5. Chapter 5
5
Hale promised nothing would change when he got a wife. He said it to soothe Bram’s pout and ease Oliver’s stiff back. The former hadn’t lost his fat lower lip since Esta arrived. The latter leapt up like a startled barn cat, caught lazing in the sun whenever the pretty beta drifted into view.
I knew things would change, but I didn’t realize how much.
She’d been here for two weeks, and I don’t know how we survived without her. Not because of her cooking. Her valiant efforts were admirable and edible, not gourmet. But I’d shovel my mouth full of dirt to bask in the golden glow of her smile. It was like watching the sun roll across the sky, growing in brightness until it beamed and dimmed like the sunset. My stomach clenched in the afterglow each time.
Esta's mild lemon scent was pleasant enough. It wasn’t her scent I loved, but her exuberant and curious nature. Her pale skin had a touch of color now despite how she swaddled herself up in the direct sunlight. It gave her a hearty look. No matter how she tried, there was something ethereal that clung to her fine features, moonlight hair, and crystal eyes. I was fascinated by how she let her curiosity drive her, thirsting for knowledge. Her exuberance and curiosity.
But I shouldn’t be thinking about my brother’s wife.
Not her bow lips, not her determined frown when she took on a task. Most caused by Bram, who gave her nothing but trouble ever since she arrived. If, late at night, my cock hardened to the point of pain at the thought of her hands exploring my body, it was only a natural response. I hadn’t been to Madam Silver’s in months nor felt the silky clutch of a woman in too long.
It was instinct.
Nothing more.
Each night, the thought of Esta tangled in my sheets, my bed, and my room in the main house, stamped into my brain. It made me heat with illicit lust. I was glad Oliver was sleeping in the barn with me, to stop me from whipping my cock out and jerking until I exploded. My actions made me feel dirty.
We lived like a pack, but we weren’t one.
Designated didn’t form packs anymore because it was against the law. One of the many that made us weaker, depending on who you asked. Designated were stronger than humans, but fewer. They had advanced weaponry we didn’t take seriously, until endless years of war decimated our numbers. When the Hierarchy Laws were signed it was too late to realize the loopholes humans threaded through the treaties. Monopoly of trade, controlling the most bountiful areas of the country.
But Designated persisted.
If these were the days of the past, Esta might have belonged to more than just Hale. She could have joined our pack, and shared my affection. But we were civilized, shiny, and proper with monogamy like the humans demanded. Instead, need built inside of me. A problem I didn’t want to address. It was sinful. Somehow, that made me pant more.
My daydreams morphed into me being married to Esta, curled up in bed together, hoarding her laughs. I looked toward the house, where Esta was safely ensconced. I avoided going inside except for dinner. It just gave my daydreams more fodder.
In front of me, Bram let out a pained groan, stomping his boot in the dust. He looked presentable, with his combed hair and unstained clothes. Nothing could be done about the sour expression. We’d let him grow too wild. I was proud of Esta when I heard how she demanded more from us. Perhaps we were all too wild for her, but I could wash the dirt off and pretend otherwise.
I’d do anything the little lady asked.
“Not you, too,” Bram groaned, and I frowned at him.
The rising heat baked the ground, and I knew today would be scorching. This summer was the hottest I could remember. I hoped Esta wasn’t too overheated in the small kitchen. Mama used to complain about sweating her body weight in water in summer. Esta wasn’t as hardy as women raised in the wildlands.
She was skittish about her past, but wherever that train she rode in was from, it was fancy.
She was still learning the grit needed to survive out here. I wonder if her muscles ached at the end of the day. If she needed the hard press of thumbs to smooth them out. What noises might she make, and if she would become soft and melt into my embrace? I jerked my thoughts away.
It was Hale’s job to care for his wife. I needed to focus on Bram and letting him down gently.
“You know what happens to an abandoned calf?” I leaned on the wooden fence with a sigh.
I’d forgotten how tender young hearts were. I’d long since hardened mine. Life on the ranch left little space for soft emotions. Not when we were one grim winter away from starvation.
