Breathing deep, I sort through a few of the questions rattling around in my head and pick out the most important one.
“So…am I, like, safe in public?” I ask as we amble casually down the sidewalk between planters filled with orange and yellow mums. “Do I need to be chained in a basement or something until I can keep my monster from ripping people apart?”
Ellery looks over at me pointedly. “Your wolf. Not your monster,” he corrects gently.
To-may-to, to-mah-to.
“You’ve been perfectly fine till now. What makes you think that will change?” he asks evenly. “Have the sudden urge to rip into people’s chests and eat their hearts?”
“Is that a thing?” I demand, my tone squeaky with shock, heartbeat skipping. I see a couple pushing a baby in a stroller a few hundred feet away, and I glance around, prepared to cross the road and spare them if need be.
Ellery rolls his eyes and chuckles as he shakes his head at me. “We’re not cannibals, just wolf shifters. We’re bigger than our canine cousins, we live longer, our instincts lean a little wilder than the average human, but we still have feelings and rational thought in both forms. If you weren’t a homicidal maniac before, it’s not likely you’ll suddenly turn into one. You weren’t, were you?” he asks, his brow rising in faux suspicion, but his tone is clearly joking.
“No homicidal leanings, just a craving for raw meat and the urge to start marking my territory,” I snark back, needing the easy banter to chase away all the other things that feel too dark and heavy right now.
Ellery laughs, and again the sound does things to me, things I’m adding to the list of shit I’m not thinking about until I’ve had a shower, a good cry, and several bottles of wine.
“Already?” he mocks with faux shock. “Usually that instinct doesn’t kick in for a few more days. Just remember, if you pee in public, be sure to do it in fur form. Otherwise, I’ll have to give you a ticket.”
I snort out a laugh despite myself, but then his words nip me in the ass.
Fur form.
“Fuck my life, I have a fur form now thanks to bite and run Gannon.”
Ellery’s grin quickly falls as he seems to sense my change in mood.
“This isn’t something you’ve been infected with, Noah. I just want to make that clear. The bite didn’t…change you. You’ve always been an eerie. You needed a propellant to activate your shifter, but you were one of us from the day you were born. Your instincts might have been dormant, but they’ve been a part of you your whole life.”
Ellery’s words sink into me like weighted lures, enticing me to consider them like a fish does bait.
Is this why my metabolism is so high? Have I been feeding a dormant wolf all this time and didn’t know it? Could this be behind my need to wander? Is it the eerie part of me that’s always been searching for something I can’t name but know I need to find?
Have I unknowingly been searching for a pack my entire life?
We round a corner and come to a colossal, deluxe cabin. It boasts a standing seam steel roof and two levels of wrap-around balconies overlooking a beautiful babbling brook.
Behind the inn, pines rise up with the mountains until the peaks stretch beyond the grasp of the evergreens. Deciduous trees give pops of orange here and there, as if they were planted by an artist instead of Mother Nature.
Focusing back on the large building in front of me, we leave the sidewalk and start up a stone path to the front door. That’s when I spot a mirrored, gunmetal gray sign that reads Howliday Inn glinting just above a wide front door, and I bark out a laugh.
Looks like the people of Howling Rapids have a sense of humor. The No Skin, No Service sign that was hanging on the diner door sure makes a hell of a lot more sense now.
“Oh fuck,” I gasp, clutching at my chest as a revelation hits me.
Immediately, Ellery spins like a ninja, maneuvering me behind him and growling protectively.
He’s slightly crouched, his eyes scanning our surroundings, his body primed for action like he’s ready to rip apart a threat. “What’s wrong? What happened?” Ellery snarls, one arm reaching behind him to keep me close…safe.
While he’s overreacting, I appreciate the fact that he immediately jumped to defend me. It helps ease the disgruntled side of me—the side that still feels like he should have told me everything the minute I walked through his office door.
Glancing down when his hand reaches for mine, I realize that the sheriff’s utility belt doesn’t have a gun clipped to it. And now I’m pretty sure I know why.
Who needs a weapon when you are a weapon?
I take a step back because, though Ellery’s protective instincts are comforting, his strange need to touch me—and the fact that I don’t hate it—is too unnerving right now.
“The guys this morning said their den claimed me.”
He turns to me slightly, his blue eyes running over my face and taking in the way I’m anxiously threading my fingers through my tangled hair.
“Okay…” he trails off, waiting for me to continue, but I can somehow sense he’s a bundle of nerves, almost as if I can smell the unease coming off of him.
“What’s a den?”
He licks his lips like he’s searching for the right words. “It’s…your family. The family you choose, not your family by blood.”
I silently absorb his answer while I mentally fit together the bits of strange conversation I’ve heard up to this point like they’re pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. “They said your name. And they said Gannon bit me.”
Ellery gives a terse nod.
Holy shit.
“You’re in their den?”
Another nod. The gesture hits me with the force of a headbutt to the chest, and I take a deep, gasping breath. The tips of my fingers are tingling. My bones feel hollow.
The sheriff is part of the den that hunted me. That bit me. That—per my conversation with the not-so-crazies this morning—claimed me.
“There are four of you?”
He nods.
“Four guys?” I confirm, because I just can’t seem to wrap my head around this.
“Four male shifters, yeah.”
“But—” I blink.
What the fuck is this place?
“So…no monogamy. All four of you claimed me?”
Ellery’s expression confirms my theory.
“How…”
I shake my head and stop asking the question as I hold up a hand to prevent an answer. I am officially done. This revelation is the final straw, and now I’m broken. I can feel myself growing pale, the blood receding from my cheeks even though my heart starts to pound.
“Look, we don’t need to talk or worry about any of that now. We just need to get you taken care of. Let’s get you a room, get you comfortable and fed; we can worry about the rest later.”
We? I question, but I swallow it down.
“I have no money.”
“You’re pack now,” he responds, as if that reply explains everything.
The sheriff strides toward the front desk, and I follow him in a daze. I see but don’t really take in the bright yellow walls or modern chairs and couches set out for visiting. I don’t glance over at the attached bar and restaurant even though my stomach gurgles longingly. Staring into space, I don’t pay any attention as a flurry of activity and a fair amount of fawning occurs. My mind races as we ride up the elevator to a suite, but I don’t know what to think about any of it. Not the inn or the thoughts and questions whirring around in my mind like a cyclone.