10. Mutt

"Where the hell have you been?" Harry, my older, tinier brother asked with his severest expression. It was the one he used when talking about taxes, pack finances, and Godzilla movies, so I knew he was being extra-serious. His scent was calm-soothe-annoyed, but his heartbeat was steady. Which meant, while irritated, I didn't need to start panicking immediately. This was a personal problem.

A personal problem that I had caused—and therefore should listen to.

Harry liked to think he was the boss of me because he was older. He did have a whole three years on me, and at the ripe age of twenty-two was therefore much wiser than I was—at least, according to him. Despite the years he had on me, I was the one who was going to be the alpha of our clan one day, which meant the way he talked to me half the time—now included—was what most would consider inappropriate. Not that he cared, or I did.

It was just how we were.

The day Harry stopped talking to me like I was a naughty, dumb kid would be the day the world ended.

He had flaws, sure. But he had strengths too. Truthfully, Harry was more suited to the role of Pack Alpha than I was. He had that whole "bossy" air about him, despite being reed thin and an omega.

"Out…" I hummed guiltily, doing my best not to accidentally crush the Pop Tart in my hand. Think gentle thoughts, gentle thoughts.

Harry made an annoyed sound, tapping his foot with his hands on his hips. "Out where ?" The fact his eyes were wide betrayed him, however—making it obvious how surprised he actually was. He probably hadn't expected me to reply at all, let alone with a whole-ass word.

Which was fair.

Normally I wouldn't.

Normally I'd shred my clothes—because I hated them—and shift into my wolfskin to avoid conflict just like this. But…for some reason, I didn't. Maybe it was because I'd already made my choice, and I knew in light of that, communication was important.

Harry had always been nosy, but ever since we'd started negotiations with the pack outside Elmwood he'd been kinda…insufferable? Always asking me where I was and why I wasn't home. I felt bad for saying that about him, seeing as he was my brother—and he was technically doing my job, but still. Two things could be true at the same time.

Or was that three?

There was a weird snapping sensation between my fingers and?—

Fuck .

I broke the damn Pop Tart.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Oh well.

Tasted the same way like this, right?

Crumbs fell to the floor, and I eyed the exits, trying to figure out if I could sneak out without Harry catching me first. I caught the pieces before they could fall, huffing in annoyance. Surreptitiously, I edged toward the front door to our small house, broken Pop Tart in hand.

This place wasn't half bad. Reminded me of our childhood home, but smaller, and smellier because we were all adults now. Jules had an unhealthy obsession with Kimchi, and the scent of Theo's lemon bars mixing with it in the air was less than pleasant.

"Out where , Mutt?" Harry repeated.

"Out…?" I tried to come up with something plausible, but couldn't. " Out ." Harry raised a perfectly manicured dark brow, his scent sparking with surprise a second time, though his face never stopped looking annoyed. I offered him the crushed pastry in my hand, at a loss for what else to do. "Pop Tart?"

Distract him.

Escape, escape, escape.

"I don't want a Pop Tart. I want answers." Harry pinched the bridge of his nose like I was the most frustrating person he'd ever talked to—which was fair. He opened his mouth like he was about to speak—probably to say something smart and cutting, or worse—point out the fact I still smelled like sex.

I shoved the pastry in my mouth, cheeks puffed up, eyes wide.

Don't do it, don't do it.

"For example…why exactly do you smell like sex ?" Harry asked. Dammit. "Where have you been going? Why are you acting so sneaky? Who are you sleeping with? Are you okay? Do you like him? You can't like him, Mutt. Fuck. Does Dad know? Does Mom know? Are you using protection? I know you don't need it—but humans expect you to be prepared. Does the human know what you are?" Harry's eyes widened with fear. "Did you tell him? You can't tell him. Oh my god. Do we need to have the talk? I am not prepared to have the talk. I left my binder at home."

So many questions.

Too many questions.

I could barely keep track of the first one. Partly because there were too many, and partly because I didn't want to. I didn't intend on answering any of them. Denial was the name of the game, after all.

I shook my head, flushing bright red, the Pop Tart growing pasty inside my mouth. I didn't swallow, for fear that the second I did he'd start interrogating me again.

Save me, Butters. Save me —I pleaded at my other brother, who was sitting on the couch playing some weird matchy-matchy game on his phone. He'd been sitting there since I'd left to follow Jeffrey to open-mic night, and I wasn't certain he'd ever moved. Not even to pee. All six-foot-something of his massive frame was sprawled out, one hand tucked inside the hem of his sweatpants, his shirtless chest on full display as he played on his phone.

Save me, save me.

I edged a little closer to the door.

