Until I Make You MINE (Wolves of Amrok Hollow)

by Jeanette Lynn

  “I forgot what it’s like to eat with you,” I murmured. Every plate was everyone’s if Ansel was eating with. It had been so long I’d nearly forgotten, but this was a clear refresher course.

  “With you, maybe, and me if he’s in a giving mood or doesn’t want to seem too obvious.” Fynn loudly slurped a spoonful of steaming soup, making annoying mmm sounds.

  “Seem too obvious?” I echoed, eyeing the blue cheese burger half sat in front of me.

  “Dodo over there has always been overbearing when it comes to you, he was just too stupid to act on it. Plus, now that the cat’s out of the bag, I can dish. Our pops told him to shit or get off the pot. Well, he chicken shitted, instead of shitted-shitted, and hopped right off.”

  “Erm... what?” Nope. This was some Twilight Zone bullshit. Maybe in an alternate world, perhaps.

  “Fynn,” Ansel half snarled, the bite of burger in his mouth keeping him from flashing teeth at the younger wolf.

  “What? What the hell does it matter now?” Fynn took another soup slurp, this one louder, longer. My eye twitched, a tick forming along the side of my eyeball, just watching him. Fynn and soup made my blood vessels bulge.

  “When we were in high school and you just disappeared, too cool for your dorky brother and his goober best friend? That was what you were doing? You tortured me in high school!” I burst out. “That was you staking a claim? On what? My sanity? Ansel... you were a giant asshole!”

  “He still is.” Fynn held his spoon aloft, picking up a piece of bread to begin buttering it.

  “I was looking out for you,” Ansel grunted out under his breath. “Sparky was always plotting something stupid. I couldn’t have him dragging you into it.”

  “Such a caring big bro.” Fynn smirked and then noisily tore off a bite of bread with his flat, blunt teeth. He was being disgustingly obnoxious while he ate. It was almost nauseating to watch. There was something in the wolf’s eyes that gave me pause. He kept giving Ansel strange, resigned looks I wasn’t privy to.

  Ansel picked up a piece of bread and tossed it at Fynn. It was a hug, but to your face, made out of bread. Feel that love, buddy. “Besides,” Ansel tossed a glare at Fynn, “Eldritch said I should back off until she gave a sign she was ready.” Looking at me, his lips pursed. Reluctantly, he grumbled, “You’re a dominant female. More dominant than me and I know it. You could unman me as easily as you’d accept a mating to me. I had to...” Pausing, he searched for the word. “I had to let you go, then wait and see.”

  “Wait.” I glanced from brother to brother at the M word as everything really started to sink it. “Fynn, you knew Ansel thought I was his mate? You said he’d been exhibiting possessiveness since we were kids.” The look in my eyes begged the question, why the fuck wait so long and just blurt all this shit now?

  “Power of the Alpha.” Fynn’s lip curled. Meaning Eldritch had used his Alpha persuasion on him to make sure he couldn’t spill the beans, at least not until it was spit out by someone else. Then the dam broke. Fynn sure was going for broke trying to throw Ansel under the bus. Hurt jabbed at my heart, then doubled, tripled, as I stared at my best friend. “You knew how he felt, you knew he was waiting? And you had no problem waiting out my heats with me?” Stunned. Gobsmacked. I felt like his nice gesture had so much more meaning than it should.

  Fynn wasn’t perfect. Impetuous was his middle name. Not literally but you get the picture. But this kind of... it felt like he’d betrayed Ansel and me.

  “Uh...” The blood drained from Fynn’s face and he spluttered. Setting down his spoon and bread, his hands shot out as he scrambled back. Gaze darting around the small café, he gulped, the sound loud in the silence that followed.

  Betrayal struck, hard and fast. Was my best friend really my best freaking friend? Or was I a means to an end for him? “Fynn.” My voice cracked. I was choked up. My head felt a wee bit spinny. Was I just a way to torture his brother?

  It wasn’t until the ringing subsided in my ears and Fynn squeaked and shot off towards the door, that the wild growl filling Ansel’s chest, practically rattling the café’s windows, registered.

  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!!” Fynn shriek-screamed as he took off. “I’m Momma’s favorite! You can’t kill me!”

