River Wolf(91)

“You will have to humble the wolf much as you would a recalcitrant youth who does not want to obey or sees no need to obey.”

Salvatore’s advice echoed in the back of his head. He folded his arms and waited. In a pack, all members disciplined the young. It was how they protected themselves and their future. Offspring knew it wouldn’t just be having their parents told on them, they could face punishment from any who witnessed their transgressions.

Colby’s wolf tried to bolt in another direction, but Owen sent her back. One more try, and a Hunter bracketed her and sent her away with a snarl. Frustration rolled off her as she charged toward Brett, but he didn’t bend no matter how much he wanted to hold and stroke her. Reassurance would come, he promised himself. He would get to take care of her.

But first…

Still fighting to hold his gaze, she finally sank to her belly and panted. The frenetic respiration as much a sign of her distress as the snapping.

“Come here,” he ordered her. The longing to go to her flooded his wolf, but even the animal understood the need. Too confined for too long, too cut off from anything resembling pack, and Colby’s wolf was feral. She had to be humbled enough to trust them, to trust their wolves… “Come, now.”

On the last word, she whined a complaint but edged forward on her belly. Trent started forward again, but Brett cut him off with a wave of his hand. The young healer wanted to help. So did Brett. They were helping. Closer his pack edged, maintaining a circle. She had nowhere else to go.

Rising, she padded forward back low and tail down. Two steps in front of him she whined again, and inched downward. The moment she began to roll, Brett fell to his knees and pulled the tense wolf to him.

“I have you,” he told her. “I claim you.” The last piece of the puzzle slammed into place as he pulled her into his pack. She could curse him later for making the choice, but her wolf needed them and Luc had been right…

…Brett needed her.

Throwing his head back, he howled and his wolves joined him in the song welcoming a new, trembling cry amongst theirs. Colby shuddered, and her wolf burrowed against him. No matter what happened, he was never letting her go.

Mine.





Chapter Sixteen





She was a dog. Years seemed to have gone by since her body caught fire, tore itself apart, then reassembled as the Shaggy D.A. Laying on the shady stone because it was cooler than the sun splashed grass, she kept her back to Brett and Luc, patently ignoring their conversation. The two men had ruined her life.

No, correction. She’d ruined her life for the two men. Irritation razored through her system and she flicked her ears at the stupid bug buzzing her head. How many evenings had she sat on the porch with Brett and not once had the insects bothered her? Become a dog—oh God, what if she got fleas? Did wolves get fleas? Did they have something they did to prevent them? If she got fleas, would she have them as a human?

If she could ever turned human again. Some rational part of her mind scoffed at the litany. Then again, the rest of her stuck her tongue out at the rational part of her mind. What could possibly be normal or rational about being a dog?

Wolf.

Setting her chin on her paws, she sighed.

“Any change at all?” Luc’s voice drifted over her. Even with the buzzing of the insects, she caught every word of their conversation.

“No, and she won’t have anything to do with any of us. Not even Gillian.” Foreign emotion tinged Brett’s voice. The hollow sound held her attention and her heart ached. “Trent wants to see her, but considering she snaps at any other wolf who approaches, I think it’s better if we wait.”

Hmmph. She wouldn’t snap at the child. It was hardly his problem if she’d turned into a dog and Gillian drove her nuts. She was a wonderful, sweet, and kind person. Everything about her seemed the perfect combination to love, but it was the same protective instinct that made her want the woman to go away. Her foul temper was no place for her to be.

“He’s a kid.” Luc’s words elongated as though he stretched, and pain seemed to darken the last syllable.

“You should probably be resting.”

“Dude, you send me back to that fucking bed rest and I will challenge you just for fucking kicks.” Odd how much affection wound through those words.

“Really?” So very dry with hints of the real Brett. Another sigh escaped her. She didn’t want him to sound hollow. “You let me know how that works out for you.”

“You’re not going to kill me.” Luc chuckled. “You like me too much.”

“My wisdom and decision making seem to be under question these days.” By whom? Outrage poured into her. Who made him doubt himself?