Chapter Nine
JESSE
My mother steps in front of me, unyielding, blocking my path.
Anger, hurt, and a desperate, aching need collide inside me, a storm I can't contain. I try to shove past her, but she plants her feet and stands immovable.
"Don't," she says quietly—but the word barely reaches me through the roar in my ears.
My wolf claws at the inside of my chest, furious and wild. The world narrows to one word, one heartbeat.
Mate.
She's hurting. My mate is in pain.
Every instinct inside me screams to go to her—to protect, to claim, to make it right.
I can't hold it in anymore. The beast surges forward.
The change rips through me—bones splintering and reforming, skin tearing and reforming under a rush of fur. The pain is white-hot and glorious, washing everything human away. My vision sharpens, colors brightening to impossible hues. I drop to all fours, muscles trembling with power and rage.
A snarl tears from my throat as I face my mother. She doesn't flinch, even as the growl vibrates the walls around us.
She's the only one who would dare stand between me and my mate.
But the wolf doesn't care. The wolf only knows one truth—my mate needs me.
Standing between an Alpha and his mate is a dangerous place to be.
If it were anyone else I'd shred them. I'm not in my right mind. My mate hurts and I need to fix it and I don't know how to fix it.
"Return!" my mother barks at me. Only my parents can command me like this. Within an instant, I am forced back into my human flesh. I let out a wordless roar of rage.
"Just wait," my mother pleads. "That's all you have to do. Just give her a little time. She's human, and you are trying to force our ways on her. Do you know anything about her background at all?"
I scowl. "No. I asked her about her family and she changed the subject. What does that have to do with anything?"
My mother heaves an exasperated sigh. "I did my background research. She was abandoned as a toddler and never adopted. She moved from foster home to foster home. Someone like that doesn't believe that anyone can love her."
The thought of her feeling unloved makes me ache to my very core.
"But I do love her!" I protest angrily. The willpower it's taking not to shove past my mother and run to Lane is making my body shake.
My mother shakes her head reprovingly. "Before yesterday, you didn't even believe in fated mates, and you're a shifter.
Why are you expecting a human to instantly understand our ways – especially one who's had a lifetime of trauma?
She returns your feelings. She just needs a little more time.
If you back off and give her the day to herself, it will help more than you can possibly imagine. "
"I can't," I groan in anguish. I've never felt a need like this before.
My mother gives me a gaze that's hardened with steel.
"You are the strongest wolf I know. You can.
Do it for her. I will go and talk to her, I will reassure her, and I will explain that my son is a hot-headed, stubborn fool who is very much in love with her and who will give her as much time as she needs.
You're not going anywhere. Neither is she. "
I can't argue with her logic, or with my raging wolf. All I can do is throw back my head and let out a howl of frustration.
Then I shift again. It tears through me in a rush of heat and light—muscle and bone twisting, reshaping, surrendering to something older and wilder than thought.
My spine arches, tendons snapping taut before realigning; my skin ripples as fur bursts forth, coarse and silvered, catching the morning light.
Fingers curl and fuse into claws that dig deep grooves into the gravel walkway.
The air fills with the sharp scent of pine and sweat and the faint metallic tang of my own fury. My vision sharpens, colors fracturing into vibrant, impossible hues. Every sound—the whisper of my mother's breath, the distant rustle of wind outside—rings crystal clear in my ears.
I turn and run, tearing down the walkway. I keep running until I am deep in the forest. I hear a howl coming up from behind me. My brother Cole, running towards me. Our bond is deep, and he feels my pain and was called by it.
He shifts into human form, so I follow suit.
"How can I help?" he demands.
"You can't," I snarl. "So back the hell off. Get away from me."
He snorts at me, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Let me rephrase that. How can I help you stop being a whiny little bitch?"
Oh, this is not the time. "Watch yourself!" I shove him violently, trying to move past him.
"That all you got?" he taunts. "Whiny little cry-cub…cry-cub, cry-cub…"
That does it.
A growl tears from my throat, low and primal, vibrating through the clearing. My vision narrows until all I see is Cole's smirking face. The air between us crackles with challenge—every instinct in me roaring to life.
Bones snap, muscles twist, and the world explodes into motion.
My body convulses as the shift takes me—my spine lengthening, my hands curling into claws, fur ripping free from my skin in a rush of heat and pain and release.
My jaw elongates, my teeth sharpen, and I drop to all fours with a thud that shakes the earth.
Cole's laughter cuts short as his own body ripples and breaks apart, reforming into the massive dark-gray wolf that has been my rival and brother since birth. For a split second, we stare each other down—two alphas, eyes blazing, breathing hard.
Then we collide.
It's a blur of fur and teeth and fury. We crash together, snarling, claws raking through fur, the metallic scent of blood sharp in the cold air.
I slam into him, pinning him to the ground; he twists, using his greater weight to throw me off, and I roll, coming up snapping at his flank.
Every impact reverberates through my bones, every bite a mix of pain and release.
He tears into my shoulder, and I feel the hot sting of blood. I retaliate with a hard swipe to his muzzle, drawing a growl that shakes the leaves from the trees. It's brutal, savage—and exactly what I need.
Finally, we break apart, chests heaving, steam rising from our bodies in the cool morning air. We circle each other for a moment, both of us trembling with exhaustion, then collapse side by side on the forest floor.
Our breaths come rough and ragged. Slowly, the sharp scent of blood gives way to the clean smell of pine and earth. Wounds knit together, torn skin sealing, muscle reweaving—our super-healing kicking in, as it always does.
For a long time, neither of us speaks. We just lie there in the stillness, two battered wolves beneath the canopy, hearts pounding in sync.
Then Cole huffs a laugh through his nose, the sound low and smug.
"Feel better, cry-cub?"
I bare my teeth in silent warning. But deep down, I do feel better.
And for the first time since Lane ran from me, I can almost breathe again.
The air warms as the sun climbs higher in the sky. Long minutes drift by as our wounds seal themselves shut, leaving behind scars that will vanish by the end of the day. Only silver leaves permanent scars on an Alpha.
In the distance, I hear the wail of a siren. Then another. Then another.
Shifters have very sensitive hearing, and I know the sound of our local emergency services companies.
Cole and I both sit up and look at each other, eyes narrowing, senses sharpening in alert. These sirens aren't from the Cedar Run EMS or the Cedar Run Sheriff's Department. And they are now getting closer, entering pack territory.
Who is bearing down on our pack, and why?