Harry had called me home, but I officially realized what a mistake this had been.

"Why do you smell like sex?" Butters repeated, throwing me under the bus curiously as he twisted to look at the both of us, his lavender eyes wide. He set his phone down, clearly more interested in Harry's interrogation than he was in his game. He stared at me, then my clothes—eyes narrowing. "Hey, aren't those mine?—?"

This was not the first time I'd borrowed his clothes. And it wouldn't be the last…and I just?—

Oh fuck.

That was when I broke.

And the growling started.

I couldn't help it.

I was caught in a lie I was not equipped to keep. I was surprised Butters hadn't figured it out already—but then again, he was Butters—so actually that made sense. He was connecting the dots as we spoke, eyes widening as he no doubt remembered the frantic way I'd stolen his pants right off him weeks ago.

He wasn't the only one that knew, either. Theo obviously did, because he'd already helped me out once before. He was a secret keeper. Giant. Soft-spoken. Trustworthy. Despite being close to Harry, I knew he wouldn't say anything.

I probably should've anticipated this.

But I was still reeling from comforting Jeffrey and the fact I'd had to leave him alone when he so obviously needed me just so I wouldn't get us caught. And I had not been prepared to be outright called out and questioned. It was hard enough keeping quiet about Jeffrey in general, when all I wanted to do was tell everyone how pretty-perfect-lovely-sad-sweet-brave he was.

And also see what they knew about Lydia, the woman who had hurt him, so I could hunt her down and snap her head off with my teeth.

If I'd been in my wolf form my hackles would've raised—but as it was, all I had was soggy pastry-filled cheeks and subvocals that rumbled loud enough the room quieted immediately. I may have been the youngest but I was the alpha and outranked both of them—not that I liked to use that to my advantage usually.

I just…

I didn't have room in my head for this right now. Not when my thoughts were spinning back to Jeffrey. To the appointment I'd overheard. To the magic of his singing voice. The way he'd smelled and tasted when I'd had him in the shower. And his mouth…god, his mouth.

I could dedicate hours to thinking about his mouth alone. All slick and pink.

But most of all, I couldn't help but wonder when I could see him again—not as his dog, but as me. Which was…weird.

Weird to think about.

All my life, I'd preferred my wolfskin to my humanskin. It felt more natural. More right. And yet, when I was with Jeffrey there was this itch beneath my skin to touch, not with my paws or snout, but with my hands. To feel the warmth of his skin beneath my palms, to hold, to kiss, to cover every inch of his body with mine until we were sweaty soft and he was safe-safe-safe.

Both omegas frowned at me, not cowed.

I didn't know what my scent was telling them, but it couldn't be good.

My cheeks heated.

Their expressions were comically similar, though Harry and Butters were about as different as could be. Harry was lithe with dark hair and severe features. Butters was thick as a slab of toast with margarine colored hair and leagues of tan muscle. He preferred to be naked when he was two-legged, and I didn't blame him. There was a reason I was pilfering clothing from him, after all. And it was because I hated them so damn much that I didn't own any. I hadn't needed them—at least until now.

Still, it wasn't fair that both of them were ganging up on me like this. Nosy bastards.

I am not a grumpy person. I am not mean. I am not impatient. Or at least, I wasn't . Not until now. We were only two months into this and I was already at my wit's end, caught, because of a secret I didn't want to keep.

Lying was…exhausting.

For a second, I was tempted to spill everything.

Harry would probably freak out. Stalk Jeffrey himself. Research him. Tell me off for being stupid and blah, blah, blah. There'd be no going back. No quiet slivers of peace anymore. Because Harry would tell everyone, and then my nosy-ass brothers would poke their slimy snouts into our business.

Telling all my brothers would certainly mean drama.

Theo would ply Jeffrey with pastries.

Butters would try to wrestle him—to welcome him into the pack—and probably hurt him, on account of being butter-fingered, like his nickname suggested.

And Jules would force him to join his book club and make him read all sorts of the weird crap he liked—to the point that Jeffrey wouldn't have time for me at all. And don't even get me started on Mom and Dad—because if my brothers knew, so would my parents—well…

Fuck.

They'd fly all the way out from Colorado.

They'd try to get Jeffrey to understand why our time together was temporary. They'd turn this thing—this thing that I had been doing my damndest to keep casual for both our sakes'—into something that hurt.

They'd tear Jeffrey apart, however unintentional it would be.

Our remaining few months of happiness would be soured.

And I'd become…not a pleasant memory—a seasonal lover—but another in a long list of the tragedies that made up Jeffrey Prince's life.

I wasn't willing to let myself become a bad memory.

That's asking too much.

Too much.

