32. Mutt

Six hours. That was how long it took for the hunters to process me into their lodge, to lock me up, and for Jules and Harry to arrive. Because they were…idiots, and wouldn't let me die. I growled, jerking in my cage, staring at the two of them as a set of hunters marched them in through the back door.

The room was fully concrete aside from the back wall that had what Harry had once described to me as a "garage door." It was like the basements I was familiar with, but different too. Colder. Larger. An open hangar full of cages and vehicles with manacles hanging from the walls.

The cage I was inside had room for me to pace back and forth—and that's what I'd been doing. Biding my time. Waiting, because soon enough it'd all be over. I'd planned this out. Planned it out specifically so that I wouldn't be at risk of hurting the people I cared about most.

They weren't supposed to be here.

So why were they?—

"Fucking beasts," one of the hunters muttered, jerking Jules to his knees beside my cage. Apparently they had enough forethought not to put my brothers inside with me. Instead, they got chained to the wall to my left, both of them eerily silent as they held their hands out obediently for the manacles the hunters snapped into place.

Twin sets of violet eyes stared at me.

Stared and stared and stared.

Stared until the door fell shut with a quiet click and several long, silent minutes passed. And then—Harry, because he was Harry, chewed me the fuck out.

"What were you thinking?!" he hissed, glaring at me. "Calling them on yourself. You fucking self-sacrificing, wolf-shaped asshole." Harry sucked in a breath, face bright red before he started up again. "You were just gonna what? Let them kill you? And let us all figure that out…when exactly? When we saw your fucking corpse? Fuck you. Fuck you so fucking hard in your stupid fucking face."

Jules glared at me, but his expression softened when he looked at Harry. And then he laughed, but tried to cover it up. "Sorry— You just?—"

"Fuck you."

"You just…look so stupid when you get mad."

"I hate you so much right now," Harry snapped at him, and then me. "And I hate you. And I hate everything about this."

"I read a scene in a book like this once," Jules piped in helpfully. "There was this dude who got all tied up—and then his mafia boyfriend came to the rescue. Killed all the guards or whatever. And then they fucked using the blood as lube."

"I don't want to know about the porn you read, Jules," Harry's hands twitched, like he wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose, but he couldn't.

"It's not porn. It's erotica. There's a difference, and you know it. You're just being a bitch."

"All I'm hearing is that you're a slut."

"Oh my god, you can't just call me a slut."

"I just did."

Normally Harry and Jules got along. They very rarely fought. Very rarely raised their voices. Harry was prickly at best, but Jules seemed to be his exception. To see them at each other's throats like this was sobering.

I whined, and both of them quieted, swiveling to look at me.

The scent of angry-sad-loss clogged the giant empty hangar we were stationed inside, and I knew then, that I'd fucked up. Because even though I'd been trying not to hurt them—that didn't mean I hadn't.

They were hurt.

And it was my fault.

I was supposed to be their alpha. I was supposed to take care of them. And I hadn't done shit for months.

"I'm sorry." I shifted, bones cracking, fur morphing to skin. Curled into a naked ball in the corner of my cage, my ears flattened to my head.

"I fucking knew it!" Harry gasped out in outrage. "You liar. You fucking liar . I asked and the hunter on the phone said you couldn't shift—and you—you were faking it ?!" He keened, low and sad, distressed. Jules leaned into his side, nuzzling at his shoulder as Harry trembled. "Why—why would you do this?"

"I…" Miserable, I sucked in a breath. There were no cameras in here. I'd looked for them when I first arrived.

"Why the fuck would you do this to us?" Harry's voice cracked. "You know I'd fix it—I fix everyone's shit. All you had to do was ask me."

"There's no fixing this," I said softly, feeling small and hurt—and brittle.

"I know there's not a lot of time, but one of us could've turned Jeff?—"

"No," I bit out, voice low and waspish. Turned wolves were shunned. It wasn't something that was done unless in extreme duress. It was the reason omegas were looked down on. They were the only wolves that could turn humans, and if they did, they were immediately banished from their pack in retribution.

It was taboo.

Wrong.

I couldn't do that to Jeffrey.

And I couldn't ask that of my brothers—it wasn't right.

That had never even occurred to me as an option.

But apparently it had occurred to Harry.

Apparently he loved me enough to be willing to lose his home.

