Page 60 of Feral Werewolves

“Right,” said Griff, nodding.

“It’s too slow,” said Lazarus. “I’m reading something about how there’s a scent attraction. I wonder if we can facilitate that better. Have the women line up at the beginning of the gatherings, let the wolves scent them—”

“But there are wolves who want it the way it’s always been, probably,” I said. “Wolves who can’t see why it would be better to be with one woman when they could stick their cocks in four or five throughout the night.”

“That’s it exactly,” said Griff. “They don’t see any value in mates. I talked to Red about it, you know, and Red and I are like this.” He held up his first two fingers, crossed around each other. “But Red said he thought it sounded horrible all around, just a recipe for weakness. He said even if he found a mate, he wouldn’t want one.”

“You and Red are close?” spoke up Clementine. “Really close?”

“We’re like brothers,” said Griff. “That’s the only thing that’s reassuring here, is that no matter what happens, Red has my back, and other wolves would beinsaneto challenge him.”

clementine

AFTER THE VISITfrom Griff and Madrigal, everyone in thehouse was nervous.

Lazarus decided that we needed to have a big batch of vegetable soup. He put everyone to work. He sent Kestrel off to the garden to get herbs and Paladin down to the cellar to get onions and garlic and me to the pantry to find some jars of tomatoes that looked as if they’d been canned right here at the farm.

Then we all stayed in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and doing whatever Lazarus said.

At first, the entire kitchen seemed full of nervous energy, and everyone was frantic at whatever we were up to. We were all chopping or scrubbing or stirring. But then, as the aroma of cooking onions and garlic began to permeate the air, the atmosphere seemed to change.

Soon enough, we were all laughing as we bumped into each other in the space, and the stew was bubbling on the stove, smelling delicious. Soon enough, the nervousness seemed to have melted away in the face of what we’d all done together.

Maybe it wasn’t much, just cooking food, but it had been accomplished by all of us together. I wondered if it was as Paladin said, that people needed connection. It was less about what we did than it was about how we did it.

If Lazarus had done all the cooking himself, without involving everyone, would we all feel better?

We sat at the kitchen table together as the stew simmered, and we drank iced tea together and talked about how the fuck this was going to even work.

I realized with a jolt that I’d been gone for two nights now, soon to be three, from home, and that I’d done nothing to contact anyone. Why hadn’t I been thinking about my dad worrying? Or about my roommate, sitting there the next morning, possibly with another Starbucks coffee for me, wondering if I was dead?

I guessed maybe I hadn’t wanted to, because the minute I did, I only felt guilty.

I wasn’t relishing the discussion with anyone back home.

No one was going to understand. I could just imagineNinnia gasping and sputtering, unable to even put togetherwords.

Lazarus told everyone how I was planning to be the savior of the wolves and sue the government. “She said a class action suit,” said Lazarus. “We have to help her get her degree by correspondence out here or something.”

“We need to go back and get your things,” said Paladin. “We can do that, go over the wall, the place where we did before. You bring back your phone and some clothes and whatever else you’ll need out here.”

“Get her things,” said Kestrel, sounding tired and a little defeated. “Because she’s staying.”

“Oh, come on, is that still a question?” said Lazarus, shaking his head at him.

Paladin gestured broadly with his hands, lowering his voice to mimic Kestrel. “Come on, everyone, I’m the leader here, and I have to make the tough decisions, and I say it’s too dangerous—”

“Shut the fuck up,” said Kestrel, but it was good-natured. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “Well, Griff knows about her now. And maybe there’s some chance this works out.”

“What he said about Red,” said Lazarus. “That’s a good sign.”

“Yeah, if Red isn’t gunning for Griff’s spot, that’s something,” said Kestrel.

“I’m staying,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You want me to stay, Kestrel, and you’re not going to make me leave.”

“She’s staying,” said Paladin.

Kestrel smiled at me, and his expression was gentle. “So, uh, what do you need to survive out here, huh? A hairdryer or something? Makeup?”

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