Page 92 of The Wolves of Forest Grove

The sound of Layla’s laughter carried through the cabin like a song. I cringed against the bright light of day, trying to peel my heavy eyelids back from my still-burning eyes. I was on my back on the couch, a low fire in the hearth ten feet away warming my cheek.

Where was Jared?

I must’ve actually fallen asleep.

The sound came again, Layla’s melodic laughter, followed by Vivian’s throaty chuckle. Confused and wondering if I was in fact still asleep, I lifted my aching body from the soft cushions and stood on unsteady feet, dark spots dancing in my vision for a second until I got my footing.

My throat was scratchy dry, and my arm and shoulder felt stiff from being held still in the sling for god knows how long. I eyes the kitchen clock, lips parting when I saw that it was somehow already after two in the afternoon.

No fucking way.

I heard Clay’s deep timbre outside and followed it along with the mouthwatering smell of seared beef, baked goods, and the invigorating aroma of fresh coffee.

On the kitchen table rested a basket, sun-bleached wicker with a checkered cloth.

I didn’t have to look inside to find out what it contained.

I could smell the burnt butter and brown sugar smell of Hazel’s cookies from a mile away.

Clearly, I’d somehow also managed to sleep through a visit from Grams.

Damnit.

I really wanted to talk to her. Maybe there was a chance she hadn’t left yet.

My feet were still sleep drunk, and I nearly tripped out the screen door, catching myself on the railing of the front porch before I could go sprawling down the stairs and onto the dirt lawn.

“Whoa,” Jared’s voice rose above the others, and in an instant, he was there, hands steadying me with a firm grip on my elbows. “Looks like someone could use a coffee.”

Layla laughed, and I pushed myself back to standing and turned to find her, gaping at what I found.

Clay stood on the furthest edge of the porch deck in front of the barbeque, flipping steaks amid licks of flames. He turned and gave me a tired smirk, waving a pair of tongs.

Vivian sat next to Destiny on the floor of the wood deck, paper plates in both their laps. The only remnants of their steak breakfast a little puddle of red juices on each. Viv’s brown eyes were bright as she rested them on me. There was a flush in her cheeks.

Across from them, sitting cross-legged with a mug of coffee pressed between her palms, was Layla.

Her black hair shone in the afternoon light with strands of blue and something close to violet.

Her complexion was back to a less troubling shade of pale.

But what had me entirely baffled was the wide grin on her face.

She set down her coffee and got up, coming over to me.

I couldn’t breathe as she wrapped her arms around me, hugging me as tightly as she could without pressing too hard against the sling. Hot tears welled in my eyes.

She pulled away, staring at me curiously.

“What the fuck is going on?” I managed, my voice waterlogged as though there were a physical block in my throat.

I’m dreaming.

I must be dreaming. Why are they smiling?

What the fuck is there to smile about?

“Are you okay?” Layla asked, one perfectly manicured eyebrow raised. “How’s your arm?”

“...how’s my arm?”

“You’re right,” Layla said, turning to Jared behind me. “I think she does need a coffee.”

“Coming right up.”

Layla grabbed my hand and dragged me to where her coffee waited on the deck. Pulled me down to sit next to her.

“Morning,” Destiny said, and I glanced down to see her fingers knotted with Vivian’s.

Vivian’s usually steady gaze flitted to me and back down to her plate as Clay turned from the barbeque to drop another piping hot steak onto her plate. She held her plate out to me instead. “Here,” she said with a sheepish grin. “You look like you need it more than I do.”

I realized, a little belatedly, how all I had on right now was panties and Clay’s massive t-shirt.

It was a warm afternoon, so I hadn’t really noticed.

At least until Vivian’s gaze fell on my scrawny legs.

The bones of my knees looked strange in my new slimmer body.

Clay had been right. I was losing weight. And it definitely didn’t suit me.

I took the plate from Vivian, my gaze never leaving her. “Can...someone explain to me what I missed?”

Vivian cocked her head at me.

Were they really going to make me spell it out? “Yesterday, you both wanted to rip my head off.” I glanced between Layla and Viv. “Rightly so.” Viv pursed her lips.

“And now you’re...” How could I put this?

“Happy?” Layla offered and I was sure the shock in my expression was clear.

“Are you?” I asked her, hope and confusion beginning a whirlwind dance behind my breast.

Layla tipped her head this way and that. “Not unhappy.”