Two years ago, a pack of wolves decimated most of the flock and attacked half the flocks close to Misery Creek. Everyone banded together to hunt them down, and one of them stared right at me as I pointed the barrel of my gun. My breath caught in my chest, and I paused, its golden eyes so sentient. But then it showed its teeth, and I remembered the truth.
It was me or him. Eat or be eaten.
Life was cruel in the wildlands and Bram needed to learn the lesson.
“The calf’s mother doesn’t want it, and I haven’t any luck getting the others to nurse. We don’t have time to hand-feed another mouth, not this summer. You’ll be up before the sun and in bed by moonlight. How are you going to care for a calf?”
It pained me to hurt my brother, knowing the deep loss he’d suffered still affected him. More than anything, I wanted to reassure Bram. To give him false hope and smooth the worry from his features. But this wouldn’t be the first time he’d have to make a tough decision. Better he learned not to get attached now. This first time would hurt the most. He wouldn’t forget it, no matter how many years passed.
Just like the golden sheen of wolf’s eyes painted on the backs of my eyelids.
We didn’t forget; we tucked it down and moved on. I knew why Bram wanted the calf. The boy was untethered for a reason. Losing our mama hit him the hardest. He hadn’t been ready to grow up fully, and he was still clutching at softness. He saw himself in the calf.
“I can care for it and get my jobs done.” He crossed his spindly arms over his chest.
We were in a stalemate. My glare deepened as he fixed his feet wide.
“Are you going to plant a fist on me if I try to go into that barn?”
He nodded and tucked his fists under his armpits. I rattled out another sigh, closer to a growl this time. Did he think I wanted to do this? I wasn’t a monster who enjoyed mercy killing a doomed calf. I wished the world was different, too. That there was more room for gentleness. But there wasn’t so I strode for the barn. Bram rocked on his heels, hollering as he chased after me.
“You bleedin’, frog stompin’ nincompoop.” He latched onto my arm and dug his heels into the dirt. “When I’m done with you, there won’t be enough left to snore.”
I grunted as I slammed the barn door open, dragging Bram with pure fury now. His fingers scrambled over me like snake bites, but the sting only bolstered me. My brother was wiry and lean like a feral dog. As ferocious as one, too, as his desperate teeth sunk into my bare forearm. The bite was a hot iron brand. I roared and shook Bram, hanging him in the air until his feet dangled.
“Let go, you little demon.” I tugged on his hair, determined not to hurt him, but my temper rose until my vision blurred. “It has to be done.”
I hooked my finger in his mouth, the same way I would release a calf from its mama’s teat, and Bram sprawled on the ground with a keening sob. He came at me again, but I kicked my boot in his direction. His teeth left a red, grooved crescent on my skin. His shoulders slumped, and the fire drained from him.
“Please don’t.” Bram’s childish voice aged a decade.
The futility cut me. He begged, knowing it would change nothing. He fought, knowing he would fail. The blustering rage peeled away, ineffectual against a larger foe. Me. I was the monster right now, and it made my chest radiate with a peculiar pain. Bram raised his gaze, covered in a fine sheen.
I shook my head, throat too tight for words. The calf would probably die, anyway. Most did when rejected. Bram’s hair was the same brown, shaggy color. The comparison made my stomach twist.
“What’s going on?” Esta came out of the calf’s stall, holding a bristle brush. Her smile unsure as she shook straw from her skirts. My stomach dropped to the floor.
Please, gods no.
It was enough to kill a calf in front of Bram, vibrating with rage and despair. I couldn’t do it in front of Esta. I didn’t want to tarnish her innocence. Bram shook his hand in her direction, seeing the reluctance on my face.
“Go on, tell her. She’s gonna bawl her eyes out like a baby.” He taunted, and I didn’t mention the waterline that was precariously full on his face. For once, Bram seemed happy to see our new beta. Esta’s forehead furrowed, and she fidgeted with the bristles on the brush.
