Chapter 47 Useless
Chapter Fourty Seven
Useless
— Sunday —
I wake slowly with the chill of the early morning biting at my skin. The ground beneath me is damp, the scent of wet moss and earth filling my nose as a shiver racks my body. A faint mist curls low to the ground, its ghostly fingers brushing against my bare arms.
The world around me feels muted, the forest shrouded in soft gray light, the fog clinging to the air like a veil. I shift slightly, and my fingers find fur—warm and solid against the cold. Three shapes surround me, their breaths condensing in the frigid air, rising in soft, even puffs.
Ben’s massive bulk radiates heat like a living furnace, his thick fur a shield of warmth against my back, warding off the morning chill. My jaguar lies curled against my legs, their body coiled tightly, a sentinel against the mist’s icy creep. Their sleek, deep brown coat is patterned with black rosettes that shimmer faintly as the first rays of sunlight pierce through the trees, dissolving the shadows.
My wolf—my newest mate—is closest, his head resting on his paws, those astonishing eyes half-lidded but never fully at ease. His gaze meets mine briefly, a flicker of molten warmth that sends a flutter through my chest. Then he looks away, his eyes dipping to the ground as though that single moment of connection was enough.
Slowly, he lifts his head, giving it a slight shake that sends a ripple through his gray fur. Then he begins to crawl forward on his belly, like a hound who thinks he’s about to be scolded but wants to charm his way out of it.
His powerful frame shifts forward in careful inches, shoulders rolling smooth as syrup, ears angled back in a gesture that says, don’t mind me, I’m harmless . Then it happens—a moment so brief I might have missed it—the slightest tilt of his chin, exposing his throat in a purposeful gesture of deference, honoring me as his mate.
When he’s close enough, his muzzle dips, and I feel the tentative brush of his nose against my cheek. A soft exhale of warmth follows, and then his tongue—rough yet purposeful—grazes my chin.
I scrunch my nose, wiping my face with the back of my hand. “Ugh, Tomas,” I mutter, my voice raspy in the quiet. The motion draws my attention to the salty, slightly metallic taste of blood lingering on my tongue. That’s new.
“Tastes like I’ve been licking Satan’s dirty ashtray.”
My wolf lets out a soft huff, his ears twitching, and for a moment, I think he’s amused.
I press my hand more firmly to my mouth. Blood. Was it mine? His? I can’t tell. The memories come in jagged fragments—heat, moonlight, the pull of the bond, the bite. And… something else. Something still hovering just out of reach.
Chasing.
I remember the rush of air against my skin—no, not skin—and the drumbeat of paws pounding against the earth. The hunt. The desperate need to catch something just ahead of me, its scent sharp and electric in my nose. Holy shit, did I shift? And if I did… what did I become?
I glance around but the stillness of the forest offers no answers. The others are curled around me in their animal forms, their breaths slow and even, their silence absolute.
Lifting my head slowly, I squint against the pale morning light, and take in the scene. Someone’s dragged the cooler here, its scuffed blue sides a jarring splash of color against the muted grays of the dawn forest. My clothes are folded neatly on top—a detail so absurdly thoughtful I almost laugh—but the idea of walking my entirely naked self over to grab them, of leaving this pile of warm bodies, is utterly abhorrent.
I sit up straighter and take a deep breath. Okay, if I shifted once, I can do it again . Closing my eyes, I will whatever part of me that might still be animal to come forward. After so many visits from Shadow, you’d think finding that part of myself would be as easy as pie.
Nothing.
I crack one eye open, peeking down at myself. Still me. Still human.
Oh, come on.
I let out a sigh, my shoulders slumping in defeat. Shadow stretches lazily, moving closer to Ben before curling back up, tail draped over their eyes as if to declare the morning sun an unwelcome and deeply offensive intrusion.
The faint sound of running water catches my attention, trickling through the trees like a gentle reminder that the world hasn’t stopped spinning, even though my head insists otherwise.
I tug on my clothes, shivering in the damp chill of the morning. My T-shirt and shorts are woefully insufficient, but Ben’s old flannel lies neatly beside my pile. I glance over at the cave bear snoring audibly nearby and can’t help but smile. He’s probably the one who dragged the cooler here and thought to leave me a shirt.
My fingers tremble slightly as I button it up, the familiar Christmas cookie scent of him wrapping around me and warming me far more than a simple scrap of flannel ever could.
A shiver rattles through me, and before I can stop it, a choked sound slips past my lips.
Shadow stretches luxuriously before shifting back into their human skin. They roll their eyes and grumble, “Are you trying to become a popsicle?” Their voice is rough with sleep, and they’re stark naked, but they don’t seem to care. With a dramatic sigh, they grab the Pendleton blanket and drape it over my shoulders, pulling it tight around me.
“There,” they mutter, their fingers lingering at the edges of the blanket. “Now you’re warm. Your mates are useless.”
A laugh bubbles up, bright and unexpected. “You’re one of my mates, you know.”