  Ansel’s roar as he took off after Fynn, already wolfing out, stuck in a partial shift, his jaw lengthening, ears elongating, arms longer than their typical gorilla length, a tail starting to grow out of the back of his split pants, fur sprouting up along his body, his clothes splitting at the seams as he hulked out, aka the werewolf form, I was left sitting there staring after them.

  “What the fuck just happened?!” I blustered, flabbergasted.

  Chapter Five

  “Your momma said you might be out here. She said you seemed kinda... moody.”

  Gee, I wonder why?

  “Fancy seein’ you here.” Pausing long enough on the swing to glance up at him, I barely spared him a glance before I got back to it.

  “I’m surprised this thing’s still standing.” Tapping one of the poles holding the swing up with the toe of his sneaker, he stuffed his hands into his jean pockets. Rocking back on his heels, biting at the inside of his cheek, he waited, as if he was giving me time to say something, anything. I couldn’t say I felt much like talking.

  “Where’s your brother?” I felt the need to ask. Truth be told, I’d almost been hoping it was the older sibling searching me out. There was a bit of a game of cat and mouse going on between us, the pack third and I, and deep down, much as I acted affronted or annoyed on the outside, I was quite enjoying myself and our newfound, whatever this was. After so long wondering if I was some town freak being passed over, all the sudden attention from Ansel, a male almost equally as dominant as me, was nice for a change. Ansel turned me on my damned head. I didn’t know up from down with him. I suppose I’d always felt that way with the brute, all topsy turvy, it’d just never translated in such a way, like this—mutual attraction.

  My belly dipped and I resisted the urge to run my fingers over my lips, just thinking about that night in the garden, our first kiss, his lips on mine in the book store... I couldn’t say a man had ever kissed me like that, whole heartedly, hungrily, like he wanted to consume me, heart and soul. It was almost violent. My skin prickled just thinking about it and I shivered.

  Fynn grimaced as he watched the emotions playing across my face. “An was pretty fucking steamed. Chased me for miles in all three forms. He broke both of my legs. Do I at least get some kind of credit for that? Took me almost a week before I could walk.”

  That still didn’t explain where brother dear had disappeared to. “He shoulda snapped those twig arms of yours while he was at it,” I muttered, but there was no real heat behind my words.

  “My legs are still sore.” Moving closer, he wiggled his bum, motioning for me to scoot down the bench swing to make room for him. I did, if somewhat grudgingly.

  “You were supposed to be my friend,” I said into the silence that followed.

  “I was- am. Em, I chose you. I may not have told you everything, and in some things I had no right to keep them from you, as much right as I didn’t have to tell, but I’ve always chosen you first.” At a long look from me, my eyes narrowing as I watched him shrewdly, he shrugged. “It’s true.” Leaning back along the bench seat, he rested his arm along the back. His long, tapered fingers brushed the hood of my jacket and he fiddled with the faux fur lining it. “Choose you over Asshole, and you know it.”

  Shaking my head, I barked out a laugh. It still felt dry and hollow to me, though.

  Sighing noisily, Fynn removed his arm and sat forward. “Look, you needed me, and I helped you out, yes? No questions asked, you needed a heat buddy, and I rose, bah dum tss, to the occasion, several times, yes?”

  “Fynn... that’s not even remotely funny.”

  “Boner jokes are funny, Em. Poor timing, yes. But, I gotta say it, Ansel’s aged you, woman.” Fynn tsked, shaking his head at
me.

  Reaching out, I tapped the side of his cheek playfully. “Shut up.”

  Grabbing my hand, Fynn blew a loud raspberry into the palm of it. “Knew you loved me.”

  I mushed my hand into his face until I smeared his raspberry spittle along his laughing mug. “You’re a dick.”

  “I am. And when you needed one, even knowing what was going on with Ansel, knowing the problems it would cause, I knew you needed me then more than I cared about the repercussions. I was held against my will from telling you anything. You needed me. I made a decision. Was it the right one? Now, I dunno. But I made one, and I can’t take it back.”

  “My parents heard about the scene at the café,” I murmured, staring off at the moon. It was high in the sky, almost full, a big round ball of cheese lighting up the night. “Dad pointed out to Mom you could have brought your case to Eldritch and he could have let you out of your promise. Or, as your brother had mentioned, told Ansel.”

