Broken Bond (Claimed by Wolves 2)

She looks innocent.

Vulnerable.

So beautiful it fucking hurts, with her wet hair tied up in a messy bun and her skin still glowing pink from the heat of the shower.

My wolf sits up immediately, tugging me toward her with that same metaphysical need that’s been there since the moment I claimed her in the North Pack’s barn. My impulse to protect her and be near her is as strong as ever. I’ve seen her covered in black witch markings, with that viscous, horrifying smoky magic curling around her body, and my wolf doesn’t care.

None of my feelings toward her have changed. I still want her. Need her.

Before I can stop myself, I drop the spatula and the oven mitt on the counter and stride across the linoleum to draw up before her. Some distant part of me recognizes that I’ve just walked away from a skillet full of eggs, and they’re going to burn if Ridge doesn’t step in, but I don’t care. Let the smoke detector get a workout. I’m overwhelmed by the need to touch her, to breathe in her fresh, sweet scent.

She flinches before I reach her, reminding me that I moved too fast, but still not as badly as she did when Archer and I ran into her room after she woke up. She’s skittish, which isn’t out of the norm for Sable. After everything she’s been through, it’s a miracle she isn’t even more anxious or frightened of the smallest shadows.

But there’s something new there now. Fear in her eyes and devastation in the frown on her face. I can’t tell if she’s afraid of me… or herself.

Both options make me ache for her.

I reach for her hands—very slowly and deliberately, trying to project that I mean her no harm, but also, strangely, trying to let her know I’m not afraid of her either. It feels like an impossible mixture to balance. Our fingers intertwine like they’re made for each other, and I give her a tentative squeeze. Some of her anxiety falls away, and a little more of the curious, wide-eyed beauty shines through. I kiss away the rest of her frown until she’s smiling up at me.

God help me, I’m fucking lost in her. And this is entirely new territory for me.

Archer relinquishes her arm so that I can take over, then he heads toward the coffee maker. None of us have slept well these past few days while we waited out Sable’s transition. Archer’s slumped shoulders are proof that even the first pot of coffee earlier today wasn’t enough to chase away the exhaustion of sleepless worry.

Noting that Ridge has taken up my abandoned spatula, I lead Sable to the table, where I pull out her chair and help her ease into it. She moves like every muscle in her body hurts, which isn’t outside the realm of possibility. I sat by the bedside for many hours of her transition, and nothing about it looked easy. Her body may not have been transforming into a wolf, but something abnormal and painful happened anyway.

“Coffee?” I ask after she’s settled.

“I don’t think…” She furrows her brow, then gives me another wan smile. “Maybe just orange juice?”

“Yeah. You got it.”

While Ridge and Archer carry food and dishes to the table, I find a short glass in the cabinet and pour her a cup from the carton in the fridge. I don’t want to overwhelm her with too much to drink after three days without. We managed to get little more than a sip in her here and there during her more lucid moments, so her body is likely in starvation mode. But I don’t want her to not have enough to drink either.

My indecision ends up with me pouring way too much in the small cup. I pick up the overflowing glass as carefully as I can, but I still splash orange juice on the floor multiple times before I set it before her, a little lighter than it started out.

“Thank you,” she says, giving me a smile that makes it all worth it. She makes no comment on how full it is as she lifts the glass to her lips.

Ridge throws a dish towel on the orange juice puddles. I should thank him, but I’m too busy staring at her.

I take a seat across the table as Ridge brings over the finished eggs and Archer sets down the coffee carafe. For a while, there’s only silence as we fill our plates. Sable starts eating immediately, taking small, slow bites and chewing each for a long time, as if she’s getting used to the motions again. I keep my gaze riveted to her, ready to jump up for her every need. On either side of me, Ridge and Archer are poised to do the same. We watch, ignoring our own plates, as she gains momentum. The more food she puts away, the more clearly she’s regaining strength.

She looks around the table at one point, raising an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

The three of us react immediately. I reach for a piece of toast and shove it into my mouth while Archer slams his fork into a huge chunk of scrambled eggs and eats it in one go. Ridge looks away and takes a long gulp of his coffee, even though I can tell from over here that it’s gone lukewarm. None of us fool her.

Sable lays her fork down on her plate and sighs, her blue-gray eyes worried as she looks at each of us individually. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

I stop chewing and exchange glances with Ridge. There are a lot of emotions working through me; so many that I don’t even know where to begin. I lead my pack by action and quick thinking—not by any special talent for speaking my feelings and emotions.

Ridge, luckily, seems to have his head on straighter than I do. “Nothing is wrong, Sable. Nothing we can’t all face together anyway. We need you to know we won’t leave you. We won’t abandon you.”

I nod my agreement, my head bobbing like one of those big-headed dashboard dolls. He took the words right out of my thoughts, even though I had no clue how to reassure her the same way. I’ve never had to talk about this shit. Keeping emotions at bay, shoving them down deep, is something I’m good at. It’s why I’m a good alpha.

Not so good at being a possible mate, however. Can’t even pour a proper glass of orange juice. The dish towel is still on the floor making that point.

But even t

he inkling that I might not be a good mate to this woman bothers me. If Ridge and Archer can be sensitive and compassionate, then I fucking can too. Even if it means stepping outside my comfort zone.