Page 43 of Whisper Woods

Seff

Dad wasn’t exactly happywhen I let him know I wasn’t coming in to work tomorrow. He was even less happy when I argued I am meant to be running my own jobs and therefore my own hours, and I wasn’t impressed that he’s been changing that up scheduling me in with him. It’s been happening far too often lately.

He gave me a whole bunch of excuses about being short staffed and other things before he came clean that he’s doing it on purpose. To help give me “direction” apparently. To help me “step up” and “take on my proper duties as his son.” The “as an alpha” was the silent part of the conversation. Because despite Dad trying, really, genuinely trying, he still has the same ingrained biases he was born with.

Benny, his best friend and the second in charge in Dad’s crew, nodded along with everything Dad said. He even threw in a few key points himself. Like I'm drifting—specifically away from the pack.

I hadn’t been able to argue because all I could think was, “Is that such a bad thing?” But of course, for them, it is. It’s like, the very worst thing they can imagine.

Our current job’s an easy one, a residential renovation my dad should be able to do in his sleep, but delays in deliveries have us running behind. We didn’t finish up till late last night, but I’d been determined to get out on time today. I rode the guyshard—which, strangely enough, seemed to build a bit of a bridge between me and Dad before I blew it up—and we managed to even clock outearly.

My apartment over a hair salon isn’t exactly my dream home. But the littletwo-bedroom place is convenient for getting to work. Kicking off my boots, I throw my keys in the little bowl Mum made me get for my shit and chuck my phone on the charger. The screen is filled with notifications, but none from Rafe.

Still.

It hurts, really fucking hurts. Worse than all the times we’ve had to walk away from each other. Maybe I fucked up by not saying goodbye. I just… couldn’t. And maybe this is what I deserve for being chicken shit.

My fingers trail the centaur blanket draped over the back of my couch, as I make my way past the living area. Its rich earthy colours don’t really match the “I bought this matching furniture set from a cheap furniture chain” aesthetic of my apartment, but I don’t care. It’s a reminder. A reminder that there is more out there in this world.

For the four years I’ve lived here I’ve been meaning to upgrade and do something with the place, but work’s filled in every second. And if I’m not working or hanging out with the pack, I’m usually at the Black Stump, so I’ve just never gotten around to it.

I’m pretty gross from some demolition work this morning, so I strip in the laundry and make my way to the kitchen to get a drink before jumping in the shower. I try to keep myself together while I get cleaned up but without the distraction of work, Rafe’s silence is a heavy weight around my neck. It gets so loud in my head I even give Nana B a call on my way to the Black Stump, letting her fill me in on all the gossip of who's sleeping or fighting—or both—with who in her care home. Those beings getwildin their old age.

I’m almost calm by the time my reception gets all wonky and I need to let her go. Wolf, on the other hand, is nothing even resembling calm. Or chill.

The closer we get to the Black Stump, the worse his pathetic, excited whimpers get. He doesn’t give a single shit that Rafe has ghosted us. By the time the place comes into view my ass is practically twitching in my seat with the force of his tail wags in our shared consciousness. The very worst part is that it’s kind of infectious. He’s amping me up until I’m a chaotic jumble of feelings.

My tires skid a little on the gravel of the car park as I pull into the first availablefree spot. I’m not even sure that the car is locked properly, pressing the button while shoving the keys into the back pocket of my shorts while jogging up to the patio.

With all the excitement recently, the Black Stump is buzzing with activity once again. I nod to the beings I know on the patio, but wave off their calls to join them. I’m too keyed up to stop and chat. Wolf yips excitedly as I rush through the doors of the tavern, that sweet, smokey smell sending us both slightly insane.

And there he is. Fuck.

My gut bottoms out with relief at the sight of him, leaning against the bar, the warm overhead lights making the dark tan of his skin glow. He’s deep in conversation with the being seated next to him, but through the crowd I can’t see who it’s with. When he throws his head back and laughs that knot of tension that had loosened inside me tightens again, stealing my breath.

Feeling slightly sick—and more than a little stupid—I watch as he leans in close to the other being, his body angled in towards them. He smiles at the other being, warm, friendly, inviting,interestedand I want to vomit.

I’ve been so caught up in my own feelings, I never considered that maybe… maybe he hadn’t messaged because he’d been busy with someone else.

Well shit.

Expelling a harsh breath, I lift my cap and run my hands through my hair, flipping the bill forward and tugging it low over my brow. Jamming my hands into my pockets, jaw clenching in irritation and embarrassment, I start to turn around. Some of my friends from the pack are outside, maybe I could just have a drink with them and go home?

If I hadn’t looked back one last time, I would have missed it. The subtle way Rafe’s eyes cut to me. The shift in his body. The way his hand flexes around his glass.

He looks almost angry? With me? What the fuck is that about? He’s the one that had my number and didn’t call.And you’re the dumbass who left him without saying goodbye after he took care of us the other night,Wolf points out, done with all the pesky, complex emotions. They aren’t his thing.

Debate rages in me for a moment. Do I stay or do I go? Do I bail or do I goand claim what’s mine?

The seconds tick by and Rafe looks at me again, the subtle tick in his jaw visible to my predator instincts. His nostrils flare and he shifts his weight on his feet.

Impatient. He’s impatient.

Interesting.

Fuck it, what’s the worst that can happen? I decide. Wrapping myself in my mask of confidence, I inject a little swagger into my step, sauntering over to the bar.

I can barely hide my surprise when I see it’s Finn at the bar with Rafe. The shy little blonde looks almost overwhelmed with Rafe’s attention, tucked on his stool, sipping at his cocktail with an infatuated look on his face.

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