  “And put it in the pack’s hands? Take the choice away from you? You’d have been given to Ansel, like a puppy or a toy, with no real choice for you. Hey, man, I know they try to act all progressive and shit, but we all know this shifting shit is still ass backwards as fuck.”

  He had a point. Hunching in my seat, I grunted. “Don’t make me not... not like you. I’m still enjoying being mad.” It fueled my ire, where a part of it was annoyed at Ansel’s disappearing act. Where the fuck was he? My brow beetled as my heart sank.

  “Eldritch thought Asshole needed a wee timeout. You know, after he tried to gouge my eyes out.”

  Blinking, I glanced up at Fynn, who was fingering pale lines along the sides of his eyes I hadn’t noticed before.

  “I think it was the whole, you looked at what was mine, you don’t deserve them eyeballs, dude. Ansel-darling, as you can clearly see, was a mite put out I’d scored on his girl, several times. I thought he was honest to god going to try and unman me.” Fynn grimaced at the idea. “The eyeball thing, I wasn’t expecting. Broken legs?” He nodded. “Yes. I’d expected as much, maybe worse. But legs, bones, those can heal. The eyeball thing...” Fynn shuddered. “Wolves don’t regenerate eyes, shifter healin’ or not, Em.”

  “He’s in the hole.” A chill ran up my spine. It wasn’t too often it happened, but there were times it was called for. We were half wild beast, after all. Shit could get wonky. Thinking of what it must have been like for Ansel, if this whole knowing I was his mate for however long, was true, to find out Fynn had gone and done what we’d done, Fynn aware of Ansel’s predicament, I shuddered to think just how wild Ansel’s wolf would have gone.

  Wolf shifters were notoriously possessive. We didn’t do well separated from our mates for long. It was bad for fully mated pairs. I had no idea what it would be like knowing your mate wasn’t ready, and then just... dropping her to let her, what? Mature? Grow the fuck up? Wait to actually want to settle down? Unease slid through me. I’d had absolutely no inclination to settle down until this past year or two, until the shit really hit the fan with the heat meds reaction and that thing with Fynn, the sanctuary closing... Would Ansel have honestly waited for me that long, had that shit not woken me up? What if we were old and grey by then? If I hadn’t had a reality check... No. what am I saying? It wasn’t like he was fucking lonely. A stab of white hot pain jabbed at my gut thinking about the string of lovers he’d had.

  “He’s doing better today.” Fynn hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “He only threatened to murder me, and meant it, once this time.”

  Blinking, I looked at Fynn. “I’m happy for you?”

  Fynn grinned, cheeky as hell. “Thanks, best friend.” When I didn’t answer, his head tilted and he made a soft, animalistic noise in his throat. “We are still best friends, aren’t we, Em?”

  My gaze dropped to my booted feet, my chin dipping. I took a long time in answering. “Don’t see anyone else lining up for the job, do you?” Daring a peek at him, I found him staring up at the moon, contemplative.

  “I suppose things’ll change now,” he murmured, “not that I want them to, but it just is the way it is. What with you and Ansel and the fact he’ll be nervous whenever I’m around you now.” The serene look on Fynn’s face fell and he closed his eyes. He took several deep breaths, inhaling the cool night air. “He hates me right now. He’ll never trust me again.”

  “He loves you,” I said into the silence that followed.

  “Oh, dear, sweet Em, but he definitely loves you more.”

  “That’s not true,” I burst out, “he-”

  At one sharp look from Fynn that warned me not to even go there, I shut up. “Em... Ansel’s been shoving his feelings back, and putting off going after what he wants most, for years. Can you imagine? He knew it was you all along, knew you wouldn’t just go along with it willingly like it was fate and that’s the way it should be- hell, look at how freaked the fuck out you were at the book store? Do you know what any other shewolf would have done? Particularly, let’s say, a more eager, less dominant one? Jumped into the dude’s arms and never let go. He’s third only to the Alpha. Let that sink in. And you looked like someone had just told you Gomer Gunderson was your one.”

  “I did not,” I grumbled defensively. “And you try having that shit foisted on you out of the blue.”

