Page 27 of Taming of a Wolf

With the washer cleaning his linens, I collapse on the sofa and watch Jace play games. He’s good at gaming, but I was never really into it. Books were always my go-to escapism. “You’re feeling better, huh?”

Jace’s fingers slip on the controls, making his character fall to their death. “Darn it! Uh. Yeah. I’m fine.” Thanks to my shifter senses, I pick up the way his heart skips and his scent darkens with something like… guilt?

“Hey. Pause the game a sec. Talk to me.”

Sighing exasperatedly, Jace sets down the controller and stares into his lap. “I’m sorry.” He rubs his nose. “For messing up your date.”

Jace thinks it’s his fault? I had no idea he was blaming himself. “That wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it was,” Jace huffs, blinking fast. “I always mess things up for you.”

Shaking my head, I touch his shoulder. “You do not. It’s not your fault you get anxious sometimes, Jace.”

“But you were really looking forward to it.” Jace’s lips tremble, tears brightening his eyes. “You were happy. You’re never happy.”

Is that what he thinks? Horrified, I stay silent as I churn over the past week or so, trying to remember what kind of a mood I was in. Sure, I try to be upbeat and positive, but lately, a lot of it feels like an act. Rent is tight, and I’ve basically got two full-time jobs—the bookshop and being a parent to my little brother. Maybe there was one time I cursed when I screwed up dinner, or maybe I sweat over little mistakes too much, but I try to stay positive for his sake.

So he doesn’t realize how fucking deep I’m drowning some days.

The truth is, I don’t know if I can keep the bookshop goingandraise Jace, but I’ve got to. It’s hard when, after an exhausting day burning the candle at both ends, I come home to a cold, empty bed. I can’t remember when I last had time for myself or even finished a book. Most days, I don’t think I’m a good caretaker to Jace. My parents were so much better at this than I am, and they’re gone.

I have no one to rely on, no one I can trust with my brother but myself, and a lot of the time, I don’t even know if anything I do is good enough.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I make myself smile. “Jace.”

He stubbornly avoids my gaze.

“Hey.” Reaching out, I tip up his chin and look him in his watery eyes. “That guy I went out with? He was a jerk.”

“You’re just saying that,” Jace mumbles, picking at a loose thread hanging from his jeans.

“I mean it. He was a big, nasty chicken butt.” Jace snorts, and I grin. “Listen to me, kiddo. Nobody is coming between us. If I have to choose between you and some guy, I’m choosing you. End of story.”

Jace makes a face like what I said was gross, but happiness blooms in his scent like sweet spring flowers. “What if they’re Henry Cavill?”

I gawk at him. This kid… “Okay, if I have to choose between you and Henry Cavill, I’m picking Cavill, but anyone else gets the boot!” When Jace erupts into giggles, my own laughter bubbles out of me. “Get over here.”

“No!”

“Come here!” I yank him against me and tickle him until he’s gasping for breath. Breathless with laughter myself, I give him a squeeze. “Love you, little bro.”

“You too,” he says grudgingly, but he’s smiling when we pull apart.

“Now, go do your homework.”

Pouting at me, Jace does as he’s told. The bedroom door closes behind him, and I fall back against the cushions. I meant every word. I will always put Jace first. Our little family is broken and unconventional, but we’re all we’ve got.

Nobody’s coming between us, even if I have to be alone for the rest of my life.

Chapter 8

Anders

Later that night, Jamieorders us something called pizza. It’s flatbread sprinkled with cheese and something called tomato sauce and cooked until it is crispy. It is delicious. I ate half of it. The human world may be full of savage, hateful creatures, but they do know how to cook.

After we’ve eaten, Jamie calls Jace and me into the bathroom and shoves a little brush at me. “Here.”

It’s so tiny I can’t fathom what uses it has. I take the brush and run it over my hair.