"Well, now I fucking can't," Harry huffed out. "Because I'm in here. With you."

"Why are you here?" I bit out, voice quaking. I knew my scent betrayed me. Told them exactly how needy and frightened I was. Exactly how desperately relieved I was that I wouldn't have to spend my last moments alone.

The truth was, they were chained up like I was—but at the end of the twelve hours, they'd be set free either way. Whether or not a Pack Alpha showed up to claim me. Neither of them had attacked the hunters, or they'd be dead right now. And if SAC sought justice for the lost lives of two innocent wolves—there would be no survivors.

They'd be sent home.

"We're here to rescue you."

"From yourself, apparently," Jules added, shaking his head. "Because you're stupid."

"The stupidest," Harry agreed.

"I don't want to be rescued."

"Liar," Harry accused, voice low. "You're a fucking liar." His entire body was pulled tight. "You think I can't fucking hear it? That I can't smell it? You're scared."

"Yeah," I admitted, voice breaking. "Yeah, I am." Harry obviously hadn't expected that, because his mouth clicked shut and his eyes went wide. "Every day for five fucking years I've woken up terrified." My breath hitched. "You don't get it. None of you fucking do." My eyes burned. "You've never been a monster."

Jeffrey had.

Jeffrey knew what this was like.

To carry power in his body—to be able to hurt and hunt and maim.

To hurt the people he cared about—not because he wanted to—but because fate decided for him that he would.

He'd survived.

He'd survived.

And I was so fucking proud?—

He'd learned what he had to do and he'd done it without question. And I…was just…doing the same. Why was that so hard for everyone to understand?

"I can feel myself slipping," my voice cracked. "Sometimes I'll just be sitting and the world will fall away—and the hunger…the fucking hunger will take over and I'll think—" I sucked in a breath. "How easy it would be to act. To—to—hunt. To do what I'm meant to."

My eyes pinched shut and I scrubbed a hand over my face.

"I'm going to die," I said, voice hoarse. "You know it. I know it. Everyone knows it. I'm going to die—and I just…wanted it to be on my terms. Just wanted to do it before I did something I can't come back from."

"Mutt," Harry's voice broke. I twisted to look at him, my heart lurching when I saw the tear streaks on his face. "Why didn't you tell us? We would have sent you home early."

"Because it wouldn't have changed a thing," I said, aching. "I made my choice—and I was… am …so happy with that."

"Is he really worth this?" Harry's voice was hoarse.

I nodded, and he…well…

He nodded back.

"I love him," I said, because I did. "I know it's stupid. I know there were easier paths. But…" I shook my head. "He was the right choice."

"I called Dad," Harry said several long silent minutes later. Jules was silent beside him, his eyes far away, his head nestled against Harry's arm.

"You what?"

"I called him," Harry said. "You were being held in one of two places. Butters and Theo went to the other—they told me you weren't there. So I called Dad and we came here."

"Fuck."

"I know…" Harry sucked in a breath. "I know you're just trying to do the right thing. But…Mutt. Fuck. I can't let you." His eyes were swimming again. " I can't. So when Dad comes, I'm telling him the truth. I'm telling him that you faked it. And then I'm going to show the hunters the phone records that prove that you're the one that called them in on your fucking self. And then you're bonding to the first eligible wolf we find."

I should've resented him.

I knew that.

But I couldn't.

Because Harry may not have been an alpha but he was my big brother—and I couldn't hate him for protecting me, even though it fucking hurt.

Several more hours passed. I'm not sure how long. My stomach ached, and I'd transformed back into my wolfskin to keep up the facade. I didn't want the hunters to realize that I could shift. They'd be forced to release me—and I…just…

No.

So, stubbornly, no matter how many times Jules and Harry cursed at me, I stayed firmly put.

Nothing changed, aside from the garage door sliding open at one point for a vehicle to be parked inside, only for that same vehicle to drive back out twenty minutes later loaded with cargo.

To pass the time, Jules—because he was Jules—started regaling us with the plot from the book he was reading at home.

"Gunther was like, two seconds from confessing," he lamented. "You couldn't have waited to turn yourself in until after they'd made out?"

I grunted, and Jules laughed. He'd warmed up to me a bit over the last few hours, though Harry remained mostly icy. I couldn't blame him. I knew what I'd done was shitty but I just…I didn't know what else to do.