“Exactly.” They smirk, their green eyes glinting. “The best one.”
A low rumble draws our attention. Ben’s cave bear lumbers toward us, his massive frame barely disturbing the underbrush. He pauses to scratch his enormous ass on a tree, the bark splintering under the pressure.
I snort, and Shadow rolls their eyes heavenward.
“See?” they mutter. “Useless.”
But I can’t stop the grin spreading across my face. The sheer bear -ness of him is so fundamentally Ben that it tugs at me. He huffs, his breath misting in the cool air, then pads closer, his head lowering until his cold, wet nose bumps my shoulder.
Without thinking, I reach back with one arm, keeping the blanket snug around me, and run my hand over his massive skull. Dew clings to his coarse fur, cool and damp beneath my fingers.
Then, my wolf stirs. He rises from his spot, shaking out his fur until it resembles a sky of ragged storm clouds. Then he trots away, disappearing into the underbrush, and for a moment, I think he’s off to do something serious, something noble—or maybe just pee on stuff. I don’t know.
He returns with an offering: a rabbit—still twitching.
“Oh, hell,” I mutter, my stomach clenching.
He sets it at my feet, his molten eyes gleaming with pride. The rabbit gives one final shudder and goes still.
“Uh… thanks?” I manage, my voice wavering between amusement and horror.
Shadow snorts. “Fantastic. Breakfast in bed.” They poke it with a bare foot. “Very fresh. It’s exactly what every woman wants, verdad?”
But there’s no real heat in their words. They kneel beside me, their hand slipping beneath the blanket to squeeze mine, as if to say, We have you.
And I know it’s true. In all this chaos, in the messy journey that brought us here, they’ve never faltered—none of them have. With every challenge, we’ve grown stronger, closer. If we make it through this, if we carve out a peaceful existence for my family and our House, it’ll be because of these bonds we’ve built.
I glance down at the blanket wrapped around me, the raven holding the sun in its beak—a light stolen from the darkness. I let that light seep into me, warming me from the inside out.
“Let’s go home,” I whisper.
Xavier shifts back into their jaguar form, their sleek body moving with quiet grace, while Ben’s bear falls into step beside them. My wolf nuzzles my hand once, a fleeting touch, before trotting ahead to lead the way. Somewhere in the distance, the hum of a car accelerating over a paved road drifts through the trees.
I follow, the blanket trailing behind me, its edges brushing the earth. Each step takes me closer to a future I can’t quite see—and further from the girl I once was.
***
The moment we step inside the packhouse, I almost reel from the explosion of scents. It’s like my nose has been upgraded from black and white to technicolor—every aroma sharp and vivid, layering over each other until it’s almost dizzying. But in this case, I couldn’t be happier.
The scent of syrup, warm butter, and yeast-raised waffles wraps around me like a hug. The tang of fresh strawberries cuts through the sweetness, bright and juicy, mingling with the faint bitterness of dark chocolate. And beneath it all, there’s the addictive aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the faint, now familiar musk of my mates.
This is the smell of home, and it hits me hard. Not Granny’s house, not Colton’s, not Daddy’s, or even my sad little condo in the desert. This is our pack’s home, and it smells like all the best things. The realization steals my breath for a moment—I’m so gosh darn lucky.
Shadow nudges me towards the kitchen, ‘accidentally’ pushing me against the hallway twice on the way there and sucking on my neck before leading me to the breakfast nook.
The table is already set with plates piled high with waffles, golden and steaming. Strawberries glisten like rubies on top, nestled beside clouds of whipped cream and delicate curls of chocolate shavings. Syrup pools in glossy amber puddles with butter islands floating atop them.
“Everything smells so good! But who in the world cooked us breakfast? We were all sleepin’ in the woods not thirty minutes ago.”
I narrow my eyes at Shadow—the most obvious suspect, culinary skills, check. Ability to move really fast, check. Enjoys stuffing me with sweets? Double-check.
Shadow smirks, a glint of mischief in their green eyes. “You think I did this all by myself? Your family pitched in. Your dad brought the supplies, and Sue made sure everything was ready for when we dragged our feral selves back.”
“Oh bless Sue,” I say, sighing dramatically, “for the food and for leaving before my walk of shame.” My eyes slide to Tomas who shakes his head.
“I’m absolutely starving I could eat a horse and the buggy too.”
Ben grins, “In shifter culture, we always have a big after-bonding breakfast.” He pauses, letting the implication settle, his smile widening. “You know, after a mating run, you’re wiped out. Hours of chasing, shifting, biting—letting your animal take over. It burns through every ounce of energy you have.”
He laughs softly, his gaze flicking to Tomas and back to me. “You need mountains of food—eggs, bacon, waffles drowning in syrup. Enough to replenish what you lost… and then some.”
His hand brushes my hip, a playful squeeze, his voice dropping lower. “It’s a way to celebrate, sure, but it’s also survival. Our animals demand it. And let’s be real, after a night like that, you’ve earned it.”
