Wolfsong

  “Why?”

  He smiled at me. “Because I’m the Alpha. I don’t know if I would have been able to leave again.”

  “How far does it go? Your territory.”

  “Miles and miles and miles. And I run them all, the ground beneath my feet and the air in my lungs. It’s like nothing else, Ox.”

  I touched the nearest tree and tried to feel what he felt. My fingers scraped against the bark, and I closed my eyes. I laughed at myself quietly. I was ridiculous. I wasn’t anything like them.

  And he said, “Do you want to become a wolf?”

  I opened my eyes because there was something there. There were these little bonds, like strings, that pulled in my head and my secret heart. I couldn’t quite give them names yet, because they were so new, but it was close.

  I could name Joe’s, though. His was easy.

  I said, “Do you want me to be a wolf?”

  Thomas grinned at me, full and blinding. “So many layers,” he murmured as we walked through the trees.

  I wouldn’t be like them, not completely. That much had already been explained to me. A human turned never was. There was a difference between being bitten and born. Instincts, for one. They’d had their whole lives. I’d be stumbling like a child.

  “There would be differences,” I said aloud.

  “There would,” he said.

  “But I would be a Beta.”

  “Yes. One of mine. Eventually, one of Joe’s.”

  “Why aren’t Carter or Kelly going to be the next Alpha?”

  He said, “They weren’t born to be. Joe was. He will be an Alpha.”

  I didn’t want to offend him, but I couldn’t stop the words. “I would have something you wouldn’t. If I turned.”

  “Oh? And what would that be?”

  I touched the tree again. “I would remember what it was like to be human.”

  There was no anger from him. He put an arm around my shoulders and touched his cheek to my hair, rubbing once. Twice. A third time. They did that. I understood why now. I was part of them and they needed me to smell like I was. It was weird. And comforting. He pulled away. “You would,” he said quietly. “And you would make a fine wolf.”

  “My mom,” I said by way of excuse, trying to stall for time while everything reeled around me.

  “It’s up to you,” he said.

  “Is she pack?”

  “In her own way.”

  “She would have to know.”

  “I trust you, Ox,” he said, and I closed my eyes. The weight of his words were not lost on me. Not with his family’s history.

  “Would I lose myself?” I asked him. “The part of me that makes me me.”

  “No. I wouldn’t let that happen. You would still be you. Just….”

  “More?” I asked bitterly.

  “Different,” he said. “Ox. Ox. You will never need to be more. Of anything. You are perfect just the way you are. Humans are… special. Human pack members are revered. You will always be protected. You will always be loved.”

  A bee flew past my legs and I followed it with my eyes until it disappeared. “Then why ask?”

  “Because you will always have a choice. We are defined by the choices we make. When you turn eighteen, should you want the bite, I will give it to you.”

  I looked at him. He was watching me closely. “I could run with you,” I said shyly. “At the full moon.”

  He laughed. “You’ll do that anyway. You might not be as fast, but we won’t let you fall behind.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  His smile faded. “To protect you.”

  “From what?”

  He said, “There are things far greater out there than you or I, Ox. Both good and bad. The world is bigger than you could possibly imagine. We’re safe here. For now. But that might not always be the case. This is a place of power. And places such as this always attract attention.”

  “What’s changed?”

  “Joe.”

  I looked away. “Would you have told me if he…?”

  “Yes. One day.”

  And I left it at that. “It’s probably dinnertime,” I said. “It’s tradition.”

  And his smile returned.

  I WONDERED if Thomas had noticed I never answered his questions. About becoming a wolf. I thought he did. I thought he knew everything.

  “I KEEP you grounded,” I said to Gordo not long after. We were alone in the shop, getting ready to close up for the day. It was almost time to go back to school and these quiet moments we had would become few and far between.

  He didn’t answer right away. I was okay with that.

  I locked up the front doors and followed him out back, where he’d have his smoke and I’d pretend to have one too and we’d shoot the shit for another ten minutes like we always did before we went home.

  He was sitting in his ragged lawn chair, twirling the lighter in his hands, cigarette behind his ear. He was watching a flock of birds flying by overhead.

  “My father,” he said.

  I waited.

  He cleared his throat. “My father,” he tried again. “He was… not a very nice man.”

  I wanted to tell him that we had yet another thing in common, but the words died on my tongue.

  “You don’t know this world, Ox. Not yet. If you did, you would know my father’s name. He was very powerful. He was strong and brave and people worshipped the ground he walked on. Hell, I did too. But he wasn’t a nice man.”

  My father had been a great man. I’d thought him strong and brave, and I’d worshipped the ground he walked on. But he’d never been very nice.

  Dumb as an Ox.

  Because I was gonna get shit.

  “Packs like the Bennetts—old packs with long histories—have a witch brought into their folds. It’s meant to create peace and balance and add to the power of the Alpha. My father… he was Abel Bennett’s witch. Thomas’s father. The Bennett pack was bigger then. Stronger. Revered and feared.”

  “What happened?” I asked quietly.