Maybe I really was a self-sacrificing, wolf-faced asshole.

Every so often I'd hear Harry mutter something about me being "an idiot," but I ignored him for the most part. Though my wolf ached to be with them, outside the cage, curled up like pack one last time. There were bars between us though and that felt fitting. In a way I was grateful too—because the pull of the moon was stronger than ever with my emotions so heightened, and I was dangerous.

It was why I'd called the hunters in the first place.

My skin itched. It itched and itched and itched.

That was, of course, when things got worse.

Way worse.

Because a hunter came into the room—and before I could see him, I could smell his fury-anger-frustration. He stormed across the hangar toward a large black vehicle. Harry opened his mouth—probably to try to out me as a liar to the man, but there was no time. Because just as soon as the first hunter entered, a handful of others did as well.

They smelled panicked.

Panicked .

And none of them looked at me.

So I knew it wasn't my fault.

What could be more troubling than a feral alpha?

I swiveled toward them, listening intently as they spoke.

"Four of ours are down," the man spoke almost frantically. "Fucking idiots didn't have backup."

"What happened?"

"Jeffrey Evans. That's what happened."

I jerked, slamming into the bars, my head spinning. Jeffrey Evans. Jeffrey Evans. That was—that was Jeffrey's other name wasn't it? The one he'd told me about? Why was he out on his own? What had he done?

Fuck.

This was why he needed me with him at all times.

I should be with him.

I should be protecting him.

I promised.

"Two rogue wolves loose," the guy added. "Better load up on silver bullets."

"Jeffrey Evans?" the guy echoed, jerking the front door to the vehicle open. He slid in, and the others began piling into the back. "Are we sanctioned to shoot to kill the kid?"

"No need," the first guy said.

My ears were ringing.

"No need?" guy two asked, confused as the door slid shut with finality.

"He's already dead. Nieve called it in right before he bit the bullet."

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

Something broke inside me then.

My skin burned, claws severing flesh as I jerked against the bars and roared. Spittle fell onto the concrete, my form tearing liquid hot as acid burned through my veins.

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

It hurt. It hurt. It hurt.

The threads I'd formed that had twined around Jeffrey from the day we'd met snapped, and what little bond I'd managed to form disappeared entirely. All that was left was black, black, black. The ache. The hunger. The bars bit into my shoulder as I slammed against them—taller now—on two legs. Over and over, I slammed against them, metal screeching as I tore at it.

"Mutt—Mutt—" Harry's voice was faint. "Mutt?—"

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

Claws tore at the metal, blood smearing along their surface as I slammed into them over and over and over and over and over.

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

"Mutt—" Jules's voice now. "Mutt!"

"Fuck." Harry's voice was hollow. "Fuck. Fuck. He's feral. He's fucking?—"

The large vehicle peeled out of the garage, the door rising and staying open, the woods outside calling my name as the prey disappeared in a cloud of crunching gravel. Hungry, hungry—so hungry.

It hurt hurt hurt.

My mate?—

My mate?—

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

"Mutt—Matthew—" Harry tried again.

This time I turned my ire on him, swiveling around, my hackles raised, a low rumbling snarl bubbling up inside my throat. I hit the other side of the cage, hairy arms pushing through the gaps, blood soaked claws jerking toward the two wolves chained to the wall.

I wasn't close enough.

Wasn't close enough?—

I just?—

I was so hungry?—

I just?—

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Jules and Harry jerked back against the wall, flattening themselves against it as the room clouded with fearscent. "Fuck. Fuck." Harry's eyes were wide, the whites showing. Jules was quaking, skin nearly as pale as the white streak at his temple.

"We're so fucked," Jules hissed.

"No, we're not." Harry glared at him, then me. I snapped at him, and he flinched back. "We're—I mean. Oh fuck."

"Dad can only save him if he's not feral. That's pretty fucking feral."

"I know."

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

Out.

I wanted out.

I needed out.

Needed mate—needed?—

"You gotta come back," Jules's voice cracked. "Mutt. C'mon." He was the quiet brother, the pretty one. He'd never been the most emotional person—not like Harry, who wore his emotions plainly. "You?—"

I snapped at him and he jerked back.

"Fuck." Harry's eyes flicked between me and Jules, and I growled, backing away and then barrelling into the bars again. They creaked. "Fuck. Okay. Okay." He twitched. "Think. I gotta think. I gotta?—"

"Did they bond?" Jules asked.

