Chapter 9

Chapter

Nine

CONNOR

Connor closed the door to the deck and stalked into the kitchen. He resisted the urge to pull a beer, although he knew he'd need it.

"Alright, hit me with it," Connor muttered into the phone.

"You've really done it this time, Connor," Grayson said, his voice worried in a way Connor had never heard before from the Granier Pack alpha. "There's a bounty on your sprite—a hundred grand and a year of luck for whoever brings him in."

Connor scrubbed his neck. "That's not how luckbringers work."

He heard Grayson shrug. "Most wolves know shit about sprites, Connor, you know that. The bounty is bringing out the worst of us, including the savage assholes who've been kicked out of their own packs."

Connor swore under his breath and looked out the window where Ben still lounged on the deck. Seamus was flirting with Jake, having lured the shy wolf into the water with a mere crook of his finger. Connor couldn't see Anders, but that didn't mean the wolf wasn't nearby, keeping a close eye on Ben.

"Any chatter about Craven going missing?" Connor asked, leaning his hip against the counter.

"Nothing public yet," Grayson replied. "I've got the team seeding a rumor that he's in the wind because he's gone against Vaughn's orders. People will draw their own conclusions."

Connor grunted, not wholly satisfied.

"By the time rumors reach Vaughn, everyone will believe Craven's got your sprite," the Granier Pack alpha said.

"What about Craven?" Connor asked.

"We're wearing him down. Craven thinks he's smarter than he is, and that overblown ego means he keeps dropping info every time he opens his dumb mouth."

"Such as?"

"Vaughn didn't even know your sprite existed. Except one day, he gets a call from an unknown number, and the next thing, Vaughn sends out his enforcers in every direction."

"Who was the caller?"

Grayson cleared his throat but didn't say.

"Ben?" Connor turned his back from the window to stop himself from scowling. " Ben called Vaughn?"

"Whatever happened on that call, it was enough that Vaughn knew he could get his hands on a luckbringer."

Connor unclenched his fist with an effort. After a decade of successfully lying low, Ben suddenly decided to pull on the proverbial wolf's tail. Something must have changed for the pretty sprite to become so reckless.

It made Connor wonder. Ben seemed wired together with anger and spite, but beneath that was a fragility that set Connor's teeth on edge. What did Ben say about sprites without their grotto—that they die out?

The phone creaked in his grip.

"Find out what you can, Grayson," Connor gritted out.

"Leave it with us. The Granier Pack wants Vaughn and his thugs gone, too."

Connor thanked the pack alpha and hung up. He took several deep, calming breaths to stop himself from storming back onto the deck and screaming about recklessness and stupidity. What the hell was Ben thinking?

Connor calmed himself down enough to look out the window once more, only to find Ben gone. Throwing open the glass doors, he found the deck empty. "Where the fu?—"

"He's headed along the road," Anders said mildly, sitting on the bottom step and flicking a knife back and forth between his hands.

"And you didn't think to stop him?" Connor growled.

"A pup can run down Ben, given his weakened state." Anders shrugged. "I figure he needs an alpha wolf to scare him into line."

That was a blatant lie, given Anders shifted into a massive black wolf that equaled Connor's silver and white wolf in size and strength. The enforcer could be a scary bastard in a fight. Even a sprite with luck on their side wouldn't want to come up against the black wolf.

"You can thank me later," Anders said, tone bored.

Growling, Connor stripped off his clothes and dumped them in a pile beside Anders before letting the shift take hold. His wolf jumped to the front of his mind, his senses flooding with the rich smell of pine needles, tree sap and trampled dirt.

Shaking out his fur, he flicked Anders over the back of the head with his tail before launching off the deck.

Ben's presence clung to the air, and Connor chuffed at the glorious scent of sunlight-on-water. The sprite took off down the road as brazen as could be, smart enough to know he couldn't outrun a wolf in forested terrain.

Knowing Ben couldn't have gotten far, Connor moved at a steady lope. The road wove between the trees, with afternoon sunlight spreading dappled patterns across the ground. No one had attempted to enter Oakford territory uninvited for years, but now Connor marked the likely pinch points and challenging slopes and gullies that would slow an enemy down. A few trap lines might be in order, though Connor didn't want Ben to be the one to set them off during an ill-thought escape attempt.

Rounding a corner, Connor heard the scuff of feet in the near distance and admired Ben's determination. He thought over what Grayson said about Ben being the one to contact Vaughn.

Something must have happened to make Ben desperate.

Connor contemplated the moments when Ben was quiet and thought no one watched him. Too thin and too ready to throw away his life. The pretty sprite deserved better, even if he didn't know it yet. Connor could weaponize that stubbornness into something far better than self-destruction. He wanted to see Ben's forest-green eyes brighten with happiness and trust, to see him grow strong and wild and confident in the knowledge that no one could use his luck against him.

He spotted Ben at the next turn. The sprite jogged at a steady pace meant to carry him long distances rather than attempting a ill-thought sprint that would quickly rob him of his strength.

Smart, his wolf said admiringly.

