seeking calm from the beast within.
Colt releases my hand, and Landen steps back, but neither of them retreats far. Grady stalks across the space, and my breathing goes shallow.
Then he drops to his knees before me.
The scent of something wild is even stronger now that he's close. I can see that wildness in his eyes, too, the amber still glowing slightly from his transformation. He takes my hands in his, and the heat of his skin burns me through.
"I'm sorry." His voice is deep and gravelly. "I thought I could keep it to myself, but I see now. I upset you."
I'm shaking my head before he's even finished. "No, I—"
"I did." His self-flagellation puts lines on his brow.
Pulling one of my hands from his grip, I reach forward. I press my thumb to the center of those worried creases, trying to smooth them out. It gets him to smile, at least a little bit. He takes my hand in his again and clasps them both together between us.
"I never want to be a burden to you," he says. Quiet vulnerability colors his tone.
And it's not as if my big strong alpha never shows his sensitive side. The day I met him, he told me the truth about his pack and his family, and I could see the hidden weaknesses within him then.
I see them now, and they do not trouble me. "You're not. You never could be." I lick my lips, considering my words carefully. "You do so much for me, alpha. All of you do. I want to know your pain. I want to help you through it."
"You do—"
"But more. I want to know what you're feeling. You have to tell me."
Grady's inner conflict shows in hi
s eyes. He wants to be strong for me—I know that. But he can't shut me out.
"Help me," I plead. I flip our hands so that I'm the one holding his instead of the other way around. "Help me understand what I can do to make it better."
Something in him cracks. "But that's just it. You do. You make it better just by being here. By loving us."
"Then that's what I'll do."
How could I possibly not? These males are mine—my mates. I love them with every fiber of my being, and if my presence, my tender care can help to ease their sorrows, then I'll shower them with it. I'll give them every ounce of love and solace in my heart.
Desperate to show that, I lean forward.
Grady's lips yield to mine, plush and hot. I've been kissing this man for almost five months now. I wear his mark and he wears mine, and yet, there's something new to the taste of his mouth.
He's let me see a little deeper into the tragedy that made him the man he is—the man I love.
They all have.
Just as the kiss begins to heat up, I pull away. I reach to the side, and Landen comes to me easily. His lips meet mine with as much openness to them as our alpha's. He licks forward, entwining our tongues, but only for a moment.
When I turn to my other side, Colt is there. His kiss is darker, wetter.
It barely gets off the ground before Grady is pulling me back to him again. Only instead of recapturing my mouth, he presses his brow to mine.
"Say you'll come with us."
"Anywhere."
He shushes away my eagerness. "To the ceremony. The memorial."
Oh. My heart squeezes hard. "Of course."
"It'll be a lot, I know. Emotional. You'll meet the rest of the pack."
"I've met enough of them." My mates are good friends with several of the local sub-packs. They've showed me off with pride.
For a moment, I get distracted, remembering how proud they were. How hungry their friends were—for companionship, for a female of their own. For sex.
I remember how desperately my mates take me every time their friends retreat. How they love to bite and mark me while they're deep inside, re-staking their claims and reminding me to whom I belong.
As if I could ever forget.
A whiff of my desire must hit the air, because Grady's nostrils flare. He crushes me closer to him.
"You'll meet more of them. So many more."
And is that…a hint of insecurity? He can't possibly…
But then again, this morning I was wondering if maybe he regretted mating me. When it's so obvious, now, here in the light of their revelations that nothing could be further from his mind.
Well, nothing could be further from mine, either.
"I'll go," I promise, voice fierce. "I'll support you, any way I can. You know that."
"I know."
"And after…"
Fire burns in his eyes. "After?"
"I'll remind you just how much I love you—and just how much you have to live for."
I'll show them with my arms and my kiss. With my words and with my body. I'll take them deep inside.
Over and over and over again.
Until no kind of doubt can remain.
Chapter 4
Later that night, I'm sitting in Landen's room, tending to a few last chores before heading to bed. He's already stripped down to just his boxers and a tight-fitting T-shirt that shows off his leanly muscled runner's physique. I admire the bulges of his forearms and biceps and shoulders, already thinking about what naughty things we could get up to tonight.
I'm not exactly on a rotation with the guys, in terms of who I choose to sleep with each night. I usually end up with Grady, but despite everything he said this morning about my love and companionship buoying him up as the anniversary approaches, he was giving off strong vibes of wanting a little time to himself.
And Landen…
I don't quite want to say that there's something off about him. But he's usually chatty as hell. His impetuousness and youth show. He has an opinion about everything. But this evening, he's seen fit to keep most of them to himself.
It's weird.
I finish folding the last towel and add it to the stack, then move the pile to his dresser to be put away in the morning. With that bit of bed space freed up, I make myself comfortable, lying on my side, braced on one elbow with my head in my hand.