  “He lost his tether,” Gordo said. He chuckled bitterly.

  “Your mother?”

  “No. Another woman. She… it doesn’t matter. She died. Werewolf. My father killed many people after that.”

  I felt numb.

  “I took his place,” Gordo said. “I was twelve.”

  “Gordo—”

  “I wasn’t ready. For the responsibility. I made mistakes. My father disappeared. Fuck knows if he’s even still alive. But I had a home. A place.”

  “Gordo?”

  “What.”

  “I’m your tether.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Who was your tether before me?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” He looked away.

  But of course it did. “How long?”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “How long were you without a tether?”

  I didn’t think he’d answer. But then he said, “Years.”

  “You fucking asshole,” I said hoarsely. “Why didn’t you ask me?”

  “I didn’t think—”

  “No shit you didn’t think. You could have gotten hurt.”

  He lit his cigarette. Inhaled deeply. Blew out the smoke. “I had it under control.”

  “Fuck you and your control.”

  His eyes snapped to mine. “Just because you’re in this now doesn’t mean you know shit about it, Ox. Don’t forget. I’ve had a lifetime of all of this. You’re a fucking child.”

  I pulled myself to my full height. “A child who is part of the Bennett pack and tethered to you and Joe.”

  He watched me, a strange expression on his face. “Shit,” he muttered. “Ox.”

  “Don’t. Never again. You hear me? You don’t keep shit from me. Ever again.”

  “Ox—”

  “Gordo.”

  “Jesus, kid. You’re fucking scary sometimes. You know that, right? A bit of Alpha in you.”

  I sai
d nothing. Just glared at him.

  He sighed. “All right.”

  “Who was it?”

  Smoke curled up around his face and he said, “Mark. Okay? It was Mark. I loved him. I loved him and he left and I stayed, and until I found you, I was lost in the dark. You brought me back, Ox. You brought me back and I can’t lose you. I can’t.”

  THE OTHERS didn’t know. Tanner. Rico. Chris.

  Gordo said it was better that way.

  Sometimes I didn’t think Gordo even believed his own lies.

  SCHOOL STARTED. My senior year.

  The horn honked outside.

  I opened the door.

  Joe’s smile was bright and blinding as he waved at me from the backseat.

  He said, “Hey, Ox. Now I get to be like you guys. Time for school, yeah?”

  BACK IN the woods after asking if I wanted to be a wolf, Thomas said, “Tethers are important, Ox. Especially when they’re people. If it was an emotion, it’d have to be all encompassing. And that usually only happens with rage and hate, and it turns and twists until the tether is black and burnt. When the tether is a pack, it’s spread out amongst all members, and everyone carries the weight of the burden.”

  “And if it’s just one person?” I asked. A breeze blew through my hair and I closed my eyes.

  “If it’s one person,” Thomas said quietly, “then that person is treated as precious. But it’ll become possessive. It’s just the way it is. It’s one of the most important things there is to a wolf.”

  “What’s your tether?” I asked. As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I wanted to take them back. It felt like a deeply personal question that I had no right to ask.

  But he said, “Pack. It’s always been my pack. Not the individuals, per se, but the idea behind what pack means.”

  “Family,” I said.

  “Yes. And so much more. It can be harder when it’s individuals.”

  “What if I’m tied to two people?”

  He frowned. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

  THERE’S A third Bennett brother, the people in the hallway whispered.

  He looks just like the others.

  Why are they still with Ox?

  WE NEEDED a bigger lunch table.

  Or maybe just a bigger bench.

  I was surrounded by Bennetts. Kelly on my left. Joe on my right. Carter on the other side of him. They’d herded me to one side of the table, pressing in as close together as they could, Joe talking about this and that and everything he could even possibly think about.

  Jessie looked amused, sitting across from us. I thought there was something else buried in that smile, too, but I couldn’t figure out what it was.

  I’m sure to anybody else in the cafeteria, it looked odd. The four of us and her.

  I didn’t care.

  Joe talked and talked and talked. To me. To Carter. To Kelly.

  Never to Jessie.

  He gave me an apple slice.

  I gave him some potato chips.

  He said quietly, “I’m happy I’m here. With you.”

  I said, “Me too.”

  “DID YOU love him?” I asked Mark one fall afternoon.

  “Who?”

  “Gordo.”

  He said, “Don’t,” and walked away.

  I didn’t follow.

  I MADE Gordo drop the wards around the house and the Bennetts came over for dinner at our house one Sunday.

  At first, he refused. “It’s not safe.”

  I said, “I belong to a pack of overprotective werewolves who live next door. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t be safer.”

  “Christ,” he muttered. “Remember when you didn’t say much at all? Those were the good old days.”

  That hurt. More than I thought it would. I must not have been able to keep it from my face because he sighed and said, “Ox.”

  “Yeah?” I looked down at my shoes. I knew I didn’t always say the best things or the smartest things, but I thought I’d been getting better. I was trying.

