Page 11 of Whisper Woods

“He’s good. He’s uh, sleeping in. He was tired.” I snap out of my internal musings with Roan’s reply, just in time to catch the hint of colour under his beard.

“Yeah, I bet he was tired.” I chuckle a little laugh and give Roan a wink. He only rolls his eyes at me, watching closely as I pick up a strip of bacon and shove it into my mouth.

The same restless energy that seems to be a part of me as much as Wolf is, sets my leg bouncing under the table. Without even noticing, I’ve shredded my napkin at some point, so I shove the torn up pieces into a pile away from my plate.

“You going to Caelan and Tor’s tonight?” Roan asks.

I don’t like how closely he’s watching me. For all the times I’ve wanted someone to see past, well, everything, the idea is mostly terrifying. I don’t think I’m ready for that without a little more caffeine to bolster my reserves. So I strengthen the mask, rolling my shoulders to get rid of any tension, I lift my trusty navy ball cap to run my fingers through my hair before settling it back down.

“Yeah, wouldn’t miss it.” I keep my grin wide as I pop another piece of bacon in my mouth, chewing it carefully.

“Hmm,” Roan’s eyes inspect me while he hums. “Right, well, we’ll see you there.” And with another knock on the table he’s off to serve other guests down for breakfast. A quick check of the time shows I’m running super late if I want to get a shower in before the pack thing, so I shovel down my breakfast, and with a quick wave to Roan, and the bartender Woodsy who’s just showing up for his shift, I book it for town.

***

Fuck a duck, I amlate. My parents' street is lined with so many cars there is absolutely no chance I am getting a spot close to the house. Idling in the middle of the street, I slump forward, resting my head on the steering wheel. My headache faded while I was in the Woods, but it’s back again, like a pickaxe to my temple.

A sharp honk of a horn echoes through the street, and from the rear-view mirror I can see my parents’ neighbour glaring at me from his driver's seat. I have no idea what his name is, but from the way he is glaring at all the cars he is probably one of the ones that is always complaining that it’s a residential street and not a drop-in centre.

Still, I give him a wave and ease my foot back on the accelerator, cruising around the block until I manage to find a car park. From the looks of things, it’s not just the pack, it’s the guys from work too. The regular barbecues are something Dad started when he became pack leader. He thought it would help bring the pack together after all the shit that went down after Colin died.

Things were really tough in the pack before that. Colin was, well, an asshole. One of those guys that talked a big game about “purity of the blood” and being an “alpha” but really he was just a sad, insecure, hate-filled man too dumb to understand anything outside of his own way of doing things. Anything new or different terrified the shit out of him because it was a risk to the house of cards he built his power on.

We… did not get along.

In fact, hereallyhated me. Especially because I was a contradiction that proved all his insane theories wrong. Under his power structure—the type of thinking that died out in the Great War—I’d be considered an “alpha.” Since puberty, when my body caught up to itself—I’ve been one of the biggest and strongest in the pack.

But I’m also gay, which goes against the “purity of the blood” thing and breeding. Or something. I honestly never understood it, because the rules make no sense. Either way, even the pack was getting frustrated with the archaic way he was running things.

But you can’t go against your pack leader, and so everyone had just carried on. Things have gotten better, like a lot better, since Dad ascended. But even if the beat has changed, it still feels like the same old dance.

This isn’t the house Bree and I grew up in. It’s at least twice as big as the little three-bedroom place we had growing up, but my folks bought it after Dad took over the pack and they needed a bigger place to host everyone. I can hear the chaos already in full swing as I walk up the front path.

A handful of kids barrel past me to the fenced front yard the moment I open the door, followed by a harried dad-type person scrambling after them with a ball. He manages to catch the littlest one before they fall into Mum's beloved lavender bushes, but only just. I watch for a second as he organises the kids into a game of kickball.

“Hey, Seff! You gonna come join us?”

More of the dads from the pack make their way out the front, to join Dad Number 1, otherwise known as Ricky, in tiring out the kids. They slap my shoulder as they pass, up-nodding in greeting. The kids are already squealing with laughter on the grass. And as much as I like kids—and would usually be out there with them—Mum will kill me if I don’t do the rounds before I get caught up throwing the ball with the pups. I always end up getting too caught up playing with them and forget to do all the boring adult things too.

“Definitely later, I gotta go say hi to everybody.”

More than one of the dads looks disappointed, more than ready for me to swoop in and relieve them for a bit.

The lounge just off the entry has a couple of new mums trying to get their kids to sleep. One is pack, the other is the wife of a guy from work. They both glare daggers at me as I enter until I hold my hands up in treaty, putting a finger to my lips to let them know I understand.

The noise and the number of bodies increases the further I get into the house. A group of teens battle over a game controller in the second lounge. A suspicious group of not quite teens under the dining table in the formal dining area. Aneven more suspicious older teen couple come downstairs looking more rumpled and flushed than either of their parents would appreciate.

Everyone else is in the back of the house, where the freshly renovated combined kitchen, dining, and living rooms overlook the spacious backyard and patio.

It’s easy to see why the little kids went out the front. It looks like there is a Pack vs Work Crew game of ball going on and from the body slams going on they aren’t being gentle.

Those not playing are all under the veranda together, their loud laughter rumbling through the kitchen with the smell of Dad’s barbecue. Mum is holding court at her beloved kitchen island with a gaggle of her friends and my aunts crowded around with her. I can see several half-filled pitchers of cocktails spread between the trays of food.

I bypass them all to go to the living area, where several of the senior pack members are gathered. Including Nanna Berry. She’s my favourite. I learnt a couple of years ago not to startle her, so I make sure I’m in plain sight before I boom out, “Nanna!” and swoop down to envelope her into a big hug.

“Oh Seff, my darling boy.” Her frail hands clutch at my shoulders. “It’s about time you got here.” Her white hair has been pinned back by someone, and I take a moment to inhale her talcum powder and perfume scent.

I don’t know what the perfume is, but she has always drowned herself in it. I’m not sure if she wears it anymore or if it’s just part of her DNA. But the smell of it always loosens something inside of me.

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