Hunter
Ifrown at Red’s position, lying in front of the fire. Ever since we got back from town yesterday, she has refused to sit on the couch with us.
It took Maddox carrying her up to his bed to get her upstairs last night. She didn’t seem put off when Maddox and Chase’s wolves lay with her, but once again, this morning when she woke, she resumed her position by the fire.
“She looks depressed,” Chase says through the pack bond from my side.
“You’re sure she didn’t smell or see the dead rabbit that was left on the doorstep?” I ask Maddox.
“She knew there was something there, but I’m pretty positive she couldn’t see it. Besides, I don’t think a dead rabbit would upset her this much,” he says, motioning with his chin toward her from where he sits in the armchair.
We’re all sitting in the living room, pretending to watch TV when really, we’re talking through the bond, trying to figure out what’s wrong and how to fix it.
“It’s probably the mention of the muzzle,” Bain says, joining the conversation for the first time since we sat down. “You saw how she reacted.”
It was kind of hard to miss the red wolf in the middle of Main Street howling in pain. We couldn’t get her out of there fast enough. I was slightly worried that Bain was going to murder Juliet on the spot, but luckily, he was preoccupied with getting Red out of there and stopping her from crying.
The fact that her wolf sheds actual tears is just another strange thing on the list of everything about her.
Even though she’s never spoken a word to any of us, she already feels like such an important part of our pack. I couldn’t imagine our lives without her here anymore. And the fact that she’s upset just frustrates the hell out of me.
I need something to snap her out of it. Chase and I already tried to play with her in our wolf forms in the backyard earlier, but she just lay down and refused to join us.
Getting an idea, I stand and move to the kitchen in search of something that I hope will get her moving. It doesn’t take me long to find the jellybeans, and I grab a small handful, then opt to sit right beside her on the ground.
I hold one out in my palm, right in front of her nose. It twitches as she smells it, but she doesn’t take the bait.
I hold it up so she can see it better as I tell her, “It’s a jellybean. You love these, right? Here.” I hold it out in front of her, and at first she doesn’t move, then her mouth slowly opens, and her tongue sneaks out to take it.
A smile pulls at my lips as I offer her another, and another. She eats all six I brought over for her, and when she finishes, I gently stroke down her head and back until she rests her head on my leg.
“She doesn’t seem upset with us,” I tell the others through the bond. “Just sad.”
“All the more reason to get out of Westgrove,” Gage tells us.
Maddox's phone chimes with a text message, and we all look at him, waiting for him to read it aloud. There’s pretty much only one person who’d be messaging him who isn’t in this room.
He frowns at the phone, then lets out a sigh. “There was a rogue spotted on the edge of town.” He looks at each of us before his gaze lands on Red. “Bain, Chase, and Hunter, you’re needed to help track it. Gage and I will stay here and take care of Red.”
“See you later, Red,” I tell her with one last stroke of her soft fur.
It makes sense to send the three of us. Chase and Bain were regularly part of the normal patrol schedule, and I often stepped in when they needed an extra hand.
“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Bain warns Maddox, who just shakes his head in return, clearly not amused with the order.
I follow Bain and Chase outside, where we toss our clothes to the side and shift. I’ve taken to fur more times in the past month than I ever have before. It feels nice, but mostly because my wolf loves to be around Red in her wolf form.
Bain takes off toward the forest, and Chase and I follow, side by side. We follow Bain’s blond wolf toward the location Maddox gave us from Kane.
I can feel the tension coming off Chase. Like me, and the rest of our pack, he’s clearly preoccupied with the current state of our little wolf. But I hate seeing my twin like this.
Suddenly, he nips at my leg, and the tension leaves me as I nudge him back. He’s clearly not as distracted as I had thought. He barks playfully at me.
I can tell it’s just an act, though. He’s not really relaxed. His brain is probably going crazy right now, trying not to think about the dangers around us. He’s been doing it since we were little.
We may have been born identical and see eye to eye on pretty much everything important, but we are two very different people, and sometimes it’s hard to get him to stop being my protector.
For as long as I can remember, he’s been standing up for me and putting himself in front of any danger that comes our way.
I want to stand beside him. I want to be his equal, but he’s always taken our protection on his own shoulders, just because he was born a few minutes before me.
When Maddox found us and took us into his pack, that protection extended to all five of us.
And even though Bain is the official head enforcer, Chase wanted to be right there beside him.
He trained hard and built an armor of humor as his best defense.
Sometimes I worried he didn’t know how to truly relax and be himself. Until Red showed up. I’ve seen more of the carefree brother I used to know in this past month than I have in years.
She’s good for him. She’s good for all of us.
“I can smell it,” Bain says, interrupting my internal ramblings.
I lower my nose as we start to slow, and sure enough, I get a whiff of it. It’s foul and smells a bit like a spoiled egg.
“That’s gnarly,” Chase comments as we continue to follow Bain to a clearing where several other members of the Westgrove patrol are waiting in human form.
