Wolf Broken: A Reverse Harem Wolf Shifter Romance (Wolfish Book 2) Read online

  I turn around until our faces touch and get ready to answer him with a resounding yes … but I can’t say anything to him at all because the instant I open my mouth to speak, he thrusts his tongue inside. I didn’t need the candlelight and cozy cave to make me feel enraptured by Rory, I already felt that way.

  He turns my body, guiding his hands around my torso until I’m sitting up against his lap, facing him. His arms wrap around me and I lean into him as both of our chests heave against each other.

  I can feel him; he wants me.

  As our arms pull our bodies closer together and our tongues push against each other furiously, we become an inseparable knot of yearning bodies. I open my eyes to see him and his glowing yellow irises stare back at me with enough passionate light to rival all of the candles in the room. I want him too.

  I tug at the bottom of his shirt until he arches his back enough to let me lift it up and over his head. I can’t keep my hands from running over his chest and tracing every line of taut muscle, and then from dragging down his torso and into the rim of his pants. As Rory kisses me with increasing intensity and starts to undo the buttons on my jeans, I don’t want to stop. I don’t want to hesitate or think, I only want to know what it would feel like to have his body inside of mine.

  But suddenly my mind is flooded with all of the reasons we can’t, and I know, even here, even now, that as much as I want Rory to make love to me right here in this magical cave; I can’t let it happen.

  Even if something had changed and they suddenly could be with me, I don’t think I could do it anymore. Not tonight. Not like this.

  Vivian’s words have taken root.

  She’s right.

  I am afraid.

  10

  Sabrina

  It feels strange to stop at the cabin on Monday morning to grab my stuff for school. It feels like I don’t even live here anymore. I’m just another ghost flitting in and out of the shadows. Stuck here, tethered here, but not really belonging here.

  My mother is home, actually awake, and making a pot of coffee—for which I am even more grateful for than usual. I didn’t get much sleep over the weekend, not least of all because things were understandably tense for the rest of the weekend after the encounter with Rory that left us both so frustrated it hurt.

  I know Rory understands, and I think in hindsight he knew that he couldn’t have let it happen. But he was going to, and I could see in his eyes that night that he wouldn’t have stopped if I hadn’t made him.

  It was so unlike him, it left me wondering all weekend if there’s something the boys didn’t tell me. Some other reason they invited me out into the woods. Something more than the packs that have been crossing into the Gray family land in increasing numbers as of late.

  The weekend was blissful regardless, and I’m grateful to the boys for finding a way for us to be alone together, but now it’s back to reality and I’m sad that it’s over.

  At least my mother is in a halfway decent mood. She looks tired but seems cheerful enough—and for once since my father abandoned us both after his failed kidnapping, actually sober.

  “How was your weekend with the boys?” she asks, cradling the cup of coffee in her hands as if it’s liquid gold.

  I understand that feeling.

  “Nice enough,” I say, dismissively as I reach for my own cup. I’m not eager to start something with her, but the look on her face makes me reconsider. I stop what I’m doing for a second and glance back over at her, my jaw working for a moment before I ask, “And work? They’ve been keeping you busy lately.”

  “Yeah,” she says as her eyes drift away from mine, her attention lost as it so often is these days. “It was fine. You’d better get going or you’ll be late for school.”

  I feel my stomach sour.

  Typical. This is why I don’t bother anymore. Any time I put in any effort to meet her halfway, she just brushes me off. I don’t understand this game with her.

  Games. As if I need any more of them, least of all from her.

  She stands up and gives me a kiss on the top of my head, which I only reluctantly allow.

  I might have stayed to talk to her longer and see if I could get any clues about what’s going on with her, but Rory shows up at the door to give me a ride to school. The selfish part of me who wants no part in this is grateful, which only serves to make me feel even guiltier.

  “What’s wrong?” Rory asks as we walk to the Jeep, his eyes scanning the look on my face.

  I shake my head.

  “Nothing, I’m not sure. I think it’s nothing. It’s my mom, you know, she’s just acting a bit strange.”

  He looks like he’s about to say something, but then it’s his turn to just shake his head.

  I decide to drop the subject.

  “Where are the guys?” I ask, pausing with one hand on the back door when I see that Kaleb and Marlowe are missing from the back.

  “It’s just me today,” Rory answers.

  I heave a slow sigh. “Just Rory” means that the lot of them are likely skipping classes today.

  “We’re going to be missing school this week,” he says as I sit down in the car, confirming my suspicions.

  I glance over at him and mock surprise. “Wow, you’re actually warning me ahead of time for once?”

  Rory growls. “Don’t push your luck,” he says, his voice deep—but a slight smile pulls at the corner of his mouth as I settle in and kick my feet up on the dash.

  “The whole week?” I ask.

  I hate when they’re not at school. I end up not being able to concentrate on anything because I’m constantly thinking about what the boys are doing when I’m stuck in another stupid class.

  I wouldn’t even have to bother going anymore either if they’d just agree to turn me.

  His response is too short.

  “Yeah.”

  Rory knows I hate it. I can tell by his voice and the way that he stares at the road ahead instead of me. For once, however, at least he does me the decency of offering an explanation.

