Page 52 of Banished From the Pack

“You know… Stuff to make me act civilized in town.”

“That’s good,” he says. “Learning how to co-mingle in society can’t hurt.”

“Uh-huh,” I say.

“You’re burning the meat,” Warrick says.

I spin back around. “Shit!”

They’re all laughing now, and I’m fuming mad but also grateful that things aren’t as tense as they were this morning. But by the time I’m done cooking, the air over the table is silent and brittle as a sun-bleached bird’s nest, a delicate twig that will snap at any moment. Ethan keeps his head down and doesn’t talk or joke around like usual or bicker with Callan. Warrick is silent and frowning, but he doesn’t press us down with what Callan explained is his wolf’s dominance. He doesn’t have to dominate us tonight. We are all subdued already.

I don’t want to sit on the porch alone again tonight, hoping one of them will join me, so I go to the bedroom across from Warrick’s. I sit on the bed, all my good feelings from earlier gone. This isn’t my room. It’s Ethan and Callan’s room, and because of me, they’re both sleeping on the floor in the other room. Only Warrick and I have rooms. If I was gone, they could have their bed back, and they wouldn’t be mad at each other every day.

I’m the cause of this mess. I don’t know how they know, but I’m sure they do. They know what Ethan did to me, and they don’t like it. Maybe they don’t want me to feel good or have some fun, as Warrick said, after all. Just like Axel, they say this is my home and that they’ll protect me, but in the end, if I don’t do it the way they want, then they don’t want me around.

I turn off the light and try to sleep. The full moon is just rising, and my wolf is restless inside me, wanting to run and hunt. I toss and turn, sweating in the sultry night. Even when I strip off my clothes and throw off the sheet, it’s too hot, and I can’t make my thoughts be quiet and go to sleep so that my body can follow. The moon rises up my window until I can barely see it, and I’m halfway asleep when the yelling starts.

“What the fuck, Ethan?” Callan roars, dragging me from my frustrating attempt at sleep.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ethan yells back. “Get off me!”

I hold my breath, tensed and listening.

“You fucked her, didn’t you?” Callan yells. “You fucking asshole, you can’t keep your dick in your pants for two fucking weeks?”

“I didn’t fuck her,” Ethan hollers back. “Want to check my dick?”

There’s a thud, and I jump up and tiptoe to the door to listen.

“She came,” Callan growls. “I can smell it on her.”

Scuffling noises follow. “Maybe she pleasured herself,” Ethan says, sounding out of breath and strained. “Chicks do that, you know.”

Callan sounds more pissed. “We had a deal, brother, or does a pact between brothers mean nothing to you when there’s pussy involved?”

“You broke it first!” Ethan yells back.

I look down, sliding a hand between my legs to feel the smooth skin Ethan touched earlier. “This is your fault, then,” I whisper.

As I suspected, their fight is about me. Tears prick the corners of my eyes. I never wanted to make anyone angry or upset. I thought I could be one of them since they were so accepting of me. They never make me use silverware when my hands are better, never bind my soul to theirs and then rip it out with barely a warning. They’re good to me, and I want to be good to them. Bringing anger and fights to their house is not being good to them.

Warrick chimes in at last. “Cut this shit out,” he growls, and the other two fall silent. “This is just what I didn’t want to fucking happen, but you two dicks-for-brains swore there’d be no conflict. Now look at the pair of you, sneaking around trying to get it any way it comes. That little whisp of ass couldn’t withstand one good pounding from any of us.”

I can feel the shame all the way from here, the way Warrick’s wolf dominance makes me hang my head the same as his brothers.

He sighs. “You can’t live under the same roof with a woman like that and expect anything else.”

A woman like me. What does that mean? I don’t even know what kind of woman I am, so how can he know?

“This stops right now,” Warrick growls when no one answers him. “We’re brothers. We walk to the depths of hell to protect each other. Nothing and no one comes between us. Have I made myself clear?”

Silence so fragile it could shatter shrouds the front room.

Once again, it’s come down to this—it’s my presence that stirs conflict. I know what I have to do. Tears track down my cheeks as I pad to the back door on silent, bare feet. I can hear Ethan accusing Callan of “doing it first” again as I ease open the screen door and slip outside. I don’t let the screen door thwack shut. I guide it closed, so it doesn’t make a sound.

Outside, I take a shaky breath and sink to the ground, ignoring the mosquitoes that swarm in for a taste of my blood. It’s been a month since I shifted, a month that I’ve been here. A month to learn human manners and grow to love these big, stubborn, strong, grumpy men. But now it’s time to leave them.

I shift into my wolf form, relieved that the pain in my chest dulls when I’m a wolf. Wolves love, but they don’t feel the other complicated emotions humans do. Things are simpler this way. The moon guides me as I shift and run. I race for the creek that splits the property and wade into the knee-deep water. Then, I head downstream so they won’t be able to track my scent. When I’ve gone far enough, I scramble onto the opposite bank and run.