Bain shifts to speak with Hendrix, the pack's head enforcer.
“You smelled it?” he asks, wasting no time on small talk.
“Yes, it gets stronger in this direction,” Bain tells him.
“There’s a second scent,” he tells us. “We’re going to follow the other one,” he says, gesturing to the three wolves with him. “You three take the one you scented. As usual, don’t follow it beyond the pack lands. We just want to make sure they’re gone. Hopefully, they were just passing through.”
Bain nods and shifts back quickly. We follow him through the clearing as Hendrix shifts and leads his group in a different direction.
We spread out in a line as we move through the woods so that we don’t miss any change in direction.
The smell is gross and reminds me of a rogue we found several years ago.
Sometimes, feral wolves have this distinct rotten smell, almost as if their scent changes to match the state of their mind—decay.
It was one of the reasons we knew straight away that Red wasn’t even slightly feral. She’s always smelled delicious. Like a cherry pie with a hint of smoky vanilla. And those few times when her scent has grown extra thick? My wolf has been tempted to take more than a bite out of her.
“I think it’s changing directions,” Bain says from our right as he starts to turn. Chase follows him, but I get a fresh whiff of its scent from my left.
“I smell it over here,” I tell them as I follow my nose around a large tree.
Just as I reach the other side, a searing pain goes up my leg, making me howl.
I whip my head around and find a large wolf with its jaws clamped around my back leg.
Its eyes are red, and straight away, I know this rogue has gone completely feral.
There’s nothing left in there of the shifter he used to be.
It’s the curse of not having a pack. Your humanity is drained by your wolf until all that’s left is instinct and a desire to hurt and kill.
I try to nip at him, but I can’t turn with his jaw on me.
Then Chase is there, on the rogue’s back, sinking his teeth into its neck. Its jaws open, and I quickly pull my leg free, limping away as Bain joins in, taking the rogue down with Chase with only a couple of well-placed bites.
I collapse to the ground, panting heavily as they finish him off. Chase quickly comes over and licks my leg.
I yank it away, and the action causes pain. “Fuck,” I hiss through the bond.
“Shit, sorry. How do I help you?” Chase asks as he stares at my injured leg.
“I just need to wait for it to heal.”
“It’s pretty bad. That will probably take all night,” Bain says as he looks down at my bloody leg.
“I’ll carry you back,” Chase says before changing to his human form.
“I’d rather you didn’t—” Chase ignores my protests, scooping me up in my wolf form and turning back to our home. Bain leads the way as I try not to feel pathetic being carried like some damsel in distress.
When we start to cross through our backyard, I tell him, “Put me down. I don’t want Red to see me being carried.”
“Suck it up, buttercup,” Chase says out loud. “I’m not letting you walk on that.”
Bain shifts at the back door and puts on his clothes, then takes me from Chase so he can get dressed and grab my clothes.
We step inside, and my eyes immediately find Red, still in the last place I left her by the fireplace. But when she sees me being carried, she’s instantly on her feet, practically running toward us.
“He’s okay,” Chase tells her as she shuffles from foot to foot. She lets out a soft whine, and Chase proceeds to tell them what happened.
Chase sets me on the ground beside her spot in front of the fireplace, and she immediately starts to sniff me. She rubs her head over my neck as another small whine escapes her.
Unable to resist the urge to reassure her with my words that I’m okay, I shift and immediately wrap my arms around her. “I’m okay, baby girl. I’m okay.” I pull back so I can see her face, then give her a little smile. “I’ll be right as rain by morning.”
“You should eat something while you’re in human form,” Maddox says as he moves to the kitchen.
“Let me help you move to the couch,” Chase says as he helps me stand. Red jumps out of the way but stays right on my heels. As soon as I’m sitting on the couch with clothes on, she’s right there beside me, looking at my leg with concern.
“Hey, I’m okay,” I tell her as I stroke her neck. She whines again, then a look of what can only be called determination crosses her face, and she closes her eyes. I can literally feel the tension radiating off her before her body starts to shake.
“What’s going on?” I ask in alarm.
“Shit, I think she’s trying to shift!” Maddox says as everyone moves closer.
She lets out a pained whine, making my heart clench tightly with worry.
“Help her!” I beg him.
“Don’t you remember what happened last time?” he argues. “I refuse to cause her pain like that again.”
“But what if it works this time?” I fire back.
“What if it doesn’t?” I press my lips together as I watch her, my heart breaking as I watch her entire body strain with the need to shift.
Of course, I don’t know what she’s thinking right now, but something about seeing me injured has made her desperate to shift. And even still, she’s unable.
When she finally collapses from the effort and starts to pant heavily, I hold her in my arms and whisper to her, “Everything is going to be okay, baby girl. We’ll figure it out.”
I say the words over and over, praying that they’re true, and that our sixth pack mate isn’t trapped as a wolf forever.