Stop it, I commanded myself, sucking in a ragged breath.
It was the mate bond. It had to be. The name of the game was to make him feel like he had no choice but to leave. Ordering him to go definitely wasn’t going to work. And apparently appealing to his rationality wasn’t going to, either.
So what if every fiber of my being was firmly telling me no matter where else I was, so long as Harris was at my side, I was already home?
Ignoring that was my only safe option here.
I was so stuck in my head the walk from the parking area to the commune seemed to take no time at all.
I took Harris to the vacant cabin next to mine. I didn’t want him sleeping with me—the temptation to make a mistake would be way too powerful—but I also couldn’t stomach the idea of him being too far away. If the unknown monster did attack the commune, I’d still be close enough to protect him.
Besides, the cabin was a decent one. Granted, it had been empty for a long time—ever since the former alpha, Jeremy, had fled into the woods to live as a wolf for nearly a year, and half the pack had decided they should split too, before things got any worse. In his grief at the loss of his mate, Jeremy had forced all of us to abduct a human man named James, who he had attempted to turn into a werewolf against his will. If not for a vampire—and not just any vampire, but the progeny of thevampire king of Seattle—saving James from us, he would have been forced into a life he hadn’t chosen.
I had been Jeremy’s friend since childhood and I understood exactly why he did what he did, but even I had a hard time forgiving him for it. He had forced us all to become monsters by issuing an adjuration, which was essentially an alpha command none of us could refuse. The only redeeming thing about the whole situation was that James had convinced Jeremy to have a change of heart, which told me my friend was still in there somewhere.
But that choice—his awful choice to force the pack to carry out his darkest impulses, nearly two years ago—had fractured us. It had weakened us.
“It seems… quiet,” Harris said, when we paused outside the cabin. “I guess I was expecting more people here.”
Alarm jolted through me. Maybe it was a coincidence, but his words were very in line with my thoughts. I gave him a sideways look, hoping none of my actual emotions showed on my face. “Don’t you mean werewolves?”
“You’re still people,” Harris said firmly, so quickly that he hadn’t even needed to think about it. “I just… expected more of you, I guess. When I think ‘pack of werewolves,’ I don’t think of a bunch of empty log cabins.”
“Maybe everyone is at work.”
“You guys have jobs?”
I led us up the steps to the cabin’s front porch. “Some of us do. I manage the bar in town. Lacey and the twins help out there, too. Oliver has a job at the ski lodge during the winter months.”
He snorted. “A werewolf named Oliver, huh?”
“He was dying. We offered him the chance to live. In return, he joined the pack. We gave him the bite. That was five years ago. He’s been with us ever since.”
“Wait—what?” Harris took a step back, almost slipping off the narrow wooden front porch we were standing on.
Automatically, I reached out to stabilize him. “Look, I know you’re only human, but can you at least try not to injure yourself while you’re here?”
He scowled at that, which I chalked up to a win.
“So that part of the stories is true, then? People become werewolves by being bitten?” Harris asked a moment later.
He seemed too interested. Too earnest.
Why the hell did I care?
I wasn’t going to answer his question, but when Harris just looked at me with raised eyebrows, waiting, I found that Iwantedto tell him. His dark, intelligent eyes were fathomless but somehow also warm. This man was pure trouble.
At last, I gave in. “That’s one way. The other is to be born into it.”
He frowned at that, but I suspected he was filing that information away for later. Just what I needed.
Doing my best to push away my sudden, insane, and immensely unhelpful desire to give him anything he wanted of me, I opened the door and led the way inside.
Harris followed me in, dropping his duffel onto the wooden floor, then stepped past me. “Huh, not bad.”
I tried not to feel a small flush of pleasure at his approval. “It’s not too small for you?” I asked hopefully. “Maybe it’s too… I don’t know… rustic? Given that you’re a big-city guy and all.”
He shook his head. “Nah. Big cities are claustrophobic. Too many people, too much traffic, too much concrete, and all of it man-made—it’s fake, somehow. This place feels…” His dark eyes swept across the interior of the cabin, which was small and simple. One room with a wooden ladder leading up to the sleeping loft. There was a sofa, a television, a kitchen, a square wooden table, a fireplace, and a bookcase with only a handfulof books. The previous occupant—Arden—hadn’t needed much. Harris finished with, “Morerealthan Los Angeles. It feels like it’s telling the truth, somehow.”
