Page 14 of Shared With The Pack

As I swallow a second piece of bacon, I reach for the side of my neck. The right side. My fingertips trace the imprint of Ridge's kiss. Ridge watches me. There's a flash of guilt in his eyes. He sets down his cup and pulls over his chair, sitting close so he can rest his hand on my leg.

"Last night must have been a lot for you." Ridge sucks his teeth, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "We meant every word. You're safe here, Wren. You're our mate now. We'll take care of you and...you never have to do anything you don't want, all right?"

"It's okay, Ridge." I fiddle with a piece of toast, breaking the crust into crumbs. "My life before I got here wasn't all that great. I think...no...I know it'll be better with you all."

Or it would be. If I was confident that I could stay without putting all three of them at risk. But I don't want to think about that. Or tell Ridge the truth about why I'm here or where I am came from. Not yet.

For just a little longer, I want to pretend everything is perfect.

"How'd you guys end up living here?" I ask. "It really is out in the middle of nowhere. Were you born here?"

Ridge shakes his head. "No, not me. I was born in the city, actually. Belonged to a pack of urban wolves. We roamed from city to city, job to job. It was a bad life."

Shame flickers across Ridge's face. He looks down at his hands.

"I was an enforcer for my pack. I hurt a lot of people. Some of it in self-defense, but most of the time...I harmed others because a bigger alpha told me to do it. Can't fix any of that, and I don't deserve to be forgiven. I just figure, well, maybe I never hurt anyone again."

My throat tightens. I don't want to believe that's true. Ridge is so kind, but I suppose he's only that way because he had a lifetime of being otherwise.

"I met Griff on the road after running away from my old pack. Followed him out here. Heath came along later, he just wandered in one day and never left."

"A stray like me?" I say with a smile.

"Yeah," Ridge agrees and cups my cheek. "It don't matter where you came from or what you did, Wren."

He gives me a soft kiss, full of all the love and acceptance I never knew before I fell out of the sky and into their lives. Ridge tells me stories as I finish eating. Delightful stories about how he and Griff built the cabin. When he mentions that there's a river nearby, an idea takes root in my mind.

A water source means bumblebloom will grow nearby.

I help Ridge clean the kitchen. When we're done, I ask him if it's okay if I take a walk outside.

"Darling, you don't ever got to ask to do anything. I'm going to be busy starting repairs, anyway." Ridge packs a bottle of water into a small bag for me. "Take Heath so you don't get turned around!"

Heath is lazing out in the grass and under the sun. I call him over, and we take off into the trees together.

Chapter 13

Griff

Down on all fours and with my mouth full of fangs, my wolf is unleashed. I let out a mournful howl, snout pointed skyward. While I'm shifted, I keep my mind and mull over everything. Things got out of hand last night. That shouldn't have happened...not like that. Yet what's done is done. No turning back time or taking it back.

Wren belongs to us. He's ours forever.

Though that doesn't mean he's under any obligation to stay.

I run through the forest, retracing last steps to take me to where Wren crashed. The storm blew so hard that it flung leaves everywhere. Only the evergreens remained clothed. Pile upon pile of orange-red-yellow leaves crunch underneath my paws. Maple, birch, and oak. The occasional hickory or black glum.

The sun shines and nature returns, careless of the danger and strife that tore through only hours prior. Birds flutter from tree to tree, and smaller critters dart this way and that. I ignore the instinct in me that yearns to chase after prey.

No hunting anything, but I do track something.

I press my nose to the earth, sniffing deep as I track Wren's scent, seeking where he was rather than he is. Getting back to the crash site is easy. Recovering what I'm after? Not so much.

Morning fades into noon as I search under every tree with broken branches. Wren caused quite a ruckus when he fell out of the sky. I'll get the truth out of him sooner rather than later. Nobody would risk the danger of a storm like that unless they were fleeing an even greater danger.

I finally find one half of what I'm looking for. Carrying it in my mouth, I look for the other. That one comes easier. It reeks of Wren's magic. The stink of enchantment is like a strong perfume. Cloying almost. It's the only unnatural thing in the forest.

After another hour, I find the second half: both parts of Wren's broken broomstick reunited.