Brothersong (Green Creek #4) - T.J. Klune Page 0,106

he’s still a wolf. Which means he has limitations. He’ll feel the call of the moon. And he’s an Alpha, which means he’ll want to find his pack. It’ll be a singular focus, especially if he sees this territory as his. He may draw others to him, stragglers who don’t have a pack or Omegas we couldn’t find, but he’ll learn quickly how limited those numbers are. Things have changed in your absence, Carter. While you were looking for Gavin, we were looking for you, and still preparing for the endgame.” He looked grim. “Because that’s what this is. It’ll either be him or us. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let it be him. Green Creek isn’t as it once was. We’re ready.”

“And all that’s left is for me to….” I couldn’t finish.

He moved until he stood before me, and he was all I could see. He filled my entire world as he cupped my face, eyes filling with fire. “Yes,” he said. “But not yet. I want you to heal. To know you’re home, and to see if your heart belongs to someone who needs it more than you know.”

My eyes burned as I reached up and gripped his wrists. “No pressure, right?”

He smiled. “You have a choice, Carter. And even if you don’t choose him, he’ll know that he still matters to you because you won’t let him forget it. And maybe that’ll be enough. I’ll give you as much time as I can, but it can’t go on forever. We need all of us if we can ever hope to take Livingstone out. Think hard on it. This isn’t a decision to be made lightly, and no matter what we’ve told you, it’s up to you. And Gavin.”

“He might not even want this,” I muttered. “He’s said so often enough.”

“We often say things when we’re scared,” Ox said, brushing his thumbs against my cheeks. “Things we might not mean. It’s what makes us human.”

I said, “Ox, I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to be good enough.”

And he said, “You already are, Carter. Can’t you see? I have faith in you. I love you, and I know he will too. How could he not? Look at you. You are my strength. And I know you can be his too. But you don’t have to carry this alone. We’ll help you. All of us.”

He hugged me then, hugged me as I fell apart. And in an office that still smelled like my father, I breathed my Alpha in.

HE WAS IN MY MOTHER’S STUDIO.

She was painting, bright strokes of green and blue. She had paint on her cheek, and her eyes glittered as she slashed the canvas.

Gavin watched my mother move. It was like she was dancing.

She said, “Today, today, today. Today feels green. There’s still some blue, but that’s life, I think. Sometimes it can be a forest. Other times it’s an ocean. But we float, don’t we? Along the surface. I always thought so, even when I was drowning. There’s a song I like. An old one.” And remarkably, she started singing. “Sometimes I float along the river, for to its surface I am bound. And there are times stones done fill my pockets, oh Lord, and it’s into this river I drown.”

He was entranced by her, swaying side to side in time with the song. His tail was curled around his legs, and his eyes were violet.

He didn’t startle when I put my hand on his back.

He looked over at me.

I looked back.

I didn’t speak.

He leaned forward, pressing his nose against my chest.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

good name/opposable thumbs

He stayed as a wolf.

I didn’t fight it, didn’t try to tell him to shift back.

He followed me as I walked down the dirt road. It was cold, but the sky was blue. The moon was growing fatter, and I could feel it pulling at me. It was different here, in this place. When I was on the secret highways, it always felt wrong somehow. I’d sung for all the world to hear, but I’d been alone. No one sang back to me, no matter how hard I wished it so. It’d felt like grief.

The gravel crunched under my feet as I let my fingers trail along the trunks of trees on the side of the road.

“There’s a history here,” I told him. He was walking next to me, pressed up against my side. I didn’t push him away.