Heartsong (Green Creek 3) - Page 130

She bit her bottom lip. “Maybe. But… look, Robbie. We’ll figure it out, okay? You just need to give yourself and us time to readjust. You’re here, but it’s like you’re not here, you know? Not completely. I can see you standing in front of me, but I can’t feel you. Not like I could before. Not like I can with the other wolves.”

I was confused. “But you’re human. How can you feel anything with the wolves? It doesn’t work like that.”

She nodded slowly. “Not many humans in Maine, huh?”

“Only witches. Alpha Hughes says humans are a liability.”

“I bet she does.” Jessie sighed. “We’re not like other packs.”

“You don’t say.”

She punched me in the arm. It hurt more than I expected. “Don’t be a bitch, Fontaine. It’s different. With us. Maybe it’s having two Alphas. Maybe it’s because of Ox and who he was before everything went to hell. But we’re pack, just as much as any of the wolves. And the bonds that tie us all together are strong.” She hesitated. Then, “Can you feel any of us? Any of the wolves? Anything?”

I started to shake my head but stopped. “There’s… when I was in Caswell, I kept seeing things. Hearing things. Wolves that weren’t there. Voices.”

She didn’t react. Her face was carefully blank. “And since you’ve gotten here?”

“Ox. Loud and clear. But not really anyone else. At least not that I can differentiate.”

“Not Kelly?”

My throat closed. I didn’t say anything.

She let it go. “Rico and I can’t read the wolves as well as they can read us, but it’s enough. Chris and Tanner were the same before they….”

The skin around her eyes tightened.

Right. Chris and Tanner. Chris, who Kelly said had actually died. Chris, who was her brother.

The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. “I’m sorry.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Are you? Do you even remember what you’re apologizing for?”

“No.”

“And yet you said it anyway. Why?”

“Because I’m not a monster. If I did what Kelly said—”

“You did.”

“Then….”

She stepped away. “Hall bathroom, Fontaine. You’ve got five minutes. There are some clothes in there for you. They’re yours from before. They might not fit as well, seeing as how you’ve finally gained some muscle. I’m told they smell like pack. Try not to rip them. If I don’t see you in five minutes, I’m breaking down the door and shoving my crowbar down your throat.”

I believed her.

The clothes were sitting on the counter.

A plaid button-down shirt.

A pair of jeans.

Boxer briefs.

There was pack scent there, heavy and warm, as if they’d all worn my clothes at one point or another.

But it was one scent I chased after more than all the others.

Tags: T.J. Klune Green Creek Fantasy
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