Chapter 16
JAX
I don’t know how long I roam in the darkness, through barren scrublands in my wolfen form.
I do know I’m disappointed. So much for Baden wolves. Are there even any left? Or have they all died of starvation out here in this pitiful wasteland.
I’m about to turn and retrace my steps when a pair of red eyes shine out of the darkness.
First one set, then another.
Suddenly they are everywhere, surrounding me.
Ah, fucking finally.
The fur along my spine bristles.
My powerful wolf legs pump with adrenalin, my nostrils flare, and my vision sharpens to a razor edge.
I can clearly see their silhouettes now, their heads bowed, ready for attack, the fur on their backs raised, fangs glinting in the ambient light from their distant bonfires.
The stench of their breath as they prowl closer makes my snout wrinkle.
It’s the smell of rotten meat and starvation.
Braden pack wolves, at least half a dozen or more, are closing in. Maybe these are the very wolves that attacked me three years ago.
But I am not a mere human anymore. Trojan blood pumps through my veins.
Warrior blood.
My wolf can recall that night, and it’s ready to avenge me. Ready to prove our supremacy over these scumbags who would have left me for dead.
I sense that being here is a rite of passage. A sign that I am ready to be a true warrior, to beat the addiction that led me into this feral pack in the first place, seeking succor from my sadness through drugs.
To prove that I am worthy of taking a mate.
And if we fail—then fuck, I don’t deserve her.
As the eyes move out of the shadows, I am ready. We are ready…
One by one, those feral bastards close in… and pounce.
Three of them land on my back at once, snapping close to my throat with their fangs.
I snarl and throw them off in one easy shake. Then I grab each of those fuckers in my powerful jaws and hurl their bony wolf bodies into the dirt. I hear them whimpering, and the sound of their paws as they limp off into the dark recesses of this sad and sorry place.
I stand, panting, all four huge paws firmly planted, ready.
I sense another one creeping up behind me and I pivot, then grab the creature by the scruff of its mangy fur.
Then I roll it, exposing its underbelly, pinning it with a paw as I bare my fangs and snarl. I could kill this pathetic creature right here. But I wouldn’t waste my energy.
Instead, I toss it away into the night. Two other pairs of eyes retreat, and I hear the whines that spell surrender.
The Bradens know they are no match for me.
I turn to leave, but another one, bigger than the rest and even more feral, launches at me. It catches me off balance and I stumble, and then its jaws clamp around my throat. I feel a sharp puncture to my flesh, then wetness that signifies blood. Another claw scratches my face just above my eye.
We tumble, snapping, snarling, each trying to bite and claw the other. In this moment, I lose sight of my human self. In this moment, I know what it is to be wolf. Truly wolf, a wild predatory animal, in tune with nature.
A primal power like I’ve never experienced before, takes over. I open my jaws and bring them down on the wolf’s neck, biting into flesh and sinew, tasting it’s sour blood. I shake it within an inch of its life. Then I drop it and watch it run pitifully away.
My wolf could have killed that disgusting animal, yet it chose not to. Its instinct was to survive, not to take life for the sake of it.
I raise my snout and let out a long howl. The sound echoes into the distance, to be met only by the silence of a pack that have fled and gone to ground.
As I pad away, my heart slowing, I sense my human returning.
My body starts to complain at the bites and scratches I’ve encountered.
I catch sight of the Braden outbuildings in the distance.
Broken down shanties, not even hewn into the rock, because that would no doubt require too much effort from their drug-ravaged bodies.
They can’t manufacture drugs here in this gods forsaken wasteland, so they merely exist, finding what prey they can, meager as it is.
That could have been my life, if I’d even lived through the ordeal of them savaging me.
But fate took me down a different path.
As I turn and prowl back toward the barbed-wire fence, my spirits soar.
We did good, my wolf and I.
“Thank you,” human Jax whispers, from somewhere deep inside my wolf form.
My wolf growls, soft and low.
I let myself settle into its sinews and bones, into the easy tread of its huge body as it takes us home.
Home?
Yes. The Trojan pack are my home.
And Tippy is my mate.
It’s time to make that clear to my wolf.
About Tippy. I firm my voice. You will respect my—our—mate. Do you hear me? No more belittling her, no more sexist, macho comments.
