Chapter 6 Levi
Levi
I was uncomfortably, undeniably full. Which was a problem, because ten minutes ago I’d told Mason with a straight face that I hadn’t eaten lunch yet.
Yeah. Real smooth, Levi.
The truth sat heavy in my gut right alongside the chicken and the stir-fry. I hadn’t needed the food, not really. I’d just wanted an excuse to stay with Mason a little longer.
That realization should have annoyed me. Instead, it made my pulse do something stupid. Mason stood near the door, hands shoved into the pockets of Nico and Tony’s borrowed jacket, looking like he wasn’t quite sure whether to stay or bolt.
The late afternoon light cut through the trees outside Tony and Nico’s house, striping across his face in bands of gold and shadow. My wolf stirred, interested. An idea came to mind. I cleared my throat.
“You feel like walking a bit? Help settle lunch,” I suggested.
His gaze flicked up, searching my face like he was trying to read something there. For a second, I thought he might say no. Was I being too much?
Then he nodded. “Sure.”
We stepped outside together, the forest air cool and clean. Pine and earth wrapped around my senses, familiar and grounding.
Normally it would have settled me completely. Today, not so much. Because Mason walked beside me, close enough that every small shift of his body registered in sharp, distracting detail.
We took the narrow trail that looped around the residential cabins, boots crunching softly over gravel and fallen needles.
The silence between us felt easy, like something already worn in, even though we barely knew each other.
His head tilted slightly. “You mentioned the other day that you were packless before.”
Mason was sharp; he remembered everything. I didn’t know why that thought suddenly flared in my mind.
“Yeah,” I said again, slower this time. “My family kept to ourselves.”
Mason’s gaze dropped to the trail ahead of us. “That must’ve been quiet.”
Quiet was one word for it; lonely was another.
“Sometimes,” I said.
I didn’t miss the way his shoulders eased just a fraction, like something about that answer mattered more than it should have. We walked a few more steps before he spoke again.
“What’s it like? Being part of something big now?” There was something careful in the way he asked. It wasn’t casual curiosity, but something closer to hunger.
“It’s loud,” I said, lips twitching faintly. “Pack dinners get chaotic. Everyone’s in everyone else’s business. Privacy’s basically a myth.”
That earned me a small huff of amusement.
“But,” I continued, voice quieter now, “you’re never alone unless you want to be.”
Mason went very still beside me. My wolf lifted its head. He sensed something there.
“Sounds nice,” Mason said, gaze fixed straight ahead.
My instincts were telling me that there was definitely more to Mason’s story than he was telling me.
I didn’t push and didn’t even hint at it. Every instinct I had said the same thing: that if I pushed too hard, Mason would bolt.
For reasons I was still trying to untangle, the idea of Mason disappearing into the woods and out of my reach made something in my chest go tight.
We rounded the bend in the trail, the trees opening slightly to let more light spill through. Mason lightly kicked a pinecone in our path, watching it skitter off into the brush.
I noticed that his scent had sharpened. He seemed nervous, and I wondered what he was thinking about.
My mind flicked back to the kitchen earlier. Mason mentioned that he used to cook for his brother. I hadn’t reacted at the time because I hadn’t wanted to spook him, but now the memory pricked at me.
That was new information, and Mason didn’t strike me as the type to casually forget to mention family. Suspicion deepened, slow and unwelcome. I didn’t like it, and especially didn’t like aiming it at him.
My wolf certainly didn’t. Trust him, the instinct pushed. However, instinct wasn’t evidence, and something didn’t quite line up.
I had to be careful about what I asked Mason next.
“Your brother,” I said, keeping my tone as neutral as I could. “You mentioned him earlier.”
Mason’s entire body went tight. There it was.
“He still around?” I asked, trying to keep my tone gentle.
Mason’s gaze snapped to mine, sharp and guarded in a way I hadn’t seen from him before.
“Yeah,” he said shortly.
Mason didn’t elaborate. Door slammed, and message received. I lifted both hands slightly in surrender.
“Hey. You don’t have to talk about it,” I said lightly.
For a second, something conflicted flashed across his face. Then his shoulders loosened a fraction.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “It’s just complicated.”
My chest did that annoying thing again. Of course it was complicated; nothing about Mason felt simple.
“That’s okay,” I said.
I meant my words.
Even with the questions starting to stack up in the back of my mind, and even with the faint, persistent sense that I was only seeing half the picture, my wolf still wasn’t alarmed.