  “Eldritch was right. You would have fought it tooth and nail if the choice had been taken from you. I can’t say I’m not glad Ansel let you be your own person, find yourself in the right time, and then him.”

  “Are you implying it took me this long to find myself?” I blurted, shocked he’d be so bold as to just toss that shit at me. How. Rude.

  “Tell me it’s not true?” he challenged. “You’ve always played it close to your breast, Em. Too cautious, too careful. You picked things and places and people who are comfortable, familiar—boring, perhaps—but known. Not once have you tried to venture out of that shell. Until,” his hand shot up and he pointed, “your heat meds stopped working.”

  “I’ve never been without myself,” I snapped.

  “Your first heat with me, we went to that little bed and breakfast two towns over. You met me there. It was also your first road trip out of our little town on your own. Your first, Em. You’ll be pushing thirty in a few years from now.”

  “A few years,” I spluttered. “I’m twenty eight god damned years old!”

  “Can you imagine what it must’ve been like, waiting for your mate to grow the fuck up, wake up, and then she’s almost thirty when you can finally have a chance at her? No wonder Ansel is always such an asshole. His dick’s probably turned to stone!”

  “Fuck off. And he’s had plenty of female companionship throughout the years, I’ll remind you.”

  Fynn opened his mouth but then promptly snapped it shut. At a funny look from me, he just widened his eyes and glanced away. Ignoring that weird reaction, I pressed on to other matters.

  “Like, everyone knows now. Everyone. It’s weird.” When Fynn said nothing, I sighed. “The one’s that didn’t already know and are no longer sworn to secrecy.”

  “Eh. Something else’ll come along soon enough to divert their attention. This too shall pass. Now, let me be your Gandalf and guide you, young Frodo, for I drink coffee and I know shit.”

  “I’m taller than you,” I laughed, “older, for starters. And that sugared up swill you drink, the frou-frou whatever, it ain’t coffee.”

  “Oh, it’s coffee,” he insisted. “Caffeinated nirvana, my friend.” Fynn made a happy, rumbling sound and licked his lips.

  “You disgust me,” I mock huffed.

  Fynn snorted out a laugh. The tension between us slowly eased. “It’s this weekend,” he announced out of the blue.

  “I’m aware,” I said with some amusement.

  “Tube-a-palooza.”

  Like I needed reminding. “The folks won’t let me skip. I think they’re secretly hoping I’ll find a backup man or something, should Ansel lose his marbles completely and have to b
e put down. Honestly can’t say. You know how those two are, quiet plotters.”

  “No worse than mine.”

  “True, but yours don’t try to hide it.”

  “We’re going.”

  “You mean you’re going. I’ll probably be hiding out in the parking lot in the bed of someone’s truck reading.”

  “No... I mean, we’re going. Actively participating in, dun-dun-dun, the great drift.”

  I grimaced at the mention of the big ol’ river floating event. I loved the idea of it and had wanted to go, and loathed the idea of floating along with a bunch of assholes down the river, in equal measure. “I don’t see how you think that.” It was the big movie event after all that I was truly interested in.

  “My mom called your mom. This isn’t an optional thing, Em. They’ve decided we’re all going. We’re all going. They have spoken.”

  “We’re adults. Like, big adults. Been adulting for going on years now.”

  “Sure. But the moms said we’re going. The moms have decided. You wanna argue with my momma? I don’t.”

  I couldn’t say I did either, with either momma. “It’s criminal, how easily we’re giving in to this kind of peer pressure,” I mused.

  “Should be illegal,” he murmured in agreement. “You have a new suit or just gonna wear the old black one? I need something other than my old board shorts. Chafe my legs.”

  “I wondered why Mom wanted my measurements last week. I thought it was to online shop for a dress to my cousin’s wedding this winter. You know how I am about dress shopping.”

  Fynn made a face and nodded. “You’re horrible. It’s true.”

  “Feels kinda like we’re being punished,” I mumbled under my breath. “I mean, is it really necessary for us to go?”

  “Not quite a felony,” he said with a smirk. “More like long term probation.”

  “Mm.” I made a noise in my throat but my foot kept up its pace

  “My mom’s been giving me looks.” Fynn grimaced and did his best impression of his mother, Judith’s, mom face. “You know, the face. She knows.”