"Of course fucking not," Harry hissed at him. "You can't bond with a human."

"Except that you can." Jules jerked his head at me.

"What do you?—"

"His mate. He has a mate."

"No, he?—"

"Look at him. Just fucking… look at him." His voice was low and tight. "The second he found out Jeffrey got hurt he went ape shit?—"

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

No no no no no no.

Their words filtered away, blackness clouding my vision. The hunger ached brighter, tighter. My teeth itched. Retreat, slam. Retreat, slam. Retreat, slam. Over and over I hit the bars, attempting to weaken them with every leap.

"Don't be an idiot," Jules huffed out. "Stop thinking with your textbooks and try to be a little fucking romantic for a change. Use your imagination."

"That's not how it works?—"

"Freckles!" Jules screeched—loud enough he broke through the red haze in my head.

Freckles.

Spots. Speckles. Creamy skin.

My head spun.

"Uh…fuck fuck fuck," Jules muttered and my vision swam. "Freckles and uhhhh red hair!"

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"I'm anchoring him."

"That's not how that works."

"You got a better idea?"

Harry was silent…then he sucked in a breath. "An ass that won't quit!"

"Jesus, that's not what I meant." Jules laughed. "You can't just comment on another wolf's mate's ass."

"I don't know shit about him—" Harry hissed out. "I noticed his ass. That's about it?—"

"Music!" Jules shouted. "Oranges. His face when he saw you in a suit!"

"Think, Mutt." Harry's voice was frantic. "Think. You're not this…you're—you're—your mate needs you. Your mate needs you. He needs you—come back."

"Jeffrey needs you."

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead.

He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already dead. He's already ? —

Jeffrey.

Jeffrey, Jeffrey, Jeffrey.

I jerked away from the bars, falling to my knees with a broken whine.

Jeffrey.

Jeffrey last night. The way he'd looked when he took my knot, the wet pink of his ass stretching obscenely wide.

Jeffrey and the way he'd cried for me. The way he'd hugged me. The way he'd promised he'd save me—always the savior.

Jeffrey and the way he melted beneath kind touch, like he'd never had it before.

Jeffrey and the way he opened his heart up even though he'd been hurt over and over and over again.

Jeffrey and the dark circles beneath his eyes. Dark circles because on top of fighting his own demons he'd decided to fight mine.

Jeffrey and the way he sang, musical and sweet. Prettier than bird song.

Jeffrey and how quick he was to jump to someone else's aid. Self-sacrificing, even more than I was.

Jeffrey and how easily he'd forgiven me for lying to him, even though by all rights he should hate me.

Jeffrey and his obsession with the damn guitar pick in his pocket.

Jeffrey and the fact he'd put the squirrel I'd given him on his night stand. He kissed it every night before bed, then flushed, terrified of getting caught.

Jeffrey and his loyalty—unwavering.

Jeffrey and his bloody knuckles, so distressed when I'd run that he'd punched a goddamn wall till he bled.

Jeffrey and the way he'd giggled over spaghetti, his head tossed back, throat bobbing.

Jeffrey and the ocean. The way water droplets had clung to his skin.

Jeffrey in the woods. The way his heart had raced with excitement and not fear. The way he'd run for me. The way he'd leapt over logs, effortlessly athletic. The way he'd bolted—because he craved the chase.

Jeffrey at the diner, his eyes warm, the way he'd laughed when I ordered wrong. The way he'd watched me through those pale lashes. The way our feet had bumped and he'd flushed when I glanced his way.

Jeffrey and the million wonderful, beautiful things about him.

My sweet mate.

My darling.

My prince.

The red haze bled away. The blackness faded. I curled into a ball on the floor, whining, my ears flattened, my alphaskin trembling.

"It's okay," Harry's voice echoed, scent relieved-relieved-relieved. "It's okay?—"

"Fuck, can't believe that worked."

My heart, my love, my mate.

My sunshine.

And he was?—

I sobbed, keening as the world spun and spun and spun.

Gone.

My sunshine was gone.

I wanted the blackness back. I wanted it back—because this…this hurt too much. It hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt.

I'd been so terrified of hurting Jeffrey—of leaving him behind—it hadn't even occurred to me that he could leave me first.