So, I refused to speak. At least not now. Even though they'd both clearly already cottoned on—at least a little as to what was going on. My growls quieted, and both my brothers continued to stare at me like they didn't recognize me at all.

I swallowed the Pop Tart, even though it felt like wet sand. It scraped down my throat, choking me a little as Butters and Harry kept waiting for answers—scents… contrite.

I was doing my best not to feel guilty for snapping at them.

Even without the secret keeping, if I was being honest, Harry had every right to be annoyed with me. They all did. I mean, we were only in Maine because of me. Because I'd stood in front of Dad, the Pack Alpha, and quite literally begged him to let us set up a new compound here.

Things had gotten far more complicated after we'd arrived. After I'd begun following Jeffrey, from the shadows, and been unable to help myself when he'd been in danger. I'd stepped in because it was the right thing to do.

And everything that had happened since had been my fault.

Because I had very little self-control when it came to him.

And that had been before I knew anything about what he'd been through.

Before he'd caught me guarding him, and instead of smelling frightened, invited me into his home. Before he'd torn apart his hands when I'd run from him. So broken and lost and lonely. Before we'd had cheeseburgers together, shared laughter, and I'd returned to his home, because I couldn't leave him again.

I couldn't do it.

I couldn't, I couldn't, I couldn't.

And he was so happy when he saw my wolfskin waiting on his doorstep. He was so happy-happy- happy I was there.

So despite how out of character all of this was for me, I couldn't seem to stop.

I couldn't just leave him. What kind of alpha would I be?

He needed me.

He needed me and it hurt so bad—so, so bad that this couldn't be forever. It was tearing me apart from the inside out and I could hardly breathe because of it. He deserved so much better than what I could give him. He deserved so much better than a half-mate and deception.

But it was all I had.

It was all I had.

Wearing my wolfskin, I dropped him off at work every day. I guarded him from outside the front door, listened to him charm the customers, competent as ever, his walls back in place. And when his shift was over I accompanied him home, and watched after him, because it was all I could do.

Sometimes Jeffrey pet me, other days he'd bury his face in my hair and hum beneath his breath. The same song he'd sang for open mic night. Voice angelic and sweet.

On the occasions when I had to leave while wearing my wolfskin, I would scratch at the door till he let me out. Since the first time I'd run off, Jeffrey always trusted me to return.

And any time I thought about leaving for good, I simply…couldn't.

Because I'd remember his face every time he stepped out of the small shop on Main Street after his shifts were over. The same face, every damn time. So… hopeful . His copper hair would glint, and the broad span of his shoulders would sink, his head dropping infinitesimally as sad-loss-lonely-scent filled the air any time he didn't see me immediately. He'd look both ways down the street, searching for me, and the scent only grew stronger as the seconds ticked by.

Until he'd see me again, waiting for him, and the air would fill with light again.

All my life I'd dreamed of the day I'd find my fated mate. The day I'd meet my perfect person, the other half of my heart's duet. Only it didn't take long to realize fated mates were a rare thing indeed, and I'd more than likely never meet mine. Most people didn't.

So I'd decided to settle, when the time came. When the moon betrayed me and I had no choice but to take a mate.

Because though my head was full of the fairy tales I'd grown up watching on my parents tiny TV, I knew I needed to be realistic. I'd choose a wolf just like my father had, and his father before him. I'd bite the back of their neck and we'd bond, and I'd stop myself from going permanently feral.

Still young, and clumsy pawed, Dad and Mom would show me the mating catalog and I'd wag my tail and picture happily ever afters with the wolves inside it. I pictured frolicking in the woods, tasting cool stream water, pups. So many pups. I imagined feeling whole for the first time in my life. The gaping, gnawing emptiness inside me sated. I'd daydreamed and fantasized. It had been something I was excited for.

But now, the thought filled me with dread.

Jeffrey was human, not a wolf, and he couldn't be what I needed, despite being the one my moon mother had decided was my fated mate.

It was a cruel joke, really.

Jeffrey was everything I had ever wanted, but I couldn't choose him without losing myself.

Harry and Butters were still staring at me—waiting for an answer. They could probably smell my emotions. Sad-loss-sad, and as much as I wished I could cover up my own scent, I knew that was impossible.

I took a steadying breath, lashes fluttering at the thought of all of Jeffrey's creamy, freckled skin, trying to think happy thoughts and not about the tragedy that awaited me at the end of my stay in Elmwood.

Colorado had always been home, but now it felt like a death sentence.

"Matthew…" Harry frowned at me, reaching out for me. I side-stepped his touch. I shook my head, my tongue tasting like ash. Harry backed off.

