Taken In by the Pack: Second Chances (17 page)

I nodded with a little sniff. “It’s okay, I understand.” Bryson held me close, trying to be supportive, and stroked my hair gently. Madge pursed her lips thoughtfully, then stood, wandering off without another word. I hoped I hadn’t offended her somehow.

We just sat quietly together for some time, watching the fire, each lost in our own thoughts. After a while, though, I began to yawn. I was not used to being up so late! It was certainly closer to dawn than dusk by that time, well past midnight.

“You can lay down if you want,” offered Bryson gently. I gave him a sleepy smile and nodded faintly. He scooted forward, pulling me with him, to sit on the ground in front of the log. I raised a brow, confused, but he patted his thigh. “Pillow?” he suggested. I could feel my cheeks grow hot yet again, and I bit my lip in indecision.

As if summoned, Madge returned then, carrying two blankets. With a roll of her eyes and a little huff, she half-unfolded one of them and spread it out over Bryson’s lap, making him laugh softly. “There. Go ahead and lay down, now.” She waited until I did as suggested, much more comfortable with the idea now that he was covered with the blanket. She then unfolded the other blanket, and tossed it out over me.

I smiled warmly up at her. “Thanks, Miss Madge.”

“Any time, dear.” She smiled in return, then wandered off again.

I lay quietly, staring sleepily at the flames in front of us, with Bryson gently stroking my hair. It didn’t take long before my blinking grew longer, and longer, until I just didn’t open my eyes again, drifting to sleep.

Chapter Eleven

It was right around dawn when I woke up; it was light enough to see, but the sun hadn’t broken the horizon yet, or at least not the treeline. I was stiff and sore from sleeping on the ground; I was chilly despite the blanket I was huddled under; and I was damp from the dew and the soft mist wafting through the meadow, collecting on the tall grass and turning it all into delicate crystal statues. The scent of roast pork, smoke, wet dog, and something musky I couldn’t quite identify were strong in the air; I’d probably have to wash this outfit at least twice to get the smell out.

I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes, and took stock of my surroundings. Bryson was slumped over with his head at an awkward angle on the log-bench. The fire was still flickering a few sad little flames, but was mostly a big pile of ash and embers. With only a few exceptions, all the bottles, cans, and plates had made it into a couple of big black trash bags. There was no sign of the remains of the boar; of course, with wolves around, they had probably made off with the bones to gnaw on, I figured.

There were people — and a few wolves, still — scattered everywhere as well, some by themselves but mostly in clumps of at least two. I saw one pile near the fire on the far side that looked like it had to be somewhere around a dozen individuals, human and wolf both, all sprawled and tangled up together. It looked rather disturbing, arms and legs arranged seemingly at random, but somehow it seemed inviting, too.

I frowned a bit, trying to get my mind to wake up, to start working properly. I looked to the sleeping Bryson again, and suddenly I wanted very much to be at home, to curl up in my nice soft bed, and pretend the world didn’t exist for a while. Or at the very least, to sort through all that had happened, all that I had learned and what it meant for me. Not least of all was the fact that I had to learn so much of those things from his grandmother instead of from Bryson himself. As though he felt I had to want to be with him without any knowledge of what I was getting myself into for it to be valid or something.

I cared for him, even loved him I thought, but— well, I just wasn’t sure I wanted to play guessing games the rest of my life. That didn’t sound like a stable or pleasant basis on which to build a life.

I needed time to think. And I needed some sort of effort from him beyond ‘here it is, take it or leave it’.

I stood carefully, stretched a bit to try and limber up my stiff muscles, and began to pick my way carefully to my car. Between all the people and logs and coolers, it was something of an obstacle course, particularly since I wanted to stay quiet and not wake anybody up.

❖ ❖ ❖

I got maybe halfway to my car, before I heard heavy footfalls coming quickly up behind me. I could guess easily enough who it was— Bryson, of course, though I had thought I’d been careful enough not to wake him. I considered making a break for my car, but decided he was probably faster than I was, and I didn’t really feel like getting tackled or something equally dramatic in his attempt to try and make me stop. I kept walking, though; I wasn’t giving in that easy.

“Adalyn!” Bryson called in a sort of hissing whisper, trying both to get me to hear him while keeping his voice down. The effect was rather humorous, but I wasn’t really in a laughing mood. I also didn’t stop.

“Ada!” he called a little more loudly, and picked up his speed; in the space of a couple of heartbeats — while I was still quite a few feet from my car — he caught up to me, and grabbed my arm.
Huh. Deja vu. Didn’t we do this yesterday?

“What is it, Bryson?” I kept my voice low as well, fighting to keep my tone from becoming too snappish. I wanted a long hot shower and a real bed; I would only realize later that my still-tired brain was too focused on those things to recognize a perfect opportunity to get some answers. I tried to pull my arm out of his grasp, but his hand may as well have been a handcuff for all the good it did me. A small corner of my mind noted that with his hair all messy from sleep and the confused and concerned expression he wore, he was really absolutely adorable.

“Where are you going?” he asked, sounding almost panicky.

“To get the nice young men in their clean white coats to come and take you away, ha ha?” I rolled my eyes. His lovely honey-brown eyes widened, and he started to open his mouth to protest, but I cut him off before he could say anything. “I’m going home, furbrain.”

He pursed his lips in consternation, eyes squinting part way, not quite knowing how to react, I imagined. “But— why? I thought you were comfortable with us now?”

