Page 60 of Ravaged Wolf
For a long moment, he’s silent, and then, finally, he says, “I understand.” He stands and holds out his hand. “Come on, mate. It’s late. Let’s go home.”
My heart leaps. With surprise. And fear.
And hope.
14
TREVOR
I am absolutelyunprepared for a mate. Psychologically. Emotionally.Logistically.
I’ve been living on a raised platform with an overhang I threw together to protect Granddad Cameron and me from the rain. When we got to Old Den, I didn’t know Alec had made his way here, and for a minute, we figured Granddad would stay with him, but Nola, the female who raised his mate, can’t tolerate an unmated male in the house, not even an old stray like Granddad.
That was fine with Granddad. He likes the bachelor life. He’s in for a change.
When Izzy said she wanted a mate, I brought her right to my lean-to. She’s sleeping on my bedroll, which is only a few moth-eaten quilts on a canvas drop cloth I salvaged back at Salt Mountain. Granddad is snoring up a storm on his cot. I’m sitting on the edge of the platform in the morning drizzle. There’s not room enough under the overhang for three.
I need a bed. Table. Chairs. Three more fucking walls, at a minimum.
The weather’s warm enough now, but I’ll need afireplace by winter, which means brick or stone. I earn my keep, and I can earn hers, too, but communes don’t produce their own drywall and fiberglass insulation. Building materials cost money.
My throat tightens as the list grows in my head until Izzy lets out her own delicate snort and snuggles deeper under the blankets. The only visible parts of her are the top of her head and the bare left foot she’s stuck out for temperature regulation. My lungs expand, and the thud in my heart eases. She’s here. It’s all good. Better than I ever prayed for.
She’ll wake up soon, and so will Grandad. I don’t want either of them out in the damp. I quietly slip down and go fetch breakfast. Everyone is acting very, very natural.
“Hi, Trevor,” Enid chirps when I arrive at the long tables where the pack eats in random shifts.
“Hey there, handsome,” Rae says as she passes with a pan of biscuits.
“Sleep in?” Arly teases, following with a pot of coffee.
“Good morning, Trevor,” Drona calls.
“Hi!” her daughters chime in unison, waving.
At least Danny does me the favor of ignoring me. He’s busy shoveling eggs in his face with one hand while he scrolls on his phone with the other. I’ll never get used to how this cave has Wi-Fi when Salt Mountain manages with one telephone spliced off a wire that runs to a human’s cabin further up the mountain.
“Where’s Izzy?” Nia demands.
Rosie groans. “Ever heard of tact, Nia?”
“That’s some nob shit. You don’t need tact if you’ve got balls.”
Pritchard’s wolf is lounging on the bench beside her. He raises his head, stares meaningfully at her lap, and cocks a bushy, wolfish eyebrow.
“Figure of speech,” Nia says.
Pritchard’s wolf snorts, steals a piece of ham off her plate, and leaps down before the swat she aims at him can land.
“She’s still sleeping,” I tell the room at large.
“Sleeping where?” Nia demands.
“My place.”
Every female in the vicinity goes “oooooo” at once. Danny, too, the little shit.
My face burns as I head over to the spread to make three plates. Granddad’s teeth don’t number very many these days, so he gets a bowl of scrambled eggs and crumbled sausage. It’s still a balancing act when I’m done since I want to bring them both a mug of coffee.
