Page 25 of Wanted By the Wolves

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 wolfis 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.

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