Connor veered off the road and cut through the trees to get ahead of Ben before leaping back onto the road in front of the sprite.

Ben skidded to a stop and eyed the wolf. He set his jaw, his nostrils flaring as he took slow, deep breaths.

Then he sighed in disgust. "Connor."

Connor preened at Ben recognizing his wolf. Perhaps his attraction was not so one-sided after all.

The silence stretched between them.

Connor soaked in the vision of Ben through his wolf's eyes. Lean muscle spoke of endurance despite the odds, and the scarring across Ben's left knuckles reminded Connor that the sprite was a scrappy fighter when pushed into a corner. Ben needed a haircut, his messy dark hair falling over his forehead and curling at the nape of his neck in a manner that made Connor want to shift and grab and tug while his tongue slid past those full, stubborn lips.

Ben stared back unflinchingly.

Connor paced closer, intending to herd the pretty luckbringer back to the lake cabin and show him what it meant to be protected. His head was level with Ben's ribs, and he used his snout to nudge Ben into walking.

Ben planted his feet. "No, this is stupid. You should let me go if you won't use my luck."

Connor felt his muzzle twitch in a snarl. The pretty sprite was his to care for and protect, and Connor wouldn't let anything get in the way, including Ben's death wish. Connor nudged more firmly, releasing a low growl in his throat.

Ben took a step back, wariness filling his forest-green eyes.

It made Connor pause. The last thing he wanted was for Ben to be afraid of him. Connor intended to jostle and pester Ben to do what his wolf wanted, but he'd never force Ben.

Connor shook his fur and shifted.

Ben blinked and splayed his hands wide as if to shield himself. "What—where the fuck are your clothes, Stone!"

"Wolves don't wear clothes," Connor said, enjoying the touch of a breeze against his thighs and balls.

"No shit!"

Connor grinned. Ben acted horrified, but he still glanced between his fingers at Connor's body. Connor let Ben take a long look, feeling the heat of his gaze against the muscles of his chest and belly before Ben's eyes sank lower.

Making no move to cover himself, Connor said, "I won't hurt you, but I'll carry you back to the cabin if I have to, Ben."

The frustration in Ben's eyes showed he knew Connor meant every word. "This is bullshit! You need to let me go."

"Why? Tell me the truth, Ben, and I'll consider it."

Ben looked away, teeth clenched. "It's pointless, you trying to keep me. No one can stop what will happen—not even you with all your power and stupid alphaness. Letting me go is best for everyone."

"Even for you?"

The luckbringer returned his gaze, a cold blankness slipping into his forest-green eyes that Connor hated to the marrow of his bones.

"It doesn't matter," Ben said.

"Oh, it does, sweetheart. If you can't believe it right now, then I'll believe it enough for the both of us."

Ben frowned. "You already have some of my luck, Stone—you don't need to give a damn about me."

"That's where you're wrong," Connor said, wishing he could pull Ben close without the risk of getting punched in the balls. "But we're not going to have dumb conversations while my dick's swinging in the breeze."

Ben's gaze flicked down briefly before his expression eased. "You do look kind of stupid right now."

Connor stroked his abs. "We both know that's a lie."

Ben folded his arms and scowled, but his cheeks turned a lovely pink.

"I'll shift into my wolf if you agree to walk with me back to the cabin. Otherwise, I'll throw you over my shoulder, and you can look at my bare ass for the next two miles."

Ben appeared to think it over, his gaze calculating as he considered his options of attempting escape or accepting his fate. "Fine," he said after a short while. "I'll take the wolf."

Connor bit back a pleased smile that Ben felt safe enough to choose a massive wolf, especially considering the creatures who hunted him. "It'll be my pleasure," he said before shifting back to four paws.

Ben didn't draw back, his hand close enough to stroke Connor's muzzle if he wanted.

Connor gave him a gentle nudge with his shoulder.

Sighing loudly, Ben turned around and began the walk back towards the lake.

Relieved he didn't need to resort to more brutal tactics, Connor stayed close to Ben's side. This wouldn't be the last time Ben tried to escape, being so determined to throw his life away. Connor could expend all his energy trying to prove to Ben that the Oakford Pack would give him safety, but that wasn't what Ben wanted.

The sprite wanted revenge, even though he lacked the skills or a decent plan to achieve it. Combined with his poor personal luck, Ben didn't stand a chance against Vaughn.

Connor pushed down the growl in his throat. He wanted Ben to thrive, not die over an unworthy alpha. Locking Ben down and going after Vaughn himself grew increasingly tempting, though he suspected Ben would resent him taking away his right to avenge his family and clan. Conner knew he needed a different approach—one that accepted Ben was determined to put himself in harm's way.

With the help of his enforcers, Connor could figure out how to help a wild sprite willing to lose everything for vengeance… and get him the skills to survive.

Ben deserved nothing less.

For a brief moment, Connor thought fingers brushed through his fur but dismissed it has fanciful hope. Still, a sense of rightness settled under his skin from Ben striding beside him as they headed home.