Okay, maybe I was in a laughing mood. I certainly laughed at that, anyway; it was a rather bitter, almost forlorn laugh, though. What was with him? What did he expect, with the mere scraps of information he’d given me? “I am, I suppose; and I’m also absolutely
not
.”

His brows drew together in confusion. “Wh-what does that mean?”

I groaned, and rubbed my face with both hands for a moment. “I don’t even know. That’s the point. This is all-” I paused, floundering around for the right words. “It’s all just so
much
. So much information, so many feelings, so much to try and figure out and process. I don’t know what to think or feel, or what is my own thoughts and feelings and what is coming from you lot.”

He tilted his head to the side, a decidedly canine gesture that almost made me smile. “What’s the difference?” He sounded genuinely perplexed by my distinction, not sarcastic at all.

I ignored his question, since I honestly had no idea how to answer it in a way that would make sense to him. “You haven’t exactly been much help, either. What information I do have on which to base a decision, I have from your grandmother instead of you!” My voice rose a bit, but I forced it back down. “You should be kissing her feet, by the way; if it weren’t for her I’d have probably been long gone, not hanging around to get my head played with more.”

He still looked confused.
Is he really that thick-headed?
“Who’s been playing with your head?”

“Argh!” I seriously wanted to bash my head against my car.
Yes, apparently he really
is
that thick-headed
.

❖ ❖ ❖

“You can’t possibly be that stupid, Bryson. You’ve been messing with my head from the moment we saw each other on campus.”

His eyes widened in what looked like genuine surprise. “Is that how it’s seemed to you? No wonder you’ve been acting so angry with me.”

I gave another small, bitter laugh. “Yeah, that would be why.”

He pursed his lips again, brows drawn together, seeming thoughtful. Eventually he asked, somewhat haltingly, “Is it me, or the pack and all it entails, that you still aren’t sure of?”

Well, that was certainly more direct than he’d been, basically at all. It drew me up short, and it was my turn to have to take a minute to consider. “Well… both, really.”

His lips pulled down in a little pout at my answer. His eyes were fixed on my face, studying every slightest muscle twitch by the looks of it.

“You aren’t sure how I feel about you, or how you feel about me?” His voice was barely more than a whisper now, husky, and damned sexy. That tone woke up something warm and hungry deep inside me that I had been quite happy to leave dormant, thank you very much.

I swallowed hard past the lump in my throat. I studied his face in return, so familiar, so beloved, and yet for so long it had been so hated; my emotions were a massive snarl that I was just beginning to tease out into some semblance of sense. I struggled to find an honest way to answer him.

“I— again, I’d have to say, both.” My pulse was racing again, I was both terrified and exhilarated. I had no idea how he would react, or even how I hoped he would react.

It seemed like an eternity that we just stood there, staring into one another’s eyes, as we each contemplated our situation and the other’s answers. How could he not have realized how confusing he had been, how creepy and scary and just plain bewildering?

I knew I wanted to be with him, it seemed like every cell in my body yearned for him in a way I hadn’t recognized until Madge called it out. But I still didn’t know if I should —
could
— let myself be with him. He seemed so oblivious, on a pretty basic level. He hadn’t been this way in high school. Was it the pack, taking over as alpha, that had left him so blind to basic communication skills with a ‘mere’ human?

Will that happen to me if I accept this?

I had no idea what was running through his mind, but he seemed to finally be putting some of the pieces together by the parade of emotions in his eyes and twisting his expression this way and that.
Excellent, maybe I’ll finally get some answers out of him
.

What I got, however, was not exactly answers, at least not in words. Instead, he wrapped both arms around me, pulling me to his broad chest, and he leaned in, pressing his lips to mine in a deep kiss. I put my hands on his chest, for a moment intending to push him away, out of surprise more than anything. But before he even noticed anything resembling resistance, I melted into him. His lips were warm and smooth and surprisingly soft. I slid my arms up around his neck, pressing into him, clinging to him like a lifeline.

He was warm, solid, real, and I knew he was telling me he could be mine if I wanted that. I had the oddest sensation, like tendrils of wind and magic fireworks swirling around us like something out of a Disney movie, though of course that was only in my imagination. What was not my imagination, however, was how my whole body reacted to him. I felt like my bones were all turning to jelly, and a molten, quivering heat began to build in my lower belly.

A moment later, I realized that my body was not the only one reacting to the kiss. I felt a twitching length hardening against my hips. I was
not
ready to deal with that just yet, even if my body screamed that it was.

I slid my hands back down to his chest, and pushed; gentle at first, but then harder when he didn’t react. As distracted as he was by the kiss, and given how much larger and stronger he was than me, I had to push with what for me was considerable force before it sunk in to him that I was trying to break the kiss rather than just caressing his chest, and he finally backed off slightly.

❖ ❖ ❖

I pulled back and stepped out of his embrace, then took another step back, and another. Inexplicably, I felt tears break free and trickle down my cheeks.

To his credit, he looked beyond alarmed when he saw the tears. “Ada? Did I hurt you, honey?” He sounded almost as bewildered as I felt.

“No, I— Yes! Yes, you hurt me, you hurt me worse than anyone ever except my father. You left without a word, abandoned me, left my heart shattered without any idea what happened or why. But now,
hurray
, it turns out I’m actually good enough for you after all, and I’m just supposed to take you back no questions asked even though you can’t even be bothered to tell me anything or even that you actually want to be together or what and I have to try and get information from your grandmother instead of from you!” I was babbling, saying the first words that came into my head with no regard to how they fit together, but he seemed to at least follow the gist of my rambling.