I’m about to say more, but then I stop. Really, what does it matter? My wolf knows my feelings intimately. It shares them. I swallow hard, and finally I find the words. I say them out loud. “I love her. Okay?”
Silence.
“You heard me.”
Silence.
“What’s more, you fucking love her too.”
My wolf emits a deep rumble, a sound that is soft and warm around the edges.
It’s as much of an admittance as I’m going to get.
But it’s enough to make my heart swell with joy.
Because finally, I can tell Tippy how I really feel, with no fear of harming her.
I shift into my human self once I’m over the barbed-wire fence, and skid onto two legs inside the boundary of the parklands.
I’m dressed in my black jeans and tee, though they do feel a tad… crumpled. And I do need to clean my face, my mouth. I find a stream and douse my face and take mouthfuls of the sweet pure water, spit it out, then drink deeply.
I dry my face on my t-shirt, marveling at how easy and effortless this process of shifting was.
The last time I came out of a shift, I fell deeply unconscious. Thankfully, there’s no dizziness, no sign of passing out. Instead, I’m energized, focused, and alert.
I’m probably never going to understand the magic of shifting. I guess there’s no need to fret on something that is beyond my comprehension. What is important is that I find Tippy and that we talk, openly, honestly. And after that…
With a lightness in my step, I stride back toward the den, rehearsing what I’m going to say. A few wolf men and women greet me, and I respond with a salute, a hand to the brow, in true Trojan fashion.
It comes naturally now.
Things feel… different. My wolf isn’t tugging at my insides like it wants to burst out of me. It’s settled in my chest, almost as if it’s curled around my heart.
When I think loving thoughts about Tippy, my wolf remains respectfully silent, just listening, in sync with my thoughts.
I’m going to tell her how making love to her would make me the happiest guy in the whole Labyrinth. That I want to make her come over and over, just like she did earlier, keening at my touch. That I want to wake up beside her every morning and go to sleep with her in my arms each night.
And boy, I want it to start right now, tonight.
I almost break into a run.
And then I catch sight of a small group walking along a path toward the center of Wolftown. They stand out from the wolfen folk.
Of course they do.
A huge fucking minotaur, his horns at odds with the wolf folk here, holding the hand of a pregnant blonde human.
And trotting along beside them is the cutest little redhead, with pointed ears and the sexiest white-tipped tail. Dressed as if she’s going out for the evening.
Tippy.
My Tippy.
I remember suddenly that we were supposed to be having dinner with Arlo and Sammy. I was supposed to tell her… before everything went pear-shaped.
I feel my wolf wake up and scent her. For a moment, I’m on alert, hoping it doesn’t make any vulgar remarks. But it just lets out a small whine of pleasure.
I stroll over, my movements loose and easy. My wolf’s presence isn’t causing me stress now. I trust it around her. At last, we are on the same page.
Tippy’s amber eyes widen as she spots me.
Arlo lets out a holler, then bounds over and claps me on the back. I look at Sammy’s big belly and can’t help remarking, “Wow, Blondie, that’s one big bump.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Sammy laughs.
“No-one has called me Blondie since I last saw you, Jax, and I miss it soooo much!” Now it’s her turn to hug me.
I feel the roundness of her belly like a huge basketball against me.
“I have to push this out in another four months,” she says ruefully, rubbing her low belly like she’s got the biggest prize inside her.
Which I guess, knowing this is the first hybrid youngling in recorded history, is pretty close to the truth.
Arlo grins like the proud father to be that he is. There’s a reason humans wanted the enzyme in his sperm so badly. Arlo truly is a magnificent specimen of a bull man.
Finally, I turn to Tippy. Her eyes are huge, and there’s uncertainty in their depths.
Her cheeks burn bright and I hope my eyes tell her what words can’t right now.
But perhaps they don't, because she crosses her arms and taps her little foot, frowning fiercely.
“Where the hell have you been?” she says gruffly (as gruff as a small wixen can be, that is).
“I went for a run.”
“For nearly three hours?”
“Yeah, I had to burn off some energy.”
She flushes deeper, but still she studies my face, her eyes narrowed. “You’ve got a big bruise just below your left eye.”
“Have I?”
“Yes, and a deep scratch above your right eyebrow. Oh, and your neck is bleeding.”