“What are you doing in the barn?” I snapped, my anger at this situation funneled out and marked the wrong person.
Esta ducked her head sheepishly, not marred by the whiplike lash of my words. She wandered back into the stall, and I followed. My forearm stung, a reminder of what I was going to have to do, and the pain was unwelcome.
For once, I didn’t want to be the alpha.
But Hale and Oliver were out on the fields. Esta kneeled in the hay-strewn stall, where the doomed calf was curled. She brushed the soft fur on its back, her sweet expression like a knife to my stomach.
“I heard him crying from outside and couldn’t keep away. He nibbled on my dress, so I figured he might be hungry. I tried to give him some milk.” She waved uncertainly at a silver pail, still half full. It was too much for a calf that was going to die, but I couldn’t chastise Esta.
My chest throbbed, and Bram swallowed a gasp as he slipped past me. Esta tensed as the boy crouched in front of her, flicking me a glance when Bram didn’t immediately insult her. A rarity.
“Did he take some? I thought he was a goner; I’ve been trying to get him to eat.” Bram set aside his grudge toward Esta and hit her with a barrage of questions.
Esta drew the brush down the calf, which woke from its light slumber, and blinked large, warm brown eyes under lengthy lashes.
“Oh yes, poor darling needed some love.” Esta nodded, petting its velvet nose. “Would you like to take over? I didn’t know he was yours.”
Bram snatched the brush with a quick grin, but his strokes on the calf were gentle.
“Ruck doesn’t think the calf will survive.” The little brat didn’t tell her the whole truth, but his eyes flashed with triumph as he slid me a sly look.
He knew, just like I did, the bullet in my pocket was going nowhere. Esta struggled to her feet, flicking straw from her skirts, as she smiled at me.
“It seemed to have a hefty appetite just now. Perhaps it will prove you wrong. We should name him, give him more reason to stay.”
Bram’s eyes lit up, feeling victory in his grasp. This would not end well. My stomach twisted as Esta neared. The barest scent of faded lemon wafted to me, and I leaned closer, searching for something else.
“Let’s call him Charlie, then we’ll have a Dalton and a Charlie. Just like the story.”
Esta tilted her head, a strand of her white, blonde hair unraveling from her tight bun.
“What story?”
My nostrils flared as Bram grinned at me. The calf shifted so its head rested on his knee.
“Charlie and Dalton were the alphas who founded Misery Creek back when the river still ran. They were opposites. Dalton was loud and outgoing. Charlie was quiet and stoic. They staked their ownership of the land, but they were required to defend it for thirty days, as per the law. By the end, Dalton killed over twenty bandits who tried to steal their claim. And Charlie built them a shelter, just in time for winter. And the day their claim became valid, Dalton said—”
“Fat lot of help you were, Charlie. I ought to have staked this land on my own.” Bram filled in with glee. He loved this story and the macabre ending. Esta’s lemon scent tickled my nose. My mind struggled to comprehend how it didn’t match her nature. She was too beautiful for something so sour.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Charlie didn’t say a word. He just locked the cabin and refused to let Dalton in. A giant blizzard iced Misery Creek and Dalton couldn’t survive the cold. He could have ridden away, but he lit the cabin on fire instead. So, in the end, both died.”
Bram’s laugh echoed, but the paleness of Esta’s cheeks made me realize how messed up the founding story was. She looked at me, mouth agape.
“So, we have a Charlie. Who is the Dalton? And why would you call him after a madman?” She brushed past the story, and a knot unfurled in my chest. I pointed at the stall at the end of the barn, where my Dalton sulked. I waved a hand, and Esta followed me. Her skirts swished on the ground. Dalton poked his head out, his dark-pitted eyes narrowed.
“Dalton is a wild stallion I’m trying to break in. And he’s named so, because he’s unhinged.” I snatched Esta’s hand as she reached out to touch the horse’s nose. Dalton’s ears flattened on his head as he snapped. Esta made a soft noise, her hand still safe in mine. The unease inside of me quieted. I fought the urge to haul her closer against me, instead tugging her away from Dalton and dropping her hand. The sensation of her touch lingered. Tingles spread through my body like warm molasses.