“But...why?”

I mean, I certainly wasn’t complaining. I just didn’t understand.

Jared came back out onto the deck and folded himself into a seat next to me, handing me a still- steaming mug of glorious coffee.

I took a sip, not caring that it seared my tongue and burned a path all the way down my throat.

I needed some fucking clarity, and if they weren’t going to give it to me, maybe coffee would.

“We talked,” Jared answered for Layla as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

I stared at him, pushing him with my gaze to fucking spit out the rest of the explanation.

His tousled dirty-blond hair fell into his eyes, and he reached up and pushed it back, strands of it catching the sunlight. “We did what we probably should’ve done for you when you first shifted.”

“Which is?”

“Explain shit,” Clay butt in.

Layla’s cool fingers wrapped around my hand, drawing my attention back to her.

“I’m not sick,” she said, her eyes welling and brand- new smile squirming at the corner of her mouth. “I don’t have Huntington’s. Not anymore.”

If my eyes went any wider, they’d bug out of my fucking head.

“It’s true,” Jared added. “The transition eradicates illness. Most of the time, people who are terminally ill won’t shift because of those illnesses. The toxin in our bite that triggers the change needs a healthy host. But...” he trailed off, shrugging. “That’s not always the case.”

“You’re really not sick?”

Layla nodded, struggling to keep her tears at bay. Her chin quivered, and she squeezed my hand tighter.

It was my turn to smile. A laugh bubbled up from within me as I shoved my coffee back at Jared, hot black liquid sloshing everywhere so I could hug my friend properly.

“They already had their first voluntary shifts, too,” Clay said as I pulled away from Layla after a minute spent shuddering in relief. “They did great.”

What? Now they were just making me look bad. I didn’t care though, I was grinning ear to ear. “So, does this mean...you don’t want to rip my head off anymore?”

Viv barked a laugh and rolled her eyes at me. “We never wanted to rip your head off, Allie. Our wolves did, but Destiny explained that that was probably only because we somehow recognized you as being stronger. A threat.”

“It’s natural for wolves without an alpha to feel the need to challenge any other wolves they feel threatened by,” Destiny confirmed. “Honestly, we should have expected it, but we’ve rarely had more than one wolf shifting in the chamber at a time before.”

No one mentioned the fact that my best friends felt immediately threatened by my presence, but seemed to ignore Ryland’s entirely.

I grimaced, staring down at my hands. It was no wonder he’d snapped at them.

He was probably enraged that they felt I was the bigger threat when the alpha who now had the largest pack in the western United States was practically standing right next to me.

It wasn’t as if that were my fault though. And honestly, what did he expect? For me to sit idly by while he snapped at them? I thought he was going to attack them. I’m still not convinced he wouldn’t have if I hadn’t been blinded with rage and stopped him.

I shuddered, not wanting to think about that part. Nothing like that had ever happened to me before. I got angry, sure. But never to a point where I entirely lost control. Where one second, I was standing there, chained to a wall and the next I had the taste of blood on my tongue.

It terrified me.

I bowed my head, wondering what would happen now.

They had both completed the transition. They were alive and unharmed and somehow, miraculously, didn’t want to see my head on a pike.

All good things. Very good things.

But they were still unclaimed wolves in Ryland’s territory.

Perhaps sensing where my thoughts had wandered, Clay said, “Ryland already sent Charity over earlier this morning.”

I snapped my head up, a vise around my heart.

“He gave us until the end of the weekend to decide if we want to join your pack,” Vivian said, a knot between her brows. After a pause, she added, “Could he really make us leave?”

Jared gave her a sympathetic look and answered before I could. “He can and he will. I’m sorry.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” Layla said with a shrug. “We already decided we’d join.”

“What?”

I was about to lose my shit about the fact that he only gave them two fucking days to decide, but now they were really going to tell me they had already decided? In the span of one morning?

Vivian glanced apologetically at Destiny and then lifted her heavy gaze to rest on me. “This is our home,” she said. “And I don’t want to ruffle any feathers here, but honestly? I think the guy is a power-tripping douche canoe.”

Destiny’s jaw clenched. Jared paled.

Nobody disagreed.

“Wait. I’m confused. So then why the hell would you want him as your alpha?”

Vivian looked at me like I was daft. “We saw what he did to you, Allie. He fucking broke your arm. Without flinching. We aren’t going to leave you here with him. Not a fucking chance.”