Page 15 of Wanted by the Wolves (The Last Shifters #2)

Chapter 14

Briggs

T he coffee mug I’ve been avoiding since I came into the kitchen mocks me from the counter while I clean the breakfast dishes. As magic zips along the mug’s looping script, it seems to glow. It’s almost like a spark racing along the words “stubborn goat.”

No doubt Gage had himself a laugh when he left the healing potion out in my newly personalized mug. Of course, he didn’t stay around long enough to see my reaction. He’s out of the house before any of us wake. If it weren’t for the fact that he keeps making meals, I would swear he’d fled.

I debate pouring the potion down the drain, but I’m afraid that would prove his point. Besides, my body aches enough to make it worth it. With a resigned grimace, I down the black tar and toss the mug into the dishwater.

Dex lumbers in, sipping the last of his coffee, coat already on. He scowls, his expression tight. “I said leave them. Go rest with our little wolf.”

“I can do the damn dishes,” I snap.

Both the other alphas in this house are on my shit list. My brother spent breakfast arguing with me again about letting me help him finish setting the traps.

Okay, arguing may be a stretch.

Dex simply grunted and growled the word no .

Since when do I need his damn permission?

“Why am I the only one with a magical shit-talking cup?” I ask petulantly.

Dex eyes me dubiously. “That seems obvious.”

I flick him with water. “Exactly. If I’m stubborn, so are you.”

My brother rolls his eyes.

“Better watch yourself. You may be the bigger brother, but I can take you.” I hurl the threat at him, mostly joking. If I’m stuck under house arrest, at least I can give him shit.

“When was the last time you laid me on my ass? Did you have chin hair yet?” Dex goads.

My mouth gapes. “Spring. Last year. After that feral got loose in Hidden Meadows when the trap failed. I seem to recall tackling you to the ground before that feral ripped into your back. Saved your life by kicking your ass.”

Amusement floods the littermate bond, along with a burst of appreciation. “Sounds like I should return the favor.” Dex lifts his brow in challenge.

“No need,” I grumble. I don’t actually wanna get my ass beat today. I’m just frustrated and cranky. “I’m staying here, but I hate feeling useless. The traps need to be set, and it isn’t a one-wolf job.”

That’s partially true, though Dex can manage on his own just fine. But I don’t know if I can go another day watching our little wolf retreat into herself. It seemed as though we were making progress with her, but ever since she saw the ferals at the border two days ago, she’s been scared shitless. She’s buried so deep in her wolf I don’t know what to do.

I hate that I can’t fix it. It makes me feel like the worst kind of alpha as I helplessly watch her drift away.

Dex sighs. “I get it. I still think you need the rest, but that's not why you need to stay. She needs you here.” I go to interrupt, but he growls, his voice low. “She doesn’t need my big ass looming. Not Gage and his thunderclouds. She needs you.”

“Right, I’m clearly the man for the job,” I mutter. I’ve been with her in the nest for the last two days, but I might as well not even be there. She ignores me completely, huddled under her mound of blankets.

At least laying traps is productive. It’s a real, solid way to keep her safe.

Dex’s expression softens, the alpha receding from his voice. “Let me finish building the traps while you coax our omega out. If Gage has to do it with magic, it’s gonna hurt.”

My stomach drops. Dex’s faith in me is misplaced. I’ve gotten nowhere with her, and why would I? I’m the laugh-it-off brother, the master of acquaintances and moon partners but never anything serious. My philosophy has always been to live in the moment. That’s all we’ve got. This world gives no guarantees. With her though, I want more. I just don’t know how to get it.

What Dex is asking of me? I don’t know how to do that. Our little wolf needs an alpha to guide her out of her fur. She has to trust him for that to happen. Dex is who she’s been clinging to. He can bring her back. I know it.

“It isn’t that I don’t want to help her,” I admit. “I think I’d do anything for her. But I’m not the wolf she needs. She responds best to your alpha.”

Dex gives me a look as though I’m talking out of my ass before understanding dawns across his grumpy face.

Sometimes, littermate bonds are annoying. I know he’s feeling my jealousy and doubt even though I wish I could hide it.

“What if I can’t do anything more than be the good-time guy?” I ask quietly, busying myself with putting away the last of the dishes.

I can protect her, show her pleasure, but I don’t know how to make a real connection. Not the kind that’s strong enough to ground her and make her feel emotionally safe enough to come back into her human skin.

Dex leans against the counter, his penetrating stare making me nervous. “She’s our mate. You know it whether you want to say it or not. And she needs to be reminded what it’s like to be human. She does need you. And I do too. Charm her back, for both of us.”

Without another word, my brother pats my back gruffly and heads to the door.

Great. Charm her back. Sounds simple.

The little wolf is asleep as she has been since I came back into the nest after breakfast. It isn’t good. She’s sleeping too much. Yesterday, she barely moved at all, refusing to eat.

I need a plan to charm her back, except she’s gotta be awake for it.

“Come on, pretty girl. We need some fresh air,” I say, pulling back the blankets and picking up the delicate furball.

