Red River (Pack 2)

“We should go for a run with my parents.” Jobe stopped, blinked, and thought back over the past three weeks. He usually woke before Wesley, the opportunity to shift and see the sun rise above the river a siren call he couldn’t resist no matter how tired he’d be the rest of the day. He also found other times during the day to shift, often when he stepped aside to give Wesley time to talk with their pack and ask his many questions. Some evenings, Jobe let his wolf patrol the area surrounding the cabin before settling inside in his human skin. But despite his invitations, Wesley had never joined him for a single run in shifted form. “Wesley?”

“Yes?”

Jobe bolted to a sitting position. “Have you shifted since you got here?” He scrunched his eyebrows together and desperately tried to remember any opportunity Wesley would have had to change forms without Jobe being aware. “It’s been three weeks so you must have.” Because any wolf, let alone an Alpha, who went that long without taking his animal form was punishing himself and neglecting his connection to Mother Nature. “I haven’t seen your wolf and we’re together all the time, but…” Jobe licked his lips nervously. Had he been so blind where his mate’s need for patience was concerned that he failed to recognize problems he would have noticed in any pup coming up in the pack? “Wesley? You’ve shifted in Red River right?”

Chapter 7

Even without subscribing to Jobe’s brand of intense focus on Mother Nature, Wesley realized he had been ignoring his wolf half for too long. He could point out to Jobe how busy he had been meeting the members of his new pack, learning about their lives and businesses, preparing himself for his new role, but Jobe had been with him every step of the way and he had found time to shift. Besides, that excuse wouldn’t have been truthful and Wesley couldn’t bring himself to lie to Jobe.

“I haven’t shifted here, no,” Wesley confessed as he jerked his gaze away from Jobe, unable to meet his eyes. “But we can go for a run now, if you want.”

He had always known he wouldn’t be able to hide his scar from Jobe forever, and if he let him see it now, he could at least put an end to the odd conversation they were having about mates and Alphas.

“Sure.” Jobe tilted his head to the side and looked at Wesley like he couldn’t quite figure him out.

Wesley understood the cause of Jobe’s confusion. He had refused Jobe’s invitations to shift at all hours of the day and evening, yet now he was offering to leave a warm bed in the middle of the night when they’d both had a long, tiring day. But if he didn’t get up and follow through, Jobe would have more questions and Wesley wouldn’t be able to answer them without telling him about his scar. The visual would be easier than words so Wesley took in a deep breath, slowly scooted out from underneath the blanket, and stepped off the bed, leaving his entire body exposed to Jobe’s view.

“Let’s go.”

“Okay.” Jobe climbed off the mattress and stood beside him, toe-to-toe. He looked into Wesley’s eyes and frowned worriedly. “You’re okay?” He cupped the side of Wesley’s neck and rubbed his thumbs back and forth over his jaw. “You look a little”—he flicked his gaze down Wesley’s body and back up again—“tense.”

That brief glance downward must not have been enough for Jobe to see the scar. Or maybe the moonlight slipping in from behind the curtain didn’t provide enough light for Jobe’s eyes to make it out. If he really was an Alpha, his sight should have been better than other shifters’ no matter his form, but Wesley wasn’t convinced Jobe’s assertion on that front was accurate. Not that he thought Jobe was lying, but more that he wasn’t sure Jobe, or anyone else in Red River, understood the difference between what people could choose and what they were born to be.

Maybe the Red River pack’s belief that a mate could be created simply by calling a person a mate extended to believing an Alpha could be created simply by calling a person an Alpha. This was his pack now and he would do right by them, but to do that, he had to understand their customs. And if he wanted them to trust him when he explained that some of those customs were more myth than reality, then he needed to trust them too, even with something they might view as a shortcoming.

With the good of his pack at the forefront of his mind, Wesley relaxed. His body wasn’t perfect and unblemished, but he was a good Alpha. Jobe believed that, and with his support, the pack would too.