Wolfsong (Green Creek 1)
“I don’t care!” he roared, slamming his fist down onto his father’s desk. The surface cracked, splitting the wood. “You’re my tether, Ox. And you’re Gordo’s. What do you think would happen if we lost you?”
“You’re an asshole,” I said. “Jesus Christ, Joe.”
“The decision has been made.”
“Obviously. I don’t even know why I’m here, then, or why we’re talking. Seeing as how you’ll do what you want anyway. You want to leave? Fine. Go. I won’t stand in your way. Not anymore.”
“Ox—”
“You’ve made up your mind?”
He nodded and looked away.
“Good,” I said. “Now deal with the consequences.”
And I turned and left.
before you go/bittersweet
IT WAS Gordo who found me first.
I was near our clearing, lying on my back, staring up at the stars through the canopy of trees. From where I lay, I could see the ground where Thomas’s pyre had been, the earth scorched. I couldn’t bring myself to go any closer.
I didn’t even need to look up to see who it was. I wondered when I started knowing the pack through bonds alone. I thought most of the others were around, but hanging back. All of them. Except for Joe. He wasn’t in the woods.
“When we were out,” I said dully, eyes tracing over Canis Major. “When you were resetting the wards. You knew already, didn’t you?”
He hesitated. Then, “Yes.”
“And he told you not to tell me.”
“Yes, but I agreed with him.”
I snorted. “Of course you did.”
Gordo sighed, and I saw him out of the corner of my eye, moving in the dark off to my right. “He’s not wrong, Ox.”
“Are you saying that because he’s right? Or because you think something is going to happen to me?”
Gordo didn’t answer. It spoke volumes.
“I can take care of myself.”
“I know,” he said.
“That’s shit, Gordo.”
“Yeah.” He sat down next to me, knees up against his chest.
“And you’re going along with it.”
“Someone has to make sure he doesn’t kill himself.”
“And that someone is you. Because you’re pack.”
“Looks like.”
“By choice?”