Page 32 of Wolf Reborn

Miles grinned at Dez, then down at the baby, and finally up at her mother. Then his eyes sought out Gavin.

It took him a moment to find the man, who had retreated into the kitchen, sitting at the counter there, looking... not at Miles, or the crowd around him, or even what looked like the most decadent cinnamon rolls Miles had ever seen, covered with caramel and pecans, but his own hands.

Dammit. Becoming a wolf was supposed to fix this. The pack had grabbed Miles with both hands, some of them literally, and they were accepting him in. Unless Sawyer hanging off his neck was some new form of shunning.

So why was Gavin all the way across the room looking like someone had kicked him? It was back to the dance, apparently. Two steps forward, three steps back.

This time, Miles was going to make it impossible for Gavin. This time, he had the whole pack on his side. He’d end this damned frustrating dance.

16

True Colors

Miles took to being a werewolf like he’d been born to it. He held Paige until she was hungry, then handed her back to her mother without so much as a sniffle on her part. He put up with all the touching and scenting and invasion of his personal space in a way Gavin had never managed.

Not that he didn’t want to touch people, and not that the pack forced it on him. It had simply always been clear to Gavin that his pack would like to be touched quite a lot more than he was comfortable with.

His family had never been much for physical affection. He’d gotten a pat on the back from his father when he’d been named valedictorian of his graduating class at Yale. His mother had given him a nod of approval at his speech. His little sister clasped his hand and squeezed it, and it had been understood that she meant it with the utmost affection.

She probably would have hugged him if she’d known he would be gone from her life a week later.

Since becoming a werewolf, he’d started touching people much more often, more easily, and sometimes without even noticing it. He’d find himself with an arm around Graham, or leaning over Dez’s shoulder to look at something, and be surprised with himself.

They were never bothered. He was the only one who was taken aback by the behavior.

Given the scare they’d had, the fact that Lyndon was still missing and possibly stuck out in a blizzard, Gavin made a point of touching each of them, especially Graham. Their resident soft-touch baker was more sensitive than most, and felt a connection to the missing omega from the pack of his birth.

As usual, Gavin sat at the counter, surrounded by his pack. Miles was there, in a chair three seats away, and it felt like half a nation.

Miles belonged to the pack now.

It had been selfish of Gavin to keep Miles for himself. To keep him away from the pack, and all things pack related. He’d told himself it was to protect both Miles and them, but the truth was more selfish and pitiful: he’d known this would happen.

He had known the pack would love Miles, and beautiful, charismatic Miles would love them back. And how could he compete with that? They were everything he wasn’t.

Miles’s face practically glowed from all the attention, and he smiled at all of them, hardly noticing Gavin wasn’t next to him.

It was childish of Gavin to care about that. The important thing was Miles being happy, so he kept his big trap shut. He ate his sugary breakfast, he complimented Graham, and he sat there and acted like the alpha they needed him to be.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love them, didn’t love the job most of the time, but once in a while, as much as he loved everything about his pack, the job of alpha felt like a burden.

He couldn’t imagine being like the alpha of Ash and Graham’s pack, basking in the position and using it to pretend he was better than other people. It was a responsibility, not an accolade.

“So tell us what happened,” Graham said, finally sitting down to eat once he was sure everyone had been served. It was an old habit, and one they were working on, since he wasn’t a servant. But it seemed to make him comfortable, so as long as he knew it wasn’t required of him, they tried not to bring it up and shine an uncomfortable light on him. “I don’t know many bitten wolves, so I haven’t heard stories. Just, sort of, fairy tales.”

Sawyer nodded and pointed his fork at Graham. “What he said. We had a few bites, but it was mostly kids of wolf pairs that were born human.”

Graham gasped and stared at him. “That happens?”

“Sure. If one of the parents was bitten, it’s really common. Sometimes even with a human grandparent.” They all turned to Miles.

Thank goodness. Even if it weren’t inherently Miles’s story, Gavin didn’t want to tell it. It was almost as bad as the story of how he’d ended up half a wolf.

“I was unconscious for the important part,” Miles admitted, looking nervous, glancing at Gavin as though he thought maybe it was supposed to be a secret.

Graham gasped and leaned in. “You just... woke up a wolf?”

Gavin met that concerned gaze and tried to communicate with his eyes that Miles should tell the pack whatever he wanted. As much or as little, the truth or a lie, it didn’t matter; Gavin would back him if he claimed aliens had done it.

---