Butters made a confused sound, his tail thwacking against the couch as the ears on his head flattened. He glanced between me and Harry, like he was about to say something—but Harry growled softly and Butter's mouth clicked shut.

"Silas says he's happy you could make today's meeting," Harry said, offering me an olive branch. I nodded, my own ears flattened to my scalp. I preferred having them out, even in humanskin, as losing all of my true form felt uncomfortable. Butters was the same, he often decorated himself with his ears and tail, using them to emote in a way wolves better understood, especially wolves like us who preferred our wolfskin.

I nodded, trying not to huff in annoyance at the mention of Silas. He was alpha of the pack that resided on the outskirts of Elmwood. Tall and as severe as Harry but with a look on his face that made his mouth twist like he'd gotten a pine needle stuck in his paw.

He was a stick in the mud. And he wasn't my brother, so I didn't feel bad about saying that. So far, he'd been very specific about only ever wanting me, Theo, or Harry involved in negotiations. And he'd been a real prick about allowing Harry to come in the first place. The ass apparently hadn't wanted a foreign omega on his pack grounds.

Harry had quickly shown him how idiotic that was.

And to Silas's credit, he'd realized his error and no longer pushed for Harry's silence.

But still, I didn't like him.

"Don't flash your teeth like that," Theo said, entering through the front door and blocking the only exit with his bulk. I scowled at him, and he laughed good-naturedly. Of my brothers, Theo was the largest. Beneath his dark skin, his pearly grin, and his gold-beta-eyes, Theo was the sweetest of all my siblings. A gentle giant who was more bake than bark—on account of the amount of time he spent in front of a mixer covered in icing.

"What's gotten into you?" Theo asked, concerned. He petted my head as he passed, the gentle way he always did, but it did nothing for my agitation. For a second, I debated diving for the exit now that it was free again—but thought better of it.

It was late. Far too late to be going out, but Silas—because he was Silas—often held meetings at this time. Probably so the head of SAC could attend as well, as he was a fanged-one and could not go out when the sun was up.

"He's been running off a lot lately," Harry sighed, annoyed—unaware that Theo knew this already. In fact, he was the only person who knew who I had been running off with—even though he'd been kind enough not to ask too many questions when he'd offered his help.

"Probably pissing on trees," Butters snorted where he sat sprawled on the couch, the app on his phone pulled up again, his thick fingers swiping the screen, pink tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth while he concentrated.

None of them mentioned the sex scent again.

I'm sure they could smell my relief.

Harry handed Theo the notes he'd been drafting up at the dining table, and Theo accepted them with a grateful hum.

"Projecting much?" Jules teased. The smooth cadence of his voice wafted in from the hallway as he entered the living room from the other end, flipping the page in his book without looking up. A lock of dark hair fell across his brow. He was barely half Butter's size and his hair was as dark as Butters's was light. Yin and Yang. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he and Harry were blood-related, they looked so similar. Though Jules was slighter and shorter, and had a lock of white hair right at the front of his hair that made him look like a skunk more often than not.

A skunk that read books.

"Fair," Butters laughed, holding a hand out for a high-five that Jules returned as he walked past him without looking up.

Butters then turned to Theo, his hand cupping his mouth as he angled his body toward him. "What does "projecting" mean?"

Jules snorted out a laugh, "Why did you high-five me if you didn't even know what I said?"

"I dunno, seemed like a good diss."

"Jesus Christ," Harry pinched the bridge of his nose from where he still stood inside the archway that led to the kitchen and Theo gently patted him on the back in a soothing manner before turning back to Butters.

"When someone unconsciously attributes their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors to another person, they are projecting."

"I don't understand half of what you just said," Butters smiled serenely then turned back to his game. Swipe, swipe, swipe. "But thanks for trying."

"You're welcome," Theo pressed his lips together to hide his smile, shaking his head as he started reviewing his notes.

"I think we should ask for more land," Harry said, ducking his head so he and Theo were whispering. It was easy enough to catch every word, so there was no need for him to raise his voice. We all had superior hearing. "This isn't nearly enough for what they're asking us to pay. Besides, we need room for full moon runs without bumping into each other's packs."

"Unless they want to run together?"

"Oh. Well that's an idea."

And so it began.

Again .

Yay.

Instead of paying attention like I probably should have while we prepped for visiting the Elmwood Pack, I thought about Jeffrey again. I thought about the precious time I was missing out on. I may not have intended on staying at first, but now that I was stuck, I couldn't help but dive in headfirst.

We didn't have much time—and I intended on savoring it as much as I possibly could.

And I wouldn't let anyone stop me. Not my brothers. Not my duty to the pack. Not the full moon. Nothing.