Broken Bond (Claimed by Wolves 2)

A few days later, we’re finishing up breakfast before heading to the training barn when there’s a knock at the front door.

Archer doesn’t get many visitors. We wake up in the morning and eat, then we go to the training barn for a few hours. In the afternoons, he often goes to visit with his father and check that things with the pack are going all right.

Malcolm does as much leading as he can from his bed, but there’s a lot he still needs Archer for, and their close relationship is amazing to behold. Sometimes I go with him, and sometimes I give him privacy. It’s become a routine, one I’ve thoroughly begun to enjoy—especially as our training sessions have helped me hone my powers and become more comfortable in my skin.

Archer excuses himself and pads to the front door in his bare feet. He looks soft and rumpled this morning in athletic shorts and a thin t-shirt, his golden hair mussed from bed. I watch him disappear from sight and lift my coffee, listening to the low rumble of voices at the front of the house. Ridge is reading a book and sipping his coffee, while Trystan and Dare are arm wrestling in between their empty plates. I cup my mug and smile at them all, stunned all over again by just how lucky I am.

When Archer returns a moment later, his face looks a little more tired than it did when he walked away. He picks up his plate and mug and carries them to the sink. “I have to go to my father’s this morning to deal with some pack business. He’s… he’s having a bad day and is unable to handle it on his own.”

“Oh no. I’m so sorry,” I tell him, hopping to my feet to join him at the sink. I wrap my arms around his waist and lean into his back, trying to give him what little support and strength I have. “Hug him for me?”

Archer’s hand is warm over mine on his belly. I can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “Yeah. Of course I will.”

I step away to let him head to the bedroom to get dressed, wishing I could do more than just hug him. Whenever his father has a bad day, I can see how heavily it weighs on Archer. The two have a strong bond and a loving relationship; I think when Malcolm finally goes, when he can’t fight anymore, Archer will be devastated. I just hope I’m there to help keep his broken pieces together, the way he always has been for me.

And to be truthful, I’ll miss Malcolm too. I’ve come to have a deep affection for the alpha in my time with his pack.

Before Archer can leave the room, Trystan speaks up. “You know, if you’d just challenge the old man, you could cut out the middle man and be alpha yourself.”

Archer pauses by the door to the kitchen, his brow knotted together as he turns to look disdainfully at Trystan. “You want me to challenge a dying man?”

Trystan shrugs and leans back in his seat in that disinterested way he’s perfected. “I just think you should do what’s right by your pack. Drawing out the transition of power only weakens both your father and you. No one knows who holds the actual authority, and that means both of you will end up losing people’s respect.”

The room goes quiet. My stomach flips over at the sudden tension that fills the small space.

“You don’t know anything about my pack’s respect,” Archer says quietly, clutching the door frame with white knuckles. His gaze drops to the hardwood, but I catch a glimpse of the hurt in his eyes before he shuts it down and says calmly, “This is how I’ve chosen to do things, and I stand by that choice. Your pack and your values are not my own.”

Ridge slams his book to the table, cutting a withering glare at Trystan. “I respect your choices, Archer. Your father is a great man, and so are you. I’d be happy to join you, if you need some backup to deal with your issue?”

“Yeah, me too,” Dare says, sliding his chair back to put distance between him and Trystan. He’s a little more reserved in his emotions, but I can tell he thinks Trystan stepped too far out of line too.

Archer nods, meeting their gazes one by one. “Honestly, having backup might not be a bad thing. If you don’t mind.”

“I’ll clean up breakfast,” I add. There’s no way my presence at a pack problem would do anything but hinder what needs to be done, but I can definitely wash dishes and wipe up. Most days, Archer won’t even let me help, he’s so intent on taking care of me. At least this way, I can take care of him for once.

Archer crosses back to me where I’m still standing at the sink, and gives me a slow, toe-curling kiss. Just our lips, no tongue, no hands, and still hotter than a summer day. “That would be really great,” he murmurs when he pulls away. “As long as you don’t mind.”

“Not even in the slightest.” I touch his face, then motion for him to get a move on. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

Ridge grins at me, then takes my hand and tugs me in for a second searing kiss that sends heat firing up my cheeks. Dare clasps my shoulder and pecks the side of my forehead, which isn’t going to make anybody’s skin warm, but it’s still a world of difference from where we were a week ago.

We haven’t revisited the passionate kiss we shared several days ago, but it’s there between us, filling the air with a charged sort of energy. I know he can feel it too, although we’re both ignoring it.

So for now, I take this soft peck as an overwhelming gesture of affection coming from him.

I make a show of gathering all the dishes and dumping them into the sink while I listen to the three shifters prepare to leave. I told Archer I’d clean up from breakfast, and I will. But the main reason I want to remain behind is to talk to Trystan.

Archer is one of the sweetest people I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing, and in my world, a man like that is someone to celebrate. No rough edges, no sharp, cutting words, just a good man with a good heart, honest and kind. Seeing the pain cross his expression after Trystan’s uncalled for “advice” has set my nerves on edge.

Within a few minutes, Archer, Ridge, and Dare are ready to go. I hear the distinct click of the door shutting behind them, and their muffled voices fade as they stride away from the house.

As soon as I can no longer hear them, I round on Trystan, letting my full irritation with him shine in my eyes.

“You asshole,” I seethe, snatching his coffee mug right out of his hand. It’s not even empty, but I toss it in the sink anyway, sudsy water splashing over the wall from the force of my anger.

He blinks up at me. “I wasn’t done with that.”

“Yes. You are,” I snap, planting my hands on my hips. “Why did you say that to Archer? God, you can be such a smug, self-righteous know-it-all sometimes! You have no right to tell anyone else how to run their pack or how to feel about their families. Do you even have a heart?”