  It’s not much, but at least it’s something.

  “There’s a big pack meeting planned in a couple of days and we have some things we need to do.”

  He suddenly turns to look at me, his gaze severe. “Sabrina, I need you to promise me that you’ll stay away when everyone comes up to the house. There will be rogue packs travelling now that we’re getting so close to the eclipse … and some of the guest we’ll be hosting over the next couple days …” He trails off with a shake of his head. “It just wouldn’t be safe for you there.”

  I feel my proverbial hackles raise.

  “You mean like the ones that’ve been passing through for the last six months?” I say, an unmistakable edge in my voice. At this point, Rory’s constant warnings about these shifters sounds like an empty excuse to push me to the side yet again. Even Kaleb, who I thought better of, tried to warn me away this weekend with half-threats of something he hadn’t even done yet.

  Rory doesn’t budge, however. My tone just makes his brow darken and his hands grip the steering wheel even tighter than before.

  “They’re more dangerous than the other packs in our alliance. They’re not from here. They’re wild.”

  I press my hand to my forehead and close my eyes, trying to force my breath to steady. I thought that after this weekend we’d finally be on the same page, at least somewhat. I thought it was some kind of apology, some way to remember that we can be together.

  But here Rory is, acting exactly the same as he was before. Exactly the same as he always does. Stubborn. Patronizing.

  I snap.

  “Why is it that the three of you keep acting like I’m some sort of glass doll to be stored away out of reach, like I’m going to break at the slightest touch? I’ve been through a lot in my life, or maybe you don’t remember my father trying to shove me in a trunk and kidnap me after knocking me over the head? Or surviving my first wolf attack? Because I don’t remember you stopp
ing that from happening. And I wasn’t anywhere near your land.”

  I huff, arms crossed tightly over my torso.

  “I really think you need to stop overreacting so much about keeping me safe. It’s starting to get a bit stifling.”

  “I’m not overreacting, Sabrina. Have you forgotten about what happened during that attack? How you almost lost your arm?”

  How could I?

  I look down at my forearm, at the lines of silver scars running there from her bite.

  “Of course not,” I say, quieter this time. “But …”

  He cuts me off.

  “She wasn’t half as dangerous as what I’m talking about now. Promise me you’ll stay away. Just until I say it’s safe again.”

  He puts the Jeep in idle as we pull up to the school, and I can’t fight the feeling that once again, in asking me to stay away, he’s pushing me away.

  “You know,” I say with more than a little bit of intended snark as I get out of the car, “you guys really should have thought about the danger that all your extracurricular activities would pose to the tenants who rented your cabin.”

  I turn on me heel, slamming the door behind me as I go.

  “Is that a promise then?” he calls after me through the open window.

  “Fine,” I answer, turning around so he can see the way my eyes. “I promise I’ll stay away … again.”

  “Have a good day at school,” he says, an infuriating smile spreading across his face before he drives off. “There won’t be too many more weeks of this. Soon, it’ll all be back to normal.”

  A few more weeks of this?

  Back to normal?

  I could scream. I could cry. Instead, I just stamp my foot against the cracked pavement of the sidewalk.

  “Screw you,” I mutter under my breath. I’m not really mad at him, at least, not any angrier than I have been lately at being constantly shoved aside. It’s just that feeling angry is easier than feeling sad and abandoned.

  A feeling I have to fight, alone, for the rest of the week.

  Jess, Aimee, and even Tom just nod at me when I sit down with them at lunch, their eyes flickering over to the empty table across the cafeteria once before launching into what feels like an interrogation. This time, the prodding doesn’t stop after the first day.

  But the annoying interrogation they put me through at lunch isn’t nearly as bad as the pitying “we knew this was going to happen” looks that they keep giving me when they think I won’t see.

  That’s the part that I really can’t handle, because it makes me wonder if they’re right.

  They think the boys are abandoning me, one missing school day at a time … and even when once again Rory, Marlowe, and Kaleb return to school and let me know the danger has once again passed for a couple weeks, I can’t help thinking that perhaps they’re right.

  11

  Rory

  As soon as I get back to the house, the first thing I do is hunt Kaleb down.

  I find him downstairs in the garden, his hands digging into the snow-packed earth as Lydia stands watch a few yards away, calling out reminders for him not to destroy the roots of whatever it is she’s having him transplant.

  I have to stop myself from accosting him right away.

  I won’t do it in front of Lydia, at least, not today. Not when I can help it.

  She glances over at where I’ve skittered to a halt under the porch. The yellow light from the kitchen spills out over my shoulders, the brightest light on this overcast day. The scent of food, rare meats and exotic cheeses, wafts out from the spread laid out on the kitchen counter. The others will be arriving soon.

  And I need to get a word in with Kaleb before they do.

  Kaleb must sense me, because I catch him glancing back at me from over his shoulder. The sight of me shifting impatiently on my feet, my gaze glaring him down from across the lawn, does nothing to urge him faster.

  In fact, if anything, he moves slower.

