Brothersong (Green Creek #4) - T.J. Klune Page 0,91

over and grabbed my hand again and pulled it into his lap.

I said, “Thump, thump, thump.”

He nodded. “Loud. Always loud.” Then, “Ox. Oxnard.”

“What about him?”

“Said I was still Omega.”

“Yeah. I guess you are.”

“Said I didn’t have to be. That I needed to trust him. He would be my Alpha. Joe too.”

I needed to tread carefully. “They were once. Weren’t they?”

“I don’t know.” He looked down at our hands. “Maybe.”

“He won’t hurt you. Neither will Joe. They want you here almost as much as I do.”

He looked at me. Kelly had given him a piece of leather cut from his pack. Gavin had used it to pull his hair back off his face, tying it off. It looked good on him, even if his brow was furrowed. “You’re different.”

“How?”

He shook his head. “Just… more. Different. Stronger? I think. Not like you were before.” He flashed his violet eyes at me. “You were like me. Animal. Wolf. And in the cabin, the same.”

It hit me then. “You didn’t know me as a Beta. I was always an Omega, ever since you came to Green Creek.”

He looked away. “Not like me. Not anymore.”

I squeezed his hand. “Is that bad?”

“I don’t know. Just here. By myself.”

“You’re not,” Kelly said, and Gavin jerked his head up. Kelly glanced at him before looking out at the road before us. “It doesn’t matter if you’re an Omega or a Beta. You don’t have to do this alone, Gavin. You saw what happened when you left. Carter found you. Remember that, okay? And this isn’t just about Carter. We were all looking for you.”

“Looking for my father,” Gavin bit out.

“That too,” Kelly allowed. “But if we could find him, we could find you. And not just because of what you are to my brother.”

“What am I?” he asked, and it was a challenge.

“Yeah,” Kelly said dryly. “I’m not even going to touch that. You two can figure that out on your own. I think.”

I opened my mouth to snap at him, but the words died on the tip of my tongue.

I barely noticed the blue house passing us by on the left.

Because there, standing on the porch at the house at the end of the lane, was the rest of my pack.

Robbie was bouncing on his feet, his glasses crooked on his face.

My uncle Mark was smiling a secret smile, the raven on his neck looking as if its wings were fluttering. Gordo had told me they’d thought about trying to remove Mark’s raven like they’d done to his own, but Aileen and Patrice hadn’t thought it necessary.

Bambi stood near the door, a bundle in her arms. I watched as she leaned down and pressed a kiss to a small sliver of skin.

Jessie had her arm wrapped around the waist of Dominique, her head lying on her shoulder.

And there, walking slowly down the steps, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, was a queen.

My mother.

Elizabeth Bennett.

Her hair sat in a loose ponytail over one shoulder. Her hand was already at her mouth, and even from this distance, I could see the sheen in her eyes.

“Mom?” I whispered.

She tilted her head back toward the sky, tears falling freely. She was beautiful, this woman, this wonderful woman who had given so much. A sharp lance of guilt pierced my heart because I knew that I’d only added to it. I needed her forgiveness. I needed her to see me. I needed her to tell me I would always be her son, even in the face of what I’d done.

She was all I could see.

Kelly climbed out of the truck.

I pulled my hand away from Gavin.

I stepped out into our territory. It washed over me, and I wanted to howl because this was where I belonged, this was where I was supposed to be.

This was my home. This place. These people.

My mother took a step toward me.

She said, “Carter.”

She said, “Hello.”

She said, “You’re here.”

She said, “I knew you’d come home.”

She said, “I always knew.”

And then she was running.

I caught her as she leapt at me. I stumbled back but somehow managed to stay upright. Her hands were in my hair, and she was sobbing against my chest, and I’d forgotten how much bigger than her I was, the top of her head barely at my chin, and I was struck by the dissonance in her, how fragile she seemed. How breakable, but it was all a lie. She was strong, stronger than anyone else I knew. I didn’t know how she’d done