He was alert, maybe, but not threatened. Which only made this whole thing more confusing. If I wasn’t attracted to Mason, I would definitely start questioning more.
Maybe he just doesn’t get along with his brother, I thought to myself. That could be the simple explanation.
We walked the rest of the trail at an easier pace, conversation drifting back to safer ground. Small, harmless topics like the weather. I told him about some of my packmates, silly family stories.
Mason even laughed once, and the sound was genuine. It was low and surprised, like it had escaped him by accident. I felt it all the way down to my bones.
By the time Tony and Nico’s house came back into view through the trees, the sun had dipped lower, painting the forest in warm amber light.
We slowed near the porch, but neither of us spoke for a moment. Then Mason shifted his weight, that same uncertainty from earlier creeping back in.
“I should go back in,” he said quietly.
My wolf immediately disagreed strongly, but I ignored it.
“Yeah,” I said.
I didn’t move away, and neither did he. God, this was getting complicated. Finally, I forced my feet to move, walking him toward the front door.
Halfway there, I stopped.
“Mason.”
He turned, brows lifting slightly. Up close like this, I could see the fine tension still riding under his skin.
The careful watchfulness. The way he was always half-braced, like the world had taught him not to relax too much. Something protective and possessive twisted low in my chest.
“I meant what I said earlier,” I told him quietly. “You’re safe here.”
His breath hitched. His gaze searched my face, like he was looking for the catch.
“Okay,” he finally said.
He didn’t sound fully convinced, but he didn’t dismiss my assurance either. That was progress in my book. I gave him a small nod and stepped back, giving him space.
He hesitated one more second, then returned to the house. I watched him go. Once he was safely inside, I dragged a hand down my face and exhaled hard.
I was undeniably interested in Mason, despite the doubt curling in the back of my mind and the questions that had started to stack up.
* * *
Dane’s cabin lights were already on by the time it came into view through the trees, warm gold spilling across the clearing like an invitation.
Good. Because my head was a mess. The walk over hadn’t helped at all. If anything, the steady crunch of gravel under my boots had just given my thoughts more room to spiral.
Cool evening air filled my lungs, sharp with pine and woodsmoke, but it didn’t ease the tension in my chest the way I’d hoped.
I stopped at the edge of the clearing, hands loose at my sides, staring at the cabin like it might have the answers I needed.
Mason’s face kept drifting through my mind. His uncertain smile, the way his scent had sharpened when I mentioned his brother. And still, my stubborn wolf refused to see him as a threat.
“Yeah,” I muttered under my breath. “This is getting real complicated.”
I shoved the door open and headed for the porch. Before I could knock, the door to the cabin swung wide. Dane filled the doorway, one brow already climbing toward his hairline.
“Well,” he drawled, folding his arms. “Either the world’s ending, or my favorite pain-in-the-ass brother needs something.”
Despite everything knotting up inside me, a crooked smile tugged at my mouth.
“Nice to see you too,” I said.
He stepped back with a snort. “Get in here before you start brooding on my porch and scare the wildlife.”
Warmth hit me the second I crossed the threshold, and something else. My nose twitched at the smell of steak. My stomach, traitorous thing that it was, perked up despite the fact I’d eaten two lunches.
Dane caught the shift in my expression immediately. His grin went feral.
“What’s for dinner?” I asked.
“Unbelievable. You don’t visit for days, and the first thing out of your mouth is about food,” he muttered.
I dropped into one of his kitchen chairs.
“That smells like ribeye,” I said gleefully. “Feed your favorite brother.”
He snorted but turned back toward the stove. “Beer’s in the fridge. And yeah, you’re staying for steak now. I already resigned myself the second you showed up looking like that,” he grumbled.
“Like what?” I asked.
“Like a lost wolf looking for advice,” Dane said.
I grabbed a beer and twisted the cap off, the cold bite grounding me a little as I took a long pull.
Dane plated the steaks with practiced ease and dropped into the chair across from me, eyes sharp despite his relaxed posture.
“So,” he said casually. “How’s the investigation going?”
I exhaled slowly. “Roadblock,” I admitted.
“Mm,” he hummed. “That so.”
We ate for a minute in comfortable silence. My brain was still doing laps, and apparently Dane noticed, because his mouth twitched.
“You know,” he said lightly, “word around the compound is you’ve been spending a lot of time with our little coyote guest.”
