Taken In by the Pack: Second Chances (10 page)

My vision went slowly black from the edges in, and those eyes were the last thing I saw, before the blackness swallowed them up as well.

Chapter Seven

I returned to consciousness slowly. My mind, probably in an attempt to protect myself, did not immediately recall what had happened, or even where I was. Whatever I was laying on was hard and lumpy, and my head was at an awkward angle. But there was a solid, warm, soft presence pressed up against me. I nestled into the warmth, until something tickled my nose, nearly making me sneeze.

As if the jarring from the aborted explosion dislodged a physical block in my mind, details came flooding back.

My eyes flew open, and I realized that the soft warmth pressed up against me was the honey-cream wolf that had taken Bryson’s place. A corner of my mind whispered that it
was
Bryson, but most of me was not ready to process that yet.

I was on the ground; no wonder it felt hard and lumpy. The grass was thick here, but it still didn’t make much of a mattress. Someone had thoughtfully made a sort of pillow out of a folded jacket for me, but it wasn’t much, and apparently I’d been out long enough that I was getting a crick in my neck.

For a long moment, I just lay there, my face still mostly hidden in the thick wolf fur, too confused and frightened to move. Apparently trying to pretend I was still out did not fool the huge animal next to me, however; his head curled around, and he began to lick my face gently. Although I had been around plenty of dogs in my life and knew full well it was an affectionate gesture, that crazed, panicky corner of my mind was absolutely certain it was a prelude to the wolf eating me.

My breath quickened, and I started to try to scramble away from the creature, but I was too disoriented to accomplish much. I think I hurt myself — and probably the wolf, too — more than I managed to actually move.

I looked around wildly, and I could already feel myself starting to hyperventilate again. The group —
the pack
, I reminded myself — was still roughly circled around the two of us, but more relaxed now, or had been until I started to panic again. A few were sitting, several were clumped together talking in very hushed tones. From the more casual attitude and the way they were more spread out now, I got the impression that while they were still attentive, they wouldn’t stop me from leaving now if I tried.

Oddly, or perhaps not so oddly, that served to calm me down somewhat. There’s nothing quite like being told you can’t do something, particularly something like leave a place, to make you
desperately
want to do just that.

It didn’t calm me down very much, though. Enough that I was able to actually get myself away from the wolf I was irrationally sure was going to devour me. As the space between it and me increased, the wolf sat up slowly, ears pricked forward, and head tilted to the side slightly, seeming curious to see what I would do next.

In a move I doubt would shock anyone, I began to cry, yammering quickly, much of it fragmented and not making sense even to me.

“What— No, how— Impossible! Crazy—” Words started and aborted as thoughts flitted through my head like swarming insects, cutting off each question before it even finished let alone received an answer.

Several of the gathered people looked worried, and a few even started to move towards me, but then stopped. The large wolf, however, flattened his ears down and whined softly, a regretful keening sound, before the air began to quiver like clear jello around him again. I looked away, quite certain I could not hold down my dinner if I watched the process of transformation again.

❖ ❖ ❖

“Adalyn?” It was Bryson’s voice once more a few moments later, raspy from strain, worry and pain. That tone tugged at the strings of my heart in unexpected ways, and I turned my eyes back to where the wolf had been.

Only to immediately avert them again. He was
naked
. I suppose it shouldn’t have shocked me, his jeans were right there on the ground in plain sight, if I hadn’t been too oblivious to notice such details.

But… but he’s naked!

It was the first time I’d seen a real live adult male —not photos or on TV — fully unclothed, and ‘uncomfortable circumstances’ was a laughable understatement, given both the audience and the setting. Stranger still was the fact that no one
else
seemed to find it strange.

I guess if this is a regular thing for them, and they’re always naked afterward, they wouldn’t find it strange at all?
It was one of the most coherent thoughts I’d had in what felt like hours. I stood carefully, teetering a bit, but keeping my gaze adamantly away from Bryson’s direction.

Even with my eyes completely turned from him, however, I could still sense him move up slowly behind me. ‘Bryson is naked’ and ‘Bryson is coming up behind me’ did not connect as related thoughts in my addled mind.

He reached out to me, and tentatively, gently slid his arms around me, clearly trying to be comforting. It almost worked; the tension began to fade slightly, and his arms tucked me tenderly against his broad chest, wrapping me in strength and warmth.

Against his broad,
naked
chest. Sure, he had been shirtless before, too — I understood that now, the wolf could step out of jeans, but a shirt would have been much more awkward — but all that skin reminded me that the
rest
of him was also now bare.

With a snarl that shocked me, as if it had come from some other throat, I spun on my heel, tearing out of his half-formed embrace, and my hand connected with his face for a second time in a slap that echoed around the quiet moonlit meadow. No, it wasn’t merely quiet, at that point; it was silent, as if even the crickets and other night animals had frozen in place from the sound of that slap. The humans — or whatever they were — were as still as statues, most of their eyes practically bulging from the way they stared.

Except the elderly lady, who was snickering under her breath and trying unsuccessfully to hide it. I decided I kinda liked her, and I suspected that she was having similar thoughts about me.

