Page 58 of Reclaiming Home

“You’re gorgeous,” I told Brodie, running my hands over his massive form.

I’d known werewolves were large, but the fact that I didn’t need to lean that far down to be able to press my forehead to his was a bit insane.

Whereas Brodie was almost black gray, Holden’s wolf form was light gray and he was a bit smaller. I didn’t know the genetics that went into such things, but they both were amazing in their own right.

“Okay, go do your thing. We’ll make some coffees and wander outside in a bit,” I told them.

Carys went to open the door for them and giggled at something one of them did while exiting.

I smiled as I made us the drinks and put them into travel mugs.

Soon, we had our shoes and jackets on and wandered around the house to the backyard where two large wolves were running around like puppies.

Carys let out a giggle, which made Brodie’s attention snap to us. Then he loped over and headbutted her gently. She scratched his forehead, then smoothed the hair down.

“Go play,” she told him.

And play they did. They looked like actual wolves, playing tag, dodging each other, throwing themselves and each other around as they wrestled and, well, frolicked, like she’d said earlier.

Carys and I sat down on the creaky back porch steps and hung out. It was peaceful. Liberating, in some ways.

Brodie’s phone in my pocket dinged, and I took it out to see a message from Rian.

“The boys are doing wolfy things at the rehab place. I went to see them earlier. How is our Alpha?”

I took some video of the wolves, then sent it to Rian. A couple of minutes later, he sent a bunch of thumbs up and laughing crying and heart emojis.

I showed it to Carys and she grinned. “He’s a lot of fun.”

It struck me that I hadn’t spoken with Rian yet. Carys had been texting him some when needed, so she had a familiarity with him I didn’t yet. We knew him through Brodie’s stories, of course, but it wasn’t the same. I hoped he and I would get along when we got to know each other.

By the time the moon was shining from between the trees and into the backyard, Brodie and Holden’s playing had reached a point of the growls being a bit less playful.

Then suddenly, Holden pounced and nipped at Brodie.

“Oops,” Carys whispered.

Even before she had the whole word out, Brodie had tossed Holden onto the ground where he immediately stilled and rolled over, submitting to the Alpha.

Brodie stood over him for a few seconds, a low growl rumbling out of him just loud enough for us to hear. Then he put his jaws around Holden’s throat and held him there in an oddly ceremonial manner for a few more seconds.

Then he pulled away and stepped back for Holden to stand up.

When the gray wolf got to his feet, there was a distinct sense of “I done fucked up” in his body language. Brodie wasn’t having it, though, and went to headbutt Holden’s shoulder.

Then he turned to us and loped over for pets.

“You’re such a ham when you’re like this,” I told him.

He huffed, then flopped down on the ground in front of the steps we were sitting on and put his head on top of my feet.

I scratched the top of his head and the thick ruff around his neck.

Holden walked closer and kind of snuck to sit next to Brodie. Carys giggled and gave him the same treatment I was giving Brodie.

They chilled with us for a few minutes, then Brodie glanced at the sky, then at the house, and then me.

“Yeah, I get it. You guys want to go run.” I grabbed his head and kissed his nose, to which he sneezed theatrically. “No kisses in wolf form, okay, good to know.”

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