Page 31 of Pack Kasen: Part 1

When I come back to myself, I’m trembling so hard my teeth chatter, curled up in a fetal position beside a small puddle of sick, and I can’t feel my wolf.

Why can’t I feel my wolf?

10

AREN

Ifeel guilty.

Why the fuck amIthe one feeling guilty?

Ididn’t kill anyone.

I’mnot the feral.

So why is it that every time the feral looks at me do I feel likeI’mthe one doing something wrong?

I keep thinking about her, and I can’t stop.

I went in there with an icy cold bottle of water, specifically to tempt the feral to tell me why it has better control than any I’ve put in the cage.

Instead, I walk out feeling like I just had my ass handed to me with the grace of someone who doesn’t need to shout to make a point.

I throw my head back and howl.

When there’s nothing for it, I howl out my frustration. Like I always do.

It’s a mild spring day, so most of the pack is outside, enjoying the weather. They’ve spread themselves on the decking, are relaxing near the creek, and sitting on the grass near the trees that lead into the forest.

At my howl, they pause their conversations to glance warily at me.

It’s not usual for me to start howling for no reason.

“What?” I growl.

They look away, and yet again, I feel likeI’mthe one losing control. LikeI’mthe feral, not…her.

I frown at my slip up.

The feral is nother. The feral is anit.

No days are the same in Burning Wood.

I like the freedom of waking with the sun, of letting my mood and the weather dictate whether I take the pack for a run, or I go on my own. But today, I feel lost.

I’d expected to spend the next hour interrogating the feral, yet here I am, standing outside the house, with no clue what to do with myself.

“Is everything okay?” Finan asks.

I barely stop myself from leaping out of my skin because I forgot he was there.

I glare at him like he just cursed me out. “I’m busy. Don’t distract me with any more diplomacy things today.”

I feel him watch me as I stalk toward the stairs that lead to the house. My pack mates take one look into my face and scatter, which makes me feel like I’m the one who should be in the silver cage.

My lips flatten as I continue through the house, passing the den where Marisa is chatting and laughing with Silas as a TV show plays on the massive screen we hung on the wall.

Marisa calls out to me as I stalk past.

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