Outside, the afternoon air is crisp. The sky is a swirling mix of greys and blues, overcast and gloomy. The little wolf peeks her head out from under the crook in my arm before huddling back into it.

I set her down at the edge of the courtyard by the tree line, encouraging her to stretch her legs. She plops back down on her butt and looks up at me with vacant silver eyes. If the woman is in there, she’s buried deep, but even her wolf isn’t acting right. It’s as if she’s frozen or something.

“Go on. Sniff out the courtyard. You’re safe.”

The black wolf doesn’t move.

I rub the back of my neck, racking my brain for how to get through to her. My alpha is restless, annoyed that I’m fucking this all up. He pushes against the veil between us, seeking control. Without any other brilliant ideas, I strip and let him have my skin.

He trots over to her and licks her snout before rubbing his scent anywhere he can touch. She just sits there. My wolf bites her tail playfully, trying to tease her.

Still nothing.

He tries running around her in circles, nipping and barking in invitation.

Not a peep.

My wolf isn’t deterred. He brings her little objects from the courtyard and lays them at her feet. A pretty leaf. A shiny pebble. Each time, he bows and waits for an acknowledgment that doesn’t come before licking her snout and darting off again.

None of his gifts work.

He gets bolder, darting into the forest and returning with a hare.

She sits, vacant-eyed, still except for the tremble that runs up her spine every time the wind blows through the courtyard.

Damn. Wolf or man, I’m so bad at this. I force the shift, but my wolf doesn’t protest. Instead, he growls in my mind, a clear warning to fix this. I stuff myself back into clothes and scoop up the tiny omega wolf.

“I was trying to play, but that's not what you need, right?” I run my hands through her soft black fur, my purr rattling to life from my chest. “To tell you the truth, I’m not in the mood to play either.”

What was my wolf thinking? I sigh in exasperation, stomping the dirt off my boots at the door before bringing her into the living room. I set her down and build a fire, worried by the way her small form trembles even inside the warm cabin. The goal was to coax her out, but all I seem to have done is make her sit in the cold-ass yard all afternoon.

I strip off my coat and boots, leaving them by the front door, before racing to Gage’s bathroom and stealing his hairbrush. What the alpha doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, it’s a small payback for that mug.

Folding myself down onto the rug, I join her by the fire. I brush the fur along her back in long swipes until she’s soft and poofy. She’s stopped shaking, at least.

With both hands, I grab hold of her wolf’s face and look into her silver eyes. “Pretty wolf, help me help your human, okay? You’re my wolf’s mate, which means she’s mine, right? I need her just as much. My brother too. So, give her back her skin.”

The wolf stares at me.

She can’t understand me. Or if she can, she’s ignoring me. “Well fuck.”

I run my hands idly through her fur and watch the flames dance in the fire. Eventually, I can’t stand the silence, so I do what I do best—bullshit. I pretend I’m not carrying on a one-sided conversation.

“What’s my favorite place I’ve traveled?” I ask myself, then I answer myself like a total jackass. “Hmm. That’s a tough one. But once in the far Western Territory, Dex and I stayed in a treehouse that was cool as fuck. The elders put the pups in the trees during…”

I keep telling her stupid stories about Dex and me traveling, about the land and some of the places we’ve visited, asking myself questions that I pretend she prompts. I don’t mention the ferals or the dying villages, only the good times with silly pups and teasing elders. I exaggerate my commentary, playing up my brother’s scowling and my antics, making us both look ridiculous in the hopes that I can pull a laugh from the woman buried under the fur.

The little wolf purrs, and the room's scents finally mellow. I don’t know how long we sit there, but the light from the living room windows fades into a dusty twilight.

“What have you seen, little omega? I bet you have stories.”

Tired of hearing myself bullshit, I drag myself off the floor and head to the bookshelves that line the living room's back wall. My leg is hurting again, and I could use some backup. I’m exhausted, and I haven’t done shit but make it worse.

These bookshelves are mostly full of old-ass wolf histories, gardening books, and manuals. Still, I remember seeing some fiction titles in Gage’s bedroom. I head that way, out of ideas and about ready to throw in the towel. I can huddle with her under the blankets. We can mope together.

To my surprise, the little black wolf follows me. She nudges my leg, nipping at my jeans impatiently.

“You like books? You want me to read to you?” I ask, my heart racing at the way she finally looks alive.

She yips when I brush past a classic shifter tale about the first wolves and their battles with raiding forest trolls.

I get comfortable in her nest, and my little wolf follows. She circles a spot several times before she finds the right one, then she snuggles down, looking at me expectantly.

After the prologue, she looks just as interested, with the smallest spark back in her eye.

“You want me to keep going?”

She snaps her jaws in what I think is an enthusiastic “duh.”

I chuckle at the reminder of her sass. There she is. Let’s see if I can push my luck.

“Then you eat, I’ll read. That’s the deal.”

The little wolf huffs but gets up, trotting toward the kitchen.

Not wanting to miss the opportunity, I race behind her. It doesn’t take long to put together leftovers from breakfast. I set them down next to a big bowl of water and hop on the counter.

I clear my throat and open the book. “Chapter One: The Invasion of the Trolls.”