Page 128 of Wicked Savage Wolves
Me:I should be asking you that. You good, vanilla?
I takea deep breath through my nose, drawing in the scents around me. Des’s sharp bite of pecans and coffee fills most of the space, but Jo’s scent of fresh rain, passionfruit, and banana flowers still clings to my shirt. And my boy…he smelled like me. Like spice and wolf. I shake my head. I can’t wrap my head around him not being a shifter. That doesn’t fucking happen. The lycanthropy virus—Lyc-V for short—is an aggressive and all-consuming bastard. You can’t turn someone with super shifter sperm through sex but you sure as shit create shifter babies that way. Always. Or at least that’s what I thought.
I exhale loudly through my mouth. Even if he’s not a wolf, he’s still mine. We don’t abandon our own and that's what he is. Shifter or not. He’s Pack. I can’t even imagine what Jo’s been going through. Raising him on her own. In the Pack, everyone takes part in raising the young. It’s a community effort. The whole “it takes a village” thing is taken to heart. But here she is, raising a supernatural kid on her own, which can’t be easy. Especially if he’s already showing psyker abilities. An aerokinetic. Damn. How do I manage that? Help him grow into himself when I know nothing about what to expect?
I hang my head. I’m in over my head and I know it.
Isa:I’m okay. Des told me what happened. I didn’t know. Didn’t pick out your scent in his. I’m sorry.
I sigh.Even if she did, I could never be mad at her. Isa is…I don’t know. She’s my friend. But she’s more. Like a sister, but not. I don’t know how to describe it. What I do know is that she never gives up. She puts everyone else’s needs before her own. But this time, she needs to put herself first. She doesn’t need my shit. I love her for it. But I’m gonna figure this out. I don’t want her worrying about me when she has her own mess to handle.
Me:Not your fault. Get some sleep. We can talk about it later. You have enough on your plate.
Isa:It’s going to be okay. Love you, J.
Me:You too, vanilla.
I pull backon the road and go straight home, pausing in the driveway as soon as I get out of the car and catch Raul’s scent.Shit.I do not have time for this right now. I head for the door, only then spotting that it’s slightly ajar. Fuck me. My hackles rise and my wolf comes to the surface, ready to tear out of me at the first sign of trouble.
I take a deep breath and push the door the rest of the way open. A broken bottle sits discarded in the entryway, blood and booze permeating the air. I listen, but don’t hear anything beyond heavy breathing. Three heartbeats. But no voices. No footsteps. I creep through the house, careful to keep my steps silent. Where the hell isAntonio? Where’s Sofia? I zero in on the nearest heartbeat and find my brother passed out on the living room floor, dried blood beneath his nose and mouth and three long slashes across his neck. The wound is healing, no longer open, but that he is passed out and the marks still visible means it was a brutal strike. Fuck. I shake his shoulders and he stirs with a start. The beginnings of a growl rumbling in his chest.
“What the—”
“Where’s Sofia?” My heart races as I scan the room for our little sister. There are two more heartbeats in the house aside from ours. One of them must be hers.
He groans and I know his throat has got to be killing him. I help him into a sitting position. “The bastard took me by surprise.”
I clench my jaw because that’s what he always does. You never know when or if he’s going to strike. There’s no way to read Raul. One second he’s fine, and the next he’s in a manic rage, his beast trying to kill his own fucking children.
“Sofia,” I prompt when my brother doesn’t say anything else.
“Shit.” He pushes to his feet. “What time is it?”
“Maybe twelve-thirty. Why?”
His shoulders relax and he heads for the hallway that leads to our rooms. There’s more broken glass here and a few drops of blood splattered across the floor. I’m assuming those belong to Raul because they all lead toward his room at the very end of the hallway.
Antonio raises his finger to his lips in the universal sign to be quiet as he slowly opens the door that leads to my bedroom. We step inside and he goes straight for my closet. Sofia is asleep inside, having shifted into her wolf form, her tiny body curled into a ball and her nose tucked beneath one smokey gray paw. We both stare down at her, relief sweeping through me once I can see for myself that she’s okay. No visible signs of injury.
I lean down to lift her out, careful not to wake her as I lay her on my bed and tuck the blankets around her, petting her soft fur when she makes a sound of annoyance. Once she’s settled, I follow Antonio back into the hall, locking the door behind me. It only locks from the inside, so she can let herself out when she wakes up. Not that it would stop Raul if he wanted to break in, but it would at least alert us to what he was up to so we could intervene. He’s a cunning fucking wolf, even now when his humanity is hanging by a thread.
“What the hell happened?” I asked, my voice pitched low as soon as we’re a safe distance away.
He rolls his neck and scrubs a palm down his face, wincing in pain when he brushes over his bruised cheek. “What always happens. He showed up maybe an hour ago.” Antonio shakes his head. “I picked up his scent when I was outside and hid Sofia before he stepped onto the property. The man reeked of liquor. He managed to drink enough that he was actually drunk. Slurring his words and stumbling all over the place. I didn’t even know that was possible.” He shakes his head. “I made Sofia promise not to come out and to keep quiet. The bastard was so out of it he didn’t even realize she was here.”
I nod. That’s what we usually do when Raul comes around. She’s looking more and more like our mom as she gets older, and the sight of her alone has been enough to set him off the few times he’s dropped by recently.
“He’s not going to last much longer. He needs to be put down.”
I know he’s right but knowing what needs to be done doesn’t make it any easier to do, especially when you know who would be responsible for putting the nail in his coffin.
Desmond is Hunter Born, and he hasn’t had to take out a rogue yet. I don’t want my father to be his first. I don’t want that hanging between our friendship. Not if I can help it. But I know our Alpha. He’d use this as an opportunity to teach Desmond what will be expected of him. It’s why the Pack has tolerated Raul as long as they have. He’s not rogue, not yet. But we all know it’s a forgone conclusion.
“You okay?”
Antonio nods. “Yeah. I’m good. I don’t remember much after he got the jump on me. I was just closing the door to your room and boom, there he was. I managed to drag the fight out here, away from Sofia but…”
“We should get you to one of the Pack heal—”
