Page 47 of Wolf Reborn

“Pack alliance business, trades of goods and members, peace talks between feuding clans,” Sawyer ticked off on his fingers. “Not many reasons, really.”

Miles motioned around the kitchen. “So basically, in a way Gavin—the whole Kismet pack—has engaged in unity in a way werewolves don’t usually.”

Everyone stopped and considered that. At least, Miles hoped that was what they were doing. He could understand wanting unity, but he hated the idea of putting the responsibility for that, on a worldwide level, on Gavin.

Gavin could lead—he was an amazing fucking leader. But he couldn’t force werewolves everywhere to unite if they didn’t want to. That was on them.

“Something to think about,” Graham finally conceded before turning back to his dough.

Sawyer patted Miles on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. I think most of us think it’s bullshit anyway. We don’t expect Gavin to save us from ourselves.”

Miles nodded to Sawyer, pulling himself out of his chair, downing the last of the tea in his cup, and heading for the door. He had a shift at the station, his first since the omega discovery, and he saw no reason not to simply go on with his life.

So he was a different kind of werewolf than the regular kind. Caramel instead of chocolate or vanilla, tea instead of coffee or more coffee. It was no more stressful than being a werewolf at all, and so far, being a werewolf had been much less stressful than the movies had made it seem.

As for Gavin being some kind of werewolf messiah, it seemed like a lot to ask of someone, but that didn’t matter. Miles was there to take care of Gavin now, and he wouldn’t let this prophesy nonsense hurt him.

If it happened that Gavin helped make the wolves see they were better off working together, then fine.

If not, and prophesies were just as fictional as he thought they were, that was fine too. Less pressure on Gavin, for sure.

Miles had a feeling this was what Gavin was so stressed about all the time. Telling a man he was supposed to fix all the problems of a whole race was a ridiculous weight, beyond being unlikely. And of course, Gavin being Gavin, he’d have internalized it and decided that even if he didn’t believe in prophecies, he should take responsibility.

They would be fine, though. No matter what, the Kismet pack could handle what came. They would all support each other; that was how they worked, and Miles was beyond grateful for it.

* * *

The office didn’t feelany different than before. He wasn’t sure why he’d expected it to, but every time he convinced himself he wasn’t affected by the whole drama of werewolfhood, he found himself surprised when something wasn’t dramatic.

He filled out and filed reports and did all the boring things no one thought of cops doing. They all pictured high-speed chases, which never happened in Kismet, or shootings, which rarely happened. They didn’t think about the fact that just a simple case of shoplifting required half a dozen forms, complete with all the redundant information about the victim and perpetrator on each one.

There were still a few hours left on his shift when he glanced up to see a woman approach the front desk. There was something familiar about her, but that wasn’t unusual in a small town like theirs. He’d have gone back to his work and forgotten all about her if the desk itself hadn’t been empty.

James must have run to the bathroom just in time to have someone walk in.

Miles yawned and stretched as he stood, then headed up to open the dividing door and slip out behind the counter. “Can I help you, Miss...?”

“Lloyd,” she told him. “Gwen Lloyd. It’s not... that is, I’m not sure exactly who I should see, but I think someone might be squatting in my family’s cabin.”

Miles blinked and stared at her silently for a second before shaking himself into motion. Lloyd. He glanced back up at her leafy-green eyes and golden-brown hair, and swallowed hard. He couldn’t say anything about Gavin. Miles knew damn well Gavin wasn’t in contact with his family, so no matter how much he suspected she was related, he couldn’t say anything to her.

Ethically, he couldn’t say anything to Gavin either, could he? Well, no. He could mention having seen her, but not why or where. He’d have to do that the minute he got home. Before that, if he had a moment to grab his cellphone from the locked bottom drawer of his desk.

Squatters, like shootings, were uncommon, but not unheard of in Kismet. Especially in the more expensive cabins that lay empty for most of the year, it was a temptation for some people.

Frankly, Miles had a hard time blaming them. The empty cabins were a waste of living space, and Miles hadn’t ever been homeless, so he couldn’t imagine how it felt.

Instead of saying anything about that, he offered her a smile and waved to the door into the bullpen. “If you’d like to come with me, Miss Lloyd, we can get the paperwork filled out, and we’ll send a patrol car to check on the house.”

24

Hey, Jude

Gavin kind of liked doing dishes for the shop. It was a task no one else enjoyed, so he liked being able to take it off all their plates, but also, it was nice and quiet. He got to spend lots of time thinking while doing it.

He didn’t always put that time to its best use—like when he spent it thinking about the previous few days with Miles, and more sex than he’d had in the previous two years.

Hell, five years.

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