  Lydia, ever able to sense my own mood before I even know it, moves to stand beside me. She mimics my posture, arms crossed over her chest and feet planted shoulder-width apart, but she does it with far more grace. Where I look impatient and surly, she looks the opposite.

  She tilts her head to the side, glancing over to where I’m staring Kaleb down in the garden.

  “You’ve not been yourself lately,” she says, quietly. She keeps her eyes trained on her youngest son as he turns the white, snow-covered ground black with frozen dirt. Not that you could tell from the way his hands dig it from the earth. “Is everything alright?”

  I should be used to Lydia’s questions by now. This sort of thing has become normal ever since Sabrina’s arrival. We never needed her to check in with us before. Never needed a watchful eye carefully measuring the shift of emotions in the air.

  And we don’t now.

  Her question makes my shoulders tense. I withdraw half a step, refusing to look at her.

  “We’re fine. I’m fine. I just need to talk to Kaleb,” I say, nodding in his direction.

  Her eyes stay on me, scanning my face as she reads me like an open book.

  After a moment, she lets out a sigh.

  “That’s fine there, Kaleb. I can do the rest myself,” she calls out across the snow.

  My brother’s head pops up, his eyes flickering over to me and then just as quickly back to her.

  “Are you sure? I could do the rest of it?”

  I brace my arms harder, trying my hardest to keep my temper in check.

  Lydia, thankfully, gives Kaleb a soft smile and shakes her head, ordering him inside to wash up before the rest of the packs arrive. From somewhere over my shoulder, I hear more rustling in the kitchen, and voices. Marlowe and Vivian are back, fresh game slung over their shoulders. They still carry the scent of the hunt on them, and the adrenaline makes my temper flare.

  I catch Kaleb on his way in the door, half his body still stained with black earth.

  “I need to talk to you,” I growl in his ear, “about what you said to Sabrina over the weekend.”

  His body, usually lithe and light, tenses beneath my touch.

  “Nothing,” he says, too quickly, then backtracks when he sees the reflection of my face in the glass. “At least, nothing she didn’t already know. Or should have known.”

  He tugs himself free from my grip, but I follow him down the hall to the bathroom.

  “What do you mean by that?” I ask, as he does his best to ignore me in favor of the water running from the faucet.

  He ducks his head under the cold water for a moment as the flecks of dark dirt wash from his skin. He takes his time when he emerges, sticking one arm under the water and scrubbing the dirt from his skin and nails, and then the other. When he straightens back up, and reaches for the towel to dry himself, I snatch it out of his hand and hold it out of reach.

  Now, finally, he’s forced to look up at me. He tries to grin at me in that carefree way he does to get out of trouble, but I keep my expression stern.

  “What did you say to her?” I growl, moving the towel even further out of reach.

  The hair on the sides of Kaleb’s face is soaked. He stands in front of me, his grin faltering as water drips down from him to the wood floor.

  “I told you already,” he says, “I just told her to be careful. I reminded her what we’re capable of.”

  I narrow my eyes at him.

  “And what was that?”

  Kaleb reaches for the towel, but once again I pull it just out of reach at the last second. I’m not much taller than him, but the little I am … it makes all the difference.

  Color rises in his cheeks as his own temper, still no match for mine, rises.

  “Come on, Rory. Why do you have to be so serious all the time?” he snaps.

  “Because this is serious,” I say. “You should have seen Sabrina this morning. Whatever you said to her, it’s thrown her off.”

  I finally relent and let him snatch the towel
from my hand, but he doesn’t immediately storm off. He buries his soaking face in the downy towel for a moment, but when he emerges, cheeks flushed, he’s eying me warily.

  “How so?”

  I take a half step back, my eyes flickering up to the ceiling. “She’s … withdrawn. Angry.”

  I swallow. “And more than that, back at the cave …” I stop talking and shake my head to clear it. “Whatever you said to her on that little walk, it spooked her.”

  Kaleb is watching me carefully now. He’s no longer trying to run away.

  “Shit,” he mutters, his eyes finally dropping down the towel in his hands. He’s no longer as interested in it as he was before. It’s his turn to shake his head for a moment. “I knew I shouldn’t have mentioned it,” he says, before looking back up at me guiltily. “It’s my fault. I started going on about shifters killing people …”

  “You what?” I say, sharply. “Why would you do that? What on earth compelled you …”

  And even as I say it, I know.

  Romulus.

  I stop in the middle of my own sentence and bare my teeth at the wall behind Kaleb.

  My brother’s nervous energy has returned, even as the sound of voices carries down to us from the end of the hall. Our guests have arrived. It’s too late to do anything now. Today.

  But something is going to have to be done.

  “How are we going to fix this?” Kaleb asks, his voice surprisingly small.

  His face is downturned when I look back at him, his expression that of a pup that’s gotten caught doing something naughty.

  I shake my head again, my own thoughts racing.

  “We’re going to have to show her what we are. What we really are,” I say, carefully. “And I think I know one way to do that.”

  Kaleb’s eyes brighten. “Are you talking about …”

  I nod.

  “Romulus is going to take some convincing, but I think it’s time Sabrina got to watch a transformation. A real one.”

  12