2. Cooper

Chapter 2

Cooper

" S awyer's in the hospital. He… he needs you." Miles' words echoed in my head, dredging up memories I kept locked up—memories I thought I had outrun.

I remembered that night, even ten years later, clear as day.

Me, at 18, reckless and foolish enough to believe I could challenge the lead alpha of the Pecan Pines pack and avenge my father.

Me, covered in wounds, and Ryder's fangs around my throat.

The only reason he allowed me to live was because some of my former pack mates begged him to spare my life... and I suspected he did so knowing I'd have to live with the humiliation of defeat for the rest of my life.

"Cooper... are you there?" ventured an unfamiliar voice.

Miles, I recalled, pulling myself back to the present. His voice had become deeper.

He was probably all grown up now, but all I could remember was Sawyer's kid brother, tagging along with us when we were kids.

I smiled a little at the memory, but the present rammed its ugly head.

Sawyer was hurt. We weren't blood related, but he was my brother.

Even though I had moved out of Pecan Pines ten years ago, built a new life, and joined another pack, Sawyer and I kept in touch.

Now, my brother needed me, and although heading back to my hometown would definitely stir unpleasant memories, I dreaded the thought of going back.

But I wasn't going to leave Sawyer hanging.

"I'm still here," I told Miles on the phone. "Give me a day. I'll need to let my lead alpha know. Then I'll drive straight there."

I was about to say "straight back home," but Pecan Pines hadn't been home—not for a long time.

Winter Valley and the pack that protected it, the pack I belonged to and was second-in-command of, that was home.

I hung up and took a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions inside me. The cold mountain air of Winter Valley blew through the open window, usually calming, but not today.

I could still feel Ryder's fangs at my throat, hear the jeering of the pack, the shame searing through me.

A knock on the door broke my train of thought. It was Daniel, my current lead alpha.

He took one look at me and immediately seemed to know something was wrong. Daniel furrowed his brows.

"Everything okay, Cooper?" he asked, his familiar voice grounding me.

"Not really," I admitted. "My best friend's in the hospital. I need to go back to Pecan Pines."

Daniel's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure you're ready for that?"

Are you sure you're ready to face your past? Was Daniel's unasked question.

"I don't have a choice," I said. "He's my best friend, and I consider him a brother."

Daniel nodded, his gaze steady. "We'll manage here. Take care of what you need to," he said.

I packed quickly, my mind racing. The drive was going to be long, giving me plenty of time to dwell on everything I had tried to leave behind—the memories, the scars, both physical and emotional.

But none of that mattered now. Sawyer needed me.

I drove through the winding mountain roads, the landscape changing from the snowy peaks of Winter Valley to the dense forests of Pecan Pines.

To be honest, I didn't know what to expect once I got there. It then occurred to me that I should've asked Miles more questions.

What exactly had happened to Sawyer? How bad was he hurt? Who did this to him?

But there had been no time for details. Miles had sounded frantic on the phone, his words rushed and panicked, and my own shock had frozen my thoughts.

Either way, I was here now and intended to get answers. Sawyer could hold his own in a fight, unless… he picked a fight he couldn't win.

The closer I got, the heavier the weight in my chest became. Night had fallen by the time I reached the outskirts of Pecan Pines. The town was eerily quiet, shadows lengthening across familiar streets.

I gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles white. Every corner seemed to hold a ghost of the past, every landmark a reminder of what I had lost and what I had run from.

I parked in front of the hospital, the harsh fluorescent lights stark against the dark night. Miles was waiting for me at the entrance, his face pale and drawn.

Before I could study him closer, my inner wolf snarled in warning. I could feel someone—no, a couple of someones—watching us. Other wolves. Ryder's wolves.

My gaze landed on two wolves seated in a car parked nearby. I didn't recognize either of them. Then again, I had been gone for ten years.

Whenever I spoke with Sawyer on the phone, he avoided discussing the current state of the Pecan Pines pack, knowing my history.

One of them, a beefy guy with yellowing teeth, flashed his fangs at me in warning. My wolf instinctively wanted to lash back.

I silently sized up the other wolf and knew he would be no match for me.

I hadn't spent the last ten years idle, and I hadn't become Daniel's second-in-command from pure luck alone—I clawed my way to the top.

In a way, I worked hard because some part of me wanted to prove to that foolish 18-year-old I'd been that I had grown and matured. So, I tore my gaze from Ryder's wolves and focused on Miles.

Was this gorgeous guy really Miles? As I neared him, his scent wrapped around me like a glove.

My wolf soon shrugged off his initial anger, and I felt something else—a more potent emotion—desire I'd never experienced before.

"Miles," I said, my voice rougher than I intended.

He looked up, and our eyes met.

"Cooper," he breathed, relief and something more flickering across his features. "I'm so glad you're here."

I stepped closer, feeling an unexplainable pull toward him. His scent enveloped me, stirring a primal urge deep within.

My wolf recognized him as more than just an old friend's brother. There was a connection, an unspoken bond that had been dormant until now.

"I came as soon as I could," I replied, my voice low. "Tell me what happened."

