Brothersong (Green Creek 4)

And I didn’t want to piss it off any more than I already had. I remembered the look on Robert Livingstone’s face when his son had shifted before him back in Caswell, stopping him from killing me. And even though I’d been distracted by the startling realization of what I should have known all along, I hadn’t missed the betrayal that Livingstone had felt. His fury had almost felt alive. There, at last, he’d found what he’d been looking for, and Gavin had practically spat in his face.

But at the house with the hunters, Livingstone had listened to him when Gavin told him that if he hurt me, Gavin would leave him. That he would leave his

father and he would be alone.

And whatever anger Livingstone felt toward me didn’t compare to his son’s threat.

I didn’t know how long that would last.

I didn’t want to take any chances.

I groaned as I relieved myself against a tree. Even though I had no idea what the hell was going on, I had to keep from laughing at the absurdity of it all. My scent was here now. In this cabin. It was probably going to tick Gavin off when he came back and saw that I’d pissed here, like I was leaving my mark.

If he came back, that was. For all I knew, he was running.

“That’s fine,” I said. “You do that. See how far you get. I’ll fucking find you then too.”

I turned around after putting my dick away and zipping up my pants. Trees surrounded the cabin on all sides. It was an old thing, and if it weren’t for the smoke rising from the chimney, I would have thought it abandoned. There was a cord of wood stacked underneath a tarp on the right side.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose.

My skin itched.

I was being watched.

I looked around.

Nothing.

For a moment I thought about doing what he asked. Going back in and grabbing my bag. Finding my truck. Getting the fuck out of here.

But I hadn’t come this far just to bail now.

I started back toward the cabin but stopped when I saw something lying near the door.

My shorts, discarded on the small wooden porch.

I picked them up.

And then I went inside and closed the door behind me.

HE CAME BACK a few hours later as a wolf.

I heard him prowling outside of the cabin, paws crunching the snow. I looked out the window and saw a big timber wolf pacing in front of the cabin, ears flat against his skull, teeth bared. He was growling angrily. I watched as he went to the tree I’d urinated on. He sneezed, shaking his head.

And then he lifted his leg and pissed in the same exact spot.

I snorted.

He snapped his head toward the window.

I saluted him like an asshole. “Have at it, motherfucker.”

He glared at me before turning around, giving me his back. He sat down, looking into the woods, shoulders stiff, ears at attention.

He was ignoring me.

He’d done it before. “And you call me a child,” I said, knowing he could hear me.