Wolfsong (Green Creek 1)

“And you’re being stupid about it,” she growled right back.

“I have the people here I trust,” he said. “That’s all we need.”

I hoped he was right.

THERE WAS a trust there. However small. However fragile.

But it was starting to build.

I saw it in the way the humans began to relax around Carter and Kelly. They looked less tense, less suspicious.

I saw it in the way that Gordo laughed at something Rico said. Or the way he bumped shoulders with Chris as they walked side by side. Or the way he hugged Tanner wherever they said good-bye.

I saw it in the way Robbie grew shy anytime Kelly walked into the room, blushing slightly, eyes darting toward the ground. Kelly would always look confused at this, but he never pushed it.

I saw it in the way we moved together. We weren’t in sync. Not yet. But we were getting there. We were finding the rhythm, the cadence we needed. I didn’t quite understand it myself, but their eyes were always on whatever doorway I walked through, like they were expecting me. They did the same with Joe.

It was in the way they spoke.

Carter said, “You can feel it, can’t you? The bonds. The threads. I’ve never had this, Ox. I’ve never had a pack this big.”

Kelly said, “I don’t understand. Why does he keep making those faces at me? Why does he stutter every time I try talking to him? I didn’t do anything to Robbie. I don’t get why he’s acting weird.”

Robbie said, “I don’t even know what to say to him! I don’t even know him. Anytime I try and talk to him, I forget how to talk and—oh my god, are you laughing at me? You’re a fucking bastard, Ox, I swear to god.”

Jessie said, “I tried going out with some girlfriends. We were at dinner, and they were laughing about… I don’t know what. And all I could think about was how they weren’t there, you know? They weren’t… in my head. Like the others. And it was empty for me. Ox, I swear to god, if you’ve ruined a normal life for me outside of this, I will punch you in your spleen.”

Chris said, “She’ll do it too. Trust me. When she was seven, I accidentally—ow, fine, it was on purpose, stop hitting me, for fuck’s sake—left one of her Barbies on a heating vent. It melted its face and looked… well, it looked just awesome. She didn’t think so. I still have a scar on my elbow from where she attacked me with her fingernails.”

Tanner said, “He’s different. Gordo. Maybe it’s just because I know about the whole witch thing now. Maybe that colors it. But I don’t know if that’s all of it. He’s different, you know? Since he came back. He’s… quieter. And more centered, maybe. I think he needed a pack, Ox. I know he had us, but I don’t think it was the same. I think his magic needed someone.”

Gordo said, “I couldn’t breathe. When we were gone. Not like I can here. Not like I can when I’m with you. I know you get it. I know we don’t really… talk. About stuff like this. Feelings or whatever. It’s not who we are. But, Ox, you let me breathe. I never wanted to leave you. I just—I’m. I had a pack. That night, something… I did what I had to. Or, my magic did. I bound myself to him. To Joe. But I need you to know. I was always bound to you first.”

Rico said, “If you had told me five years ago that I’d be in a werewolf pack with a kid half my age as my alfa who was also butt-fucking the other alfa—don’t you glare at me like that, Ox, you know it’s true—I would have asked if I could have some of whatever you were on. Life is… strange. Green Creek is strange.”

Elizabeth said, “I started painting again. First time in three years I picked up a paintbrush and it didn’t scare me. Oh sure, the idea of creating something new is always scary, but the act itself is cathartic. Liberating. I don’t know what phase I’m in now, Ox. But I’m going to do my best to find out. Maybe green. I feel green, Ox. Do you feel it too?”

Joe said, “I can feel them.”

Joe said, “I can feel all of them.”

Joe said, “Little pinpricks of light.”

Joe said, “My father taught me an Alpha is only as strong as his pack.”

Joe said, “Ox. Ox. Don’t you see? Can’t you feel it? Our pack is strong.”

Joe said, “And it can only get stronger. I think—”

Joe said, “I think he would have been proud. Dad. I think he would have been proud of me. Of you. Of us.”

Mark said, “It’s your heartbeat.”

“WHAT?” I asked, glancing up at Mark who sat across from me in the diner. Mark had wandered into the shop, telling me he was taking me to lunch. I wasn’t surprised when we sat in the same booth he’d sat in the day I’d met him. Things seemed to a

lways work out that way.

He was watching me with those same eyes I’d first seen when I’d barely been able to grasp the scope of the world. “How they move. How we move.”