Page 12 of Wanted by the Wolves (The Last Shifters #2)

Chapter 11

Nova

M y wolf has decided this is her new den. She’s full send on the omega nesting urges, without a care that this isn’t actually her place.

I should probably be mortified. Omegas are known for being audacious, but my wolf has taken it to new levels.

When she grabs the sweater folded over the back of a leather chair, I give her a mental push. It was bad enough that she stole the quilt from the bed and dragged it to the corner of the room. At least its scent was predominately Dex’s.

After so long of having to watch my every move, it makes sense why my wolf has latched on to him. The big alpha is sweet and makes me feel safe.

But Gage’s sweater? Come on.

The healer called me homicidal. Even if he did save my life, he doesn’t seem particularly happy about it. His scent at breakfast was full of bitterness. I don’t even know him, certainly not enough to trust him.

Or the brothers either. Not even Dex, though it feels as though I can trust him implicitly.

Reason number five thousand why I should make an exit plan instead of building a den.

This isn’t the time to get a crush on my rescuer or make the mistake of being comfortable. Alphas are dangerous. Trusting the first one to be kind to me would be naive.

That doesn’t stop my wolf. She carries on as though she doesn’t feel me tugging for control. Gage’s sweater makes it into the corner, and she uses her snout to nudge it into the pile of bedding she’s already worked over with her paws.

Why does he have to smell so good though? His scent was off at breakfast, but this worn sweater smells like working in a garden with the sunshine on my face. It’s like catnip to my omega.

I give in to the alpha pheromone buzz, letting my wolf have at it until she’s amassed items from all over the room and built a comfy pile. At least, I think it’s pretty comfy. It smells delicious and is worn-in soft as if it was already made for me.

Over the years, I’ve lost the contents of my makeshift nests more times than I can count. My den back in the forest is sparse. I keep a sleeping bag, a kettle, and my backpack. Ferals don’t make it easy to hold on to a place for long. I’ve learned it’s better to keep it light.

The only real item I had of value was my grandmother’s tea recipe, which was more sentimental than anything. I memorized the recipe when I found a place to stop that first night in the woods. It’s a good thing too. The page was lost in year three of hiding. After that, I taught myself not to care, no matter how much it hurt not to have anything permanent.

Unlike me, my wolf isn’t satisfied with the nest. Something is missing. On a huff, she goes on the hunt. She doesn’t get far. Briggs is leaning against the doorjamb of the bedroom, watching her with a soft smile.

“Hey there, pretty girl. I like your nest.” Briggs’s voice isn’t as deep as his brother's. It’s more melodic, as though he’s always one breath away from laughter.

I thought earlier, when I met him, he was mischievous, but I think what I sensed was charm. My wolf is proof. She prances at his praise. There’s no other word for it. Mentally, I face-palm at her eagerness.

When she gets to him, she grabs his pants leg and tugs, giving a little playful growl.

“What do you need, little wolf?” There is something about his mouth. It’s as though he’s hiding a secret about me, something that amuses him. I don’t even know why it’s so alluring, but I’m practically drooling.

My wolf nudges her nose into his crotch.

Someone kill me now.

My inner omega rejoices at the scent, right up there with my wolf, who is currently nuzzling him.

Oh. My. Gods. This is so embarrassing.

Briggs lets loose a throaty laugh, but it doesn’t feel as though he’s laughing at me.The rich sound makes my wolf give a happy yip. She takes one last crotch sniff, then licks his fingers.

“That’s a very naughty way to say hello. I approve.” He takes a knee and holds out his palm.

My wolf leans into him, letting him caress her face.

He swallows roughly. “Do you just need my scent, or do you need me in the nest?”

She licks his nose in answer. That causes him to laugh again as he gives a long pass down the fur of her back. My belly pools with warmth at the sound.

How the heck am I ever supposed to focus on being levelheaded if I’m up close and personal with one of the sexiest specimens of an alpha I’ve ever seen?

There is no hope of not getting a crush.

He tugs his shirt over his head.

Yup, definitely a crush.

My wolf takes the offering between her teeth and carefully places it in the nest next to Dex’s pillow and Gage’s sweater. Satisfied that it’s finally right, she turns back to Briggs and nips for him to follow.

He crawls inside the mound of blankets and pilfered clothes, shifting around to try to get comfortable. When he finally settles, he lets out a heavy sigh. I catch the sharp, burning pain in his scent, and my eyes zero in on his chest. His T-shirt was hiding the majority of his bites. I thought it was a lot before, but this is… There are no words.

My wolf whines, nudging her nose at one of the pale, glowing bites on his arm.

Briggs pulls his arm behind him, cradling his head in his palm. “After we left North Pass, we drove for a while, but to get here, we had to come in on foot. We made it. Barely.”

What he leaves out of the explanation is that my heat drew the wolves. It had to have. I was already perfuming and in the first waves of heat before everything in my memory went fuzzy. Getting me to safety cost him. With this many bites, it must have been bad.

I’ve been bitten twice by ferals. Both times, I thought I was going to die. I can’t imagine the kind of pain he went through.

Did Gage heal him too?

“Come snuggle, pretty wolf. I could use a nap.” He lifts his other arm.

My wolf leans in, licking his cheek once before snuggling into his side and licking his armpit.

The alpha lets out a soft chuckle. “Quit that.”

Briggs's hand finds her fur, stroking down her side. Back and forth, the alpha sets a slow rhythm. It feels nice, the way his solid warmth next to mine is grounding.

The overall coziness of the room adds to that homey feeling of the nest. Bookshelves loaded with haphazard piles are stuffed in every little nook, making the space feel closed in despite its size. Plants bloom in corners, sometimes growing up the walls or on the shelves. The space is messy and worn, and the wooden furniture is scraped. It’s lived in.

Even if my stay here is temporary, it’s peaceful.

A light, airy sound comes from my wolf.

Well, damn.

She’s purring.

The soft sound causes my brain to reboot. Wolves usually only purr for their mates. Maybe it’s because he’s injured and she knows he saved me? Whatever the reason, it freaks me the fuck out.

Briggs makes an appreciative sound in his throat. “Thank you, little omega.”

His eyes close. It only takes a few minutes for the alpha to fall asleep.

My wolf is content to watch over him in our new den, her purr steady while I try to make sense of the sound.

I decide to go with it. Crotch sniffing aside, my wolf’s instincts haven’t steered me wrong. Not when it counts. If it turns out that this place isn’t what it seems, then I’ll fight if I have to, but I’m tired of running.

If it’s just for a little while, I want to soak in the peace while it lasts. Maybe I can give some back to these alphas who risked so much to keep me safe.