“Speaking of,” I interrupt, narrowing my eyes, “what exactly did I shift into last night?”
Shadow leans back, their grin spreading wide. “Oh, you know, a wild creature.”
“Very wild,” Ben adds with mock seriousness, his eyes gleaming as he stands.
Tomas finally chimes in, his tone deceptively mild. “Untamed, even.”
I cross my arms, leveling them all with a glare. “That’s not an answer.”
Shadow shrugs, their green eyes sparkling with amusement. “If you want the truth, we’re not sure. You were fast, though— way too fast for us to keep up. But you definitely had that sleek, predatory edge to you.”
“Right…the shadow walker couldn’t keep up with me. I call bullshit.”
Ben chuckles, and calls from the kitchen, “Whatever it was, it was magnificent.”
Tomas nods, his golden eyes locking on mine. “And dangerous. Wouldn’t want to be on the other side of those claws.”
My stomach flips, heat crawling up my neck. “You’re all the worst,” I mutter, reaching for the last waffle to hide my embarrassment. “There should be a law…” I grumble.
“You’d think she’d worked up an appetite or something,” Ben’s eyes twinkle with way too much mirth as he sets down a fresh batch. I bet his animal side would tell me what I shifted into.
I try mean-mugging them for a few minutes, but they’re united in keeping my animal a secret from me. Eventually, I give up and dig back in, finding it impossible to stay angry with waffles in my mouth. Sweetness and warmth flood my senses, each bite a counterpoint to the wildness that still thrums just beneath the surface of my skin.
I swear if this was my last meal on earth, I’d count it as a triumph.
We laugh between mouthfuls, reckless and easy. Shadow flicks a strawberry at Ben, who catches it in his mouth with a playful growl. Tomas’ eyes gleam with approval, his smile soft and open as he watches us. The bond between us hums in the background, a thread of gold tying us all together.
Breakfast leaves me warm, full, and drowsy, but I can’t escape my nose. I stink and I’m itchy, I won’t be able to relax until I’m clean.
Standing under the steaming spray, streaked with dried mud and twigs tangled in my hair like forgotten ornaments, I wash away the remnants of the night’s wildness, dried in sticky patches and still clinging to my skin.
Hot water sluices over me, but it’s their hands that truly do the work. Ben’s fingers anchor my hips, his grip firm and possessive, while Shadow’s mouth traces fire along my shoulder. My back meets the cold tile, the shock grounding me even as my mind fogs with delirious need.
They take me in tandem, their touches fierce, each movement a deliberate act of reclamation. Their scents layer over me again—ginger and ashes, pine and cardamom—staking their claim. My mind quiets, instincts humming with the certainty that this is right. I almost smell like myself again. As soon as Grayson rises, I’ll rub all over him, and then… then I’ll be properly perfumed.
My Alpha’s molten gaze holds me together, his silent approval as potent as any touch. Even as I fall apart, it anchors me. When my release finally claims me, it’s a rush of surrender—pure, instinctive, and wilder than I’ve ever felt before.
By the time we emerge, the packbed calls to us like a siren’s song. I sink into it, surrounded by warmth, strength, and the unshakable sense of being exactly where I belong.
***
I stretch languorously, feeling a glorious ache in muscles I didn’t even know I had. My fingers brush against my ring, the cool metal a reassuring contrast to the warmth cocooning me. I lift my hand, watching the stone flash blue-green in a shaft of afternoon light.
Bonded. Engaged. The thought does a giddy little two-step in my brain before I slip back into that hazy place between waking and sleep. Who’d have thought I’d be here—wrapped up in my Alpha, in all my mates, snuggled down in a whole heap of happiness?
I drift for a moment, floating on the edge of consciousness. Through the fog, I glance over my shoulder at Big Daddy Wolf. His hair’s a mess, curls tumbling over his forehead, his face relaxed, jaw softened by stubble. Even his wolf seems content, probably snoozing right along with him. He looks so peaceful, and Lord knows he’s earned a lie-in.
But Ben and Shadow are already up. A quick check of their bonds tells me they’re busy with something—a buzz of industriousness threading through their emotions.
My heart squeezes, a wave of affection pulling me deeper into drowsiness. The universe finally feels like it’s cutting me some slack.
A whisper of a thought nudges me awake again: maybe I should check on Grayson. He’s probably sprawled out in his suite under the house, dead to the world until sunset. I smirk. Sure glad I don’t have to sleep all day .
A sharp clang echoes through the open window, snapping me fully awake, followed by a high-pitched puppy bark. Sumi must be supervising Ben and Shadow, which probably means something’s getting chewed on that shouldn’t be.
Careful not to wake Tomas, I slide out from under his arm. He lets out a little grunt, his lips tugging downward, like he knows I’m leaving and doesn’t like it one bit. My heart melts as I press a kiss to his forehead and whisper, “Be right back.”