“Don’t go near him. He has a real mean streak. The worst I’ve ever seen on a horse. But when I break him, he’ll be magnificent. Still, I don’t think he’d ever allow a beginner on his back. Promise me you’ll stay away?”
Part of me needed to hear the words to know she would be safe.
“He lives up to his name, then,” she grinned. “What about Charlie? He certainly wasn’t quiet when I came in earlier.”
“He has a lot of life in him at the moment, but mark my words, it won’t stay that way.” Read between the lines, I begged her silently. I didn’t want to be the one to wipe away the innocent optimism from her sunshine smile. Realism tasted bitter on my tongue, and I fought the urge to spit.
“He’s sweet. I could help look after him if you don’t mind me encroaching on your domain. I’d love to learn more about what you do with the mustangs. Maybe learn to ride myself?” She was running away with ideas, her tongue tripping over itself.
I couldn’t say no to that face. Even though I most definitely should.
Having her inside the barn, having her around me. Nothing good would come of this. But she was looking at me with such hope. It was tangible, a silk noose.
“A calf requires a lot of work, and Bram will work in the fields harvesting. But if I teach you to care for it, we can try. He still might not survive, and he won’t ever have a normal life. Can you handle that?”
My hope evaporated as Esta clapped her hands together and shared an excited look with Bram. My younger brother paused his petting to flash me a smug look. He’d gotten what he wanted, after all.
“I always wanted a pet,” she gushed.
I refrained from pointing out that a calf didn’t make a very good pet, but I’d already been proved wrong once today. Perhaps there was a win in this situation after all. Bram and Esta found common ground, and hopefully, the boy would continue to warm to her. I, on the other hand, needed to do the opposite. Esta stirred up feelings in me that had no place existing. I needed to keep my space. If she’d been an omega, Hale could have claimed her, and the temptation under my skin would lessen, I was sure.
“Charlie won’t stay adorable and small forever.” I sighed internally, slipping up and using the animal’s name.
Now, there really would be no going back.
I took Esta through the care of the calf, making sure Bram was listening as well. My spare time was limited as it was, and I didn’t want to spend it on a calf that was probably going to die. Esta listened with rapt attention, and each wide-eyed, full toothed smile stoked the embers in my stomach to a fire. I brushed my forearm against a hay bale and hissed, pain shooting through me.
“Oh, you’re bleeding. Was that Bram?” Esta hovered her fingers over the red bite mark Bram left. One groove was crusted with blood. I let out a dry chuckle and nodded.
My ribs tightened over my lungs, and my breath was short, gaze snagged on Esta’s fingers. Propriety kept her from touching me. Designated were delicate about scents, and I wondered if my scent or closeness affected her at all.
“You’ve got a tear in your shirt too,” Esta plucked at the broken threads, and my skin shivered. “Bring it for me tonight, and I’ll mend it for you.”
Of course, my scent meant nothing to her.
She’s my brother’s gods-damned wife. Esta wasn’t thinking about me at all. I rolled down my sleeve, grimacing as it slid over the bite mark. Esta licked her lips, watching the movement until pink flooded her cheeks. Her skirts swayed as she took a step backward.
“Thank you, Ruck.” Her soft voice melted into my bones. “I know sparing Charlie wasn’t what you wanted, but I appreciate you doing it for me… and Bram, of course. For Bram.” She shook her head and took another step back. I dipped my head and offered her a casual smile.
“I’m glad to make you happy.” My throat was thick with want as her cheeks flushed the vivid pink of the desert wildflower, and I wished I could pick her a bunch. But that wasn’t my right.
Esta belonged to my brother.
Not me.
Esta took her sweet smile and left, and a void opened in my chest at her absence. She wasn’t mine. But I knew the inside of my eyelids would be painted pink tonight as I tried to sleep.