I froze mid-chew, and Dane’s grin widened like a shark scenting blood.
“There it is,” he sing-songed.
I set my fork down slowly. “You done?” I asked warily.
“Not even close.”
I dragged a hand down my face and sighed. I should’ve known better than to come here if I wasn’t ready for the full Dane experience, but the truth was I trusted him more than anyone else in the family.
We’d always run in the same orbit. Dane and I had the same instincts, and we had the same way of looking at problems sideways until they cracked open.
If anyone could tell me whether I was losing my mind, it was him. I leaned back in the chair, exhaling hard.
“I think I like him,” I admitted.
Dane went very still and, thankfully, didn’t tease me.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “This sounds serious.”
“It is,” I admitted. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”
Dane studied me for a long moment. “I can hear a but coming,” Dane said.
I scrubbed a hand over the back of my neck.
“The more time I spend with Mason,” I said slowly, “the more I realize he hasn’t been completely straight with me.”
Dane didn’t interrupt or rush me; he merely waited. That persuaded me to keep going.
“He didn’t mention this packless network before,” I said. “And earlier today, he casually drops that he has a brother.”
Dane’s brows knit. “That so?”
“Yeah.” I leaned forward, bracing my forearms on the table. “I thought he was completely alone out there. That’s the picture he painted.”
“I don’t like it,” I admitted quietly. “Something’s off.”
Saying it out loud made something twist in my chest. Right on the heels of that unease came the familiar, stubborn push from my wolf. Trust him. I exhaled sharply.
“Am I being paranoid?” I finally asked.
That was the real question, because there was a difference between good instincts and seeing ghosts where there weren’t any. Dane leaned back in his chair, expression thoughtful now.
“Maybe,” he said slowly.
My shoulders tightened.
“But,” he continued, holding up a finger, “maybe Mason just has trust issues.”
I frowned. Dane shrugged slightly.
“Guy’s been living alone, off-grid, keeping to himself. That kind of life doesn’t exactly build open-book communication skills,” he said.
“And the brother thing?” I pressed.
Dane’s mouth tipped to the side. “Also not weird if he’s used to keeping family details close to the chest.”
I leaned back, tension easing a fraction. Yeah, that tracked, and it also fit the Mason I’d seen so far. He was guarded and careful, not being deceptive on purpose. Maybe he was just protective of his family.
My wolf rumbled quiet approval. I was just starting to relax when Dane had more to say.
“That said, it wouldn’t hurt to look into him a little more,” Dane suggested.
My head snapped up. “What?”
“Tell Tony to do a background check. Don’t mention it to Mason.”
Heat flared fast and sharp under my skin. “Absolutely not.”
Dane’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Levi.”
“No,” I repeated, jaw tight. “He hasn’t done anything to deserve that.”
My wolf bristled, hackles lifting at the mere idea. Dane held up both hands in a calming gesture.
“Easy, brother. I’m not saying he’s guilty of anything,” Dane said.
“Then why suggest it?” I demanded.
“Because,” Dane said evenly, “the pack comes first, remember? If Mason’s a genuine threat, we shouldn’t let emotions get in the way.”
The words landed heavy between us, and dang it, I hated when he was reasonable.
He leaned forward slightly.
“Look, best-case scenario? I’m right. Mason’s just got trust issues and a complicated past,” Dane pointed out.
I didn’t like the “but” I could hear coming.
“But worst case?” Dane continued gently. “There’s something deeper going on that we need to know about before it bites the pack in the ass.”
Silence stretched tight between us.
My chest felt crowded, and the ugly truth was I could see the logic, but it didn’t mean I liked it. My wolf started pacing in tight, unhappy circles under my skin.
“You really think he’s a threat?” I asked quietly.
“I think,” Dane said carefully, “that you’re too close to this already to see him clearly.”
That one landed hard, and I looked away first, jaw tight.
“I don’t like it,” I muttered.
“I know,” Dane said.
I rubbed my face hard and realized this was the last thing I wanted, but Dane was right. The pack came first, always. Slowly and reluctantly, I nodded.
“Fine,” I said roughly.
My shoulders eased slightly, but inside, the tension didn’t budge. Even as logic lined up neat and reasonable in my head, my wolf stayed stubborn.
He was protective of Mason, already considered Mason ours. I had a bad feeling this was only going to get more complicated from here.