Jace (River Pack Wolves 2)(2)

That shit had to stop.

Jace would just have to keep things under control while they figured out their next move.

He glanced at the clock. 3 am. Too early to get up, but there wouldn’t be any more sleep for him for the rest of the night anyway. Not that he wanted to—slipping back into the nightmare was all too easy once his dream wolf had already been unleashed.

Jace stretched the aches of his muscles, still cramped from fighting the shift, and swung his legs out of bed. His sleep pants had avoided the shredding, and the warm summer air meant he’d forgone a t-shirt, but the bed was a mess. He sighed and tossed the comforter over the torn bedding. He’d have to fix that later. For now, he needed some chow. Something to eat would wake him up, reset the clock, and hopefully get him through another day.

Until he had to face the night again.

The estate was huge—two dozen bedrooms, a massive front room and dining area, enormous kitchen. And that was just in the main house. Out the back, nestled against the Washington mountainside with the stables, there were even more cabins… one with his brother Jaxson no doubt having the time of his life with his new mate, Olivia. She’d come into their lives like a whirlwind, but somehow she’d figured out his brother’s secret and set him free from it… all without Jace knowing until it was all over. Jaxson had always been there for him, ever since he’d been discharged from the Army, but he’d completely failed to be there in return. Jace hadn’t even known something was wrong, too busy dealing with his own problems or chasing after bad guys to try to forget them. He should have known Jaxson was carrying a darkness around inside him. Just another thing Jace’s wolf managed to fuck up in his life.

Jace quietly unlocked his bedroom door and crept down the stairs, keeping his footfalls silent as he worked his way toward the kitchen. He didn’t need his problems to wake up everyone else. His mom had been taking in wayward shifters for a while, ever since their dad died, and there was always someone staying at the safehouse who wasn’t actually a member of the River family. Right now, the place was full-up, with most of the River brothers’ pack doubling up in the rooms and filling every available bed. They even had a few from the Wilding pack staying with them, not to mention the shifter prisoners they had just broken free from Agent Smith’s torturous grasp.

Even with a full house, the place was silent, except for the occasional creak of the log construction, the squeak of the stairs as he descended, and the whisper of the pines outside. He’d always loved that sound as a kid—felt like the wind was calling to his wolf and saying you are home. Now it just reminded him of how messed up he really was.

Jace pulled open the massive fridge—his mom was used to feeding the hungry shifter hordes that passed through, so it was well-stocked. He snagged some sandwich makings. The ghostly white light blasted through the expansive kitchen, then shut off as the door swung shut. He blinked as his eyes adjusted, and the house creaked again. Only…

Jace froze. He grew up here. He knew the house sounds. That was someone on the stairs he just came down. He casually shuffled to the kitchen island and set down the meats and condiments. He held still for a moment, listening. Drawing in a breath. Scenting.

Light floral scent. No one he’d scented before.

With light bare-footed steps, Jace dashed back through the open kitchen door, skirted the dining table, and rounded the corner to the great room. Halfway up the stairs was a figure in a black hoodie. Jace knew this house like his own face—he didn’t need to look to avoid the end tables and floor lamps. He reached the stairs before the intruder could even turn around.

Jace grabbed the hoodie first, yanking it back to get a chokehold, then wrapped his arm around the neck. He pivoted, trying to wrestle the guy down, but his mom must have been polishing the stairs again because his feet went out from under him. They both tumbled the five steps to the landing below. Jace kept his grip, but this must be a kid or something—the hooded figure was lightweight and skinny. No heft to him at all.

Then he shifted in Jace’s arms, sliding out of his grip and leaving nothing but clothes behind. Jace shoved aside the hoodie and jeans and scrambled after the wolf, who was making time through the great room. Jace knew there was only one way out—through the back kitchen door. He dashed down the side hall, surged through the kitchen side door, and tackled the wolf before it could make it to the back. Which was great for stopping the intruder from escaping, but now he had to keep hold of a wolf three times stronger than Jace’s human form—with razor sharp claws and snapping jaws trying to catch his face. He wrestled it to the floor, holding it from behind. Its claws scrabbled against the low cabinets and pushed them back along the floor. Jace’s head banged against the kitchen door in his struggle to keep hold, and the wolf’s strength was almost too much for him. His brain caught up to what was happening, and he realized—this wolf was being strangely quiet throughout all this. Was this some kind of prank by one of the stray shifter kids his mom had taken in?