Page 1 of Fractured Fang: Omega

Chapter 1

Macs

Iwokeslowly.Onenice thing about being outside was that waking up early was not difficult. The minute the forest came alive, which was well before sunrise, my wolf pulled me from my sleep, ready to start our day.

Today, like always, I pushed myself up and shook out my fur. The morning dew lifted off me as I shook and wiggled the droplets away.

As per usual, I was the first to wake, but it wouldn’t be long before everyone else joined me. Once in a while, Franklin would be up feeding the children, but they were good sleepers now that they’d gotten older. According to Edith, they were lulling us into believing that all babies were this wonderful so that we would soon begin families of our own. As if it were that easy.

So far, no one had mentioned that I continued to sleep outside, despite the fact that the new house had been up for quite a few months. There was more than enough room for me inside the house as well as several cabins. One had been reserved, built, and furnished just for me.

It would make sense for me to be inside. I was grateful my pack didn’t push or even hint that I needed to be more domestic than I currently was. I just wasn’t ready, I guess. It was hard to pinpoint the whys of it all… I just went with my wolf’s instinct and called it good.

And really, it was mostly Franklin, Wilder, and their children, plus the witches in the house. Sure, there were several open bedrooms, and of course, there was an empty cabin for me if I wanted it. It was the only one available at this point. Now Jacob, Phillip, and Edith’s third-born son, and his mate Jasmine had arrived with their children. But even with the ample space, my wolf insisted that outside was where we were needed.

It wasn’t even about protecting the pack anymore, although that was how it started. We were safe here, our pack stronger than most triple its size. So no, security wasn’t the issue—it went deeper than that.

The new house and the cabin weren’t home. They didn’t smell like home; they didn’t feel like home. And no matter how many days passed, and rain showers washed away the soil, I still swore I could smell the fire in the air, the ash in the dirt, and feel the heat in the air. The remnants of the fire were long gone and yet somehow still present, like a ghost wafting through to remind me that this could all be gone in a nanosecond.

One of Franklin’s roosters crowed several times. The damn bird did not know he was only supposed to crow once to wake us all up and be done for the next twenty-four hours. I was looking forward to the day he would be in a pot, not that I’d tell Franklin that. He knew that was where they ended up, of course. But he still loved them.

I began my day like I usually did, caring for the larger livestock. We had several pigs and goats that ran amok. They were, in theory, the smartest of our animals; if they were, it only made their shenanigans worse. The cattle at least appreciated us. Sure it was because we fed them, but still, they were nice and cuddly. If you caught them on the right day, you could lay out in the pasture with them at your side.

The pigs and goats were menaces, but they kept us entertained. Well, they kept me entertained. Pretty sure if Edith saw the pigs out again, she’d have them personally filleted by her mate.

I didn’t have the heart to tell her we would be adding sheep to the family soon enough. There were a couple of local places where we could use the wool if not just for ourselves, but for income. I loved dual-purpose animals, which was why I tried not to be too much of an ass about the chickens. They gave us eggs and meat. Not the rooster—he just gave me a headache.

The goats so far made us the most profit. The goat’s milk soap made some of our best, and people were willing to pay a decent price for what leftovers we had. So far, it wasn’t much, but we were still figuring all of this out. Soon enough, we’d have this all streamlined. At least, that was my goal.

Within a few hours, I had my chores done for the morning. And like I often did, I found myself with downtime. With more hands on deck, a more efficient kitchen, and the construction done, there was less to do for each individual. Franklin and Wilder filled their days with family time, and I loved that for them. But also—my wolf was starting to get notions of a family of our own, and sometimes I found myself a bit on the jealous side, not that I’d let them see that. They deserved their happiness, and one day I would deserve mine.

Chores complete, I cleaned up and was ready when it was time to eat. We all sat down for breakfast as a pack daily. The habit started by accident, and now it was what Fractured Fang did. I loved it most days. But today, something was off with me or maybe my wolf; whichever the case might be, it just wasn’t me.

The conversation flowed freely around me, and I found myself only listening with half an ear. It wasn’t fair to me or my pack members to miss out on this time. I needed to pull myself out of this funk.

The house we lost to the fire was just a house, and I needed to figure out how to push past it. It wasn’t the be-all, end-all of the world—it was just sticks and paint if you really thought about it. The important part was that my pack was okay, and no one was hurt. Sure it sucked that it was gone, but why I let it get to me like this… It was frustrating.

I wasn’t sure it had truly been home to me in the first place. And if I looked at things logically, I still had the territory, and I still had my pack.

“You mentioned wanting to purchase some sheep, Macs?” Wilder said.

It took me half a second to realize Wilder was talking to me.

“Sorry, say again? I haven’t had enough coffee.” It was a pathetic excuse for not listening to your Alpha, but it was the best I could pull out of my ass at the time.

“Sheep…do you have a lead on some?” he asked, no anger or frustration on his face. Wilder was a great Alpha, with patience for days. A fantastic skill for a father of triplets. He had really grown into his role.

I swallowed the bite of scrambled eggs. They were cooked to perfection, just like always. Phillip was a master chef and could cook many delicious and fancy meals, but his eggs were my favorite. He said it was because he used an abundance of butter, but it had to be more than that. They were just so much better than any attempt I’d ever made.

“I’d like to get a pasture set up for them first and a little shed.” Right now, the animals’ space was manageable, but with more four-legged terrorists running around, it wouldn’t be.

“Maybe one of those with a storage unit attached, like what we have for the cows, so we can store their feed immediately,” Wilder said and looked to Edith.

Edith was our construction person; she understood the cost of materials and how they fit in with our budget. We were pretty solid now, which was great. Starting with nothing had been rough on it. It all worked out for the best, though.

She chuckled at his glance. “I was going to see what we could maybe do with the surplus funds, but I’m not sure we’re ready to take on another big project just yet.”

She made a solid point. Just because we had the money didn’t mean we had to spend it, especially on some sheep we may or may not get. I was still a little bit disappointed. Having a project like the sheep to work on sounded like the perfect thing to steal my focus and make me feel like I was making a positive difference to the pack.

---