I put my hand up and realize that some wounds obviously transcend the wolf/human shift.
“Have you been in a fight?”
“Nah. Just a tangle with a briar bush at the edge of the parklands.”
“Yeah, whatever.” She shrugs, then moves to the other side of Sammy. The energy is clearly awkward between us. Arlo and Sammy exchange glances, no doubt picking up on it.
“Let’s go and eat,” Arlo says with forced jocularity. “You arrived bang on time, Jax.”
We all fall into step.
Tippy stays well away from me, chatting animatedly to Sammy about skin care products for a swelling belly. I have to be patient, I remind myself, bide my time until we can be alone.
“Here we are!” Arlo bellows excitedly as we arrive at a crowded restaurant.
Fangs Fine Dining lives up to its name. The food is delicious.
As we sit and eat around a heavy petrified wood table, the sconces burning brightly around us and the plants that grow here twining around the small gazebos, I have to admit I’m ravenous.
So is my wolf. Beating the Braden pack’s asses may have calmed my psyche, but it sure has left a big hole in my stomach.
Tippy sits at the other end of the table. I keep glancing at her as she nibbles on her roll and picks at her food. She seems to have lost her appetite.
If she senses my gaze, she ignores it.
How ironic that I’ve tamed my wolf, and now Tippy will barely acknowledge me.
Maybe she sees our make-out as a huge mistake.
Maybe she’s regretting it.
My confidence wavers, but only for a moment. I can’t forget how she keened and cried out my name when I brought her to orgasm. How she begged me to finish what I’d started.
I’m going to trust my gut for once.
By the end of tonight, I will have told her all the things I’ve held in for the past three years.
Not just how much she turns me on, but how much I’ve valued her friendship, her help.
Gods, I can even tell her now that she’s cured me of vaping.
I can’t believe she hasn’t noticed that I’m relaxed and chatting without that thing rammed between my fingers.
Yeah, I’ve no desire to vape. But that has nothing to do with green smoothies and hideous tasting potions.
It’s pure essence of Tippy.
My doubts pushed away, I focus on enjoying being with Arlo and Sammy. “So, how are things going here for you guys? Are the Trojans looking after you?”
“Like family. We’ve even got our own Trojan guards.”
I raise a brow. “You have guards? Like, personal guards?”
“Yes, they’re just over there.” Arlo points to two huge guys at a neighboring table.
“Fuck! Really?”
“The authorities would stop at nothing to get hold of our youngling,” Arlo says. “And since I’ve stopped working at the clinic, they’ve most likely put two and two together. My cousin’s sperm has only half the enzymes of mine.” He looks a little chuffed—with good cause, I guess.
“When they abducted Clem, we’re pretty sure it was to force her to tell them where Sammy was,” I say.
“Well, they failed,” Sammy responds. “And you were the hero of the day, Jax.”
“Anything to save my sister,” I say gruffly. “Truth is, I had no idea I was going to shift when I faced those guards. It just happened out of the blue.”
I glance at Tippy'; she’s pushing her fork around her plate. “Some of us had no idea you were even a wolf,” she mutters, just loud enough for us to hear. She turns to Arlo. “Did you know, before Jax shifted, that he was wolfen?”
“No. Maybe I wondered at times.” He grins. “I mean, look at him, he’s pretty feral.”
We laugh. Tippy doesn’t join in.
“Well, I did not have a clue,” Sammy says. “Neither did Clem. Full marks to you Jax, for keeping it quiet. It must have been burning you up inside, carrying that knowledge.” She reaches out and touches my hand with a smile, and I can’t help feeling vindicated.
“Thanks, Blondie,” I say softly. I sense Tippy softening a smidge. She glances at me, fleetingly. I hope she’ll take the message on board, coming from another woman.
Arlo peers closely at me across the table. “There’s something different about you.”
“Yeah, well, being wolf has changed my appearance. Kind of bulked me out a bit,” I finish proudly.
“Nah, it’s something else.” Then he grins. “You haven’t vaped once. Something Tippy’s doing must be working.”
I give Tippy a pointed look, willing her eyes to meet mine. She finally raises her head and our gazes lock. I gift her my lopsided grin.
“It sure is,” I say softly, and have the gratification of seeing her cheeks turn almost the same shade of red as her hair.