Page 67 of Scapegoat

“I guess it does.” She nodded slowly and I just stood there, wide eyed and not knowing what to do until she spoke again. “Well, if they’re treating you right…?” That was meant to be a statement, but came out more as a question and I nodded sharply. “Guess there’s not much I could do if they weren’t.” She let out a hiss of breath. “They’re bloody good shearers those… boys of yours. If they’re willing to do the right thing by you, you’ll have a lot better life than working for that idiot, Billy.”

“Yeah.” I smiled genuinely for the first time since I’d walked into the kitchen. “I hope so.”

We ate breakfast. There was a lot of conversation at the table, the shearers talking about what they wanted to get done today, then what they intended to do after work.

“We’re heading to the pub after we’re done for the day,” Ned, one of the other shearers said before settling his gaze on me. “You might like to come, K—”

“Kai will be with me tonight,” Jayden said, hooking his arm around my waist and staring the man down. There was a little mumbling around the table between the other men, but Jay’s message seemed to come over loud and clear.

“So what are we doing tonight?” I asked him in a low whisper when we walked over to the shearing shed to start the day.

“You’ll see,” was all he’d tell me before patting me on the arse and sending me on my way.

There was a challenge to being a wolf shifter in the human world. We could go further, work harder and had a lot more stamina than humans, but we couldn’t let them know that. Ned, the guy who’d asked if I wanted to go to the pub with him, stared at me as I ran over to Jay’s station, then removed all the bad parts of the fleece before carrying it over to the wool table.

“We’re going at a good clip,” Ned said and I fought the urge to freeze on the spot. I could almost feel his eyes roam across my skin. “How about a challenge? We’ll see who can shear the most sheep in the same amount of time.”

“You’re on,” Jay said, with a wink my way.

“Boys will be bloody boys,” Vicki muttered before stepping forward. “Don’t pink my bloody sheep with your stupidity, nor ruin the fleece.”

“Every one you think isn’t up to standard you can take from our tally, Vick,” the other guy said before nodding to Jay.

Some of Ned’s friends stopped shearing, sending their sheep on their way, then stepping up to the man’s workspace, obviously about to help him by dragging his sheep over for him to shear. Atlas cursed as he finished his last sheep and then he and Xavier stepped up to do the same. I had no concerns. I knew Jay could leave this guy in the dust, but Ned didn’t know that. He just stared at me, smirking when he heard Jayden’s low growl and then George gave them the word to start.

Jayden didn’t need to try. Or rather he did, but it was to slow himself down. As it was people swore as they watched him move, his arm a blur, his cuts precise, skimming the heavy fleece off the sheep’s back in long, regular strokes. But he could go faster, cut neater, tear through the whole bloody flock if that’s what he wanted, because as I stared, I saw it. Jayden was a wolf, whereas Ned? He was just a monkey, his eyes darting from me, to Jay, to his next sheep and then the tally board. His jaw locked tight and it was him snarling now, as he struggled to keep up.

Blood. I smelled its bright coppery notes as soon as Ned’s blades grazed the sheep’s side. It let out a plaintive baa, but that was quickly drowned out by the cries of irritation from Vicki and George. Vicki strode forward with a bucket in hand, one she’d explained the use of. I’d had a crash course in the severity of injuries, with her stressing in a voice far louder than needed for a private conversation that she didn’t want to see anyone needing to use it, but she’d tutored me in the different techniques.

Antiseptic spray to keep the wound from going bad. The amount of piss, shit, and being in close contact with other animals in a pen could mean an infection, and then there was the fly repellent. The British hadn’t really thought shit through, bringing sheep down to Australia. We had immense plains of grassland well suited to fattening sheep, but the blowflies? Sheep had to be crutched, the fleece around their arse and genitals shaved back to stop from getting fly-blown: infested with maggots. A fresh wound was just as enticing to them. I watched her doctor the sheep, then moved my arse, taking the next fleece away when she shot Ned a dark look.

I moved and moved, only taking Jay’s fleece away, not Ned’s, but it was clear already who was going to win. Not just win either. Jay was letting things slip, his teeth bared into a silent snarl, one where his fangs threatened to snap down, right up until the point George stepped in.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” he snapped as red blood blossomed on the side of Ned’s current sheep.

Beyond a mere scratch, I found myself stepping forward at the sound of the sheep’s cry. He’d hurt the beast badly and my twin natures warred. The wolf saw prey, saw blood, wanted to snap her fangs around its throat and gorge on its meat, but the woman? She saw an animal in pain, confused, tired, thirsty, hungry and now hurting. I snatched the bucket up and then rushed towards the sheep.

“Come to me, have ya, girlie?” Ned asked in a sly tone.

“Shut the fuck up!” I snarled and his head jerked back. His eyes widened and I was willing to bet he saw eyes of silver, not brown right now, but before he could ask anything else, I was up beside him, taking the sheep from him while uttering soothing sounds. The sheep fought me but I was far stronger than it, Ned and Vicki and George all together, something I tended to forget. I kept the sheep on its back and then grabbed the irrigation bottle, squirting the wound to remove any debris.

“That’s it, girl.”

Vicki watched me closely, not willing to step in even as watery blood formed a pool on the floor. I kept my feet, the sheep scrabbling around to try and get away, but I tightened my grip, letting out a little growl of warning. It got the message, going still. Then I reached down into the bucket to apply the antiseptic. I removed any wool sticking to the wound, then grabbed the needle and thread.

“Slowly now. She’ll fight you the whole way,” Vicki told me. “She doesn’t realise that you’re trying to help, just that you’re hurting her more.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” I told the sheep, command vibrating in my voice. Humans just would think I had ‘the knack’, a soft touch. But this is what omegas did. Alphas kept the order, made sure the pack structure was respected, but the omega? She was the heart of the pack. She could help take away your pain, make you feel calm when you were anything but. “You’ll get sick if I don’t do this.”

Those alien yellow eyes stared back at me as I bent over and went to work.

I’d darned socks and hemmed my sister’s dresses, but sewing a living, breathing creature was a whole other thing. Vicki gave me a steady stream of encouragement as I worked, commenting on the small size of my stitches and their neat placement. And when I finally was finished, the sheep was set to rights, then directed towards a pen that had been kept empty for just this purpose. The place for injured sheep to wait.

“I’m gonna have to get the bloody vet out now,” Vicki snapped at Ned.

“You don’t need to do that,” he spluttered. “It’s just one fucking sheep.”

“We do if we don’t want the RSPCA coming down on us, you fucking idiot,” George snapped. “Now, go for a walk and clear your head.”

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