I regard him for a moment, chewing on the inside of my lip. Finally, I break the silence. "You've been awfully quiet today."
Landen looks up from the clothes he'd been putting away. He considers me for a moment, then shrugs. "I guess I have."
"Are you okay?" I stop myself. "I mean, obviously, you're not. No one is. Just…anything you want to talk about?"
He finishes up and closes the drawer. His motions are deliberate, like he's buying time. Finally, after what seems like a long while, he sits down on the opposite edge of the bed.
"I don't remember my mother," he confesses.
My heart hurts for him. "I'm so sorry—"
"It's okay. I mean, it's not—But it is, you know?" He looks over at me, crystal eyes full a mix of both sorrow and resolve. "The others, Colt to certain degree and Grady for real—they know what they're missing. But I…don't."
"That doesn't make what you feel any less important."
"I know. But it also does, somehow. I'm not mourning a person—or hell, people. I'm mourning this hole in my life, only I never knew what was really supposed to fill it."
"That sounds like it could be even harder."
He shrugs again, shaking his head. "It's how it was. I grew up with my cousins. One of the older boys basically raised us. My uncle was a shadow. We had a family friend—a male who'd never mated, and he helped out. I never knew any different."
Something in him feels far away. His gaze has gone distant, and the width of the bed could suddenly be an ocean.
Instead of spouting any platitudes, I shift, moving closer to him. I check in, making sure he sees me coming before reaching out and placing my hand over his. He lets me, welcoming the touch. He squeezes his fingers around mine.
"It was…lonely," he admits. "I had the other boys, and we'd wrestle and run. Our wolves got along great. But none of us were any good at talking. When I was older, I was just grateful Grady took me under his wing."
This is something I actually haven't heard that much about. "How did that happen?"
"I always knew him. Hard guy to miss, you know?" He lets a hint of a smile tilt his lips, and I nod. "But then he, Colt and I were helping out rebuilding a barn for an elder who'd had a fire. We got talking. I was ready to strike out on my own. There were too many young males kicking around my uncle's place, and Grady was ready to start building his pack." He looks up at last. "I moved in, and we all fit. The rest is history."
I feel like there's a lot more there, but I don't want to pry.
I came to understand soon after I arrived here that a big part of how the larger Broken Ladder Falls pack survived was the creation of these smaller sub-packs. There's a huge imbalance to this day, with lots of young male shifters and few females. Some members of the pack have struck out on their own to look for mates and families. But a lot have stayed here, loosely clustered into small functioning units of males who live together, work together.
And apparently, at least in the case of this pack, love together.
When Landen speaks again, his voice is quieter. "I always wanted a family, though. I knew I wasn't likely to find a female out here, but there was a part of me that longed for it. I wanted that belonging. That home. I—"
"What?"
He connects his gaze with mine. "I want someone to pass it on to. I want my pups to grow up someplace happy. Full of life, you know?"
Oh.
My womb gives a little kick, just reminding me it's there—as if I could have forgotten. Apparently my alpha isn't the only one secretly eager to breed me.
"Your pups, huh?" I nudge him with my shoulder playfully, but
my voice cracks.
"Well, yeah. I hope. Someday, you know?"
When these males first proposed taking me as their mate, I asked them what they would do if I didn't want to have children. Grady gritted his teeth and told me it was my choice, but the naked hunger in his had shown. I'd been on the cusp of my season, driven by my hormones to be fucked and bred. But I'd needed to know.
The subject hasn't really come up since, except when Grady's eyed my flat stomach hungrily, or touched my belly while filling me up with his seed.
Except now, when the youngest member of the pack is opening up to me, telling me about his hopes and dreams for the future. And apparently, they involve me.
They involve a family.
And that's a serious discussion, full of serious concerns. We're going to have to talk about it—at length.
But for the moment, all I can think about is the naked hope in his eyes.
The scent of his body, so close.
The act it would take for him to have his fantasy.
My mind is suddenly consumed with the image of me on my back, legs spread while he fucks me and floods my willing body with his thick come.
And it's irreverent. It's awful and selfish.
But it feels like it takes him about fifteen seconds to get on exactly the same page.
Eyes darkening, he scents the air. The perfume of my desire must be strong. He twists, sitting more fully on the bed.
"You like that idea, don't you?" He touches my arm, ghosting the backs of his knuckles over my skin and making me shiver. "Of me filling you with my pups?"
"You have to admit, it has some appeal."
"Some?" His eyes narrow, and he licks his sinfully pouty lips.
In an instant, he's on me. Sometimes, I don't know how he moves so fast. But in the next breath, I'm on my back with him hovering over me. He plants one hand on the bed beside my head and the other on my shoulder, pinning me down.
And I could escape in a heartbeat. He'd never cage me in if I didn't like it. But I do. I love the way my mates manhandle me. How delicate and small I feel inside their strong arms and beneath their muscled frames.