His gaze flickered toward Ryder's wolves, tension evident in his posture.

"Not here," he said quietly. "They're watching us."

I nodded, understanding the need for caution. "Let's get inside," I told him.

As we moved toward the hospital entrance, I couldn't help but steal glances at Miles.

He sure had grown up. My wolf stirred restlessly, and I felt a surge of protectiveness and longing that caught me off guard.

Inside the hospital, the sterile smell of antiseptic did little to calm my racing thoughts.

Miles led me down a dim corridor, the flickering fluorescent lights casting eerie shadows. My senses were on high alert, every instinct attuned to potential danger.

We reached a small waiting room, and Miles closed the door behind us. The moment we were alone, the tension between us became palpable. I could hear his heartbeat, rapid and steady.

"Miles," I began, but he cut me off with a look that sent a jolt of electricity through me.

"Cooper," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was so scared. When Sawyer got hurt, I didn't know what to do."

His vulnerability hit me hard, and I closed the distance between us in two strides.

"It's all right," I said softly. "I'm here now. We'll get through this together."

Get through this together? What sort of promise was I making? I told Daniel I would only be here a few days, a week at the most.

For a moment, we stood there, the air between us charged with unspoken emotions. Then, without warning, Miles reached out and grasped my hand.

The touch sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt my wolf stir, recognizing the significance of this contact.

"Uncle Ben's also in this hospital… and now Sawyer's here, too," he said, sounding a touch panicky.

I couldn't blame him. With Ben and Sawyer down for the count, Miles probably felt alone and vulnerable. Vulnerable and in danger, I thought, not forgetting Ryder's wolves.

"Miles, listen to me," I said, gripping his shoulders and forcing him to meet my gaze.

His eyes were wide with fear, and I didn't like that one bit.

I continued, "We're going to get through this. But I need you to stay calm and focused. Can you do that for me?"

He nodded, but I could see the uncertainty still lingering in his eyes. "I'll try," he whispered, his voice trembling.

"I'm not going anywhere," I reminded him.

He let out an adorable sniff, and I couldn't help myself any longer. In that instant, the tension between us snapped, and I pulled him into my arms.

The embrace was fierce and desperate, and exactly what we both needed at that moment. His body fit against mine perfectly, as if we were two halves of a whole.

"Miles," I murmured, burying my face in his hair, inhaling his scent deeply.

It was intoxicating, filling me with a heady mix of desire and protectiveness. I could feel the warmth of his body against mine, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

His scent, a unique blend of wolf musk and something sweet, filled my senses, making it hard to think clearly. Back off now, I reminded myself.

For one, this was Sawyer's kid brother, and two, this was inappropriate.

It felt like I was taking advantage of him, and yet I couldn't seem to part from the embrace. My mind was a whirl of conflicting emotions.

On one hand, I knew I needed to be the strong, reliable presence he could lean on in this time of crisis. On the other, every fiber of my being was drawn to him in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to loosen my grip slightly. He looked up at me.

"Cooper… I don't know what I'd do without you. Thank you for coming," Miles said.

Then Miles did the unexpected. He leaned in, his eyes softening as he moved closer.

I could see the gratitude and affection in his gaze, and I knew he was about to kiss my cheek. But something in me shifted, a deep, primal urge that I couldn't ignore.

As his lips neared my cheek, I purposely turned my head at the last second so he'd kiss my mouth instead.

The contact was electric, a spark that ignited a fire within me. For a split second, I wondered if I'd made a mistake, if I'd pushed too far. But then I felt his response, the way his lips softened against mine, hesitant but willing.

He probably did that to thank me, I rationalized. But at that moment, I got greedy and decided I wanted to taste his mouth.

Reluctantly, I pulled away, the warmth of Miles's body lingering on my skin.

The intensity of the moment left me at a loss for words, and I could see the same bewilderment reflected in his eyes.

"Um, that was…" I trailed off, searching for the right words to explain what had just happened between us.

Miles blinked, his cheeks flushed, and took a step back to put some distance between us. He cleared his throat.

"Let's go see Sawyer," he said, his voice steadier than I expected.

I nodded, grateful for the distraction. "Good idea," I replied, trying to regain my composure.

My mind was still reeling from the kiss, the way it had felt so right. I couldn't afford to let my emotions cloud my judgment, not when Sawyer needed us.

I stole another glance at Miles, trying to gauge his feelings, but his expression was unreadable. He kept his gaze forward, and I reminded myself once more that I was here for Sawyer.

Miles led me to a room at the end of a long corridor. When we reached the door, he paused, turning to me with a haunted look.

"He's not in good shape," he said. "But he's been asking for you a lot."

I nodded, pushing the door open. Sawyer lay on the hospital bed, pale and injured, an IV drip attached to his arm.

Machines beeped softly, monitoring his vital signs. He looked so vulnerable, and the sight hit me like a punch to the gut.

"Sawyer," I whispered, stepping closer. His eyes fluttered open, a weak smile forming on his lips.

"Coop… you came," he rasped.

"I'm here, brother," I said, taking his hand. "I'm here."