***
Devin stared into his coffee. There wasn’t anything particularly interesting in the cup, but it seemed as good a place as any to contemplate life decisions.
With his leg still a mess and not likely to get better unless he could somehow miraculously shift, he needed to come up with a profession. Some of his men who had been in captivity with him had actually returned to war. They were clearly stronger than he when it came to recovery.
“What are you thinking about?” His father’s sullen voice pulled him out of his musings.
When they’d been boys—Robby, Auggie, Dougal, and himself—their father had exuded laughter. The man had woken up and gone to bed with a smile on his face every day. This sullen person who life had battered was almost unrecognizable.
“I’m trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life.” And I’m trying not to think about Lena and all the ways I fucked that up. Devin extended his hand to indicate the chair next to him. “Care to join me?”
His father took a seat. People always said that Devin resembled him, but when he looked at his dad, all he could see was Robby. Their oldest brother had taken after him almost completely. They had the same shade of brown hair, the same blue eyes, and the same physical stature. Devin blinked. Well, they had at one time shared all of those qualities. His parents had buried Robby while Devin had been strung up in a Dragon prison. Or at least they’d had a memorial. No body had come home to be buried.
He missed them, all three of his brothers. Tears threatened to spill over, and he cleared his throat while he pushed away the feeling. Gods, he could use a run in his Wolf body. Why wouldn’t it come back?
“What were you thinking you could do?” His father leaned back with a guarded expression.
“See the problem, Dad, is that I’m not really good for anything. I’m not a Wolf anymore.”
His father shook his head. “That happens. It’ll come back.”
“Maybe not.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “No one can really tell me one way or the other.”
“You can’t accept that like it’s even a possibility.”
Yes, that was how he’d been raised. You never gave up or gave in. When the cards didn’t go your way, you played the next hand until you won. That was what had made his father so successful in business. He had never wanted any of them to go to war. But that had been the lot of their time. Fight the Dragons or let the monsters kill their packs and destroy their lands.
“I’m not hoping it’ll stay like this, Dad. I’m just being realistic.”
His father cursed. “What, then, are you thinking you can do for a living if you can’t shift?”
It seemed like a funny question. Most professions didn’t actually require any shifting abilities. His father, for example, hadn’t needed to be in his Wolf form to conduct business. Devin had certainly been aware of his Wolf around when he battled the Dragons—even when he hadn’t been in his Wolf form. But successful Wolves insisted they could feel their Wolves inside of them—helping them, making things easier.
Devin had never known any humans, but he was going to have to pretend he was one if this was going to work. “I’ve been fixing up the Knox house for the last few weeks. I’m really good at it. Maybe I could make a living doing that. I could become some kind of contractor.”
“You’d be a good one.” His father nodded. “But the problem is that there aren’t too many Wolves around that could afford to pay you.” His father suddenly looked like the years had caught up with him all at once. “Look around. More houses than not are falling down around themselves. Nine out of ten banks have had to close, and the very few that are left won’t give loans except to the most exclusive of families. I’m not even sure I could get a loan if I needed one at this point.”
“Really?”
His dad nodded. “Yep.”
“Well, that blows that right out of the water.”
His father stared out the window into the setting sun. “Maybe you could build something for the war effort.”
“That might be an idea.” He could speak to his old pack leader. “That’s a good idea, Dad.”
“Well, that’s why they used to call me the idea man.”
Devin grinned. Even though the moments were filled with so many things they couldn’t talk about, a comforting rightness filled him that he could just be with his father. “What do you suppose Mom is making for dinner?”
“I have no idea. She’s still out, so I imagine we might be getting takeout of some kind.”