I glared up at Bryson now that I was facing him, trying to simply ignore his nakedness as everyone else seemed to be doing; no easy feat when the only person you’ve ever really dated is buck-naked in front of you. His pale brown eyes were so full of hurt — not physical pain, I wasn’t that strong, but rather from emotional sting — that I almost softened. I even had the random impulse to apologize, which was ridiculous. I wasn’t even sure what I would apologize
for
, aside from simply trying to make that hurt leave his eyes. Luckily for us both, however, he didn’t try to come closer to me again. I was genuinely unsure how I would have reacted, and I really didn’t want to find out.

❖ ❖ ❖

The tense tableau held for several long moments, everyone just staring at everyone else in uncertainty. Finally, Bryson sighed, his head hanging slightly, shoulders slumping. He looked so defeated, or maybe dejected.

“Ada, I— I’m sorry. Truly. I’m sorry that I hurt you, sorry that what we are has caused you so much heartache in your life without you even knowing it. And while I’m sure it doesn’t sound the least bit appealing right now, you need to know, to understand — you are half wolf. To us, that means, basically, you’re family.”

No few of those gathered around us nodded their agreement, or murmured assent, though I couldn’t make out any words, just generally affirmative sounds.

“It also means that, if you want, you have the right to join the pack.” He motioned around us somewhat vaguely, indicating the ring of spectators.

“If I
want?
It doesn’t sound like what my father
wanted
mattered.” My words were venomous, but the bile wasn’t really directed at him, just a sort of general anger at the situation, at the world in general and its unfairness.

“Yes, if you want,” he affirmed. “Your father was different; he was a full-blooded wolf, he posed a potential danger to us on his own. You are only half-blooded, and if you choose to remain apart from other wolves, you pose us little to no threat, so long as you swear to uphold our secrecy, and abide by your word.”

I watched his face without speaking for some time, mulling over his words, trying to tease meanings and implications out of them.

“And if I didn’t ‘abide by my word’?” I asked, rather petulantly rather than an actual challenge. He frowned, shoulders hunching a bit, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

“We would-” he paused again, as if seeking the right phrasing, “-have to discuss it, as a pack, and decide how to proceed. If anyone actually took you seriously, though, it would probably not end pleasantly for you.” His tone was more apologetic than threatening.

“Yeah, ‘bout what I figured.” I sighed, pouting a little, and started to hang my own head, but remembered what that would put prominently in my gaze again and kept it steadfastly upright.

We were quiet again for several long moments, before I spoke back up. “What does it mean, that I’m “half wolf”, anyway? Am I likely to randomly turn into a dog at some point? Or,” I drew in a breath, cringing, as an awful thought occurred to me, “am I going to turn into some awful Hollywood-style half-beast werewolf thing?” My eyes were so wide with horror at that thought it almost hurt.

He chuckled softly, his arm twitching as if he had started to reach for me again and thought better of it. “No, nothing like that. What it means, is that unlike us, you can choose.”

“Choose? Choose what?” I asked, not wanting to make incorrect assumptions on what was probably a very important point to my health and safety right now.

“You can choose which world you want to live in.”

I arched a brow. “Well aren’t we in a melodramatic mood,” I muttered under my breath. I had assumed only Bryson would hear me, if even him. From the few soft chuckles I picked up on, most of those around us did, if not all of them. I blushed a bit.

“Sorry. It’s basically true, though. You can choose to live in the world you’ve always known, safe and plain and human. Or, you can choose to enter the world of shifters,” there was a little snag in his voice, as if he would have said something more but stopped himself just in time.

“So, basically… the same old life except with a bunch of nosy “family” that turn into wild animals at will?”
Where is all this snark coming from?

He gave a proper laugh at that, his eyes crinkling at the edges. His face lit up with genuine good humor was a lovely sight, handsome as he was, even in the midst of all this insanity.

“Well, that’s one option, certainly, if that’s what you’d prefer. But most likely, if you wish, you can become one of us; you can choose the life of a wolf.”

❖ ❖ ❖

I started to squeak out a protest, or a question, or some combination of the two — I wasn’t even quite sure myself. Bryson spoke right over the aborted sound, however.

“Have you noticed any— well, any changes in yourself, since we started being around each other again?”

“You mean besides being driven into a paranoid insanity by people trying to ‘protect’ me without my knowledge or understanding, and springing bizarro shit on me in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere when any sane person would have run away long before?” My words were stringing together more or less at random, bits of thoughts rather than proper sentences, but I figured he would get the gist of it.

He laughed again, softly. “Yes, besides all that. I mean, I don’t remember you being quite so slap-happy before, for one thing.” He grimaced, rubbing his cheek, as if I had actually managed to inflict any damage. “Other things, too. You seem more confident, as well as more, or maybe stronger, emotions. And way,
way
less timid. The Adalyn I knew in highschool would never have even made it here,” he lifted a hand, motioning around us at the meadow, “let alone stayed long enough for me to explain any of this.”

I thought that over a moment, then slowly nodded. “Yeah, that’s all true I suppose. I’d probably opt for ‘stupid’ rather than ‘less timid’, though. I’ve even been surprised at my own reactions quite a few times lately, especially when- when I’m actually in front of you.” Belatedly, a waved a hand, trying to imply that the ‘you’ was plural, indicating the whole group, but I don’t think anyone was any more fooled by the ‘correction’ than I was.

He nodded in agreement. “Exactly. It’s from being near us. Like calls to like. Being around us intensifies the wolf qualities in your blood.”