  His hand curled around the back of my neck and there was a pulse of something between us. It wasn’t as strong as it was with Joe or the pack, but it was there and it was warm and kind and it felt like home. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

  “I know,” I said, trying to brush it off. “It’s okay.”

  His fingers tightened. “No,” he said. “It’s not okay. No one should ever make you feel like shit. Especially me. It’s unacceptable.”

  “I know.”

  “I’ll be better, okay? I’m not the best, I know. But I’ll do right by you. I swear.”

  “I know.”

  He squeezed my neck and dropped his hand. “I won’t drop the wards,” he said. “Not completely. I’ll modify them, though. For Joe. Carter and Kelly.”

  “And the rest of the pack,” I said.

  He looked away. “Yeah, Ox. For the rest too.”

  WE WERE having Sunday dinner for the first time at my house.

  Mom was very nervous. She flitted about in the kitchen like a little bird.

  I asked her why, and she said, “They’re just so fancy. We’re not fancy people, Ox.”

  “They don’t care about stuff like that.”

  “I know.”

  “You look pretty,” I said. And she did. She always did. Even when she was tired. Even when she was sad.

  She laughed and said, “Hush, you.” She swatted me with a dish towel and told me to make the salad while she checked on the lasagna.

  Joe was the first through the door. His eyes darted around, taking in everything as quickly as he could. His chest heaved, breathing in as much as possible. His eyes were wide, almost blown out.

  “Joe,” Thomas said, coming up behind him. “Calm. Even breaths.” I could hear the command in his voice, one that sent shivers along my skin. It was easier now to hear it for what it was. The Alpha. I wasn’t a wolf, but I still wanted to bare my neck to him.

  “It’s a lot,” Joe said quietly, trying to slow his breathing. “All at once.”

  I didn’t understand, but I thought I wasn’t meant to.

  Elizabeth came in, followed by Carter, Kelly, and Mark. Mom chattered away, her nerves showing through in the up-and-down cadence of her voice. Either she didn’t notice or chose not to question when the Bennetts touched almost everything in sight, dragging their hands along the couch. The dining room table. The chairs. The countertops. Carter and Kelly sprawled along chairs at the table, spreading themselves out as far as possible.

  I knew what they were doing. They were making this place smell like them. Like pack.

  Scents were important. They didn’t want it to be just me and Mom. They needed to be mixed in too.

  I hugged each of them in turn. Carter and Kelly rubbed their noses against my neck.

  Joe took my hand. “Your room,” he said. “I want to see your room.”

  He pulled me up the stairs without waiting for an answer. I didn’t even need to tell him where to go. He held out his other hand and let his fingers drift along the walls, head darting from side to side. He growled lowly for a brief moment and his hand tightened in mine. I didn’t ask what it was. I didn’t know if I wanted to know.

  But then we were in my room and he was all over. He didn’t stand in one place for more than a second, and he touched everything he could get his hands on.

  He muttered to himself, saying, “It’s strong in here, so strong, strong, strong” and “I can cover it up, I can make it go away” and “Mine, mine, mine.”

  I let him. I let him do what he needed to do.

  And then he stopped in front of my desk. Sucked in a sharp breath.

  “Joe?” I asked, taking a step from the doorway.

  “You kept it?”

  “What?”

  He didn’t answer. I stepped up behind him. He was getting taller. The top of his head reached the middle of my chest. I felt of pang of something bittersweet. I didn’t know why.

  And then I saw what h
e was looking at.

  The little wolf made of stone.

  I was confused. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Ox,” he said in a choked voice. I looked down. His hands were curling into the desk, leaving little claw marks, scoring the wood. His eyes flashed orange and I said, “Hey.” I put my hand on his shoulder and it was there again, that warmth, like it’d been with Gordo. But if Gordo had felt like a warm fire, then the pulse, the pull with Joe felt like the sun.

  He sighed and the claws pulled back and away.

  “I like your room,” he said quietly. “It’s just like I thought it would be. Cluttered and clean.”

  “Pinecones and candy canes?” I asked him.

  He smiled. “And epic and awesome.”

  He touched the stone wolf once. Just the tip of his finger to its head and that sun between us burned so very, very bright.

  a wolf thing/we’re alone

  THEY TRAINED. The werewolves. The pack.

  They moved in and out of the trees quickly and quietly.

  They tracked me through the woods while I attempted to throw them off my trail.

  Thomas said, “Attack,” and their claws would come out and he would feint left and right and up and down.

  I asked him once why we trained like we did.

  “We have to be ready,” he said.

  “For what?”

  He put a hand on my shoulder. “To protect what’s ours.”

  “From what?”

  “Anything that could take our pack or territory away.” His eyes flashed red.

  A chill went down my spine.

  I TRAINED harder.

  “MERRY CHRISTMAS, Ox.” Joe grinned when I hugged him close, my chin on the top of his head.

  “YOU’RE DIFFERENT,” Gordo said, taking a drag from his cigarette.

  “Oh?”

  “You move differently,” he clarified.

  “Maybe I’m just growing up.”

  “It’s more… confidence. You hold yourself higher.”